My spastic nods must satisfy her, cuz she squeezes harder, pumps quicker, and she’s going to paralyze me. I can’t move my arms or legs, can’t catch my breath, but my ass comes right off the bed. I’ve never felt anything close to this. Who knew her hand would be so much better than mine? So much better. This is the difference between an aspirin and LSD. It’s so good, it’s borderline painful.
“Will you make love to me, Taz?”
I’m dreaming. Or heard her wrong.
Lips ghosting over mine, she tells me, “Make love to me.”
I need to say something back. My tongue flops around in a puddle of spit. No way I can be trusted with her fingers wrapped around my cock. I’d sell my soul to get inside her. I am stupidly proud of myself when I manage, “We don’t need to,” in a voice that isn’t mine.
“I want to.”
“You’re sure?” Even I can hear how hopeful I am.
She lays over me, hand still down my boxers, tits pressing into my chest, naked thigh sliding up my leg, and the intensity of my hunger is almost fatal. Then she pulls my lower lip between her teeth, and my eyes roll so far back into my head, I see my brain.
“I’m sure.”
I’ve gotta calm the fuck down, go slow and careful. Just the thought of sliding into her sweet pussy has me on the verge of detonation. So I tug her hand away from me, take hold of her wrists and roll her onto her back. My hips find their happy place between her legs, and I gently kiss her.
Looking into her eyes, I whisper, “There’s no rush.”
“I want to,” she says again. “I want you.”
Even as I reach over the side of the bed and fish around in the back pocket of my jeans, I worry my wanting this is somehow pushing her into it. I expected to wait a lot longer than this. That’s a lie. I never expected this.
“I don’t want you to regret anything you do with me,” I tell her and mean it.
“I won’t,” she says with her chin tilted up, eyes bright and steady. She sounds certain. Is she scared? Will I hurt her? Don’t let me wreck this for her. Let me make this good. Better than good. Please, please, please.
I strip off my boxers, roll on the condom and crawl back over her. This is the best my life will ever get, and I warn myself not to rush it. So I start with a kiss, deepening it gradually, exploring the sweet heat of her with my tongue. I’m already halfway to heaven as I stroke between her legs with my fingers, teasing, getting her wet and ready, gliding in and out, holding back until she’s arching into me. Then I position myself. My whole body, from neck to heels, every nerve and muscle, is strung so tight it’s a wonder I don’t tear down the middle.
Right at the last second, I hesitate and tell her the words I’ve never said before, never felt before. She deserves to hear them. “I love you. You know that, right?”
CHAPTER 66
Tia:
Taz loves me. I could survive on those three words, live off nothing but the sound of his voice, the feel of his lips, the way he looks at me with such wonder. The boy who wouldn’t speak is offering me his heart. I make a silent promise to cherish it and am so overcome I can’t manage to say a single thing back.
Studying every nuance of my face, he finally checks, “Still sure?”
“Yes.” From now on, he will hear a lot more of that word.
His eyes, such a pale translucent blue they could double as wishing stars, stay with me as he oh so gradually pushes deeper.
Not gonna lie, I’m a little scared. A little tense, but I have no doubts.
Taz has doubts. He’s worried he’s rushed me. He’s afraid of hurting me. He’s got his bottom lip trapped under teeth while his arms quiver from the strain of resisting.
Sweet boy. He doesn’t understand how single-minded I have been in my pursuit of him, how early on I claimed him as mine and how wild I am for him at this moment. He tried to run, tried to hide and now that I’ve caught him, I’m never letting go.
I trace the curves of his brows with just the tips of my fingers, absolutely fascinated by every detail, and assure him, “I want this. I want you.”
He nods, determined. He wants to make this perfect.
Slowly, slowly he moves, clearly torturing himself, and even when there’s a painful sting, I’m careful not to show it. It’s only for a few seconds as my body stretches and adjusts to him and as it happens, he makes a humming in his throat, the sound of gratification wrapped up in a tangle of nerves. Then he pulls back, repeats and there’s pleasure. A slow gradual swell rolls through me as his hips ease forward again. It’s tantalizing. Who would believe the Taz-manian devil is so gentle?
Sliding my one hand into the lovely dip in his spine, I let my palm come to rest on the curve of his ass and ride the bunch and release of his muscles. This is what I want. Grabbing, pressing, I tell him. “More.”
He goes still. “Yeah?”
“Don’t hold back.”
“You’ll tell me if I hurt you?”
“You won’t,” I insist.
“You’ll tell me?” he mimics my tone.
“I will.”
There’s no looking away from his intensity as he grips my one leg behind the knee, lifts it up over his shoulder and thrusts his hips with a whole new meaning. Oh my god. An electric jolt shimmies up my spine, starts my pulse thrumming and sets my heart to triple time. The sensations spread to my every extremity and build one on top of the other, picking up speed, pulling me steadily tighter and closer, like a ribbon he’s wrapping around himself, binding us together.
I’m losing myself, becoming nothing more than an echo of him, my heartbeat mating with his, his breath mixing with mine, and his familiar scent is all over me. I hang on by clasping the sides of his face and tugging his lips to mine for a deep tasting. His tongue is hot, his mouth intoxicating and my little breathless whimpers spill into it. I am right on the edge, his rhythm taking me where pleasure almost becomes too much, and yet I ache for more.
As my nails scrape along his sides, from waist to armpits, his head falls back with a sharp inhale, a hiss through his teeth, his back arching, muscles squeezing and stretching and I want to touch him everywhere. My own skin is nearly blistering, so incredibly sensitive to every brush of his, and he is smooth, feverish, firm yet wonderfully pliant under my hands. I can’t get him close enough, my hips answering when he rocks into me harder, faster. I am right there, right there and making sounds I don’t recognize as my own.
“That’s it, that’s it,” Taz chants, and his voice is a physical thing, a perfect combination of rough and gentle, and all it takes. I bury my face in his neck and feel the ripples all the way down to my toes. My entire body tenses for one glorious moment and then lets go. As I fall absolutely limp, goosebumps erupt on his skin and he presses his hips tight to mine, lets his breath huff from his lips and his legs quiver.
Wow.
I may never move again. While my heart flies around like a drunken butterfly, my limbs weigh a thousand pounds each. I’m nothing but a mush of contentment right now, and Taz is dead on top of me. I’d check for a pulse, but his breath tickles my cheek. I am in no hurry to disrupt him. No need to turn the page. This is a happily-ever-after-moment and I wish we could say here for the next hundred years.
“What time is it?” I blurt.
“Really?” His voice is muffled against the pillow. “You were timing me? How did I do?”
“You did amazing.” I pet his hair. He is such a good boy. “But I want to know if there’s time to do it again,” I admit and before I can get the last word out, Taz’s ears perk and his bright eyes jump straight to mine.
“Really?” he repeats with a whole new inflection.
“You’re like Booger hearing the canopener.” I slide my fingers through the sexy mess of dark strands, scratch lightly at his scalp and watch his pupils dilate. “I need to pick everybody up from school and practice, but if there’s time to you know, and you … ah, wanted to again … I’m not sure how long it takes for your, you know
to … ”
The left corner of his mouth hikes up, and his birthmark climbs with it. “How long it takes for my what?”
I try hard not to smile but feel my mouth spreading, my eyes crinkling. “How long does it take your soldier to salute?”
Now the right side of his mouth completes the curve. “My soldier?”
I can’t help it, I smirk back at him. “How long before your rocket is ready for launch?”
His nose squishes, lips mashing together and cheeks turning a little pink. This just eggs me on.
“How soon till your tootsie pops?”
That does it. Gibson Tazmerek laughs. His stormy gray voice bursts into sunlight, warms my world, lights me up from the inside and completely melts me. I feel like I’ve been waiting years for this. I made him laugh.
He Eskimo kisses me, then gives me a taste of the real thing before he gently, slowly eases off me. Flopping onto his back, he hides behind his forearm and laughs some more. His chest shakes.
“Happiness looks good on you,” I tell him.
He peeks over at me, the smile still playing nicely with his mouth. “Thanks to you.”
I take the compliment for now. Later I’ll remind him of his incredible strength and perseverance, of how he stepped up and claimed what he deserves.
“Sooo ...” I draw a swirl around the flat of his nipple with my fingertip and his nostrils flare. “Again?”
He shifts to sit on the edge of the bed with his back to me. “You’re not sore?”
As I get to my knees behind him, the mattress moving with my motions, his shoulders tighten, muscles giving into a shiver and his knee bounces.
“Trick question.” Cautious and careful, I trail my fingers down his arm, staying away from the vandalism marking him from shoulder to shoulder, neck to waist, understanding that the fear behind these scars may never go away. “If I say yes, you won’t wanna do it again.”
“I’ll always want to do it again. You could be covered in mustard and I …”
“Mustard?”
“Mustard’s disgusting.” He looks over his shoulder and grins. Someone please fetch some paper towels to clean up my heart. It’s that puddle at his feet. “But I’d happily lick it off every inch of you.”
He might be a boy of few words, but he picks the perfect ones.
I crowd closer, so I can burrow my nose into his neck, into the aphrodisiac of his smell and warmth. “It’s all I can do not to pounce on you right now, and I kind of wanna bite.”
“Jesus, you might just kill me.” I get another chuckle out of him. “All right, tiger. Let me get rid of the condom, yeah? Then, I’m all yours.”
He called me tiger. He’s all mine. I wiggle my toes and enjoy the view of his bare bottom as he crosses the room.
The condom gets wrapped in a tissue and tossed into my garbage. I make a mental note to bury that tissue under egg yolks, coffee grounds and sibling-repellant.
I pull the covers back and snuggle under them. When Taz lays down beside me and props his head in his hand, I roll to face him and play my fingers over his trapezius muscles. “You’re going to be OK now, right?”
His face softens. His eyes take in my face, one detail at a time, and I swear I hear his thoughts. He says only, “Yeah,” but he’s telling me so much more. He’s offering me more than I dared hope for.
I nudge him onto his back, so I can lean over him and just breathe him in for a second. Then I say his words back to him and make a vow to say them often. “I love you. You know that, right?”
He didn’t know. So I tell him again. And again. Then I show him.
CHAPTER 67
TAZ:
I’m sweaty, shivering, eyes watering from an elbow to the face, and ninety percent sure I’m bleeding from the nose. My back aches, and my heart heaves like a washing machine overloaded with blankets as I dig deep, push off with my toes and run.
A chorus of “You suck!” chases after me. I almost make it. A shove to the ribs staggers me sideways and a yank to the hair pulls me back up. As the ball rolls off my foot, Tia cuts me off and takes it. I get distracted by the curve of her ass, the way the muscles of her body move, but she doesn’t get far. Her brothers are on her faster than a pack of starved hyenas on an overfed rabbit.
Tackle soccer is brutal. The rules change depending on who’s winning, losing, has the ball, yells the loudest or shoves the hardest. I get extra points for carrying Tulip on my shoulders but can’t figure out if the twins are on my team or even on the same team. My personal spider monkey now pats my cheeks with cold little hands, rests her pointy chin on top of my head and something drips into my hair. Since she’s got a stuffy nose, I’m a little worried.
The driveway’s crowded. Along with seven West siblings, there’s Mutt, Shae, Patrick, two dogs tangling between everybody’s feet, and my little step-brother rides around on Big Brother’s shoulders. We also need to be careful not to step on Humphrey, because even though Tia swears the rescued turtle is a temporary visitor, he’s been named and is still around after two weeks.
“Foul!” Tia screams. She’s on hands and knees, the ball long gone, but still crawling toward the goal line, which is designated by water bottles and gets moved a lot. Theo grabs one of her ankles, Mora catches the other, and they drag her backward. My girl’s shouts get louder, “Get off, get off,” and a quick twitch curls my fingers before I shake them loose.
I finally get it. Being with this tribe, watching them trade shoves, insults and laughter, I’m better than I ever was alone. I’ve even figured out most of their names. Thing One and Thing Two are still a mystery.
I offer a hand to Tia, help her up and she hangs on, her fingers naturally threading with mine. I smile back at her for no reason at all. Or maybe because she’s so goddamn pretty, and she’s mine. Or because the things she did to me last night put every fantasy I’ve ever had to shame. Maybe I’m just an idiot. Whatever. OK, I admit it. I’m happy. I’m not gonna burst into song or start pissing sparkles, but things are going halfway good.
My step-dad, who is not actually a douche and only a little bit of a tool, has arranged for me to meet regularly with a head doctor, and the dude is helping me. I haven’t seen my mom and don’t intend to, at least not for a long, long, really long time. I spend a lot of time at this house but don’t actually live here. I moved in with Mutt. Yeah, I’m sleeping on that disgusting couch, and we’re playing gigs nearly every weekend. It looks like the band might have the slim chance of possibly turning into something I could make a living at. We’ll see what happens once I graduate. That’s right. I’m actually going to manage a diploma. After that, when she starts college, Tia and I are talking about getting an apartment together.
Big Brother convinced Tia to apply at the local college, where she’ll still be close to home. It's gonna be awhile before Dad is up and around and Mom can move back. Tia and I visited her dad together last weekend. He’s awake, talking a little, and he recognized me. I’m still breathing, so that went way better than expected.
“I think we’re winning,” my girl tells me. I thought we were on opposite teams. She pushes on my shoulders, gets me to bend so she can kiss first Tulip then me. Her lips linger on mine, and her fingers twist into my shirt. She smells like sugar, tastes like sunshine, and the moments with her are adding up, gradually filling the holes, the leaks and flaws, making me into something so much closer to whole.
Don’t get too excited. Everybody’s not living happily fucken after. But it’s close enough and getting better every day.
THE END
Watch for Shae’s story, SACRIFICE, Book Two in the Choosy Beggar’s series, coming in 2021.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Emily Award Finalist and Melody Of Love Award Finalist, Charisse Moritz divides her life between upstate NY and northern Florida. When not barricaded inside her writing cave or enjoying every possible minute with her husband and three kids, you’ll find her listening to 60’s music, singing off key and looking for ne
w reads.
Additional books by Charisse Moritz include
Shakespeare Burning
He’s the boy who wants to disappear.
One mistake & seventeen-year-old Shake LeCasse lost everything. Now there’s no going back and no way to move forward. The once-popular hockey captain is living in the basement of a grandmother he barely knows, ditching school, avoiding friends & working hard on self-destruction.
She’s the girl nobody sees.
Cleo Lee survives however she can. Lie, cheat, steal, & saving Mr. Popular isn’t part of the plan. Telling him the truth about the night that destroyed his life is downright dangerous. She needs to keep quiet, be smart and let the guy she’s been half in love with since middle school throw away a future she’d do anything to have. Too bad her heat can’t resist, no matter the cost.
Shatter (The Choosy Beggars Series Book 1) Page 35