Kiss My Boots (Coming Home #2)

The dark curtains in his room are pulled closed, the muted sun, high in the sky, trying to make its way into his bedroom, but only casting a low light into the space. We’ve practically been skin-to-skin since he called to tell me his grandparents would be gone the whole day and night and that I should figure out a way to spend that entire time with him, in his bed. He was leaving at the end of the week, and this would be one of the last times that we would have a moment like this until he came back next summer. If it was possible, I would spend every one of those moments with him inside me, imprinting the feeling in my brain so I have the memory of it to carry me until I see him again.

Finally gaining control of himself, he opens those blue eyes I love so much. “I know it’s different, Quinn. Not just because we know each other in a way that no other person does. Even if we hadn’t been each other’s firsts, this would still mean just as much to me as I’m sure it does to you, darlin’. I’ll get breaks, and I can come back here for some of them instead of goin’ to my parents’ house. Now you’re done with school, maybe you can come out to Georgia. We’re gonna make this work. I haven’t gone a day without at least gettin’ an email, text, or call from you in all those seven years and I’m not goin’ to start now.”

“It still sucks after what we shared this summer, havin’ to say good-bye.” I pout, knowing he’s right, but still not liking it.

“It won’t ever feel right until we’re at that point where school and distance don’t keep us apart.”

“God, Tate, you’re goin’ to medical school—that’s a lifetime!”

He laughs, his chest moving erotically against my breasts. I try to move my hips, but he doesn’t relent in his hold.

“It’s not a lifetime, Quinn. Nothin’ will ever keep me from you. If you love me even a sliver as much as I love you, then a few years apart will just make us stronger. There’s never been anyone else for me, and darlin’, there never will be.”

I feel a tear roll down my cheek, falling against his forearm my head is resting on.

He lets go of my hip, lifting his fingers to my face to wipe away the rest before they all join the one that escaped. He moves until his forehead is pressed against mine, placing the lightest of kisses against the tip of my nose. My breath hitches and I stare into his eyes, soaking up everything about the boy I love, filing it away in a safe place in my mind so that I don’t ever forget it.

He doesn’t look away or move his head from mine, but I feel his hand slide between our bodies. He shifts his hips, and the leg I slung over them moves with him. Then I feel the thick tip of his cock press against my opening, holding still while he continues to search my eyes.

“No matter how far away I am, there will never be a day that passes that I don’t wish I was here. I’ve never loved anyone else, Quinn, never and that’s somethin’ that won’t ever change. Feel me and let me show you how much I love you. Feel us and let yourself remember that nothin’ will ever win except this—us.”

Then he’s pushing his length into me, my body stretching to accommodate his thickness. I know from watching him sink into me so many times this summer that he’s not even all the way in, and I already feel so beautifully full. I whine, needing more, but he just continues his slow push into me, the sensation tattooing itself into my very being.

I know his control is costing him just as much as it’s costing me. Both of us are panting with need. My eyes burn with the need to blink, but I refuse to look away from his face until I see him feel me surrounding him completely. I’ve become addicted to the expression that crosses his face at that moment.

“God, Tate, move, honey,” I gasp, the burn of him continuing to stretch me, making my vision blur, even though I’m more than wet enough.

His fingers, now at my hip, flex. The arm around my back jolts, curling up until his hand is cupping my shoulder. Then he gives one steady push and finishes entering me.

The second I feel him hit a spot deep inside of me, I behold what I had been waiting to see. The jaw that had been locked relaxes, his full bottom lip separating from the top one with a small puff of air. His strong cheekbones are covered in a light blush. And those eyes that I could get lost in lose focus even while still looking into mine, as he seems to vanish into some other world; then his lids lower and his eyelashes flutter over his cheeks.

Pure bliss.

That’s the expression I crave.

In the seconds that it took for me to get that, my center is already tightening around him just waiting for him to move. That’s all it takes for me, and I’m seconds away from shooting off into space.

His eyes open again, clear now, and before he starts to move, the arm around my back yanks me into his chest and his mouth is devouring mine. Then, as if we’re moving as one, he’s thrusting into me as I roll my hips into his, the erotic sounds coming from both of us muffled as our tongues continue to tangle together. My hands, resting against his chest since we shifted, slide up, one going to rest against his neck and the other wrapping around his back. My nails dig into his flesh at the same time his fingers clamp down on mine. In the back of my mind, I hope to God that we’re marking each other.

When our bodies start to move erratically, both of us on the cusp of euphoric ecstasy, he pulls his head back and pants against my mouth.

“I. Love. You.” He stresses each word with a slam of his cock deep into my body.

My toes curl and I explode around him, my body tightening so fiercely that I feel the sensation steal my breath.

“I love you too, Tate,” I rasp through a painful deep gasp. “I love you so much.”





18


TATE


“Die a Happy Man” by Thomas Rhett

- -

“I love you so much.”

My eyes snap open in the darkness when I hear Quinn’s murmured, sleep-drunk words as they dance across my neck. I know she’s still passed out and just talking in her sleep, since her breathing is just as slow and steady as it was when I climbed into bed behind her ten minutes ago and instantly felt her curl into my side.

But, rational or not, those four words rush through my veins until they slam into my heart, the force of their hit stealing the breath from my lungs.

One day, when she’s not lost in her dreams, I’m going to get to hear them again, and I’ll fucking make sure she never goes a day without feeling like I deserve them.

I lie there with a stupid fucking grin on my face and let my mind wander. I have no idea how I managed to fight the pull I’ve always felt to her, not after what I felt snapping into place as I started making my way back over the last two months. The day I found out about Paw, it was just a sizzle of awareness. When I turned in my resignation back in Georgia, it was a burn. The minute I heard her voice over the phone, it was a searing pain, tugging at my chest for all it was worth. Then, when I finally saw her, it was a shot of pure ecstasy to the fucking heart. I had lived without her for so long, I could have cried on the fucking spot.

Ever year the struggle to stay away became more and more overwhelming. The hot summer months in Georgia would hit and I would get the itch to just say fuck the consequences and jump in my truck and speed to her. Then I would remember everything that was at stake and I would spend the next handful of hours later in one of the biggest depressions ever.

I’ll never feel that again.

Never.

Not now that I finally have her back in my life. All that’s left to do now is convince her to love me again.