Chapter 32 #2
And maybe it has been years since we let it all go, the doubts, the fears, and really opened up. I was pushing him away, or he was pushing me away; we’ve never been on the same page emotionally.
Until now.
Tyler’s mouth trails down my neck and I slip my hands under his T-shirt, heat burning beneath my skin. It’s terrifying and thrilling all at the same time to realize we are finally together.
Tyler pulls back, his hands slipping to my bottom. “If we’re not holding back anymore, then you should know, you’re my girlfriend.”
“Oh yeah?” I chuckle and he squeezes my ass, returning his lips to the skin at the base of my neck.
“Mm-hmm. Phil knows, ask him.”
“Were you going to let me know?”
“Eventually,” he mumbles against my skin. His hands slip beneath my slim skirt. “Have I told you how much I like you in these little tight skirts you wear to work?”
“No, but I think I can feel it,” I say, and press against the bulge in his jeans.
“As much as I like seeing you in the skirt, I think I’d rather see you without it on.”
I lift Tyler’s shirt over his head, smiling at his muscled chest and running my hands over it. He attempts to unzip my skirt and pull me toward the couch at the same time.
Something goes wrong. We’re kissing, and touching, and tugging at clothing. The next thing I know, I’m falling forward, and Tyler’s falling over the end of the couch, his arms cradling me before we land. Hard. On the ground. He lets out a light grunt on impact.
“Oops,” he says with a chuckle, and looks up at the couch. “I missed.” His hands move back to where they were on my underwear, my skirt hiked up because he got impatient with the zipper.
I’m busy unfastening his pants when I sense a jerk at my hip and hear a tear. “Did you just rip my panties?”
“Shhh,” he says, and takes my mouth with his. His hand slips to the place pulsating between my legs, fingers expertly working their magic.
I moan, and start shoving down his jeans with my hands, then with my feet when I get them low enough.
With his jeans around his ankles, boxer briefs out of the way, I grab him and stroke.
Tyler moans, his strong arm lifting me up so I’m hovering above him, that finger never stopping its delicate dance. I lower myself, leaning over to gently bite his lip, because he’s hot and the sensation of the tip of him entering me is killing me in all the best ways.
His finger doesn’t stop its gentle swirl where we’re connected. He’s a multitasker, and God, do I appreciate it.
Tyler’s head tips back as my pace quickens, my breathing growing ragged. I am soooo close. It’s been too long, and I missed him. Missed this.
And then I’m there.
Exploding, gasping, moaning. My belly clenching and heaving out of control.
I’m no expert on orgasms, but I’m pretty sure this one is an eleven on a scale of one to ten.
As soon as my senses return to earth, Tyler’s tempo increases, his finger shifting from its lovely place at the core of my pleasure to my hip, where he leverages with both hands to drive into me.
My inner walls clench at the sensation of him growing bigger. He feels so good.
Tyler tenses, his grip on my hips tightening, a deep, guttural groan erupting from him.
He stares reverently into my eyes, his breathing heavy. He runs his hands up my sides, pulling me down until I’m lying flat on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat a rapid drum beneath my ear.
That’s when I realize we’re halfway on the kitchen vinyl and halfway on the living room rug. Or Tyler is.
I’m on top of my hot boyfriend. And truly happy.
It’s Tyler, and it’s me in a good place, despite all that’s happened. It’s both of us.
Together.
Tyler
“You ruined my panties,” Mira says.
I kiss her forehead, tightening my hold on her as she lies on top of me. “Sorry.”
She looks up and raises her brow.
“Okay, not really. It was fun tearing them off.”
She yawns like she’s going to fall asleep. On the living room floor—kitchen—whatever, somewhere that’s hard and not at all comfortable. Which I can’t seem to care about right now, because I’m still inside her, and there is no better place to be. “Guess we got carried away, huh?”
She rests her head on her hands folded above my chest. “Yeah.”
“I should mention, in the heat of things, and because I wasn’t expecting this, I sort of forgot…”
Her eyes fill with recognition. “I’ve been on the pill for years to regulate my period. And I have a clean bill of health, because, you know, you were my one and only.”
“Same here. About the healthy part. And as far as me being your one and only sexual experience, I’m not going to lie, it makes my chest swell with pride.
” I grin cockily, and she starts to protest, because I’m an arrogant bastard.
“And we have a lot of making up to do to get you up to speed. So we better”—I waggle my brows—“often. Like a few times a day. To catch you up.”
I think she’s going to hit me, but her gaze turns serious. “I think I’m going to like having a boyfriend. I love you, Tyler.”
Her sweet voice and the sincerity behind her words choke me up. She’s the only one who ever reached my heart.
To lighten the mood before I lose it, I counter, “No, I love you. Long before you loved me.”
Her mouth parts. “If there’s anyone with a decade of unrequited love, it’s me. I loved you before you ever knew my name.”
“How do you figure that?”
She tells me the story about the bullies in junior high school. “Huh,” I say, as if I don’t remember the day I met her. “That was you? I thought you looked familiar. You were so different in junior high. You looked like a small child next to those other girls.”
She pushes up on my chest, indignant. “Excuse me?” she says. I love it when she gets riled. I hold her so she can’t escape, our bodies still connected. I could go for round two right now. “You were only a year older, and I was small for my age. I’ve developed since then.”
I let out a growl and drag her mouth to mine, kissing her with tongue and teeth. “Tell me about it. Can you feel how much I realize that?”
“You mean, can I feel that rod you’ve got inside me that’s ready to go?” I shift her so she slides up and down, and we both sigh. “Tyler, is this normal for you to be able to…”
“Nah, I just have a lot of pent-up lust for you. Should go away in twenty, forty years.”
“What, and then you won’t want me anymore?” She picks up her rhythm. Must not be too upset.
I cradle her face, my hand slipping to her breast, because my palm has a mind of its own. “I’ll always want you, even when I’m old and can’t get it up, remember? It’s my curse to love you.”
Her hips freeze. “Curse!”
“My curse that I’ll love you forever, no matter if you push me away or not.
” I pull her to my chest, lift her hips at an angle, and drag her back down.
Her head tips back on a moan. “So don’t push me away, okay?
I may make mistakes, but you’re the only girl for me.
When you push me away it makes me cranky. For like, half a decade.”
“Okay,” she says dazedly.
And then all conversation stops because my mind goes numb with the pleasure this girl gives me, inside and out.