Until You
Page 59

 Penelope Douglas

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Tate wasn’t what I would call “controlled,” but she’d been holding her own with Madoc and me since her return.
Until now.
“I make you nervous,” I said regretfully, looking at the shattered glass on the floor.
“Just go.” I heard her pained whisper and flinched.
Looking up at her, I saw the embarrassment and frustration in her eyes. She didn’t want me here. I didn’t know if it was because she hated me and needed me gone or because she wasn’t sure what she wanted.
I was finally seeing how I had twisted her up. I was playing with her, even though I didn’t mean to. I thought I hated her, so I pushed her. Now, I wanted her, so I was pulling her back in.
Time and again, it was about me and never her.
“Look at me.” I brought my hand up to her cheek and a shock of heat traveled through my arm. “I’m sorry. I should never have treated you the way I did.”
Her eyes met mine, and I willed her to believe me.
Her breathing got shallow, and she searched for something in my eyes.
Or waited for something.
Placing my other hand on her cheek, I never broke contact. She watched me inch in, not welcoming me but not resisting it, either.
I moved my lips closer, never taking my eyes from hers as I waited for her to push me away. As the seconds ticked by I finally snatched up her mouth before I let her have any more time to reconsider.
Hell, yes.
I held her in my hands, tasting her sweet, full lips like I couldn’t get enough.
Tate. My Tate. My best friend, and my worst enemy. The girl that turned my world upside down with her overalls and red baseball cap.
The only person in every one of my good memories.
Her hands were hesitant at first, but then they snaked around my neck, and I felt her unfold around me.
Goddamn, her soft body rubbed against mine, the softest moan coming out of her mouth, and my fists tightened in her hair. I was about to lose it. She had the power. Always had and always would.
She moved her h*ps up against mine, and I ran my hands down her sides and around to her perfect, rounded ass.
Grabbing it in my hands, I jerked her into me.
Mine.
The f**king wet, heat of her mouth, and the curve of her br**sts against my chest, got my c**k aching for release. I wanted to push all this shit onto the floor and take her on the table.
I wondered if she was a virgin, and my neck broke out in a sweat at the thought of anyone else kissing her like this.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” I whispered against her mouth. “All the times I’d see you next door…it drove me crazy.”
She opened her mouth wider and dove in for more.
Yeah, we weren’t leaving here for a while.
Chapter 26
I wasn’t about to make love to Tate for the first time on a lab table—not that she’d let me—but I wasn’t letting go of her yet, either.
Unfortunately, she had other ideas.
“Don’t…” She ripped away from my lips and pulled back.
What? No.
I opened my eyes, breathing hard and suddenly very empty.
I searched every inch of her face, wondering why the hell she’d made me stop. Her mouth had been molded to mine, totally kissing me back.
She’d wanted that.
But not now. Her blue eyes narrowed angrily, and she looked like she had on invisible armor.
Her body wanted it, but she didn’t.
She didn’t.
So I backed off. “Then I won’t,” I replied coldly.
She stared at me, looking a million miles away. “What are you up to?”
“I want us to be friends.” I let out a bitter laugh.
“Why now?”
Jesus.
“Why so many questions?” I retorted.
“You didn’t think it was going to be this easy, did you?”
“Yes,” I lied. “I was hoping we could move forward without looking back.” I knew it was too much to expect, but I let myself hope that Tate would see the bigger picture.
That with all of the anger and damage, with all the distance and misunderstanding, we still fit.
“We can’t,” she shot back. “You go from threatening me one day to kissing me the next. I don’t switch gears that fast.”
Me?
“Kissing you? You kissed me back… both times,” I pointed out. “And now you’re off to the school dance with Madoc. You might say I’m the one with whiplash here.”
She blinked, and her face faltered for a moment. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she replied pathetically.
“You shouldn’t go.”
“I want to. And he asked me.” She returned to her work, signaling the end of the discussion.
No f**king way.
My arms burned. I wanted to bring her back into them.
Stepping up behind her, I breathed her in. The top of her head fell just below my chin, and her whole torso—arms included—fit the width of my chest.
She fit.
“Has he been on your mind, Tate?” I inhaled the scent in her hair and braced both of my hands on the table on each side of her, caging her in. “Do you want him? Or is it me you dream of?”
Her hands slowed what they were doing, and I took that as a good sign, so I kept going.
“I said that when I put my hands on you, you’d want it. Remember?” I asked smoothly, trying to touch her with my words.
She paused for a moment and then turned around to look at me. “I don’t think it’s any secret that I like it when you touch me. When you’re ready to tell me everything you’re holding back, then maybe I’ll trust you again. Until then…” And she turned back around, cutting the connection.