Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tate’s heart froze for the briefest moment when Lys didn’t reply.
“No regrets.” Her words were a reassurance he didn't know he needed.
“Good.” He intertwined his fingers with hers, and tugged her out of the room. He knew what his problem was. He’d been over-thinking everything since last night. He needed to step back, get an objective perspective, and just let instinct drive. “Let’s go celebrate.”
“What did you have in mind?” Lys paused by the front door long enough to slip on a pair of sandals, and grab her purse.
The one thing they always did. Something nagged at the back of his mind, asking how they had an ‘always’ anything. He shoved it aside. It’s just the way things were between them. It didn’t mean anything. “We grab a pizza and head up to the lake.”
“Sounds perfect.” Her grin latched onto something inside him, and send a wash of need over his skin.
Apparently he hadn’t reached that objective point yet. He’d get there, though.
“You drive.” She tossed him her keys.
He snagged them without missing a beat. The Bentley was nice for freeway and city driving, but Lys’s ancient Suburban would handle the off-road lake paths a lot better, and he was more familiar with the route than she was.
An hour later, they’d found a quiet spot of trees, and a clearing with no one else around, and backed the SUV up several feet back from the lake.
They finished the pizza and discarded the box half an hour after that, and then sat next to each other on the tailgate.
Lys swung her legs in a lazy arc, and Tate leaned back, palms resting on the upholstery behind him.
Once upon a time, Lake Lanier had been one of his least favorite places.
His parents had a summer home that was really more of an excuse to show off than a reason to vacation.
They’d sold it when the area got too crowded.
Spending time with Lys up there, though, helped him discover an appreciation for the beauty again. Especially when they could find an isolated spot of land and just unwind.
“Remember that night we came up here to study for my finals?” Her question blended into the calm of the night.
“Which time?”
She leaned into him. “Every time. I doubt I would have made it through undergrad without your help.”
“I was zero help for vet school, so I guess that evens everything out. What about the time you ran away?”
“Oh, God.” She scrubbed her face, laughter spilling through her fingers. “I don’t even remember why I did that, but I know it was childish. I’m still grateful you never told them you found me up here.”
“Right. Because I was going to tell J—anyone you hitchhiked to the lake.” Tate wasn’t sure why he stalled on Jared’s name. Something told him he didn’t want to ruin the mood that way.
She tucked one leg under the other knee, and turned to face him. “Or three years ago when I closed on the loan for the shelter.”
Her eyes sparkled with amusement, holding his gaze captive. If he leaned in a few inches, he could lose himself in the soft perfume of her shampoo. His senses prickled at the idea, and he shelved the desire. “You mean the night you drank way too much champagne and almost puked in my car?”
“I don’t remember it that way.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers itched with the desire to cover her hand. What was wrong with him tonight?
“You were wasted.” He struggled to keep the conversation light, friendly, and as completely unsexy as possible. “I’m surprised you remember anything.”
“I remember enough.” She twisted her mouth in mock-irritation. “Was that really the last time we were up here?”
He had a feeling she knew the answer as distinctly as he did. “It was.”
“Why did we stop?”
“Coming to the lake?” He was stalling. He knew exactly what she meant.
“Our schedules got busy. Life got in the way.” The excuse slid out without thought.
It was the same one he fed himself every time he wondered why they didn’t hang out more.
With the question between them now, it bounced in his head.
He studied her closer. The flush of laughter on her cheeks. The smile tugged forward by the memories. Had they really spent so much time together? Up here. At home. He sifted through stacks of memories, and she was a part of so many of them.
She poked him in the arm. “What are you staring at?”
He shook away his rambling thoughts. “Just you.”
Fuck it all. He was lingering too much on this one thing.
Putting too much thought into a simple, physical response.
She’d been open to no strings last night, would she go for it again?
Once the physical wasn’t taboo anymore, the tension between them would vanish, and they could go back to being casual and friendly, without the awkwardness.
* * *
Alyssia tried not to notice the sudden silence. Maybe she shouldn’t have brought up the celebration night. She remembered it far more vividly than she’d ever let on. She’d actually only had a couple of glasses of champagne, but had definitely enjoyed the excuse to fall asleep on Tate.
“But you know.” His voice was suddenly too loud in the still. It sounded too cheerful, but strained at the same time. “That’s life, right? We’ll drift our separate ways, you’ll meet a great guy to bring up here, and he’ll be one hell of a lucky dude if you give him a chance.”
But she’d already met a great guy. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep the comment from escaping. “I guess.”
He hopped to the ground, and disappointment spread through her at the sudden distance between them, even though he’d only stepped a few feet away. Was the moment ruined? Was he waiting for her to say something?
“However.” The strain vanished from his voice. He stepped closer, and tugged her foot so both of her legs hung over the tailgate again. “If you want a distraction until then…”
Anticipation seared her veins and her pulse kicked into overdrive. She tried to keep the teasing in her reply. “I’m not sure I know what you’re suggesting.”
“I’m just thinking, waiting for Mr. Right has got to get lonely sometimes.” He nudged her legs apart with his knee, and pushed between her thighs. Friction built, teasing her thoughts. “And I’m guessing a battery operated boyfriend doesn’t always do the trick.”
Her face warmed. “I don’t—” His raised brows made her pause, mid-protest. “No, it doesn’t.”
He glided his fingers over the backs of her hands, up her arms, and along her jaw. “I’m offering something a little more… organic, from someone you already like and trust.”
Like. Such a tame word. Desire glided under her skin, focusing in her belly, then spread outward again.
Could she really have casual sex? Tate didn’t do long term, but he was being up front about it.
She could fool around, indulge her fantasies, and then they could both step back once their needs had been met.
“It sounds like a perfect arrangement.” She almost stammered on the words. Where had that come from?
He cradled her face in his hands, searching her eyes. “Couldn’t agree more.” When he kissed her, mouth pressed to hers, palms holding her head in place, excitement squeezed her chest. She could keep things casual if it meant more of this. More of this kind of attention from Tate. Definitely.
He trailed his lips along her cheek, and down her jaw.
Traipsed a line of kisses over her clavicle and to her sternum.
Each new, feather-light touch sent a pleasant shudder through her.
She whimpered and tilted her head back as he moved lower.
His touch through fabric teased her. She shifted her weight to bring herself closer, and he lifted his head to close his mouth over hers again.
One hand found its way under her shirt, and she gasped at the barely-there sensation of his palm on her bare skin.
She rested one hand at the base of his neck.
The short, blond hairs tickled her fingertips as she held his head captive.
Sank into the growing hunger. She dug her fingers into his chest, memorizing each new line of definition as she grasped for something to cling to.
The desperation that had been there last night was gone, replaced with something steadier.
More sensual. But need still bubbled inside her.
She wanted to burn every touch into her memory to savor later.
He brushed the bottom of her breast with his thumb, and a gasp tore from her throat.
He dragged a path across her nipple, then back again, teasing through fabric. Dampness grew between her legs.
He kissed along the edge of her ear. “You make delicious noises when you’re turned on.” His voice was so quiet she felt it as much as heard it. “What kind of sounds do you make if I do this?” He dragged the cup of her bra out of the way, scraping lace and elastic over the tender skin.
She sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth. “That kind apparently.” It was a struggle to find words.
“What if I do this?” He lowered his head, and flicked his tongue over the jutting pink nub. Slowly at first, but then building up speed.
She squirmed against him with a whimper. An ache called from between her thighs.
“That’s good too.” He blew lightly on the damp skin.
Her head felt light as the blood rushed from it. Squeaks and gasps pushed from her throat.
“I’ve got a better place for this.” He covered her hand with his.
She managed a laugh. “Where’s that?”
Palm against the back of her hand, he guided them both lower. Her fingers brushed a bulge, hard and long, outlined by denim, and he groaned. “Right there.”
A new spark of desire raced through her, and she traced his erection through his jeans. Each time she brushed it from a new angle, or gripped his shaft, or caressed the head, he responded. Kissing her nipple, sucking, nipping the flesh with his teeth.
She wasn’t sure how long they sat there, clothes half-out of the way, groping and kissing while she sat on the tailgate of her Suburban, him standing between her legs.
But this wasn’t making out with a boy at the lake.
She could have more. She drew his mouth back to hers, and kissed him hard, tongues dancing around each other.
When she broke away, she met his gaze. “We should go back to my place. Or yours. Wherever.”
His hungry gaze slid over her face. “What’s wrong with here?”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. “We’re outside.” Except, did she actually mind?
He nipped at her neck with his teeth, and then her shoulder. “And no one’s around. We have the area to ourselves. It’s dark.” He looked her in the eye again. “And tell me the idea of getting caught isn’t at least a little exciting.”
Her anticipation spiked. “It’s more than just a little exciting.”
“Good.” He dragged a thumb across her nipple again. “Because I’ve tried. I really have. To put yesterday out of my mind.” He covered her hand again, and squeezed. She followed his lead and tightened her grip on his bulge, stroking as he pressed against her hand.
He lifted her chin, holding her head in place, and locked her gaze on hers.
“My best intentions have failed.” His voice had dropped an octave, and the husky tone floated over her skin.
His accent was back. The drawl he tried so hard to hide.
The one that made her senses flare to life.
“I can’t stop thinking about your lips wrapped around my cock.
How gorgeous you looked. How incredible it felt.
But I’m dying to bury myself inside you.
Knowing how tight you were, how wet you got?
I want to feel your pussy squeeze around me. ”
He dipped his head in again, the heat from his breath hot against her cheek when he whispered, “I have condoms tonight. God, I need to fuck you, Lys.”
Part of her mind snagged on the words. He’d planned to spend this evening with her. The entire night, right? But he’d stopped for protection? A smirk slid onto her face. She fumbled for the button on his jeans, and then slid down the zipper. “I like the sound of that,” she said.