Until You (Fall Away Series) (20 page)

I launched the bottle across the room where it slammed against the wall before spilling to the floor.

Goddammit!

Leaving the room and charging down the stairs, I went fucking crazy. I kicked over chairs, smashed pictures, and went to bat with some pottery and crystal. I shattered everything, swinging the fire poker at everything and anything. Every picture that my mother had of me smiling and every fucking figurine that gave the impression that we were a happy household was destroyed. In two hours, the house was ripped apart from top to bottom as I got lost and exhausted.

When all was done, the house was a disaster, and I was covered in sweat.

But I was as high as a kite. Nobody could hurt me if I could hurt them.

Blissfully numb and calm, I parked myself outside on the back porch with another bottle of Jack from my supply and let the rain cool me down. I didn’t know how long I was out there, but I was finally breathing and that felt good. There’s something to be said for acting like a five-year-old and breaking some shit. Control had finally settled over me again, and I just sat there and drank, soaking up the quiet in my head.

“Jared?”

I twisted my head and immediately lost my breath.
Tate? Aw, Jesus Christ. No, no, no…

She was here? And in fucking shorts and a tank top?

I turned back around, hoping she’d go away. I didn’t want to lose my shit with her. Or do anything stupid. I’d finally calmed down, but my head was nowhere near straight enough to deal with her right now.

“Jared, the dog was barking outside. I rang the doorbell. Didn’t you hear it?”

Damn, she was so close. I could feel the pull. I wanted to get closer. To sink into her arms until I couldn’t even remember yesterday.

She walked around in front of me, into the rain, and my fingers tingled. They wanted her.

I glanced up, only for a moment, unable to resist the pull.

Jesus Fucking Christ.
She was drenched. And I looked down again, knowing what I would do if I kept looking. Her wet shirt stuck to her body, but she tried to hide it by crossing her arms. Her legs glistened with the water dripping down, and her shorts clung to her toned, wet thighs.

“Jared? Would you answer me?” she yelled. “The house is trashed.”

I tried looking at her again. Why? Who the fuck knows? Every time I saw her, I wanted to bury my heart and body inside of her.

“The dog ran away,” I choked out.
What the hell?

“So you threw a temper tantrum? Does your mom know you did that to the house?”

And that’s when the wall went back up. My mother. Tate looking at me like I couldn’t control myself. Like I was weak.

I didn’t want to hurt her anymore, but I wasn’t letting her in, either.

“What do you care? I’m nothing, right? A loser? My parents hate me. Weren’t those your words?”
Yes, this was easier. Just push back.

She closed her eyes, looking embarrassed. “Jared, I should never have said those things. No matter what you’ve—”

“Don’t apologize,” I interrupted, swaying as I stood up to hover over her. “Groveling makes you look pathetic.”

She yelled something at me, but I was too lightheaded and aggravated to register what she was saying as I walked back into the house.

She followed me inside, and I tuned her out as I dried off the dog. But then she took the control out of my hands again when she rushed to empty my bottle down the drain.

What?

“Son of a bitch!” I ran up to her and tried prying the Jack out of her hands. “This is none of your business. Just leave.” I didn’t want her here to see me like this. She shouldn’t care about me. I’d done nothing to earn it. And I didn’t need it or her!

I jerked the bottle, and her body came flush with mine.

She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. And angry, she was even hotter. A fire was in her eyes, and her full bottom lip glistened from the rain. I didn’t want to stop this for anything. I wanted to lose all of my energy on her.

In more ways than one.

I saw her raise her hand, and my head jerked to the side with the sting of her hand, and I stood there for a moment, stunned.

She hit me!

I dropped the bottle. I didn’t give a damn about it anyway, and I hauled her up onto the counter. I didn’t know what I was doing, but it was out of my control. And for once, I had no problem with that.

She met my eyes, not looking away for a second, as her body squirmed against mine. I shouldn’t be holding her like this. I shouldn’t be crossing this line with her. But I had Tate in my arms for the first time in over three years, and I wasn’t letting go. The more I looked at her, and the more she let me touch her, I was completely hers.

And I hated and loved that at the same time.

“You fucked me up today.”

“Good,” she challenged, and my hold on her tightened.

I jerked her into me again. “You wanted to hurt me? Did you get off on it? It felt good, didn’t it?”

“No, I didn’t get off on it,” she answered way too calmly. “I feel nothing. You
are nothing to me.”

No
. “Don’t say that.” I hadn’t pushed her away completely. I still had her, didn’t I?

I could smell her sweet breath as she leaned in, her lips moist with heat and sex. “Nothing,” she repeated, taunting me, and I was instantly as hard as a fucking rock. “Now, get off—”

I took her mouth, eating up her sweet little whimper. She was fucking mine, and that was it. Her smell, her skin, everything invaded my world, and I couldn’t see straight. My head felt dazed, like I was underwater, weightless and quiet. God, she tasted good.

I sucked on her bottom lip, tasting what I’d been fucking dying to get at for years. And I wanted to taste her everywhere. I went too fast, but I couldn’t control myself. It was like I needed to fit in all the lost time right now.

Her chest was pressed into mine, and I was between her legs. I tried to catch my breath between kisses. This was where I wanted to be, and why the fuck hadn’t I seen that sooner? She wasn’t fighting me, and I smiled as she stretched her neck back for me, inviting me in. I released my hold and dug my hands into her body, pulling her into my hips, so she could feel how much I wanted her.

She’d wrapped her legs around me, and I ran my hands up her thighs, in complete awe of her soft, hot skin. We weren’t going to fucking move until my hands or mouth had been on every part of her.

As I kissed her neck, she brought my face back up to her lips, and I reveled in how she responded. She wanted this as much as I did.

Hell, yes.

I knew I didn’t deserve it. I knew she deserved more. But I was going to bury myself in this girl or spend my life trying. I couldn’t get her close enough or kiss her fast enough. I wanted more.

I dove for the little spot under her ear, smelling and aching for her. I felt freer with her body wrapped around mine than I had in years.

“Jared, stop.” She pulled her head away from me, but I just kept going.
Nope. You. Me. And a fucking bed. Now.

I was about to carry her off when she yelled, “Jared! I said stop!” And she pushed me away.

I stumbled back, shocked out of my trance. Blood raced through my dick like Niagara Falls, my body screaming for her so hard. I stood there, trying to fucking figure out what to say to her to bring her back to me, but she didn’t give me a chance. She just leapt off the counter and ran out of the house.

Goddamn.

I had no idea what the hell I was going to do now, but one thing was for damn certain.

We weren’t done.

“Are you serious?” I leaned down to Madoc’s car window, where he sat in the driver’s seat listening to Pink.

“My music is none of your business.” He ended the conversation right there and continued staring out onto the track ahead.

It was Friday night, a long two days after my kiss with Tate, and we were at the Loop, getting set for Madoc’s race against Liam. His was listening to chick music, and I was trying not to laugh.

Not that Pink wasn’t hot as hell, but personally, I need something louder when I got zoned in.

K.C. rode with me tonight. I glanced over to the side, where I knew she was standing, and I tensed up when I saw her talking to Tate.

My chest swelled with a rush of heat.

“Dude, why are you smiling?” I heard Madoc’s voice.

I blinked and darted my eyes back down to him. He sat there, holding the steering wheel and narrowing his eyes at me.

“Was I smiling?” My face fell back into position.

“Yeah, and it’s weird. The only time you smile is when you’re pulling the wings off of butterflies,” he mumbled but then pinched his eyebrows together and twisted to look over his shoulder out the back window. “Is she here?”

“Who?”

“The butterfly you like to torment,” he teased.

“Fuck off,” I grumbled and headed back to my car.

My game plan with Tate had changed, and I had no clue how to explain myself to him.

So I didn’t.

But my lips curled up as flashes of how my idea of tormenting Tate had changed.

God, I wanted her.

That was it. Plain and simple.

That kiss—our first—was fucking torture, and I wanted more of it.

She had punished me with that kiss. Showing me what she could do to me. What we could do together. And that was just a taste.

K.C. sauntered over to me as I leaned back on the hood of my car. “Hi, ya.”

Tate followed behind with….fucking Ben Jamison. I let out a low sigh and averted my eyes to K.C.

“Hi, yourself.” I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, but I had no idea why.

K.C. and I were still keeping up the pretense of a relationship, but while she wanted to piss off Liam, I didn’t know what I was getting out of it.

“Hey, man.” Ben nodded at me.

I wanted to make him bleed from his eyes.

“Hey, how’s it going?” I asked and turned my attention back to the track before he had a chance to answer.

A thick silence filled the air, and my jaw twitched with a pent up smile.

You could feel the tension like a blister ready to pop, and I was enjoying the hell out of it.

I didn’t care if K.C. was comfortable, and I didn’t want Ben or Tate at ease, either.

In no universe would I be okay with her seeing him.

Or anyone, probably.

But K.C. decided to push.

“And Jared, this is Tatum Brandt,” she introduced us sarcastically. “Say ‘hi.’”

Yeah, we’ve met.

I slid my arm down around K.C.’s waist—because I’m a dick—and I let my eyes slide over to Tate slowly as if I couldn’t care less.

The air coming out of my nose heated up, and I couldn’t do anything but tip my chin at her and look away.

She was probably relieved that I could be that civil, but it was all an act. My insides were hot, and I wanted to kiss something and hit everything at the same time.

Ben thinking that he actually had a shot with her pissed me off.

And her outfit really pissed me off.

She was wearing a short, black school-girl skirt with a thin, white shirt—probably a tank top—and a gray jacket over it.

“And we’re ready!” Zack called out from the track, and I looked over to him as everyone started clearing the dirt road where Liam and Madoc would race.

Tate took a few steps towards the track, and I immediately took my arm off of K.C. and reached in my pocket for the fossil necklace. It wasn’t something I carried on me regularly, only on Sundays and for races.

“Ready?” some girl called out from the track.

The crowd cheered wildly as engines revved. Most of them probably had no idea that this was a shit race.

Madoc’s GTO against Liam’s Camaro?

Not even close.

Camaros could get the job done, but Liam was cluelss when it came to modifying his ride. Madoc had this.

“Set?” The girl yelled, but my eyes were glued to Tate who had turned to watch the take-off.

“Go!”

Cheers erupted, and everyone’s bodies blocked my view of the track as I stayed back against my car. It didn’t matter. I knew who was going to win, and there was only one person I wanted to watch right now.

Tate stood with her back to me, and for once, I didn’t have to pry my eyes away. I wasn’t guilty about wanting her anymore, and I was going to look.

She stood on her toes, trying to peer over the other spectators’ heads. The muscles in her legs flexed, and I wanted my hands on her.

The smooth contours of her skin and the memory of how, just two nights ago, those legs were wrapped around me, made me want to get her into the same position on the hood of my car.

I realized a long time ago that Tate wasn’t fourteen anymore. I mean, even at that age, she was beautiful, but we’d both just been kids.

The little desires and urges that used to sneak into my head had turned into full blown fantasies.

And now, we were old enough to entertain them.

“Shit!” K.C. cursed a few feet in front of me. “I spilled beer.”

Tate twisted around to see what happened, and the whole world stopped when she found my eyes instead.

That’s how she was different from other girls.