Unforgettable

by Shantel Tessier

  He plunges two fingers deeply into me and I pull away, still sensitive. “Sit still,” he says as his other hand grips my hip tightly. The feel of his fingers inside me, stretching, is burning and enjoyable at the same time.

  I relax as he pulls them out but he then pushes them in again, roughly this time. “Fuck,” he hisses. “This pussy is so fucking wet.” I moan as he moves his fingers inside of me. “So fucking tight,” he growls as he shifts on his knees.

  I groan in disappointment when he pulls them out and leaves me feeling empty.

  “Face down,” he demands, placing his hand on my back, forcing my chest and face down onto the bed. I whimper as I feel my ass up in the air before him. “Such a pretty pink pussy,” he murmurs in appreciation.

  He leans over my back as he positions his dick between my legs. I tense as I feel the head at my entrance. “Relax,” he orders through gritted teeth as he enters me from behind.

  I close my eyes tightly as I scream out as he stretches my sex. My heart pounds against the mattress as I take a few deep breaths. It feels just as good as I remember. I like that burning sensation that I get only when he stretches me.

  He growls. “Fuck.” His hands tighten on my hips as they dig into my skin. His knees push against mine spreading my legs even further apart.

  He pulls back “Fuck, baby,” he repeats. “Feels so fucking good.” He slams into me, and I gasp.

  He pulls back and does it again and I arch my back as my hands dig into the sheets. He lets go of my hip and his free arm reaches around. It finds its way to my clit, and he massages it roughly—pinching and pulling—while his hips work back and forth in a fast pace.

  I gasp for air as my body shakes and my skin breaks out in a thin layer of sweat as I feel the sensation start to build up again. “God,” I say through clenched teeth. Trying to ignore the pain and only find the pleasure. The pleasure that only he can bring me.

  “Come,” he orders. “I want you to come all over my cock this time, baby.” He pulls back and thrusts forward. His fingers pinch my clit and I cry out into the pillow letting go once again.

  He slows down and leans over my back as my body shakes still propped up on my knees. His lips softly land on my shoulder and he whispers, “You sound so sexy when you come.”

  “Tate…” My voice is hoarse and my throat is dry.

  “Hmm?” he mumbles before sucking my earlobe into his mouth. “We’re not done, sweetheart.” I whimper. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard and for so long that no other man will ever satisfy you again,” he says matter-of-fact.

  I know him seeing me with Braxton tonight is the only reason he brought me over here, and honestly it’s the only reason I came. I am the girl who Braxton mistakened me for. I’m the stupid girl who will tell herself a lie in order to get what she wants and I want Tate. Even if it is just sex.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  TATE

  “I wouldn’t do that. I love you,” she cries as I come up to the front door.

  “Lies,” he shouts before I hear him slap her.

  I try desperately to get the right key in the front door. My heart pounds and my hands shake. In an effort to move better, I throw my backpack to the ground.

  “Please?” she sobs, and my chest tightens. He loves it when she begs. Why does she give him what he wants? “You have to believe me.” Her words come out slurred from her desperate attempt to keep him from beating her.

  “Last chance. Where the fuck was your son today? Is he over at that whore and her little bitch’s house?”

  I fumble the keys and curse myself for dropping them. Screw this! I run over to the living room window and pick up a rock from the garden. As soon as the glass shatters, I jump through the window, cutting myself in several places. I ignore the pain and run through the house until I come sliding into the kitchen.

  She looks up to him with big eyes and he goes to walk away from her but she clings to his leg like a small child would a comforting teddy bear. I don’t understand why she wants him to stay. Why she lets him do this to her.

  “No,” she cries but as soon as the words leave her mouth he shoves her back down to the ground.

  I watch as he turns and looks right at me. His blue eyes are narrowed and jaw tight. “Where the fuck have you been, son?” he demands.

  “I’m not your son,” I shout, not caring to fill the drunk bastard in on the fact that I had school today. Just like every other day. I’m only ten after all.

  His nostrils flare and his eyes stare into mine as his anger festers. “I will teach you some fucking manners,” he snaps before he comes charging at me.

  My mom screams and I only take a second to look down at her as she crawls on the kitchen tile, but that second was all that he needed. I blink looking up to the ceiling as I lie on the kitchen floor with him sitting on top of me. Splitting headache and aching back, I throw my hands up to protect my face. I try to be brave and stand up to him, but I lose every time. I’m only ten and the bastard has over a hundred pounds on me.

  My mom jumps on his back and he leans up before tossing her to the side like a rag doll.

  He turns back to me and I see stars before me as his right fists connects with my jaw. He goes to throw another one when I reach up and block it.

  “Who the hell am I?” he demands as he grabs my shirt and pulls my head up off the floor. “Who the fuck am I?” he yells, and the smell of alcohol fills my nose.

  “My dad,” I say, giving up the fight. He could go at it for hours until he passes out. And lately that’s late into the morning hours.

  He lets go of my shirt and my head falls to the floor once again. He pulls his arm back as if he’s gonna hit me and I flinch. The bastard laughs at me.

  A loud scream comes through my dream. I sit up in bed, breathing heavy and sweating. The darkness has me disoriented but I hear a soft cry from beside me. I turn on the lamp next to my bed and look over to the blonde lying beside me.

  Missy is sitting next to me with her hand over her face and blood running down her chin.

  “Missy?” I croak out. “What’s wrong?” I ask leaning over to her but she pulls away. Did I do that to her?

  “I’m okay,” she says quietly.

  “What happened?” I ask, fear gripping my chest.

  “I…I’m sorry. I was just trying to wake you…”

  “I did that to you?” I interrupt her in horror.

  Her eyes are watery and she holds her hand over her nose. She’s wearing a white t-shirt of mine and a couple of drops of blood fall off of her hand and land on the shirt. I’m gonna be sick. I hurt her!

  “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…”

  “It’s okay, Tate,” she says sitting up and crawling out of bed. Keeping her back to me, she makes her way to the bathroom and shuts the door.

  I throw back the covers and jump out of bed. I make my way to the kitchen and grab the first thing I see, a bottle of Jack. I take a big swig and let the burn welcome me. What the fuck is wrong with me? Do I always move around when I have nightmares of my past? I’ve never hurt another woman like that before. But then again, not many stay the night.

  “Tate?”

  I look up from the floor and see her standing in the doorway of the kitchen. The bleeding has seemed to stop and she washed her face, but there is still some blood on my shirt that she wears.

  “You need to leave.” I look back down to the floor. I’ve turned into him. I have officially harmed the woman who makes me want more than what I have. The one woman who gives me hope at something better.

  “I’m okay,” comes her quiet voice.

  “I said you need to leave,” I hiss.

  “I’m not leaving you like this, Tate,” she argues.

  I laugh but it holds no humor. She’s just as stupid as my mother was. At least Missy and I don’t have a child in the middle of this mess.

  She takes a step toward me. “You’re not like your dad.”

  My back stiffens and my body goes cold. I
slowly look up at her and I see her blinks a few times.

  “What did you say?” I’m surprised how calm my voice is. My blood is boiling and my anger is at an all-time high. Teeth clenched and fists tightening, I wait for her answer. I had to have heard her wrong.

  She swallows nervously. “I said, you’re not like you’re father,” she whispers this time. “In your dream. You said dad…”

  I reach back behind me onto the counter and wrap my fist around the neck of the Jack bottle and throw it across the room. It hits the front of the fridge and shatters, spreading glass and liquid all over the kitchen. Missy jumps back with a yelp.

  “He is not my father,” I roar. I face her with my hands clenched down to my sides and my nostrils flared. I feel like I am about to snap at any second. If she continues to stay here, she will for sure be getting a show.

  She takes a timid step toward me and I take a step back. “Leave,” I demand.

  “No,” she says firmly.

  “I need you to leave,” I say as I feel my wound up body loosen. I’m about to have a fucking breakdown. What the fuck is wrong with me? I haven’t felt this much sadness since I was a kid.

  She comes right up to me and places her hands on my chest. I pull back, not wanting the contact, but now she has me pinned against the counter.

  “Why are you still here?” I whisper. “You’re not safe around me,” I say truthfully. I’m surprised she’s even still here after last night. Once again I used her like she was my own personal fuck toy that I could play with. I fucked her harder than I should have and it felt amazing. I treated her as if she was another one of my whores just needing a release. And although it was wrong, I don’t regret it. It felt too good to regret.

  She lets a tear fall down her cheek and I instantly reach up and wipe it off with my thumb. “It was just a dream, Tate. You didn’t mean to hurt me.”

  “But I did. I…” And if you continue to give me the opportunity, I will.

  “You didn’t do it on purpose.”

  “The Jack…” I say gesturing to the spilled liquid and glass that now covers the floor. The man was not my father but I did learn how to behave like an animal from him.

  “You were mad, Tate. I shouldn’t have mentioned him. I’m sorry.” Another tear runs down her cheek.

  Instead of wiping it away, I wrap my arms around her and pull her body into mine. I know she’s better off distancing herself from me but I want to hold her close. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper as I kiss her hair. When she doesn’t say anything I pull her back so I can look down at her. “Aren’t you afraid?” Tell me I’m a monster and that I scare you to death. It would make this easier on both of us.

  “The only thing I’m afraid of is that you will continue to go through this by yourself. Let me in, Tate. I just want to help you.”

  I swallow nervously. “I’m scared,” I say honestly. My voice shakes and it makes my jaw tighten. Fucking pussy, is what he had always said to me.

  “Of what?”

  I lift my hands, cradling her face in my hands. “Of hurting you. You don’t understand what I’m capable of. I do. And believe me when I say, I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Another tear rolls down her cheek and I wipe it away with the pad of my thumb. “I’m scared, too. I’m scared that you won’t allow me the chance to show you that I’m here for you.”

  I swallow back the fear that I will eventually hurt her, because it will happen. All I can do is hope that she can save me before I have to save her from myself.

  MISSY

  I lie next to Tate in his bed. It’s still nighttime because the room is dark. I can tell he’s still awake, though, by the beat of his heart and his breathing. I was sound asleep when he started talking in his sleep. He was calling someone a bastard and yelling dad. Then he started tossing and turning. I sat up and leaned over him trying to wake him up, and that’s when his hand came up and made contact with my nose. He didn’t slap me. It was as if he was placing his hands up to shield himself but I was in the way.

  I don’t know much about Tate’s past. I also haven’t known for very long that he is Sam’s brother. We were all gathered around in the waiting room at the hospital, waiting to hear any news on Sam after Parker had brought her in from her car wreck when we all found out.

  I look up at Slade. He’s got his elbows placed on his knees and his head between his hands. He’s silent but you can tell by the shaking of his body that he’s crying over his wife. His pregnant wife who’s in surgery after her car accident.

  Parker gets my attention on the other side of the waiting room as he runs the sleeve of his cop uniform under his nose, letting it catch a drop of blood. Slade had punched him pretty good I guess. I’m not sure what exactly happened between them. I only got here a few minutes ago. But I was told that Slade punched him pretty good.

  My eyes shoot back over to Slade as he stands quickly. He runs his hand down his face before wiping them on his pants. “How’s my wife?” his panicked voice asks as the doctor approaches him.

  “She’s stable.”

  He releases a long breath but his posture remains stiff. “Our child? Is it okay?” Slade asks.

  “The baby is doing well. We are closely monitoring it.”

  Slade’s shoulders fall as he runs a hand through this dark hair. “Thank you,” he says before he pulls him in for a hug.

  The doctor doesn’t seem unaffected by Slade’s gratitude. I’m sure he gets this stuff all the time. He clears his throat and pulls away from Slade. “She has lost a lot of blood. If she has anymore internal bleeding, she may need a blood transfusion.”

  Tate jumps to his feet. “I’m her brother. I can give her blood.”

  Everyone’s head turns to look at him with open mouths, except for Parker and Slade. What? Did I hear him right? He’s her brother?

  The doctor looks at him and nods. “I would like a nurse to take some blood and see if you are the same type. If so, we will wait and see where we need to go from there.”

  Tate nods his head and follows after the doctor without another word.

  “What?” Slade’s mother, Vivian, looks at him. “Did you know this?”

  Slade nods. “I’ve known since I proposed to her in New York. Jack was his father.”

  “Tate?” I say softly.

  “Hmm?” His chest rumbles as he answers.

  I roll over onto my side and place an arm over his chest. “Will you tell me something?” I ask cautiously.

  He lets out a long breath as if he knew this conversation was going to come. “What do you want me to tell you?” he asks in the darkness.

  “Will you tell me what you were dreaming about?” His relaxed body instantly stiffens after I finish that question.

  I’ve known this guy for years. I was seventeen and in high school when I first met him. He was working for my father at his repair shop. It didn’t take me long to fall in love with him, but he’s so secretive. He keeps everything inside.

  “No.” His deeps voice cuts through my thoughts.

  No? I roll onto my back and look up into the darkness. Maybe if I give him something he will do the same in return. “I quit school,” I say to the silence, and I actually smile to myself. That was the first time I actually came out and told someone. It’s amazing how much one little lie can hold you down.

  “What?” he asks and then I feel him shifting around, turning over onto his side to face me.

  “I said I quit school.” It felt even better the second time. “Months ago.” I place my hands on my stomach. “I’ve been lying to everyone. Making them think I have been going.” Braxton was the only one I’ve told that I’m just taking a semester off.

  “Why did you quit?”

  My heart starts to pound in my chest. I didn’t think this through very well. That’s the one thing I can’t tell him. He can’t know that he was the one who led me to quitting school. “Other things just became more important,” I say trying to forget that awful day when Braxto
n rushed me to the hospital. I was in so much pain that I couldn’t even sit up.

  “Like?”

  “The bakery.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I had missed so much when Sam needed me. When Jeremy had taken her and then her and Slade’s wedding. Yet she still offered me a job at the bakery and I wanted to help her out.” That is the truth.

  I feel his rough knuckles lightly graze my cheek. “Does Sam know you quit school?”

  “No. And I don’t want her to know. She would probably fire me and tell me to go back to school.”

  He chuckles softly. “She would do just that.”

  I think of our night together last night, my legs are sore and my thighs ache from what I allowed him to do to me. It’s amazing how much a person can enjoy pain.

  “I’ve only ever slept with you,” I admit aloud, and his chuckling stops. I just could never do it with Braxton. We had only been dating for a couple of weeks when he rushed me to the hospital. It was bad, I honestly thought that I was going to die. I had trouble even breathing.

  I’ve slept in his bed in just my underwear and t-shirt plenty of times, and we kissed, but it never went past that.

  “Why are you telling me this?” he asks quietly.

  “You asked me at the party if I was still sleeping with Braxton. And then you mentioned him against last night while we were in bed… I want you to know that I never slept with him. We dated but I was never ready to take that step with him. He didn’t push it.”

  “Did I hurt you?” he asks softly once he realizes that was only my second time to ever have sex.

  Did it hurt? Absolutely. Was it worth it? Absolutely. “No,” I lie and he lets out a little laugh knowing that I lied.

  We lie there together in the darkness as silence fills the room once again. I try to close my eyes to get some sleep but I can’t. My mind is keeping me awake. This is all I’ve wanted. For him to want me. For him to love me the way I love him. I know that will never happen but I wish he would give me a little bit more of himself. I wish he would open up to me and let me help him. No one can fight demons on their own.