Penelope Douglas - Until You

“You shouldn’t go.”

“I want to. And he asked me.” She returned to her work, signaling the end of the discussion.

No fucking way.

My arms burned. I wanted to bring her back into them.

Stepping up behind her, I breathed her in. The top of her head fell just below my chin, and her whole torso—arms included—fit the width of my chest.

She fit.

“Has he been on your mind, Tate?” I inhaled the scent in her hair and braced both of my hands on the table on each side of her, caging her in. “Do you want him? Or is it me you dream of?”

Her hands slowed what they were doing, and I took that as a good sign, so I kept going.

“I said that when I put my hands on you, you’d want it. Remember?” I asked smoothly, trying to touch her with my words.

She paused for a moment and then turned around to look at me. “I don’t think it’s any secret that I like it when you touch me. When you’re ready to tell me everything you’re holding back, then maybe I’ll trust you again. Until then…” And she turned back around, cutting the connection.

I stared at her back, trying to figure out another way in.

She wanted to know shit. I got it.

But that wasn’t going to happen. I didn’t broadcast my problems. And I wasn’t bringing my father into our world.

Backing away, the truth settled in my gut like a rock.

Tate was not going to let this go.

No way, no how.

“Jared? There you are.”

I blinked and shifted my eyes to the doorway where Piper stood in her black and orange cheerleading uniform.

Shit.

“Weren’t you giving me a ride home today?” She put on a show, adjusting her long, dark hair and skirt.

I couldn’t see Tate’s face, but I knew she was annoyed. She concentrated a little too hard on her materials and papers, trying to look busy.

“I’ve got my bike today, Piper.” Which was the truth. Piper had never asked for a ride, not that I was going to give her one anyway.

“I can handle it,” she shot back. “Let’s go. It doesn’t look like you’re busy here anyway.”

Tate wasn’t looking at me, or either of us, and my stomach hollowed like the night I saw some other guy giving her her first kiss.

But I still didn’t want to leave. I’d rather have Tate feeding me her thorns than Piper feeding me her sweets.

But Tate was done. She wouldn’t let me off the hook. At least not today.

Fine, then. I let out a breath and stood up straight.

“Yeah, I’m not busy.” I walked towards the door, feeling colder and colder the farther away from Tate I got.

“So, Terrance?” Piper piped up.

Oh, Jesus. She was talking to Tate.

“You didn’t go and give your Homecoming date a black eye, did you? He can barely see. You should really stop beating up on guys or people will start thinking you’re a dyke.”

Fucking catty girls.

“She didn’t give Madoc a black eye,” I cut in. “I did.”

I didn’t care if Tate knew I was jealous. She definitely knew I wanted her by now.

“Why?” Piper asked.

I ignored the question as we walked out.

I never explained myself.

Thanks for the gift. I texted Tate’s dad.

The huge toolbox he’d given me was used, but it easily would’ve cost $15,000 new. Without it being in mint condition, it still would’ve cost a pretty penny. When it arrived today, I almost had the guy take it back.

But Mr. Brandt knew me. He knew how much I wanted a professional, heavy-duty set like that, and so I took it. It was the first time in a long time that I’d smiled at a gift.

You’re welcome. Sorry it’s late. Anything on Tate? he asked.

The first thing I thought about was the black lingerie I’d seen in her room, and my dick instantly sprang into action when I thought about what she’d look like, wearing that for me.

Hurriedly, I texted A car and tossed my phone on the workbench in the garage, not waiting for a response.

A little weird to be texting the father of a girl I presently had a hard-on for.

“Sam, go get the car gassed up while I shower, would you?” I asked my friend after we’d finished tuning up the Boss.

It was Friday night, and I had a race in an hour. I couldn’t wait to get on the track. My nerves were shot.

I hadn’t been laid in over a month, and the only girl I wanted wasn’t giving me the time of day.

And the worst part?

I’d had more fucking hard-ons lately than in my entire life.

I desperately needed to burn off some steam, and as childish as it sounded, I was hoping some fucking asshole got in my face tonight.

I wanted to be bloody, and I wanted to go deaf.

“Alright.” Sam took the keys. “I’ll be back in twenty.”

He backed out of the garage, while I headed upstairs to clean up.

Tate was home. I saw her pull in a couple of hours ago, and I’d thought about asking her to go with me, but I’d shaken off the idea. She would only push questions I didn’t want to answer and leave me in fucking knots.

“Jesus Christ,” I growled as the cold water hit my body like a fire. The hair on my arms and legs stood on end, and chills erupted across my skin.

Tatum Fucking Brandt.

Wrapping a black towel around my waist, I grabbed another and walked to my bedroom, drying my hair.

I switched on a lamp and walked to my window, looking out through the tree to her bedroom. Her light was on, but she was nowhere in sight. I did a sweep of what I could see of the front and back yards to make sure everything looked safe.

I really hated the idea of her being alone. While I was itching to get out to the Loop tonight, I wanted her where I could see her.

I should just ask her to come.

She’d enjoy it.

Even though Tate was keeping me at a distance, she loved the races. That much I could tell. When we were kids, we’d talked about racing there when we had our own cars.

And if I spent time with her—showed her that I could be trusted—then maybe she’d back off. Maybe she’d forget about the past.

“Jared?”

A soft, low voice ripped through me, and I whipped around, my heart thundering in my chest.

What the hell?

“Tate?” The vision standing in the dark corner of my room startled, confused, and excited me all at the same time.

She was here? In my room?

She stood there, her chin down and her eyes trained on me. She didn’t move a muscle as she waited. She looked like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

“What the hell are you doing in my room?” I asked calmly, more confused than angry.

Our last conversation left me no doubt that she wouldn’t be the one pursuing me, so what the hell was she up to?

She quietly stepped forward, inching towards me. “Well, I thought about what you said about trying to be friends, and I wanted to start by wishing you a happy birthday.”

Huh?

“So you broke into my room to tell me “Happy Birthday” a week after my birthday?” An ounce of pleasure shot through my chest that she remembered, but she was lying. That wasn’t why she was here.

“I climbed through the tree, just like we used to do,” she offered.

“And your birthday’s tomorrow. Can I climb over to your bedroom?” I countered sarcastically. “What are you really doing in here?” I pinned her with hard eyes and came up to her so close that a fire sprang to life in my stomach.

Dammit. I was going to need another shower. Did I have the same effect on her body?

“I…um…” she stammered, and I had to hold back a smile.

She wanted to play games? She had no idea.

Her gaze struggled to meet mine. She couldn’t look away for long, but she couldn’t hold my stare, either.

Finally, she took a deep breath and broke into a shaky half-smile, pushing some hair behind her ear.

“I have something for you, actually.” She leaned in close to my face. “Consider it your present to me as well,” she whispered.

What the…?

Her lips melted into mine, and it was like warm sugar.

Jesus Christ. What was she doing?

Her tight body pressed into mine, and I closed my eyes, a tingling spreading through my hands. The urge to sink my fingers into every curve of her skin was uncontrollable.

Her lips teased and captivated me. She moved her hips into mine in slow, small movements, and her tongue flicked under my top lip, playing with me.

I was in a whole lot of trouble and a world of pain if she stopped.

She wrapped her arms around my neck, and my eyebrows lifted.

Holy shit. She wasn’t ending this. She was grabbing on.

Thank God.

Snaking my arms around her back, I took control and dove into her mouth like I was never going to get this chance again.

I forgot everything. Why she was here. Why she was the one initiating this shit. What she was going to do when we got close to the point of no return.

Who fucking cared?

“Jesus, Tate,” I breathed out, light-headed when she dipped her head into my neck. The pleasure of her lips, tongue, and teeth was a dream come true.

This was Tate, but it wasn’t.

She was wild, kissing and biting me like the night on the kitchen counter. I could feel the way she moved her hips into mine, pressing herself into me.

She was everywhere, and I couldn’t even remember my own name.