Chapter 24 Carter #2
“Make that three,” I chime in, tucking under Tyson’s arm to freak the waitress out even more, giving her something to talk about with her scaredy cat friends.
“Be right up,” she whispers, scurrying off faster than she came, and I roll my eyes, returning my attention back to the big softie beside me.
“Your touch could bring me back to reality, but seeing Massi, knowing he’s alright, that does it.
I need to be snapped out of the trance where I’m afraid that I’m watching someone die.
The sight of wounds and blood trigger the state I get into, so sometimes, breaking out of it is hard,” he says, turning until we’re facing each other completely, his hand resting on my cheek.
“Okay, I’ll do everything I can to help you, but hopefully, that never happens again.” I take his hand in mine, kissing the top of his knuckles as a small gesture of intimacy for opening up.
“In this life, we’re not guaranteed an extra second, let alone a day, baby girl. I’m sorry we’ve brought you into something so … grim,” he whispers, dropping his head a little, but I slip my fingers under his chin, forcing him to maintain eye contact.
“You didn’t rope me into anything. I’m exactly where I want to be, and I don’t scare easily, you know that.” I stay completely still, allowing him to judge my words based on my body language, and finally, he nods, accepting what I’ve said at face value.
An overwhelming urge takes over, something I never thought would happen, but all I want is to confess – to say that I understand, and have been born into the same life that he has – but I don’t.
I should use this moment of vulnerability to tell him every-fucking-thing, and run away with them into the sunset, finding a new life for just the three of us, but I don’t.
I deserve to lift this weight off my shoulders – one that I placed – and fill the final space in my heart with the outpouring of love that’d come alongside a clear conscience, but I don’t.
Instead, I sit face to face with one of the men I’m falling head over heels for, continuing to lie to him, and pretending that I’m okay with it.
“You are beyond my wildest dreams, baby girl.” He gently kisses my lips, holding me close as the vibrator turns on again, it jolting me upright as the sensation instantly sweeps me into a frenzied state.
Tears well in my eyes as I look up at Tyson, almost as if I’m begging for mercy, but knowing deep down he’d never allow me to give in that easily.
I watch as he uses one finger to push a small button higher up on the screen, and immediately feel the intensity rise, the toy vibrating against my thighs as a soft moan unwillingly escapes my lips.
“They’ll only know if you let them.” He rubs my belly, pressing me against the booth as the waves cascade over me, knowing my body well enough to push the exact button that causes my detonation.
I’m struggling to keep a straight face, but the orgasm sweeps me into a rip current, tossing me around like a beach ball lost at sea, and Tyson pulls my head into his chest just as the tears fall down my cheeks, a visible reaction to the powerful surge rolling through my body at an unrelenting pace.
“Tyson, turn it off. Please, please, please,” I beg, my words getting caught in my throat while the aftershocks nearly paralyze my body, and I realize how terribly I failed at being incognito.
“You did so good, baby girl,” he whispers into my hair, but I shake my head, unable to stop the emotional reaction.
“I completely fell apart,” I whine, finally able to take a deep breath once he turns the settings down, leaving me with a barely-there buzzing between my legs.
“That’s exactly what I wanted.” He smirks, like he’s freakin’ proud of himself, but when I catch that sparkle in his eye, all I want is to keep doing good for him, to please him beyond what he expects of me.
“Take me home? I couldn’t possibly eat in these conditions.” I motion toward my legs, my panties absolutely wrecked from the orgasms I’ve succumbed to over the last few hours.
I’ve begged for less, but Tyson immediately concedes, motioning for the waitress to wrap our food up before it even hits the table, and I swear, I’ve never seen a human look more relieved.
Within minutes, our sandwiches are tucked in to-go boxes, the check delivered at the same time, and Tyson doesn’t even look at it, dropping a crisp blue Benjamin on the table as he escorts me out of the restaurant like he just won the lottery.
The way he acts unfazed by everyone else’s discomfort is admirable, one of the only attitudes that I don’t possess, as I always find ways to critique the way I present myself to others and how they judge me.
It’s my fatal flaw, looking for approval from every person I meet, but tonight made me open my eyes, realizing that what one waitress thinks won’t make or break me, destroy my relationship, or have any fucking bearing on the way I choose to live my life.
Sometimes I believe that Tyson has hard-wired straight into my brain, on a mission to eliminate the bad thoughts that live there and replace them with the positivity he sees within me, something I can honestly say nobody has ever tapped into.
I’m playing a dangerous fucking game, tethering the line between who I was when I arrived at Emory, and the person I’ve become in only a short few months, but I’ve never felt more like myself, and I owe it all to the forbidden boys who morphed from my targets, to the people I’d protect with my life.