More Than Lies (28 page)

“You really think I’m that much of a dick, that I would kick you out of my bed the moment you woke up?”

“I don’t know? I can see you're in unchartered territory, here. This isn't exactly your normal.” His eyebrows scrunch together so I clarify what I mean. “Me in your bed. Any woman for that matter in your bed.” Realization hits and he nods.

“You’re correct,” he states on a sigh. “I don't know what to do, but I'd like to think you don’t believe I’m so much of a jerk that I'd boot you out.”

He is a jerk most days. Maybe he just doesn't see it. I mean, he has his sweet moments. Shawn isn't an uncaring person like he would like everyone to believe. The truth is, he loves hard. If you’re a part of his circle, somehow I am, maybe because of Trent placing me in his life, but Shawn takes care of those he cares about. In his own way, sure, but the point is he does.

At the thought of my brother, everything before Shawn coming home crashes down on top of me like a building set up with dynamite to explode in a crumbing manner instead of an outward disaster.

That phone call was my undoing. The moment Shane said my name; I felt the arrow pierce the skin on my chest in front of my heart. His voice was weak and I knew he had been crying. It was so apparent I could feel it within my own body. He struggled with his words, but eventually got out that there had been an accident. Tears sprung to my eyes because there would only be one reason he was calling me and that meant it involved, Trent. I couldn’t speak. I didn't want to ask the question screaming inside my head. When Shane told me my brother was gone, I stopped breathing and my cell phone fell out of my hands. I bolted out of my bedroom, then out of the house. I needed the air that had been ripped from of my lungs. It didn’t matter though, I didn’t start breathing again until the moment I realized Shawn was hunched down in front of me last night.

“How did it happen?” There is no need for him to explain his question and I'm sure it’s written all over my face that I’m thinking about my brother. I’ve often been told I wear my feelings loud and clear for everyone to see. There is both some truth and lies in that. With my family, my mother mainly, I hide my feelings well. It’s hard work, but I usually do a decent job. It’s just easier than dealing with her judgments.

Taking a much needed breath, I sling myself off of Shawn, pulling the creamy blue sheet with me, covering my naked chest as I land on my back next to Shawn. He twists; rising up onto his elbow then faces me and looks down. My right arm is pinned under the side of my body, next to his and my other is lying next to my side on top of the sheet.

“A wreck is all I know.” I feel the tears pooling into my eyes. “Shane called me late last night around eleven. Trent was on his motorcycle, got hit by a car, and died at the scene of the crash.” I can’t hold them back. The liquid spills over, runs down the sides of my face and then into my ears before I’m sure landing on the pillowcase behind my head. This is the first time I’ve let the facts fall from my lips. This makes it so much more real. I’m never going to see him again, talk to him, even if it's through a stupid text message.

His right hand cups my face and his forehead comes down to rest on top of mine. It’s comforting. “Fuck.” He breathes the words out. “I’m sorry, Tara. I should have been here. Fuck, I’m sorry. Don’t cry.” I don’t know why he’s telling me he’s sorry. It’s not his fault. Maybe it’s just what people say, I don’t know. I’ve never dealt with death before. This is new.

Before I can tell him he has nothing to be sorry for, his lips land down on mine then all thoughts of doing so leave from my brain. My lips part as if automatic to his touch. I could lose myself in his mouth alone. Last night I did just that and more. Had Shawn denied me, I don’t think I would have made it through the night. I don’t know if someone can die from a broken heart, but that’s exactly what I imagine a slow death feeling like.

It’s not a passionate kiss; nothing like the kisses from hours earlier. This kiss is an apology just like his words and I still have no idea why.

“Shawn?” I breathe his name into his mouth. His slow movements come to a halt, but his lips remain on top of my own. I can't pull back. I’m already pressed into the mattress as it is with him leaning over me. “This isn't your doing.” He lifts, pulling back an inch or two to look at me.

“I know, but my phone kept blowing up last night. I never checked it, but if I’d have to guess it was either Shane or my mom. Had I answered, I would have been home sooner.” I can see pain and regret in his eyes. It shouldn’t be there. He had no way on knowing.

He clenches his eyes together.

“Shawn, you didn’t do anything wrong. You did everything right. Thank you.” Did I really just think him for sex? Yeah I guess I did, but I don’t care. I needed everything he gave me. He told me not to regret him when I woke up. He needs to know I don’t. I could never.

His eyes open, but he isn’t looking into my eyes. From the looks of his, he’s staring at my lips. I’m not stupid. I might write romantic happily ever after’s, but I know they aren’t real. When I leave Shawn’s bed I’ll never grace it again. Knowing that though, it doesn’t do anything to wash away my hope. I’ll never stop wanting him.

“I have no regrets, Shawn.” His eyes snap to mine. “None.”

Shawn wants me to stay on at Wicked Ink after graduation, but I already know I can’t. I can’t continue living in a fairy tale world that will never come true. I’ve lived here for nearly four years. It’s been the hardest four years of my life. Being around Shawn more now than ever back home. It’s too hard. Too much and I can’t keep it up.

His lips crash down onto mine, urgently this time and again my lips part automatically, accepting him. The moment his tongue touches mine, I feel him start to expand from underneath the sheet. His hardening cock is pressed against the back of my hand and hipbone. The same spot he inked the most beautiful work of art onto my body a few months ago.

I’ve never felt this kind of frenzied need prior to him. I’ve always enjoyed sex. Always, except the night I lost my virginity. That was an inexperienced mess not to mention a waste of my time. But right now, I need him inside me again, especially if this will for sure be the last time. I want to savor him, every part of him. My mind may have accepted my reality, but my heart isn’t ready just yet.

Flipping my hand so that my palm encases his shift, I wiggle and Shawn lifts a small amount, allowing me to move my hand up and down his length in its entirety. I do so with slow strokes.

“Fuck, Tara. Shit that feels…fuck.” His right arm disappears underneath the covers and then his palm starts running down my bare torso until he meets the top of my legs. He doesn’t stop; instead his hand wraps around one of my thighs and the he parts my legs. My body is open for him to explore once again. I’d say he explored it quite well last night.

I’ve had multiple sex sessions back to back with Jared a few times, but never four times with five orgasms. Who the hell knew that was possible. Not this girl. Shawn’s mouth is as talented as the cock I’m holding in my hands right now.

“Tara, baby.” I could get used to him calling me that. I know not to. Shawn’s palm moves back to my center where he doesn’t waste any time running his middle finger runs up the length of my folds and then back down where it disappears inside me.

“Ahh,” I moan on contact with his swift entry. “More.”

“Tar…oh shit don’t fucking stop, baby.” I increase my pace, tightening my grip a little. “We used all the condoms last night.”

Shawn adds another finger then starts a pumping motion, exiting and entering me over and over again. It feels good. His lips find mine then I open my eyes to peer into his dark ones. I’ve never shared eye contact with someone before tonight during an intimate moment. It’s different; it’s so much more that it scares me.

Before I can make another plea for more, his thumb brushes against my clit. I want to scream, but I don’t. Instead I clamp my teeth together. His thumb begins to circle as his middle and ring finger pump into me, faster and harder. I feel the beginnings of my free fall starting. I increase my speed on Shawn’s cock. I want him ready to cum when I do.

Between the kissing, our tongues molding together, my legs spread and accepting his assault, and intense strain on my hand that’s pumping him to his own orgasm, I don’t realize the door to Shawn bedroom is opening until Mason’s voice halts us both, ruining what I was seconds away from receiving.

“Hey man, have you—” Mason stops. “Holy, fuck.” Shawn’s head and mine turn to see Mason and Shane standing in the doorway. Mason is shocked. Shane looks distraught and perhaps even angry. He’s the first to leave, turning and disappearing. Mason just stares like he doesn’t know what to do.

“Get the fuck out.” Shawn yells as he rips his fingers out of me.

“Yeah, sorry.” Mason turns, closing the door and I look up toward the ceiling.

“Ah, fuck.” He whispers and then rolls off me, away from me. I don’t like it, but there’s zilch I can do or say. Realization has probably dawned on him. He told me last night not to regret him and I don’t, but I don’t think I can say the same about him.

I sit up, looking to the floor for my clothes and not spotting anything but my panties and Shawn’s t-shirt. I get up and pull my underwear on and pull his big shirt over my body.

“Tara,” he calls out. I don’t look at him. I’m scanning the floor for my clothes, but I still can’t locate them.

“I need a shower. I’m—” Shawn cuts me off.

“Tara,” he says my name again. I’m not doing this. I know what it was and I know what it wasn’t. There is no need to hash anything else out.

“Don’t, Shawn. Let’s leave it here.” And in my head where I’ll replay every minute of the last however many hours I’ve been in his bed later. I need out of this room. Shawn doesn’t say another word and I give up looking for my clothes. I leave, heading to my room so I can shower and prepare for today. I don’t want to face it.

My brother is gone and I’ll never get another second with him again.

Once I’m dressed and my wet hair is pulled back into a ponytail holder I exit my bedroom and head downstairs. The steaming shower did nothing to settle the pressure sitting inside my chest. It’s back at full force just as it was last night before Shawn got home.

I hear the racket before my feet land at the bottom.

“Would someone tell me what the fuck is going on?” Mason demands. His voice has none of his normal playful tone. I enter the kitchen and all three; Shawn, Mason, and Shane turn to face me. I look directly at Mason.

“Trent…he’s gone. He’s dead.” The last word comes out choked. It’s the second time I’ve verbalized that word and it’s as gut wrenchingly painful as the first. I don’t want it to be my reality, but it is. My brother’s gone. Why?

“What?” Mason’s question tares me away from my thoughts. His eyes bug. Turning toward Shane, he says one word, asking about his sister. “Kylie?”

“At your parents.” His response is a mere whisper.

“Oh, fuck.” He turns back to face me. “Taralynn…I—” he can’t make a full sentence. He’s in shock and I’m sure worried about his sister. Mason may be the youngest of the three Morgan siblings, but he’s as protective of his sisters as Trent was of me.

“Go, Mase. Go see about Kylie. She needs you.” My voice comes out calm, but I feel anything but that on the inside. He walks forward, grabs the back of my head gently and pulls my forehead to his lips. Seconds later, he’s out the door and I’m left in the kitchen with Shawn and his brother

I don’t look in Shawn’s direction. I can’t. Thoughts of last night and this morning need to be forgotten as quickly as possible.

Yeah, like there is a chance in hell of that happening, but I can’t think about it or even dwell on that. Instead, I force my legs to move forward, walking up to Shane. Without words, he wraps me into his arms, fusing me to his chest. I feel the gush of air as it leaves his lungs. It’s as if he’s been holding everything in until this point. Maybe he has. I had Shawn last night. Who did Shane have?

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” I know he has nothing to feel sorry about the same way I’m sure he knows it, too, but this is what people do in situations like this. I don’t understand it, probably never will.

“Here,” Shawn says. I pull away from Shane to turn toward Shawn. He’s holding two coffee mugs in front of us. I nod a thank you then take the one intended for me, immediately taking a long gulp into my mouth before swallowing it down. It’s made perfect, just the way I normally love it, but the warm sweet flavor that usually follows isn’t there. Okay, it’s there; I know it is, but I can’t taste it.

I don’t feel numb. I almost wish I did because the pressure inside is almost too much to bear. It’s taking everything in me not to collapse and cry out, but what use would that do? It won’t bring him back. I’d do anything to get Trent back, but that won’t happen. That isn’t reality. Screw reality.

After I’m done, I sit the coffee mug on the island counter top.

“So, what—” Shawn’s cut off when Shane interrupts him.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone, last night?” His ton is accusing and possibly laced with hurt, but Shane’s always turned pain into anger. I don’t know why, but he does. Trent once told me, a girl in high school cut him to the core. A girl he loved and when they ended, Shane was never the same. I don’t remember a lot from then. I was in sixth or seventh grade and I’m sure wrapped up in Shawn the same way I still am today.