More Than Lies (26 page)

His thumb slips lower where he dips it in, coating his flesh with my juices. Once his thumb is lubed up he positioned it back against the hole where he starts to press inside. His other fingers resume a better speed, going in and out at a constant rhythm. He’s met with a pressure of resistance, but isn’t deterred. Shawn continues easing in, slowly, gently.

His other hand releases my hair, moving down my back, over my waist until he gets past the material of my bunched up dress and connect with the flesh on my belly. His palm is warm as it moves downward. When he stops, no time is wasted; Shawn presses two fingers against my clit. He doesn’t move them, just presses firmly into me as his other fingers continue their path in and out while his thumb starts to retract.

“Oh my God.” Small shutters develop within making me tighten my grip on the edge of the counter. Shawn enters me both ways simultaneously, going in and out, over and over again. It feels amazing. It’s too much and not enough. My head falls backwards. Tingles start to cascade from my sex outward going down my body and up through my chest.

It’s not until I’m coming down from my high that I feel his teeth biting into my skin. I’m panting hard, harder than I ever have before this night. It’s like I’ve exerted all my energy. Maybe I have, but I didn’t do a thing.

He withdraws and I whimper.

When I force my head to lean forward, looking at him through the mirror, Shawn is looking at the mark between my neck and shoulder. It’s red and angry.

“Shit.” His eyes close. Remorse? Is that what I saw? “What the fuck?”

Hell no.

I twist, turning around to face him. He steps back, but I grab the front of his jeans. Without allowing him time to process what I’m doing, I quickly pull his belt bucket open. His brain must catch up because he stops my hands from unbuttoning his pants.

“Tara, no. I…shit I’m sorry. I shouldn’t…I gotta go.” He pushes my hands away from him, but I just bring them up to his chest, pressing against him to stop.

“Let me.” I want to give back all the pleasure he gave me. I want to show him this is good. We could be good if he would just give it a chance. “I want to.”

“No you don’t. I shouldn’t have taken that as far as I did. Shit.” He breathes hard. His eyes skate down to the mark he made. “I’m sorry about that.”

“I’m not and you’re not either. Don’t lie to me. I know you liked doing that to me just as much as I liked you doing it. I saw it, Shawn. I know you did, so do not lie to me and say it should not have happened.”

“Liking something has nothing to do with if it should or shouldn’t have happened. It won’t happen again. I really am sorry. Move.” His body is tense. He won’t look at me anymore.

“Why are you so against this?” I gesture between us, but he’s not looking so I clarify. “Something more between us.”

“I’m not right for you. You know this.”

“No, actually I don’t know this.” I mock his words. They’re ticking me off. “Let’s stop skirting around this. You know I want you. Why won’t you give in?”

“I just did and I shouldn’t have. This isn’t happening again. Drop it, Tara.”

“No.” Okay, that came out a little childish. I might as well have started stomping my feet.

“Don’t you get I’m protecting you from me?” He sounds exasperated.

“What?” That absurd. “Why?”

“Tara, protecting you from me is my goddamn mission in life.” With those last words, he pushes me to the side and walks out. I left standing alone in a bathroom where he gave me the best orgasm of my life only a few minutes ago. Damn…if that wasn’t the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.

In a bathroom.

Eff my freakin’ life.

“Darlin’, a fuck is just a fuck. Doesn’t matter if it’s in a warm bed or up against a cold concrete wall inside a bathroom.”

“But we haven’t—” I press two of my fingers against her lips to silence her. The same plump lips that I only remembered thirty minutes ago were wrapped around my dick last month. I’m pretty certain I fucked her, too. What a wasted night.

“Honey, I’m not in the mood tonight. You asked to share a cab ride, which I graciously allowed. That’s all this was and I have no desire for a bedmate. Ya feel me, babe?”

“Yeah, Shawn,” she bites those words out with a stunned look marring her overly made up face as she grabs the twenty dollar bill still slid between my index and middle finger before sinking back down into the back seat of the taxi cab.

I’m sure she thinks I’m a complete dick, but hey, I paid her cab fare home. I can’t be that much of a dick.

I push the door close, turn on my heel and make my drunk-ass way up the driveway to my house. I can hear the music playing from outside. It’s not loud enough that the neighbors will call the cops. Hell, I bet half of those motherfuckers are inside right at this moment. Probably a few passed out and scattered throughout my place too. Parties are starting to get back into full swing around here since Tara was drugged a few months ago.

I haven’t laid eyes on that shit fuck, but when I do, he’ll wish he’d never crossed me. That’s a day I’m looking forward to.

As my feet land on the last step, leading to the porch, a figure catches my eye demanding I look that way. The first thing I see is a tangled mess of blonde waves. It’s shielding her heart shaped face from my view because her head bowed, but I know its Tara.

It’s been six days since our heated bathroom moment on Christmas night. I’ve done a good job of avoiding her like the plague not only at work, but at home too. It’s easy when I stay out so late and by the time I do get home, she’s in bed. By the time I get up in the morning, she’s usually left for her classes. I even missed family dinner night earlier this week. I regretted that. I should have manned up and faced her, but I didn’t.

Mason and Matt both prefer to get hammered in walking distance of their beds. With parties starting to gather at my house on the weekends again I can understand why she’s still awake then a moment of concern flashes before me when remembering what happened those months ago with the guy that drugged her.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” I stop to ask, but she doesn’t move nor does she look up. It’s then that I take in the rest of her. She is wearing a tight pale purple tank top and matching shorts. The light color of the material against her tanned, flawless skin is striking not to mention too sexy for my liking. Tara wouldn’t dress like that around others. That’s the type of clothes she sleeps in.

The sight of her in next to nothing has my heart racing.

Fuck me. No, please do. Really!

Yeah, like that will ever happen. Don’t hold your breath, Braden. You’ll never let it happen. You told her as much last weekend.

It’s gotta be below thirty degree’s out here. I can see my own breath as I blow the air out of my mouth so what the fuck is she doing out here with next to nothing on? It’s New Year’s Eve, well since it’s after midnight it’s actually New Years, making it winter. She shouldn’t be outside. Not dressed like that.

“Earth to Tara.” I bark. Still nothing. “Hello?” I walk over, hunch down in front of her and place my palms along the bare portion of her outer thighs. “Shit, Tara. You feel like ice.” I flinch at the point of contact. It’s then she looks up at me. That one look is like a knife stabbing straight through my heart. A heart that only beats when I’m in close proximity to the beauty sitting in front of me, now.

Two tears fall simultaneously out of both of her eyes. My jaw clenches and my hands tighten around her upper legs. I’ll kill a motherfucker, that’s for damn sure. Her shoulders start to rise and fall as her tears stream down. Her face is red and blotchy. She’s been crying for more than a few minutes and just by the feel of her skin I know she’s been out here for a while.

Then, catching me by surprise, she leans forward and wraps her arms around my neck. It’s not that I’ve never had her in my arms. Sure, there have been more than a few drunken moments when I’ve toted her to bed, but she’s never willingly reached out for me. Not like this. This is different.

This girl is going to be the death of me. She has the ability to bring me to my knees and she doesn’t even realize it.

“What’s happened, Tara? Did someone hurt you?” I ask the last part through clenched teeth as I run my palms up to her waist. She shakes her head from side to side, but her silent shudders don’t stay silent any longer as she starts to cry harder and then louder. When she fists her hands around my t-shirt I slid my hands down and under her ass to scoop her up as I stand. Her legs wrap around my hips, connecting behind my back.

“I’m taking you inside. You’re freezing.” I turn and walk the short distance to the front door. Once I’m inside I used my boot to kick the door closed. I head to the stairs directly in front of me not paying attention to the others yelling my name from the living room off to my right side. Taking the steps quickly, I land on the second floor in seconds. I turn to the right and start to head down the short hall toward her room.

“No. Please don’t take me in there.” I halt my legs immediately. Well, fuck, where the hell am I supposed to take her? After a moment contemplating I pivot, turning around and heading in the direction of my own room at the opposite end of the hall.

Once we’re inside and the door is closed, once again using my heel of my boot, I stride off to my bed and place her down, gently on the mattress. She releases me and immediately pulls her legs up to meet her chest and then wraps her arms around herself. Tara is staring directly at my chest, but not actually looking at me. I can tell she is spaced out, but she is also shivering. I can’t fathom why she was outside in this weather. Granted, Mississippi weather is bipolar. One day it’s seventy degrees in the middle of winter and the following day will be below twenty. We are a screwed up state, but that’s just the south for you.

Tara hates cold weather too, so the fact that she was sitting out there like it was no big deal, is throwing me off. Not to mention the tears. I know something major is wrong. Tara doesn’t let people see her cry. Pretty sure her mother ingrained that into her at a young age. With a house full of people downstairs, I don’t know if someone hurt her feelings or worse, but I plan on finding out. And if I need to shove someone’s face into my fist, well then, I can do just that.

I pull my long sleeve t-shirt over my head; once I have it off I start to pull it down over her head. Getting her warm is my first priority. Once I have it perfectly over her torso, I tell her, “Give me your hands.” She complies without looking up at me. It’s almost as if she isn’t her and lost in another world, but hears everything I say. Tara writes a lot so it isn’t unusual for her to get lost inside her own head. I’ve often heard her say it’s her favorite place to be.

I place her palms flat against my abdomen. My muscles clinch at her freezing touch. How long was she outside? Her hands are like ice. I cover her hands with my own, running my palms in an up and down motion, trying to heat her from the outside.

“Tara, tell me what happened.” I keep my voice gentle. Taking a step closer, I keep one hand covering hers, but move my other palm to cup the side of her face. Placing my thumb under her chin and lifting. Her eyes meet my own and what I see is crushing. Tara has always worn her emotions plastered onto her face. And tonight, she looks heart broken. Something inside me tightens. I don’t like this. To my knowledge she isn’t dating anyone. She hasn’t dated, not really, since high school and everyone knows back then it was her mother’s doing.

Katherine Evans, or the evil queen as Tara dubbed her when we were kids, is all about image and money. If you don’t have a certain amount in your bank account, or an amount she believes you should have, then you might as well be the dirt under her shoe. Funny thing is, Katherine’s money is all Jacob’s money, her husband and Tara’s father. Katherine doesn’t have a job and has never from what I’ve seen, pulled her own weight.

When Tara shakes her head and drops her eyes, I try again. “Tara, baby, tell me what’s wrong, please.” Shit, that was a slip up. It happens every now and again when I’m on edge or when she’s drunk and I know she won’t remember. Not knowing what’s wrong or what’s causing her sadness has my body and head ticking like a bomb ready to explode.

“I can’t fix it if you won’t tell me.” I take the buzzing cell phone out of my pocket. I don’t recall anyone ever calling me this much in one night. Every time I’ve attempted to answer it, something or someone distracts me. This moment is no different; she snaps her sapphire eyes back up to my own before dropping a bomb the size of Mt Everest on me.

“My brother is dead.” My phones slides from my hand, dropping somewhere on the floor, as liquid pours out of both of her eye lids. Oh fuck. I bring her head forward, and release her hands so that I can pull her to me. Tara has been connected to Trent’s hip since the first day I met her. If it wasn’t for the age difference and looks, you’d think they were twins.

I move away from her, falling onto the mattress, letting my back land against the headboard on my bed. Once I’ve adjusted myself I pull Tara into my arms. She latches onto me, pushing her face into my neck, her hand digging into my bicep and her other hand squeezing the side of my neck that opposite of her face.