by Mj Fields
I shake that thought away.
I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, if there is a heaven, Tommy is there, and if he’s able to look down, he’s proud of me for bleeding out like I did today.
I shower and walk out, grab some shorts, pull them on, all while trying to convince myself I’m going to be noble and shit by sleeping on the floor. Then I climb in bed beside her, push an arm under her, and gently guide her head, wet hair and all, to rest on my chest.
“I love you, Tessa Ross.”
“Love you,” she murmurs, and I brace for what’s next … whose name she’ll say. “Lucas.”
I close my eyes and expect to sleep heavily, but unexpected guilt creeps in.
Chapter Twenty Eight
I wake—but maybe not—to my head against a hard chest over a slow, steady beating heart, hands splayed over a massive, hard peck. I inhale deeply just to make sure last night wasn’t a dream, and when I catch it, his scent, I know it’s definitely him.
I open my eyes, and he moves slightly. I assume my lashes skated across his skin. No, his nipple. His nipple that is now hardening a centimeter from my eye.
I use a fingernail on my other hand to graze his other and hope to watch it do the same. He shifts slightly again, and headache be damned, it’s hot.
I flutter my eyelashes again then grin when it pebbles further and his body tenses. I wait a minute before using my nail on the other.
“Baby,” he says.
I consider pretending to fake sleep, therefore avoiding the embarrassment, but decide against it. “I like your nipples.”
His chest vibrates with a silent chuckle. “Good morning.”
I look up. “Good morning.”
He looks between my eyes, his still hooded from just waking up, mine probably bloodshot and murky. “I love yours.”
He moves quickly, pulling me so I’m lying on top of him while spreading his legs so I’m half on him, half on the cotton sheets that are warmed by his furnace of a body between his. Then he reaches over and pulls open his nightstand drawer, rustling through it, until he pulls out a roll of breath mints and pops one before dragging my body up his and kissing me.
When his hot tongue attempts to split my lips, I pull away.
“No?” He looks confused then concerned.
“I need to brush my teeth.”
He grips my face and pulls it to his, opening his mouth, and I see the breath mint wrapped around the tip of his tongue, giving me an invitation to take it, and that’s exactly what I do.
Tongue against tongue, lips, teeth, moans, groans all come together in a chorus of missing, loving, and wanting.
He runs his hand up the back of my sweatshirt and starts messing with my bra closure, and he does this for a long time. And while doing that, his kisses, which are always hyper focused, slow, and yes, it needs to slow—breathing is necessary. Then he slides his lips down my neck, the movement of hands becoming frustrated, so I remove my hands from his hair and push up a bit.
His eyes carry a look of irritation. “Out of practice.”
“Lucas,” I whisper
“Baby, this is fucked up,” he says as if he’s not just frustrated but … upset with himself.
“There’s a lot of things messed up right now, so maybe we should slow down and just …” I stop when his eyes widen. I close mine and sigh. “I am so tired of crying, Lucas. But the best part of us is the ability to talk and …” I stop talking when he tenses, his hands leaving me to scrub them over his face. “Talk to me, Lucas.” I kiss his forehead.
“I was two seconds from tits, and not just tits, your tits, and I couldn’t even unclasp your bra.”
“I’m seriously okay that you’re out of practice.”
“Yeah, well, were they?” His green eyes pop open at his words, the oh shit look giving way to a scowl. “Not going to apologize for being jealous.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Tommy would tell me if I was so …” He clamps his lips shut, and they form a line.
“Talk. To. Me.”
“Baby, I don’t wanna talk.” His voice is deeper now, pained. “Words aren’t going to bring him back. They aren’t going to let him love up Jade while she is carrying their baby or hold him, see him smile, walk, throw a ball.”
There are still so many unanswered questions, a million. I know he didn’t have sex with her, but still, he did choose to believe her, go to therapy with her. Down deep, I think it’s because he wanted better for his son, for him, yet still …
“Or you hold yours,” I whisper, and his entire body turns to stone. “Lucas, don’t or—”
“Tessa, no.”
A wall is being built, and I want to smash it away immediately. So, I kiss him.
“Stop,” he whispers.
I pull back, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I thought—”
I start to move off him, but he grabs my arms, stopping me. “This is not how I dreamed it would be when we someday got back together. And, Tessa, I knew we would. But right now, I hurt.”
Tears fall onto his chest, and I press my lips to where his heart lies, hurting. “I’m sorry.” I kiss his chest again
“It has hurt like hell for months,” he whispers.
I lean down and kiss his chest softly, and he breathes out.
“Is that better?”
“Each time you kiss me, it gets better.” He wraps his arms around me tightly. “I know you’re hurting, too, and I’m not trying to take it out on you, but fuck, baby, it has nowhere else to go when it comes.”
“I’ll take your anger and know it’s not at me.” I kiss his chest again. “I’ll take your hurt and hold it close.” Another kiss, and he relaxes a bit.
“Baby,” he whispers.
“I’ll take your pain and try to lessen it.” Kiss. “And you’ll give me the kind of love I have never experienced, the kind that I cried at night wanting, the kind I crave … from you.”
I feel him hardening and know, I just know, what he needs, what we need.
“Tessa,” he says, attempting to pull me up.
I shake my head as I kiss a little lower. “I’ll take all of you, Lucas, as long as you promise to take all of me.”
He nods. “Nothing more in the world I want than to be that for you. And I will.”
I kiss him lower, and then slowly move down, pressing another kiss to his hard skin.”
“Tessa, we can wait,” he says, but the need in his voice and the need inside of me says otherwise.
“Can we?” I shake my head, lips still against his skin, feeling him begin to harden even more.
“Let’s slow this down. Wait until graduation.”
“We’ve waited long enough.” I rub my lips across the sparse black hair just above the waistband of his shorts.
Eyes hooded, he asks a question he knows the answer to. “When then, baby?”
“Now,” I whisper as I run the palm of my hand lightly over his length.
“You need to be sure you want this with me, Tessa.”
“It’s always been you. Always, Lucas.” My voice shakes slightly, the butterflies, the good kind, fluttering away.
“It always will be,” he says, eyes glazed and hooded. Then he moves quickly, without warning, and I’m on my back, and he’s kneeling between my legs, “No going back. Not ever.” He lifts the hem of my sweatshirt, and I raise my arms, moving to make it easier, needing this to happen before anything—
“Lucas, your mom,” I whisper in embarrassment.
He shakes his head as he cups my chin, rubbing his thumb over my lower lip. “Not here.”
Something in the way he said that—anger mixed with pain—I know. I just know.
“Baby,” he almost pleads, his eyes widening. “Not now. It’s you and me, just us.”
“Only,” I stress, “us.”
Looking me over the way he does, I feel beautiful, and it’s as if he doesn’t know where to begin.
My body heated, nipples aching for his touch, my center burning t
o feel him, I whisper, “Lucas.”
Lips to mine, he moves beside me, kissing me, hand pushing down the strap to my bra. I reach behind myself and unclasp it impatiently, and he groans against my lips and into my mouth as I pull my arm free. He pushes his tongue in my mouth—hot, sweet, mint, Lucas … love—tasting mine, mine tasting his as he pushes down the other strap and tosses my bra aside. My heart, it doesn’t beat faster; it races.
He kisses down my arm, groaning against my skin as he squeezes my breast before licking my nipple, and then he sucks it into his mouth. And he doesn’t stop.
Licking, sucking, squeezing, again and again and again, from one breast to the next, as if starving, and I know … God, how I know that feeling.
The pleasure, incredible. So much so that I almost miss his hand moving down my body, splaying across my belly, lightly digging into my skin.
Rolling my nipple between his fingers, sucking on the other, he slowly releases it from between his teeth and asks, voice intoxicating and deep, “Are you sure, baby?”
“Yes. Very.”
His touch is gentle as he splits me open, fingers sliding between my wetness, and I hold my breath as he watches me. His lips against mine now, soft, careful, slow, he moves one finger inside of me.
“Lucas,” I gasp against his mouth, and he lifts his head, watching me.
It’s not anything like I expected. No pain, no embarrassment. Not when Lucas is looking down at me, lust and reverence dancing behind the deep green of his eyes.
“We go slow. Slow is really good, isn’t it, baby?” he asks, sliding his finger deeper in and out.
Mouth agape, I nod, and he nods back, eyes hooded.
He takes my breast in his mouth again and watches my face as he begins moving his finger faster in and out of me
“Lucas,” I gasp when the pleasure builds higher than ever before.
My breast falls from his mouth as his hunger becomes even more so, growing with mine and mine with his.
He moves his lips, mouth, tongue down my body until he kisses me … there. My body quakes, inside and out, as he lays his tongue on me, licking outside as he continues to work his finger inside.
My body trembles when his tongue replaces his fingers and goes deeper, deeper, dee …
“Oh God!” My legs tense around his head, and I grip his hair.
He wraps his lips around my damp sex and sucks. Then he thrusts his tongue in and out as he licks and sucks. And my body … my body quivers and shivers deep inside. I moan his name and words that have no meaning as he continues fingering me, watching intently as he does, and I am without shame, spread out before him.
He rubs his nose over nerves, thousands, maybe millions of them, and then blows on my sensitive center, again and again until my body is begging for more, more of him.
When he starts to move away, I let out a strangled, “Lucas?”
He smiles, licks his lips, and says, “Condom, baby.”
With a hand still on me, never leaving, he reaches in his nightstand drawer and grabs a condom.
“We’re going to go slow, okay, baby? I don’t want you to hate this.” He kisses my cheek.
I can’t help but laugh, and he looks from the packet to me.
“Tessa?”
“I’m pretty sure … Oh God!” I gasp as he pushes a finger inside of me while rolling the condom on. Then he’s between my legs, rubbing his cock up and down.
“You sure?” he asks.
“Yes, dammit,” I all but snap, feeling the burn in my belly increasing again.
He winks then looks down at his dick, which I haven’t dared to yet take in, and then I look.
“Oh my …” I say, a bit nervous.
Those nerves stop, however, when he faceplants between my legs and licks, kisses, and sucks up my body until I can’t take it anymore, and at that second, he is above me.
“I need—”
“Oh, baby, me, too.”
Above me, his weight on one arm, his other hand around him, I watch as he strokes himself once, twice, three times, and then he drags himself against my entrance. There is no hesitation or second thought. There is just us. There is just … love.
A low, deep, guttural sound escapes his chest as he pushes inside of me, his green eyes looking into mine, so dark I swear I can see myself in them.
“Baby, you are so hot, so tight, so mine.”
I grip the sheets beneath me and smash my lips together as I feel myself stretch around him.
“Tessa?” he asks, bringing my eyes from our connection to his. “Are you—”
“Don’t you dare stop,” I demand. “Lucas, I want you, I love you, I need you. So, don’t you dare stop,” I whisper my resolve as I spread wider and grip his shoulders.
He reaches between us, fingers like a flame, igniting something inside of me that I have never felt as he circles my clit.
Deeper.
Deeper.
I close my eyes when I feel it, feel the pain and knowing what it is. One move, and it’s gone.
He smashes his lips to mine as he drives into me.
I cry out the last breath of my innocence. No words. No sound. Nothing more between us.
“Sorry, baby, I’m sorry,” he grits out against my lips.
I inhale, and my smile spreads against his.
He pulls back so he can look at me and stalls. He pushes my hair from my face, hands cupping each side. “Baby?”
“Lucas,” I sigh, and then I move beneath him.
“We still good?” he asks as tension almost visibly leaves his body, his eyes.
“So good.” I reach around him and grip his hard, muscular ass.
“I’m so fucking inside you, Tessa Ross,” he says before he kisses me hungrily, the way my Lucas from September kisses me.
He moves faster and a little harder. His lips leave mine, and he takes my breast into his mouth. A growl escapes him as he sucks my nipple, bites it, and then pulls back.
Staring down on me, his eyes move from mine to my tits. “So hot. So tight. All mine.”
I wrap my arms around him and pull myself up.
He flips me around and moves so his back is against his headboard. “You sure you want top, baby?”
I nod, unable to speak at the depth of him.
“Can’t just sit on the sidelines, can you, Tessa Ross?”
Before I have a chance or the ability to respond, he bows his head and takes my breast in his mouth again. One hand on my breast, the other hand guides my hips, thumbs digging in almost uncomfortable with need.
I move on top of him and, yeah, I regret it.
“Does this hurt?” He kisses my throat.
“Just a little, but—”
I squeal when he flips me to my back, never losing our connection.
He slides his fingers between us, working my clit as he moves in and out, mouth working one breast then the next.
“Lucas, a … a … amazing!” I cry out as pleasure, insane amounts of pleasure, rack my body.
He moves faster and harder, lips and teeth tugging and sucking my nipples, and I …
“Oh God.” I dig my mails into his back as my entire body jolts before my center contracts, clenches, and … explodes.
“Tell me,” he groans as his pace quickens.
Deeper.
“What does it feel like, baby?” he groans before kissing my lips, my cheek, my shoulder.
“Like … Oh, Lucas.” I shake my head as another wave hits me.
“My turn.” He moves fast and hard then finally stops, his eyes rolling back slightly as he groans, “Baby, I love you.”
Feeling him pulsate inside of me, seeing him in such an unguarded state, watching his pleasure roll through him … deepens my love for him.
He rolls off me, emptying from me, and I whimper at the loss.
He pulls me with him, panting, pawing the side of my head, pulling it to his chest as he reaches down, pulls off the condom, and drops it over the side of the bed.
<
br /> “Love you, Tessa Ross,” he pants out. “Knew I always would.” He takes a deep breath. “Different now.”
I look up. “Deeper?”
He smirks. “Yeah, baby, and completely fucking obsessed.”
I bury my face against his chest. “Not alone in that.”
He rolls to his side and looks at me sternly. “Don’t you dare let me fuck this up.”
Shocked, I shake my head. Then I get upset, a little pissed, actually.
“Baby, no, not like—”
“Seriously?” I slide off the opposite side of the bed.
I notice his eyes on my tits, and then he smashes his eyes shut and mumbles, “Jesus L. Christ.”
My jaw drops, offended for a whole different reason. “Did you just say L?”
He pushes up off the bed, and I scrabble to get my bra.
“L as in Links,” he says, eyes fixated on the bed as I start to put on the sweatshirt.
As I’m making my way to the exit, he grabs me.
“Let go,” I hiss.
“Baby, you’re not going anywhere.”
“Don’t let me fuck this up? Like you know—”
He grabs my face. “I’m going to need to be all up in you all the time. You’re going to need to tell me when you aren’t feeling it. And even then, your tits”—he closes his eyes—“the way they bounce … fucking hard again.”
Okay, so maybe I overreacted, but still …
“L?”
He opens his eyes, smirks, and lifts a shoulder. “You said Oh God and—”
I shove him hard and laugh.
He pulls me into a hug. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
Lips to the top of my head, he chuckles.
I look up. “What?”
“You tried top first go.” His eyebrows shoot up. “Obsessed.”
I arch a brow at him. “Yeah, well, you may have met your match.”
“Nah.” He chuckles, and I push him hard. Laughing, his ass hits his bed. “Baby, I met my forever.”
I see him, all of him, and he’s hard … again.
“Love you, baby, but you’re not ready for round two.”