She reached up and took my face in her hands, pulling me down to her lips.

Jesus Christ.

The taste of her—the f**king taste of her—was everywhere. The rain and sweat on her lips, her heat on my cock…everywhere. Tate nibbled my lips as she grinded against me like she couldn’t get close enough.

I squeezed my eyes shut and attacked her mouth like it was a f**king feast.

Hell, yes.

Pulling back, she panted against my lips. “I feel you everywhere,” she taunted, and I groaned.

“Don’t talk like that, baby. I’ll be done too soon.”

Forehead to forehead, I looked down at her wet, hot body f**king me as I f**ked her, and I couldn’t even remember the sound of my father’s voice anymore.

I took her sweet breast in my mouth, sucking the nipple hard, and felt her body quake underneath mine as our h*ps came together again and again. I sank into her, and she moaned.

Faster. Harder. More. And again.

Her breathing hitched and then stopped altogether.

I looked up and saw her eyebrows pinched together, and her mouth not taking in air. Her storm-filled orbs were the sweetest blend of pleasure and pain caught in the most perfect, raw moment I’d ever seen in my life.

She was coming.

After a second or two, she let out a long, sweet moan, and closed her eyes completely. I felt her body clench and unclench, leaving me ready to let go, too.

I kissed her gently, but she didn’t return it. Her eyes were still squeezed shut, and she quivered. She was still coming.

After a few more thrusts, I exploded inside of her with shivers of pleasure rocking between my legs and spreading through my thighs and stomach.

I gasped out, my head light and my chest surging with heat.

Jesus Christ.

I sucked in breath after breath, jerking into her a couple more times.

More.

I just wanted to rip off the condom, slip on another, and go again.

Damn. I couldn’t help the smile that broke out as I kissed her and thought of the irony.

I used to keep her up late watching scary movies, and after all this time, nothing had really changed.

Her ass still wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

Chapter 32

I dropped off our wet clothes in the kitchen and came back with two gray towels from her bathroom. I wrapped one around my waist and draped the other over her as I laid back down on the chaise.

“Aren’t we going inside?” She clutched the towel to her chest, making sure the important parts were covered.

“Are you cold?” I asked mischievously as I dipped my head into her neck and rested my hand between her legs. “All part of my plan to warm you up again.”

Wrapping her fingers around my hand, she wasn’t really trying to pull me away. “Stop,” she begged pathetically.

“Are you trying to tell me no?” I teased and slipped a finger inside of her.

She gasped, and her body jerked ever so slightly. Instead of her hands trying to stop me now, they instantly reached down pushing my hand harder into her.

Her lips grazed my chest. “I always wanted you, Jared. Even at twelve, I wanted you to kiss me.”

It damn-well should’ve been me who gave her her first kiss. And her only kisses.

“Thank you for what you gave me tonight.” I groaned at how wet she was, and I felt myself swell up and get heavy.

“I wish I’d been your first. You’ve had a lot of girls, haven’t you?” Her voice held a hint of sadness, and I averted my eyes.

Yeah, I definitely didn’t want to talk about this.

“More than I should’ve.” I stuck to the easy answer.

Their names? Gone.

Their faces? Forgotten.

I loved Tate, and nothing was better than making love to someone I actually loved.

I dipped down to kiss her, but she pulled away and looked at me hard.

“I need to know, Jared,” she urged gently.

“Need to know what?” I shrugged it off, but dread crept into my chest anyway.

What was she doing?

Sitting up, she pulled the towel tighter around her body. “I’m assuming most of your past girlfriends go to our school, right? I want to know who they are.” She nodded at me, wide-eyed, like I was supposed to expect this or something.

“Tate.” I rubbed her leg. “They weren’t my girlfriends. I don’t have girlfriends.”

Her face contorted in a mixture of surprise, confusion, and a whole hell of a lot of pissed off, and I clenched my teeth and closed my eyes.

Idiot.

“What?” she yelled, and I cringed. “Then what am I?”

Yep. I’m a big bucket of stupid idiot.

But before I could do damage control, Tate sprang off the lounge, stomped across the patio and through the back door, fixing the towel around her as she went.

“Tate!” Dammit!

I chased after her and barged through the open door.

“Baby, that’s not what I meant,” I quickly shot out when I saw her standing across the kitchen with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Don’t call me, baby. If I’m not your girlfriend, I’m definitely not “‘baby.’”

I ran my hand down my face. “Girlfriend isn’t enough to describe you, Tate. That term is disposable. You’re not my girlfriend, my girl, or my woman. You’re. Just. Mine,” I bit out every syllable, so she would f**king understand. “And I’m yours,” I added, a little calmer.

She took a breath, calming down. “Jared, you have to tell me which ones.”