Until You (Fall Away, #1.5)(29)

I’d spent about an hour getting drunk and catching glimpses of her moving to the music in her hot, strapless black dress, when I’d finally decided to make my move. It didn’t take long to get her in here, and I wasn’t in any hurry to get out, either.

My lips caressed her neck, sweet-smelling and smooth, as my hand glided down her slim body. Her nipple hardened as I lightly brushed it on my way down to her tight stomach.

I ran over her hip bone and reached behind to take a handful of her ass, pulling her up to meet my cock as I kissed her slow and deep. The taste was good. She wasn’t drunk, and she didn’t smoke.

“I’m not a slut,” she said softly, and I held my head up to look at her.

Yeah, I was used to this part. Girls usually felt guilty about being “too easy,” like there was some f*cking double standard that a guy could enjoy sex but not girls.

And what’s worse? Girls were the ones who perpetuated this standard. Guys didn’t use the word “slut”. We didn’t judge. She didn’t need to reassure me of anything.

She looked up at me thoughtfully. “I just…want to get lost for a while.”

And then she dropped her gaze, like some story was going to break through her eyes that she didn’t want me to see. I knew how she felt. I didn’t want anyone to know mine either.

“I’m good at getting lost,” I offered. “Come here.”


Our lips came back together again, and my hand dipped slowly between her legs, losing myself in the moment I wanted. The story behind my eyes that I didn’t want anyone else to see.



“Jared?”

I hear her whisper in my ear, and want to crawl up inside of her voice.

“Jared?” She takes my hand and guides it up her thighs to her heat. “Do you feel me?”

God, her whisper is desperate. She’s raspy and breathless, as if she’s lost all control and will spill over the edge. Like the tiniest thread holding desire and tears at bay, because at any moment she will break and beg for what she wants. The ache is torture.

I open my eyes and see the blue ones I was hoping for, wanting me. Her lip trembles and a light sheen of sweat makes her face glow. She is fire and need in the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.

“Tate?” My voice cracks, not believing she’s letting me touch her like this.

“Do you feel how much I want you? You. Always you, baby,” she pleads and rests her forehead on my chin, and I close my eyes, my blood boiling violently with the need to live in this moment forever.

My skin feels electrified as her hand rests on my jeans, over my dick that I can’t seem to get to stay down around her.

“You want me, too,” she moans, the tip of her tongue leaving a wet, hot trail over my jaw. “I can feel it. Don’t ruin us, baby. I love you.”

My eyes snap open, and I thread my fingers through her hair and hold her head up to face me. “You love me?” I ask wildly.

She doesn’t love me. She can’t.

“Always you. Always yours. Now, take it,” she orders.

I can’t stand the hunger anymore, and I seize what’s mine. I eat up her sweet lips, and we melt in sweat and heat and want nothing except to dive into this dangerous urgency for each other.

I want it all. All of her.



“Are you okay?” a voice, strong and clear, broke through.

I blinked and found myself still in the bathroom, forehead resting on the shoulder of another girl. My eyelashes felt thick, and there was a blur.

What the f*ck?

Was I crying?

Jesus Christ. Motherf*cker!

“Are you okay?” she asked again.

Standing up straight, I looked down at the girl I’d been about to have sex with. Brown eyes stared back at me.

Nausea rolled viciously through my stomach, the alcohol shifting my body from a pleasant fog to agony.

“No, I’m not okay,” I muttered and turned to grip the sink ledge. “Just go on out. I feel sick.”

“Do you want me to get someone?”

“Just go!” I shouted, and she slipped out the door quickly, while I closed my eyes and hardened every muscle in my body, willing the sickness to disappear.

But after a few seconds, I was f*cking done. Here I was, holed up in the bathroom, practically in f*cking tears. And why?

Out of control. That’s what I was. Always out of control.

Picking my toothbrush out of the holder, I jammed it down my throat and emptied everything I’d eaten today into the toilet. Most of it was the alcohol of the last four hours, and it burned like hell as I gripped the sink to the side and leaned over, wrenching.

“Jared, you okay?” someone burst in.

“Goddammit!” I yelled. “Can’t people just leave me the f*ck alone?” I spit up the rest of what was coming up from my stomach and looked over at whoever was at the door.

Shit.

“Jax,” I started but couldn’t finish. He was shrinking away.

He didn’t speak again. Only looked away and backed out of the bathroom, closing the door.

And in that moment, I was no better than our f*cking father.

I knew the look on his face. I’d seen it before. Hell, I’d even worn it myself. Too scared to meet my eyes. Leaving as quietly as you came. Trying to remain off the radar of the drunk lunatic.