Authors: Rachel Blaufeld
Tiberius stiffened at that last part, and I looked up at him. “They told me that weekend that they made changes to their will, that the money would be all mine so I could break free and make a life for myself away from my parents. They knew what I was up against, how horrible my parents are.” My words trailed off at the end until they were nothing more than a whisper. “My grandparents wanted me to be extra-ordinary in spite of all the money, the luxuries I was raised with. Because they’d had all that themselves, they understood what was important in life. And all I ever asked for was to break free,” I said sadly.
I lifted my face to the sky, searching for a shooting star or some sign that someone was looking out for me. Tiberius gripped me tighter, squeezing my waist, reminding me he was my sign. My truth.
“You are breaking free,” he said softly, “just doing it on your own terms. I loved my momma, but I learned a long time ago that just ’cause someone gives a sperm or some shit like that, it doesn’t mean love. My dad, he’s in the rearview, and I’m sorry, babe, but you got to put your parents there too.”
I turned in his arms to face him. “What about us?” I asked while staring down at his sweatshirt, imagining the lines and definition of his chest beneath it.
“We’re gonna be good, Rex, if you stop running.” His voice turned dark as he added, “After I find this Coach Smith and fuck him up.”
“Don’t, Ty,” I whispered.
“I am. I will.”
He didn’t let me answer because he kissed me. Hard. He brought his hands around my back, pulling me close, taking my mouth and swiping his tongue through my lips in one stroke. His erection pressed against me, searing through my clothes, but this wasn’t about
that
. Not yet.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” I whispered against his lips.
“I won’t, but he will, babe,” he mumbled back before deepening the kiss. He lifted the blanket, tightening it around my back, yanking me even closer to him. We continued to make out, tasting, licking, consuming, and making up for lost time.
I broke free, trying to catch my breath. “I’m sorry,” I said as I leaned my forehead into his and closed my eyes.
“Shoulda come to me.” He gripped my butt, drawing me closer. We were one; there was no difference in where my body stopped and his began.
My eyes screwed shut, I mumbled against his shirt, “I’ve messed up everything in my life. I didn’t want to make a mess for you.”
“Open your eyes, T,” he said, and I looked up to find his blue eyes searching mine. “You didn’t mess shit up in your life. Your parents did. Leaving me could’ve messed shit up, but it didn’t because I fought for you. It’s time you fought for what you want and stop trying to shock everyone around you into submission. Be the extraordinary person you are, Rex.”
I ran my nose along his, giving him Eskimo kisses like a romantic fool. “Extraordinary? I thought you believed in being overly ordinary.”
“There’s always exceptions to the rules, and you’re one of them.” He ran his lips across my cheek, whispering his words along my skin until he bit my ear lobe for emphasis.
My tongue lingered along his jaw, my teeth sinking in for effect, and a moan rumbled from deep in his chest.
“Not time for slow,” he demanded, taking my mouth back in a brutal kiss.
Our tongues dueled, seeking control. I ran my hands up his chest, gripping his shirt and holding on for dear life, and then I tempered my actions. Tracing his lips, I circled his mouth before entering again.
“Slow is good,” I said, my words vibrating through both of us.
He nodded. “When we have all the time in the world in front of us, it is. Are you going to keep running?”
“No.”
“Good. It’s cold; let’s get you back to my place and warm you up in the shower.”
Looking up at him, I shook my head. “I don’t want to go back. I want to stay here forever, in our little forest where no one can mess anything up. Where my parents can’t find us, and the guys can’t tease us, and my roommates can’t hound us, and . . . ugh, Stacy. I forgot. She needs me to get back.”
I lost my train of thought as Tiberius kissed me again passionately, pulling me tight against him. He held the blanket with one hand and slipped the other underneath to unzip my coat, then roam down my side and under my shirt. His rough hand caught on the lace of my bra, his calluses from dribbling warring with the gentle fabric, until he slipped his hand under the cup and against my naked skin.
I loved the roughness of his palm coasting along my smooth breast; the friction added a whole new sensation. I brought one leg up and hitched it around his waist, hooking it around his ass to bring my heat closer to his erection.
“Ah,” I moaned down his throat as our tongues continued to dance.
“T? You good?” he asked.
“Uh-huh,” I murmured. “More.”
He pinched my nipple, sending ripples shooting through my belly and my core, traveling down to my toes. His finger continued to draw circles around my hard nipple, then he moved lower. His pointer finger traced down my abdomen, stopping and doing a little figure eight at my belly button before tracing the waistband of my pants. He dipped in, edging my panties away from my skin, teasing and taunting me with his slow seduction.
I was burning up in the blanket; my skin was covered in prickly heat. Using my foot on his behind, I gave myself some leverage to push myself closer, desperately trying to get some friction where I needed it.
Of course, he put his hand on my ass and stilled my movement. Holding me in place, not allowing me to grind against him, he started walking toward the nearby pavilion, his feet carrying us across the flooring as I swung my other leg up. He unwound the blanket, never letting go of me, my legs still wound around his middle and my arms over his shoulders. Placing the blanket over the wood chips, he laid us down on top of it.
If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine the lights trimming the overhang the night we first really talked at the party. Even without them, this moment was nearly perfect. It would be made better if Tiberius were inside me, but I could tell he was in one of his “slow” moods.
He leaned over me, his frame held up on his forearm as his lips hovered a breath away from mine. “No more running, no more believing strangers?” he asked, his lips brushing mine with his words.
“No,” I said. “Please kiss me.”
And he did. Then he lifted my shirt, sliding it over my head before he lowered his body a bit more to shield me from the cold air and share his body heat with me. He moved his mouth lower, taking a road trip down my body, stopping to make side trips down my terrain. He ran his tongue along my clavicle, licked and sucked my nipples, and traced meaningless yet reverent patterns on my belly. He would stop every so often to blow cool breath over the heated trail he already laid, making goose bumps and ripples of want rise to the surface in equal measure. Then he would begin his travels all over again.
I nearly climbed out of my skin from the delicious frustration of it all. Tiberius was on a luxurious vacation, and I wanted a quick getaway. But I knew better than to push my luck; Tiberius would get what he wanted and at the end of the day, I’d admit that taking our time was better. It was like getting a green card to stay and work and play versus only a passport.
Finally, he arrived at the top of my pants and traced his tongue along the waistband. “Tingly,” he let out on an exhale. My name sounded perfect rolling off his tongue. “You ready?”
I lifted my hips, signaling I wanted him to pull my pants off. He shimmied them down and pushed my panties to the side, allowing his tongue to leisurely course over me. He went up one fold and down the other, taking each run with infinite focus and care. I lifted my pelvis, hinting, begging—whatever it took to get him to go where I wanted. He didn’t rush, though, building my sense of urgency and need, and then he softly landed on my clit. When he flicked his tongue over my most sensitive spot, I moaned out loud, disregarding the fact that we were outside where anyone could bear witness to my ecstasy. It was a loud, luxuriating moan followed by another.
“Like that?” he teased.
His words rumbled over my core, ratcheting me even higher, and I came. My body burst into a million flames in the middle of a cold field during winter in Ohio. I may as well have been at the equator.
I tugged on his sweatshirt, which he was unfortunately still wearing, and motioned for him to move back up. I slid my hands under the fleecy fabric, pulling it over his head as he made his way up. His mouth came back to mine, fusing our lips. I tasted myself on his tongue, commingled with some type of spearmint from earlier. I sucked on the tip of it, wanting to get drunk on the mixture.
I’d always been a sexual person, but it had mostly been about the forbidden aspect of it, the satisfaction of doing it with someone I shouldn’t be doing it with in a place we shouldn’t have been. It wasn’t sensual or meaningful. This was different. Every touch, each movement was filled with passion and partnership. We were equals, lovers, friends, taking our time, not beating a stopwatch or dashing to the finish line before our parents walked in. This was the definition of the truth.
La vérité
.
“
Je t’aime
,” I whispered.
“English, T,” Tiberius growled. “You could’ve just told me that was the worst pussy eating you ever had.”
“I love you,” I said, laughing. “I said
‘I love you.’
For the record, the French lick or graze pussy, as in ‘
brouter le minou
.’ And for what it’s worth, that was incredible pussy licking.” It was the dirtiest and most forthright I’d been with Tiberius, but it didn’t feel silly or spoken only for the sake of being dirty. It was sexy and uninhibited with a person who I loved.
“Your moaning made that pretty clear,” he joked back.
I couldn’t help but burst out into giggles, but it didn’t last for long. Tiberius used his free hand to push his pants down—
thank God
for track pants. His boxer briefs went off with them, and he was totally naked, braced over me. I reached out to stroke him, his length long and rigid in my palm. My thumb brushed over his tip and his hips jerked forward, his dick pressing into my hand. I used the moisture to coat him and stroke him a few more times before he slid his hand on top of mine, stopping my movement.
“T, stop, I want inside you,” he bent and whispered in my ear. With his hand over mine, we guided him into me.
As we fit together as one, I finally understood what Tiberius had tried to convince me about the physical act of fucking feeling way better when the heart was involved. His had been involved for a long time now, and now mine was too. I hadn’t believed it before when he’d said it had to mean something, but now I did.
Everything
was better when it meant something.
We didn’t linger much longer in the cold that day after we made love, but we did hide out in Tiberius’s townhouse for a day and night before sitting down with the guys and filling them in about Coach Smith.
Tiberius was dead set on some sort of crazy revenge against the guy who’d impersonated his coach, and he wanted the whole squad on the lookout for the man. Jamel was fit to be tied over it all, and Trey punched a wall. After all, he’d had to live with Tiberius for the few weeks we were apart. Ginny and Chey had joined us for the chat, so I could fill everyone in at once. Ginny cried, and Chey decided she was “gonna kick some white ass.”
We were all sitting around Jamel’s condo, the music going in the background, pizza boxes and empty soda and beer bottles lining the table, when Jamel asked, “Where’s Stacy? She know what happened?”
“You know what? She’s been a real pain in the ass lately. Moody, weepy. I’m sick of her.” Chey rolled her eyes. “Ask Tingly . . . Stacy’s been sleeping in her room for a week,” she added as she glared at me.
Of course, Chey knew what was up; Stacy had told her as planned. She was simply playing Jamel with this conversation. And putting the onus on me.
Jamel turned his gaze toward me, raising an eyebrow, silently asking if I knew they had slept together.
“Dude, what do you give?” Lamar asked, his hand drifting over his braids.
Tiberius put his arm around me, pulling me tight into his side. “Yeah, what gives?”
Uncomfortable at being put on the spot, I stared at the carpet and shrugged. “She’s had a lot going on, I think. She doesn’t need this put on her . . . all my shit.”
Jamel dropped the subject until everyone was busy cleaning up, and then he sneaked up behind me while I was closing a garbage bag. “You gonna come clean? Tell me what’s going on?”
“Don’t, Jamel. Let it go,” I said, but it was wishful thinking.
“Ya know ’bout us, right?” he said in a low voice. “We had a few nights. She want more or what? Is that it?”
He’d cornered me in the small kitchen, making me extremely uncomfortable. I was leaning against the counter when he grabbed the garbage bag and threw it down before leaning close to me. Tiberius was involved in some game on the Xbox, otherwise he would have gone into attack mode.
“I’m helping T take the garbage out,” Jamel yelled before dragging me outside.