Chapter Ten #3
We get out of bed and walk through the house.
The kitchen lights are still on, but the darkness outside, combined with the storm, makes it impossible to know exactly where the noise is coming from.
We must’ve forgotten to put something away, and it’s banging against the house.
I check the French doors that lead to the back porch, but I can’t see anything even with the floodlights on outside.
The noise doesn’t come again, but now I’m wide awake.
“Now we’re awake,” Tucker says softly, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. I can’t have that.
“Guess it’s time for a dance party.”
Tucker visibly brightens. “Really?”
“Really.”
“I’ll grab my phone.” Tucker disappears down the hallway, and I watch him go without a trace of embarrassment. He’s always pretty, but something about a comfortable Tucker really does it for me. Maybe it’s more that he’s comfortable in my home than anything else.
I’m sitting on the couch petting Cupcake when Tucker returns, phone in his hand.
He’s scrolling thoughtfully through his phone, no doubt trying to find the very best playlist for our impromptu hurricane party.
Because Tucker is always going to surprise me, he lands on a 1990s playlist. Cupcake dances between us as we sway our hips to Salt-N-Pepa, Aaliyah, and Mariah Carey.
Tucker’s eyes are closed, a smile on his lips, and his arms are in the air as he dances without any hint of worry.
I stop dancing and just stand to watch him, only worrying about how I look when his eyes open to catch mine.
“U Got It Bad” by Usher comes on and Tucker’s movements slow, his hips taking on a slow whirl instead of an upbeat dance.
He takes a step closer into my space, wrapping his palms around my overheated neck.
Again, out of instinct, I wrap my arms around his waist, letting him lead us in a sensual sway that makes the living room feel one hundred million degrees too warm.
He sings some of the words slowly to me, then glides his hands down my arms to use his grip to push me toward the sofa.
I fall in a helpless heap, limbs gangly and uncoordinated.
I can’t help but stare up at him in amazement as he fits himself between my spread legs, still dancing as the song goes on.
“Tucker,” I say reverently, putting every emotion I can think of into his name.
“Tonight doesn’t count,” Tucker says quietly. “Hurricane rules. We can do anything, and it won’t count in the morning. Kinda like Vegas.”
“I don’t want it to not count,” I tell him, because it’s true. I want every moment to count.
“Fuck,” Tucker swears just before crashing down into me, his gently muscled arms going around my neck and his lips feverishly moving against mine.
He tastes like toothpaste, sleep, and a breath after years of being underwater.
I wrap my arms around his back, turn to the side, and collapse to the sofa so he falls on top of me.
He grunts against my mouth but doesn’t stop kissing me.
Every glide of his lips feels like new life, feels like my heart might explode from the promise of the future.
I can’t imagine never kissing him again.
I have to show him that kissing me is safe, that giving me his heart will be a painless exercise, despite what that piece of shit did to him in the past. I can’t imagine ever talking down to Tucker.
I can’t imagine ever making him sad on purpose. His lips were made to smile.
Tucker frames my face with his hands as he tilts my head to the side, licking into my mouth like he can’t get enough of me. Like he wants to consume me. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him as close as I can get him. He groans deeper into my mouth, teeth nipping at my bottom lip.
“Shirt off, shirt off,” I mumble against Tucker’s addictive mouth.
“Fuck,” Tucker swears for the second time in the span of minutes.
He leans back, tugs off his shirt, and my stomach swoops with desire.
Even in the dark I can tell his eyes are blown with want, lips parted as he breathes quickly, as if he can’t even try to catch his breath while looking down at me.
I want this man in my bed, I want him pressed against me, but I’m also conscious of the speed in which we’re moving and how maybe he’s not ready for it.
“I want you,” Tucker says against my mouth just before kissing me breathless again.
His lips are lush, his mouth wet, and my toes curl as he kisses me like only the two of us exist in the world.
Like all points narrow in on us, only our mouths exist as his tongue sweeps into my mouth.
Well, there goes the thought of slowing down.
Yeah, I want him too, but I don’t think tonight is the night. It’s too soon for him, for us.
“Wait,” I say lowly enough to not frighten him. Tucker pulls away, all kiss-bitten lips and wide eyes, pupils blown so wide I can barely see the blue. “Wait, sorry. I… I think we should go slow. It’s been a while for me.”
Tucker leans up on his arms, an angel above me in the glow of the hurricane-dark room.
He lifts his left hand to swipe his thumb over my lips, and I gasp against his lust-warmed skin.
He dips his thumb inside with his lips parted wide open in awe.
I suck on his thumb, swirling my tongue around the pad of it, wanting to taste every inch of him.
Tucker looks stunned, and that look alone makes me feel invincible.
“We should be very mature adults and have the sex talk,” Tucker whispers, just before groaning when I suck his thumb deeper into my mouth.
Suddenly, his thumb is gone and his mouth is covering mine again.
I’m a few inches taller than him, broader than him in every way, but Tucker makes me feel small as he cages me in.
His mouth moves like a landslide over mine.
Everything is tumbling down, down, down, until all I can think of is Tucker over and above me. Only Tucker.
His hand disappears under my shirt, and my stomach fucking trembles at the hesitant touch.
He’s so careful with me, despite my size.
Tucker grins against my mouth before kissing me deeper, his tongue licking into my mouth like I’m a map, and he’s the navigator.
My heart trembles at the same time my stomach tightens with want.
I squeeze my thighs around his hips, canting up until I feel the hard length of him against my ass. Tucker gasps and pulls away, then buries his face in my neck with a pained groan.
His hands settle on my ribs as he takes a stuttering breath to seemingly calm himself down.
I made him feel that way. It was me. Now comes the hard part.
I’ve had trouble with hookups in the past, not that Tucker is a hookup, but people see the height and weight of me, see the sport I play, and make assumptions that are unfair.
Nerves bubble in my belly at the idea of Tucker being disappointed in me like so many other lovers have been.
I push against Tucker’s chest until he sits up between my legs.
I tightly squeeze my eyes shut to stop myself from moaning indecently at the sight.
Don’t imagine him fucking you, I whisper in my head over and over until I’ve calmed down.
When I blink my eyes back open, Tucker is staring at me like he’s trying to permanently etch me into his memory bank.
“Talk,” Tucker says like he can’t manage any other words.
“Talk,” I quietly agree. I sit up and shimmy away until my back hits the other end of the sofa, putting a decent amount of space between us.
A hail of wind whistles through the window, and I shiver at the sudden coldness of the room.
Tucker narrows his eyes, grabs the blanket off the back of the couch, and tosses it over me, his palm brushing against my knee causing a bevy of shivers, but not from being cold.
“So?”
“I’m a bottom.”
Tucker blinks syrupy slow. “Bottom.”
“Yes, me. I don’t like to top. I don’t enjoy it.”
Tucker clears his throat, a flush working its way up his neck and over his cheeks. “I didn’t expect that.”
Of course, most people don’t. Charles Augustin should be a big, strong top. I’ve crumbled under less pressure. I curl in on myself, tugging the blankets higher in an attempt to hide away.
“Hey,” Tucker says softly, reaching forward to rest his palms on my knees. “I’m not upset or disappointed. Just surprised! I’ve only topped twice in my life, neither experience was great, but I think it would be different with you.”
I can’t help but smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Tucker says, voice rougher and lower than just a second ago. “But we don’t have to do that tonight. Thank you for telling me. Maybe tonight we just kiss and frot?”
I nod furiously, laughing loudly when Tucker covers my body with his again, big and warm and broad.
How can someone smaller than me be so much bigger?
Make it make sense. I welcome him back between my thighs, twining my legs around his waist as he slants his mouth over mine.
I wrap my arms around him, pressing my hands into the small of his back to encourage him to rub against me.
My cock is so hard I think I might explode.
Either that or come in my pants. Tucker rocks against me, his cock sliding against mine through our sweatpants.
He pulls away enough to sneak his hand between us, hurriedly pushing down both of our sleep pants.
I let out a gasp when his warm cock presses against mine, his broad palm wrapping around both of us.
It’s dry, and not exactly the most pleasant sensation, and I almost come on the spot when he lifts his hand to spit into his palm.
His eyes are devilish in the dark, and I feel undone beneath him.
He wraps his hand back around us, starting a slow glide as he fucks gently into his grip.
With every gentle thrust, my want ratchets up even more.
We don’t kiss as the hurricane blows around us; instead, Tucker stares down at me like he’s memorizing every single moment.
And I can’t blame him. If this is too much for him—if I’m too much—and he walks away, I think I’ll remember this moment forever.
There’s something special about Tucker that I don’t think I’ll ever find again.
His grin turns mischievous at the same moment he twists his hand just right, and I gasp beneath him. I tighten my thighs around his hips, urging him on faster, needing to feel his cum on me. Needing to see him fall apart, to memorize that look as well. I want to know everything about Tucker.
He leans down to kiss me again. He captures each of my moans with his mouth as he pushes us further.
I curl my hands around his neck, shivering at the feel of sweat gathering just at the edge of his buzzed head.
I traverse the soft skin of his back with my palms, memorizing the feel of his muscles as he moves over me, carrying my desire higher and higher until I feel like there’s nowhere else for it to go but out of me.
“Tucker,” I gasp against his mouth.
“Charlie,” Tucker moans my name just before pressing hard against me and stilling. Stars explode behind my eyes as I come right after him, my legs clenched tight around his waist to keep him as close as possible.
Tucker sighs against my mouth, then presses a fluttering of gentle kisses across my face. I keep my eyes closed and smile softly, feeling tired and deeply wanted for the first time in a very long time.
“I guess you can see my turtle tattoo now,” Tucker murmurs against my ear.
A full-body laugh hits me, and I can feel Tucker’s pleased smile against my cheek.