“You do realize it’s cloudy and cold, right? We’re the only ones out here right now.” I looked around us. There was an observation area made up and the parking lot was empty besides Stella’s car.
“Mmmhmm. The perfect day. No one to interrupt us.”
“Did you have other plans besides watching?” I squeezed her hand, and she laughed without holding back.
“Is that all that’s on your mind?” she asked with a smile.
“Depends. You’re all that’s on my mind right now and at times, you’re in varying stages of undress. The mind is a wonderful thing.” I gave her a wink, which led to her leaning in for a kiss. It was the perfect kiss. Sultry, smooth, with just a bit of tongue. The moan that came from her made me hard. I was going to have blue balls around her. Constantly.
“So what do we do out here?” There were planes moving in the distance, but this was the first time I’d been out here.
“Wait for the big ones to take off or land. The roar of their engines dwarfs the regional planes. I don’t know why, but I get a rush watching the really big ones take off. I always wonder where they’re going and imagine myself jet-setting away to somewhere exotic, away from all of life’s problems.” There was excitement in her tone.
“Have you ever been anywhere fun and exotic, Stella?” I looked into her eyes and at that moment, I wanted to give her everything she wished for. I wasn’t letting her get away. She was mine.
After a moment, she shook her head slightly. “Sophia is scared of planes so we never went further than random road trips. We weren’t really the normal family anyway, so coming here was my vacation, my getaway. I’d love to see the beach, though. It doesn’t have to be somewhere remote and far away, just somewhere with sand and waves. It’s funny, I keep telling myself that I’ll treat myself one day and hop on a plane, but it’s never happened. Maybe one day, though.” She was staring off into the distance, and I interlaced my fingers on top of hers, hoping that one day she’d be able to have her escape.
“Maybe one day,” I told her and vowed to make her wish a reality.
IT WAS GOING ON A week since that fateful night and Tate was finally coming to the acceptance that Cylas was gone. He’d been holding it together pretty well until today. We were sitting on the couch, watching the movie Pearl Harbor when he finally broke down. He cried in my arms for hours. After that, he locked himself in his room and left me alone in his family room. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do, leave him be or console him?
I’d never really been one who people went to for consoling. I hated to see people who I loved hurt, but I never knew how to help them through the pain. I was the awkward friend who internally wanted to hug you and take all the pain away. In real life though, I sat there and usually held their hand, telling them that they were strong, that they would get through this, and that I’d be there for them. I wasn’t sure if it helped at all but for Tate, I had a need to make him feel better.
And really, who was good at dealing with death and loss? If it was easy for you, then maybe the love wasn’t really there. There were those who became so numb that they blocked out all emotion, but how long would that last? It was just delaying a catastrophic outpour of emotions, waiting to erupt. For Tate, I knew that he had a deep-rooted love for Cylas. A fellowship that bonded them and got them through anything that came their way. They were each other’s yin and yang.
After sunset, the door creaked open but he never came out. I walked in after a few minutes and found him lying on the bed with his phone in his hands. I walked carefully over to his bed, climbed on, and snuggled up beside him. Looking over on the phone, I saw a picture of the guys, all together. They were all sweaty and looked like they had just been playing basketball when the photo was taken. Tate’s arm was around Cylas and they looked as happy as could be. Graham’s head was resting on Trevor’s shoulder and if I could wish for anything, it would be for us to have never gone to the reunion. If we hadn’t or if someone had gotten Victor the help he needed, Cylas would be alive. Tate and I probably would have never reconnected, but I’d take that if it meant lives weren’t lost. That his best friend wasn’t gone.
Little did they know it would be the last photo they took together.
Tate tried not to be vulnerable in public, but he let his guard down around me. At night, he would tell me stories about the crazy shit they used to do and how Cylas was always the grounded one in the group. We laughed, cried some more, and I fell asleep safely in his arms.
Tate was an oxymoron. Like an Oreo. So hard and powerful on the outside. So tender and caring on the inside. He chose which side you saw, and I was grateful for being able to see all of him.
I woke to my shirt lifted up and his mouth on my nipple, suckling and twirling his tongue around the pebbled bud. I squirmed to get more comfortable, staring down at the man who oozed testosterone while spending apt attention to my needy body. His hand moved lower, under my panties, gathering my wetness, and began circling my clit. It felt amazing, having his hands on me. We had messed around some, but nothing like this, nothing this erotically intimate. It felt amazing. I could hear the passion and desire in his heavy breathing, as if he was enjoying this as much as I was.
He hovered over me to spend equal attention on my other breast as his hand below picked up its pace, inserting two rough fingers inside my tight pussy while keeping his thumb pressed firmly against my clit. I couldn’t help but let out a soft moan as his fingers started a ‘come hither’ motion and I was about to lose it.
“Baby, you’re getting so wet. I can feel your muscles tighten around my fingers, but don’t come yet. Not until I’m ready.” He breathed heavily as he watched me climb higher and higher.
Every time I started to climb to orgasm, he’d slow back down and repeat the process. My heels were digging into the mattress and my hands tugged on his hair as I bit my lip, trying to keep quiet. He was torturing me with pleasure and I wanted to beg him to make me come.
Fuck it.
“I need it, Tate. Please let me.”
Giving my nipple a bite, he groaned, “I was waiting for you to beg me. I want to feel you come all over me, no holding back anymore, just feel me. Don’t think about anything but us, right here at this moment.” I closed my eyes in ecstasy, my mouth open wide in bliss as my legs shook from the pleasure exploding through my body. It had been so long since I had been with anyone and no one had ever made me feel quite like this. When I finally opened my eyes, he had a sparkle in his eye that made him look young and mischievous. This boy. Fuck, he did things to me.
I leaned up on my elbows and looked down at his rock hard erection. I licked my lips in appreciation for his impressive size. Before I could say or do anything, he pulled my shirt and panties off and pushed me back onto the mattress, shaking his head with a boyish smile.
Tate apparently knew what he was doing. While I was still high from my orgasm, he settled between my legs and lapped up all my juices, suckling on my sensitive clit. I jerked as his tongue hit my bundle of nerves; over responsive after the orgasm he’d just given me. My breathing was still irregular and I was in awe of this man’s skills. I was sated and he hadn’t even fucked me yet.
When I tried returning the favor, he flipped me over and spanked me. Hard. Instinct kicked in. It all flooded back. I spun my head toward him, trying not to make a big deal about it, and told him, “Can you not do that? Fuck me as hard as you want, just no spanking.” I made sure I had a calm face like it wasn’t a big deal, but I knew the wheels were turning in his head. I had gone back to that place. That dark place I never wanted to relive. The place that changed my life and my relationships.
Please don’t ask any questions I’m not prepared to answer.
“It’s all right, baby. I’ll never do anything you don’t enjoy.” Instead of his hand meeting my flesh again, his lips met my shoulder with a soft kiss. His hand soothed my ass where his handprint was surely glowing. He slowed things down and laid me on my back, kissing e
very inch of my body as he let me slowly come back to him. I was grateful for his tenderness with the situation. We had never brought up much about the past but words weren’t needed between us for him to realize what he was dealing with. I had baggage, like many women did, and he didn’t run from me. He wasn’t focused on getting himself off; he waited until I was back in the moment, begging him to take me.
“You sure? We don’t have to go any further right now.” He swept a piece of hair out of my face, and I nodded, never being so sure of anything in my life.
“I’m not fragile. I want you just as much as you want me.” I glanced down at his erection that was pressing against my thigh. It was hard as steel. I felt irresistible and desired.
He took a moment, gazing into my eyes, before grabbing a condom from his pants and then slowly rolling it over himself. Tate guided his hard cock slowly inside me and I gasped from the fullness I felt. I couldn’t help it and when I looked up, he had a strained expression on his face.
“Am I hurting you? We can stop if—”
“Don’t you dare stop,” I interrupted before he could finish his thought. My demand brought a smile to his lips. He withdrew himself nearly all the way out, leaving just the tip of his cock inside of me before pressing himself back in a smooth gliding motion. He worked me gently at first, taking his time and driving me crazy with how incredible he felt. He grabbed hold of both of my hands and held them firmly above my head, holding me in place. I wrapped my legs around his back and dug my heels into his firm ass.
“Do you know how beautiful you look right now? I love looking down at you and seeing your body writhe beneath me. Watching you is making it so hard for me not to come and your pussy fits so perfectly around my cock. Tell me how you want me to fuck you.”
“Tate, it feels so good. Please don’t stop.”
“Tell me how you want it. Do you like it soft and slow? Feeling every inch of my cock work in and out of your pussy? Or do you want it hard and fast?” He slammed deep inside me to show me exactly what he was offering and then stopped, waiting for me to answer.
“Oh God, Tate, please move. I need you to keep moving.”
“Tell me what you want and I will; it’s a simple question, sweetheart.”
“Hard! I want it hard!” I screamed to give him the answer he wanted. Bastard.
He eased back out of me slowly, tormenting me with every inch before slamming back into me in one hard, swift movement.
“Like that, baby?” he teased, knowing exactly what he was doing to me.
“Yes, God, yes!” I tilted my hips up to meet his thrusts, causing him to go even deeper.
“Fuck. That’s it, baby girl.” He groaned as he continued to pound into me, his skin now glistening with a thin layer of sweat.
He started grinding his hips in a circular motion and I was done for. Hitting my G-spot perfectly with each glorious stroke, I couldn’t hold back as I came long and hard, crying out in ecstasy as I rode out wave after wave of the now most intense orgasm I’d ever received. His uncontrolled thrusts told me that he was getting close.
“Stella, your pussy is squeezing me perfectly. I’m going to come—oh, fuck!” he yelled my name in bliss as he pistoned into me with his release.
He collapsed, sweaty and out of breath, on top of me before flipping me over on top of him, his cock still halfway inside my soaked pussy. I was still coming down from my high when he told me, “Sex has never felt like that before, with anyone. You might be my addiction.”
I couldn’t hide the grin on my face, hoping this feeling would never fade away. What I didn’t say was that he was my addiction as well. One I hoped I’d never have to overcome.
Sleep was calling my name but Tate was still awake. I knew I should have talked to him, to explain, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready. I hadn’t planned on him being in my life or anyone for that matter. I realized that night that I was falling for Tate and there was no turning back. He’d find out, one way or another, about my past.
CYLAS’ FUNERAL WAS IN just a few hours. I hadn’t planned on going but upon Tate’s insistence and near meltdown this morning, I was dressed in a modest black dress, getting ready to go to another funeral. It’d be the third this week of victims and the second that we’d be attending.
To be honest, I didn’t feel worthy of being there. I didn’t know him from Adam, and while I wanted to be there to support Tate and to pay respects to a fallen classmate, I still felt a twinge of uncertainty with the situation.
It had taken three days to find out who had died in the massacre. Three days. Three days of not knowing who had survived and who had not. We’d known about Cylas’ death and Tate told me about Rachel, but otherwise, we were left in the dark. It was torturous, not knowing. By now though, he’d been in contact with the rest of his friends, and beside some minor injuries and Graham’s broken leg, everyone was doing okay. As okay as everyone could be at this point.
I was terrified of what people would think when they saw us together at Rachel’s funeral. We had spent the majority of the past week together but no one really knew about that. Her funeral was yesterday and most of our classmates were there. Some said she was the glue that kept us all together; that she was friends with everyone and didn’t see our class as having cliques, but more so being a big family. She and I were never close but Tate, again, insisted that I join him.
Tate walked out of his bedroom with his tie slung loosely around his neck and his shoulders sagging.
“I don’t think I’m going. Can you call Graham and let him know?” Tate was pacing across the kitchen, sweat beading down his beautifully chiseled face. His body was pure perfection, but he was broken. His body lacked its usual confident composure. He used to walk with purpose, with determination, but now, his shoulders hunched over slightly. Now, it was just a burden. Rachel’s funeral had been tough on him, but this would be the hardest, without question.
“You’re going, and I’ll be by your side the entire time. Cylas was your best friend. You have to be there. The guys will be there, and you’ll get through this together. Graham’s waiting on us, and I don’t want to make him wait. After it’s all over, we can escape back into your room and shut everyone out for the night. Deal?” I walked up to him and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. He pulled me closer, deepening the kiss. His tongue traced my lips and I allowed him in, our tongues dancing the perfect rhythm. Our rhythm. I felt his erection pressing against my belly, and I suddenly wished we had more time. He smelled so manly, freshly shaven and showered. Imagining his hands on my body, giving just as much as he took, I pulled away before we passed the point of no return.
“Thank you for being the strong one right now. It means more than you know.” He looked down at me with half-lidded eyes.
“We’re in this together. I’ll always be there for you. Are you okay to drive?” I tugged on his jacket, holding onto him for just one more moment. Being this close to him comforted me, and I needed it. He needed me to be strong for him, but if he only knew, he was the one giving me my strength.
“Yeah. You said Graham’s coming with us? Did you talk to him today? How’s he doin’?” he asked as he gathered his phone, keys, and sunglasses. “Ready, Stells?”
“His surgery went well. The painkillers make him loopy, but he sees his leg as a reminder of that night. I think going there together might be good for both of you. You both lost your friend and were both injured in the crossfire. Use that bond to help each other. I was thinking we should have him over for dinner one night, get him out of his house and socializing a bit. From what I’ve gathered, he’s still in the ‘I want to be alone forever, go away’ stage that you went through not too long ago.” We were in the car and headed for his place. With Graham’s hurt leg, he had to keep it straight, which meant he was stuck in the backseat for the next week or two. Tyler had been sending me updates on the boys, and I thought Graham was taking it the hardest. “Do you know how well Tyler’s handled this situation? I didn’t know him
before, but he really seems to be taking charge and being there for all of you. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that doesn’t seem his style.”
Tate broke out into a laugh. “No, that was definitely not Tyler’s style before this. He was the crazy bachelor who only had pussy on his mind. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if the fucker would ever grow up. Guess we kinda forced his hand.” Tate glanced over at me a few times as we made the short drive to Graham’s home.
I let Tate go in by himself, figuring they might need a minute together to ready themselves to bury their friend. Grabbing my purse, I figured I could check the Facebook group that had been created for the victims and survivors to see if there had been any updates. I cursed myself for forgetting my phone on the charger. My mind had been so preoccupied this morning with dealing with Tate that I’d forgotten all about it.
I rolled down the window and took in the crisp fall air, trying to give myself a moment of peace before the boys got in the car and we made our way to another funeral. Five minutes later, I heard them before I saw them. Graham was crutching out to the car with Tate next to him, ready to catch him if he fell. It was a cute sight, really. Tate watched every move and literally had his hands in a catching position next to Graham. Halfway to the car, Graham hit Tate with his crutch and made him walk ahead to open the door. The action caused both men to laugh and I couldn’t help but be thankful for it. Lord knew the boys needed all the happiness and love they could get right now, and while Tate and I had each other, Graham sounded like he’d shut out everyone, even his family.
“Sophia?” Graham asked as he slid into the backseat. “That you?”
“Wrong sister, Graham. I’m Stella.” I was used to the mistake. Sophia and I couldn’t be more different in personality, but when people saw us on the street, they constantly confused us. Especially when she ‘dressed down’ or I put on nicer clothes. Not that what I wore was shabby, but I didn’t care about the latest designers or this season’s new colors.
Deceitfully (Sinfully Series) Page 9
