CHAPTER 33 Tatum Barker
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I haven’t seen Archer since we all left Mr. Bradley’s office.
I want to say goodbye. I want to say…something.
To defend why I’m marrying Ford, maybe. I don’t need to defend myself, but I want to. Only, I’m not exactly sure why I’m marrying him.
Because he asked.
Because I want the money.
But also…
Because I think I’m falling for him.
Ford is angry. All the Bradley siblings are, and they all have a right to be.
He’s angry-packing after he changes out of his suit and into jeans and a T-shirt for the plane ride back home.
Putting things into his suitcase with a little more force than necessary.
Throwing his toothbrush back into his toiletry bag. That sort of thing.
It’s definitely not the time to ask him about how we can work out a deal on keeping the mansion in the family.
“Can I do anything to help you?” I ask softly.
He sighs, and he backs up to lean against the wall.
He shakes his head. “This was just…a lot. You know? I need to get my focus back on football since we have to win this weekend or we won’t even make the wild card game.
But my head is here with my family. With my dad and his lies, how it affects all of us, this fucking legacy.
With Archer and how he’s reacting to this.
With you. Wanting to take the next step. Solidly not where it should be.”
“So how do you get your focus back?”
He shrugs. “No idea. I’ve never gone through this before.”
“Losing a loved one?” I ask, and I take a step to close the gap between us.
He twists his lips. “I mean…yeah. We weren’t close.”
“But it still hurts.” I take another step, and I reach out to touch his heart. He reaches up to rest his hand over mine, and I feel how fast his heart is racing.
“Yeah.”
“It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to feel all the things. It’s even okay if you don’t feel anything. If you’re numb and just want to get the hell out of here. Everyone processes grief differently.”
“What if I don’t feel like I’m grieving?” he whispers.
“That’s normal, too. Ford, she just died last week.
It’s going to take some getting used to, and maybe you’ll never truly grieve her.
Maybe one day down the line, you’ll be sitting at a table, and a memory will pop up that will take you down at the knees.
However you react, however you feel…it’s all normal. It’s all okay.”
He loops an arm around my waist and rests his forehead against mine. His breathing picks up the pace, and I think he’s about to kiss me when I hear a voice at the door.
“Knock knock.”
“Ugh,” Ford mutters in disgust. “Who’s there?”
“Ev,” Everleigh says.
“Ev who?” Ford asks, playing along as he straightens, and we both turn to look at her.
“Ev-eryone from the Vegas side is heading out if you want to come down to say goodbye.”
I giggle at her little joke even as my heart seems to constrict at the thought that everyone from the Vegas side is leaving. Does that include Archer?
“Our flight is soon, too,” Ford says. He zips his suitcase, and mine is already standing by the door. “Can we hitch a ride with you to the airport?”
“We’re full. Sorry.”
“Is Archer going with you?” Ford asks.
She shakes her head. “He already left.”
My heart drops down into my stomach.
Oh.
He’s already gone.
I didn’t get to say goodbye.
I didn’t get to say anything at all.
I blow out a breath, and then we head downstairs to bid Ford’s siblings goodbye—sans Archer, obviously, and also without Mr. Bradley. I wonder where he went. Maybe he’s still in his office with the lawyer.
The Vegas crew’s car arrives, and they head out. Our car is next, and we say goodbye to Liam and Ivy.
I stare at the mansion as we pull away, regret filling me that this may be the very last time I ever visit this place. It cracks my chest in two, and I’m not sure why. It was never meant to be mine, even though it feels like such a deep part of my past.
When we land in Tampa, it feels like I’m going back home. It’s a weird feeling since Chicago was home first, then Vegas.
But now, being with Ford, walking into the penthouse that overlooks the bay…this feels like home. This feels good.
This feels like my future.
It feels like we made it over the first obstacle, and now we can do anything.
I move to drag my suitcase to my bedroom, but Ford’s voice behind me stops me as I hear the door click shut behind him.
“Wait.”
I’m standing near the kitchen counter when I turn back toward him, and he abandons his suitcase by the door. My brows push together as he strides across the room toward me. “What?” I ask.
He stops mere inches from me, and he takes me in his arms. His eyes bore down into mine, his full of heat and need and something much stronger.
His lips move down to meet mine, and I reach up to cradle his jaw in my hands.
He deepens our kiss, his tongue brushing against mine, and then he pulls back suddenly.
His eyes move down from my lips, tracing the curves of my body, branding me with heat in each place they land as I wait for his next move.
I’m wearing a skirt paired with a knitted ugly Christmas sweater, and suddenly I feel hot. Like I need to take the sweater off. But I don’t dare move.
He makes the first move instead as he moves toward me and lifts me up, setting me on the counter.
He moves in between my legs, and I have just a tiny bit of height on his six-three frame when he usually towers over me by eight or so inches.
He presses a kiss to my neck, and then he sucks on the skin there.
I lean my neck back to give him more space to work with, and he trails his mouth from my neck back to mine, kissing me tenderly as I wrap my arms around him.
He trails his lips down again, this time from my neck to my collarbone and over my sweater.
Down, down, down he goes, until he’s kissing my hip over my skirt.
And then he reaches under said skirt and lifts it up.
He tugs on my panties, and I lift one side of my ass off the counter at a time so he can work on slipping my panties off.
His eyes meet mine, and his are full of need as he tosses my panties to the ground. He presses kisses along my thigh and pushes my thighs apart, exposing my pussy to him.
Then his mouth is on me.
I gasp as I feel his tongue dipping first into me before moving back toward my clit, and I lean back on my palms and close my eyes, my head tipped back as I give in to the pleasure.
He pushes a finger into me as his mouth covers my clit, and he picks up a punishing, pounding rhythm as he swirls his tongue around. I gasp, and my body clenches tightly as he drives his fingers in, his tongue working my clit as he hums against me, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me.
His mouth is pure heaven as I feel my body give way, and I rock against his face as I start to come. I moan, the sound strangled as the force of pleasure whips through me, my legs clamping around his ears as he forces his way through to ride it out with me.
When the scruff on his jaw tickles against my thigh, I open my legs again, thrusting my fingers in his hair as I pull him back a little to stop, my body too sensitive to go on.
“Holy fuck, Ford,” I murmur as he tilts his head back, so our eyes meet. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to taste that cunt,” he murmurs.
Holy hell. I practically come again just from those words.
He groans, and then he reaches into his jeans, and he pulls his cock out.
The tip is dripping, and he only pumps himself twice before he starts to come.
I watch with rapt fascination as he grunts through his release, and I don’t know that I’ve ever watched a man jerk off before, but it’s oddly the hottest thing I think I’ve ever seen.
His neck is corded, his head tipped back as he gives into the pleasure. Cum erupts from his cock, and he was obviously so turned on by putting his mouth on my pussy that it nearly made him have an orgasm in his pants.
Why is that the sexiest thing ever?
I have no clue, but I’m so turned on right now that I want his mouth back on me. I want his fingers driving back into my pussy while his tongue swirls around my clit, giving me everything he has to give.
My God. There’s no way I’m going to be able to wait nine more days for the main event.