Chapter 47 – Kat
FORTY-SEVEN
KAT
Tanner gently lowers me onto my plush, queen-sized bed with practiced ease. His expression is a mix of determination and tenderness, a rare combination for him. Usually, he exudes confidence in all things sexual, and I must admit, it’s well-deserved. He knows how to make me feel good in ways that no one else ever has or could. In this moment, though, I can tell he wants to make sure I feel safe and loved above all else.
His eyes read only one thing: pure, unadulterated love—and God if I’m not a ball of putty at his disposal. I’ve spent the better part of the last six months working to break the habit of allowing Elijah—or any man—to make me feel less-than. I thought that would mean not allowing myself to be vulnerable anymore.
But I was wrong. So, so, so wrong.
It’s almost as if Tanner has found a way to bypass all of my barriers, no matter how hard I attempt to keep him at a distance. He effortlessly breaks through the walls I put up and I’m tired of fighting it. I know I should be more freaked out about his big reveal.
Even if I can’t remember anything about the future beyond the night we went back, I know with absolute confidence that it happened exactly the way it was supposed to.
My mind is consumed with thoughts of Tanner and the revelations about my father brought to light by Patrick yesterday. My conflicted emotions swirl within me like a storm, each one vying for dominance over the others. On one hand, I know that my dad is sick and it’s only natural for me to feel some level of concern. But on the other hand, there’s a sense of detachment and even resentment toward him that I can’t shake off.
I wonder if this makes me a terrible person. Shouldn’t I be showing more compassion for someone who is battling cancer? Yet, deep down, I can’t help but feel that Patrick Marritt Sr. doesn’t deserve my tears or sympathy.
Despite this knowledge, I can’t ignore the nagging curiosity in my chest—the intense desire to meet the man who fathered me, even if it’s just out of morbid curiosity.
But now is not the time to dwell on everything my father isn’t.
Tanner leans over me, his brows furrowed and lips pressed tightly together. His body feels tense and rigid against mine, the opposite response one would hope for when the man they love hovers over them after declaring their feelings. He seems stressed, not elated.
“What?” I ask.
“Something is going on in that pretty head of yours. What’s on your mind? ”
His unnerving ability to effortlessly navigate and control my emotions is steadily becoming more and more terrifying. It’s as if he possesses a unique level of insight and understanding that no one else in this world has. It’s both mesmerizing and unsettling in equal measures.
“Noth—” I clear my throat, failing to find confidence. “Nothing, just a long day.”
A sigh falls past his lips as he settles next to me on the bed with his head propped on his arm. “What made it such a long day?”
I don’t know. Could it be the fact that I met my brother for the first time yesterday only to find out that my father, who’s never cared to know me, has cancer? Is it the bridezilla who made the wedding I was photographing earlier an absolute nightmare? Or could it be that I almost tanked whatever this is between Tanner and I without a second thought because I was overwhelmed and didn’t know what else to do? It really could be anything, so I settle for the simplest response.
“Nothing, I’m just tired.” I reach out to pull him to me, to press my lips to his in hopes of steering this scenario back toward where it needs to go, but he doesn’t allow me to do so.
“Kat,” he growls, his hand gripping my hip tightly. It’s a tone that always makes me weak in the knees, but this time I sense something different. His voice softens as he reaches up and caresses my cheek with his thumb, his piercing eyes searching mine for answers. “What’s wrong, Kat? Talk to me.” My heart races as his expression transforms from intense to loving in a matter of seconds. It’s so uniquely Tanner, confusing and comforting me at once.
Ignoring my every instinct, I do exactly as he asks. I tell him everything. I tell him about how the bride wanted her maid of honor removed from the premises. I tell him how Patrick confided in me about our father’s cancer diagnosis, sending my mind into chaos.
Tanner’s voice is calm and curious, void of any judgment as he poses the question: “Do you think you’re going to meet him?”
“Would it make me horrible if I didn’t want to?” The dichotomy of emotions that exists within me at the prospect of seeing my dad threatens to overwhelm me.
“No, it wouldn’t make you a horrible person.” Tanner positions his pointer finger underneath my chin, nudging it upward so my eyes meet his. “It makes you human. He’s done nothing to deserve your kindness, and if it were purely about him, I wouldn’t even think to encourage you to do it. But I think meeting him might give you some closure you might not have thought about.”
I know Tanner is right, but I can’t help the cowardice that washes over me at the thought of meeting the man who sired me.
I smile up at Tanner, causing his eyes to soften. “I’ll think about it.”
All he does is nod before his lips land on mind. His kiss is soft and tentative and everything I need right now. It’s not outright sexual, but it leaves me rubbing my thighs together just the same. More than anything, I just want the comfort that being touched by Tanner provides. He’s about the only person in existence who can take me so fully out of my own head, and I need that right now.
He pulls away from the kiss for a split second as his eyes rake over my expression, searching for any objection to him continuing. He won’t find apprehension on my face, though, only complete and utter encouragement.
I gently tug at the hairs at the nape of his neck and, with his hand gently cupping the side of my jaw, he slants his lips over mine once more with a relieved sigh. I taste peppermint on his lips as he deepens the kiss, his tongue teasing mine and igniting a fire in my belly. My spine arches toward him, craving more of his intoxicating touch.
Tanner’s touch is featherlight as he traces the buttons of my oversized button-down, his hands moving with a tenderness I have never experienced before. Each button comes undone with agonizing slowness, and I can’t tear my eyes away from the sight of this man who has so completely consumed me. He moves to hover over me, his breath warm on my skin as he reveals more and more of my body with each unfastened button. It is intoxicating and mind-boggling all at once.
With each tug of his fingers, the buttons give way and the panels fall open like a flower blooming. My heart races as his eyes focus on the delicate black lace that covers my breasts. The anticipation builds as he slowly reaches out to touch me, gently tracing the outline of the bralette with his fingertips before ghosting his pointer finger languidly over my hardened nipple, obvious through the sheer lace fabric.
As his fingers brush against my skin, my breath catches in my throat. A wave of heat washes over me, and I can feel the dampness between my legs. It’s impossible to ignore and all I can think about is how incredible it will feel when he reaches lower.
Leaning downward, Tanner flicks his tongue over the thin scrap of fabric separating him from my breast before latching his mouth over the hardened peak. He bites down gently, causing the breath that was previously lodged in my throat to break past my lips with an intoxicated moan.
“God, I missed that sound,” Tanner mumbles as he presses a kiss to the scalloped edge of my bralette.
A laugh crawls up my throat. “It’s only been a week.”
He nods. “Yeah, but I know you. I could tell you were overanalyzing it and I was worried.”
“Don’t be,” I whisper in an attempt to reassure him. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
This appears to appease him as he peels back the dainty fabric to expose my wet, pebbled nipple to the crisp air before his lips wrap around it, the warmth of his mouth causing my head to fall back against the pillow.
Patience in the bedroom is something that Tanner and I have yet to find a middle ground on. While he loves to draw everything out, to savor every last moment, all I can think about is how badly I want him buried inside me. We can savor it later.
“Tanner,” I whimper as he presses featherlight kisses from my chest to the waistband of my black leggings.
“Hm?” he responds, but doesn’t stop his advance and begins prying the thin fabric away from my skin achingly slowly.
“Tanner. Please.”
“Please what?” The laughter he’s holding back is almost enough to make me combust.
“You know what,” I grit out through my teeth.
He pauses as he drops my leggings and panties onto the floor by the bed. His eyes meet mine as he cups himself through his strained jeans. It would be an erotic sight if I didn’t know that he is more than likely trying to keep himself in check.
I don’t want him to keep himself in check, though—I want him to let go. Every desire to joke with my best friend about the situation melts away when his eyes meet mine again; the most beautiful green I’ve ever seen.
“Please, make love to me.”
The weight of my words lingers, the stark difference between what we’ve been and what we are now clear to both of us for what might be the first time. However, despite everything that’s happened—despite the breadcrumbs I accepted from Elijah for so long, all the pain he caused—despite the instinct to back away, I stand firmly. Even though my brain won’t stop screaming “ Danger! ” I don’t pry my gaze away from his.
Slowly, Tanner reaches for the button on his jeans and pops it open, then swiftly pulls down his pants and boxers, revealing his muscular thighs. His cock is hard and I can’t help the warm wetness that pools between my thighs at the thought of him inside me.
He crawls back onto the bed, his body hovering over mine. I spread my legs eagerly, hoping he’ll finally satisfy the ache between them. But instead of plunging inside me, he teases me with his cock, brushing it against my wetness as I squirm and beg for more. He leans in closer, pressing his chest to mine and locking eyes with me, a small smile forming on his lips. I can feel every inch of him against me, but he doesn’t give in to my desperate pleas just yet, teasingly grazing my slick entrance. I beg for more, but he remains calm and in control, taking his time to savor every moment. His eyes lock on mine as he reaches up to brush away the hair plastered to my forehead .
“Kat?” he whispers against my lips.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
It’s vulnerable and emotional and, for the first time ever, I’m not terrified of what’s to come. Actually, I’m excited for it.
“I love you too,” I whisper back, and he takes this moment to push past my entrance devastatingly slowly. I gasp as he enters me with excruciating leisure. My body responds eagerly, adjusting to his girth and clenching tightly around him. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me as he moves inside me, igniting every nerve ending in my body.
When he’s seated fully inside, he pauses for a moment, his body still and steady. I feel every inch of him pressed against me, every muscle tensed with anticipation. But it’s not just the physical sensations that hold him back—when our eyes meet, I can see the intensity in his gaze. He’s relishing this moment, allowing himself to fully indulge in the pleasure and connection between us. And so I do the same, letting go of any inhibitions and simply reveling in the sensation of being fully united with him.
Time seems to stand still as we both bask in the raw intimacy of our bodies intertwined.
Intimacy in a way that I’ve never experienced before; true intimacy with the man I love…and, for the first time in my life, the man who loves me back.