Until You (Fall Away, #1.5)(92)

I didn’t know, until recently, about Tate’s survival tactics with me. They were things she always carried on her when she went to parties or other social gatherings in high school.

Emergency type objects that she used to escape me if she needed. Money, phone, and car keys.

“Yeah.” I ran a hand through my hair, droplets falling to my face. “When you told me on our way to Chicago about how you always wanted your escape plans when dealing with me in the past, I didn’t want you to see me that way anymore.”

“I don’t—” She shook her head.

“I know,” I interrupted. “But I want to make sure I never lose your trust again. I want to be one of your lifelines, Tate. I want you to need me. So...” I pointed to the bracelet. “The heart is me. One of your lifelines. I took Jax with me today to pick it out.”

I should’ve just gotten her a bracelet with a heart. That’s it. A f*cking heart. That was all she needed. I was the one to keep her safe. I was the one she’d run to—if Tate ran to anybody at all—for help or comfort.

“How is your brother?” She brought me out of my thoughts.

“He’s hanging in there,” I offered. “My mom is working with a lawyer to try to get custody. He wants to meet you.”

And he did. My brother’s words, “I wanna meet the girl that’s made you so boring.”

Such a little shit.

“I’d love to,” she said softly, and my heart swelled as I watched her twirl the bracelet around her fingers, studying it with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Put it on me?” she asked, and I tried to ignore the tear that fell down her cheek. I hoped it was a happy tear, and all of a sudden, I couldn’t wait for her father to relax on the rules of how much time we were allowed to be together. I damn well needed to touch her.

And soon.

We were eighteen, but we both respected her dad. But in his head—and probably most father’s heads—eighteen was still too young for the stuff I wanted to do to her.

For the stuff I’d already done to her.

I worked the clasp, fastening it to her wrist, and then pulled her onto my lap so that she straddled me.

Oh, Christ.

She wrapped her arms around my neck, her center grinding on me, and I closed my eyes for second.

It’d been too long.

Okay, only a week, but still.

When you’ve tasted the one thing that fills you up, it’s impossible not to want more of it.

A lot more.

She leaned down, melting her soft, sweet lips to mine, and I held her hips tight. I knew I couldn’t stay, but I didn’t want to stop, either.

“Jared,” a deep male voice threatened, and we both jerked our heads to the door.

Shit. Tate’s dad.

I sighed, shaking my head.

“You need to go home now,” he ordered me through the closed door. “We’ll see you for dinner tomorrow night.”

Awesome.

My body was screaming, but what could I tell him?

Hey, I need your daughter for about three hours or until she passes out from exhaustion? Or, would you mind if I slept over, because I never sleep so well as when Tate’s lips are buried in my neck?

Yeah, I snorted, that’d go over really well. “Yes, sir,” I responded, and I could feel Tate’s body shaking with silent laughter.

I looked back to her. “I guess I need to go.”

She held my shirt, touching her nose to mine. “I know,” she said reluctantly. “Thank you for my bracelet.”

I climbed off the bed and kissed the hell out of her before we said goodbye. She damn well wasn’t making it easy, either, looking at me like she wanted to eat me.

But I did as I was told—for now—and climbed back through the tree.

Now, I was actually thrilled that Mr. Brandt had never cut this thing down.

Wait…he might now, though.

I laughed to myself as I crawled back through my window, waved to her, and shut off the lights.

The hard-on in my pants hadn’t lessened, and I was half-tempted to bring her back to my room.

Another cold shower night.

Making my way to the bathroom, I felt my phone vibrate against my thigh, and I grabbed it out of my pocket.

Looking at the screen, I had an urge to flush it down the toilet.

K.C.





I groaned.

It was late, and she and I weren’t chatty. What the hell did she want?

Sliding the screen, I answered. “Yeah?”

“I have something for you,” she sang, her voice slow and sultry and way too unnerving.

I straightened my shoulders, tensing. “I’m sure I’m not interested,” I said flatly, turning on the shower.

“Oh, you will be.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “I’m at Madoc’s house. Hurry or we’ll start without youuuu.”

Jesus. I wasn’t one to judge, but K.C. could be a little stupid sometimes. Right now, however, she just seemed drunk.

“Put him on the phone,” I ordered, my patience circling the drain.

I heard her giggle before the rustle on the other end.

“Dude, just get over here,” Madoc laughed, keeping his voice low. “You’ll want a piece of this.”

What the f*ck? “Of K.C.?”