Page 73 of Piece Of Me

“Oh,” Ryan said excitedly. “That’s my favorite, Cam.”

“I know.” Cameron said, already reaching for a wisp of hair to curl around her finger. “That’s why I picked it.”

Taz kept to his spot, content to watch as Scarlett read The Velveteen Rabbit to the girls. When she was done, he helped tuck them into their beds. They asked about Hank again, about when they’d see him next, and her answer wasn’t one he liked.

“I’m not sure.” She didn’t meet his gaze and headed downstairs while he kissed them both good-night. After another round of hugs, Taz made sure their nightlight was working and then closed the bedroom door.

He found Scarlett in the living room, looking at the family photos on a table by the fireplace. He watched her for a few moments and then cleared his throat.

“Oh,” she said softly, turning to face him.

She looked tired. And there was a sadness about her he’d never seen before. The energy was one of disquiet, as if she were unsure. And that bothered him more than anything. They’d always been easy. Natural. Like they belonged together.

He needed to rip off this Band-Aid, the one holding them together, and figure this shit out.

“Scarlett.” He took a step forward.

“No,” she said softly, moving toward him. “Not yet.”

He couldn’t read her, and he hated the feeling. But when she pressed up against him, her body warm and pliant, he was lost to anything else. Her hands slid onto either side of his face and she coaxed him to lower his head.

Which he did.

How could he not?

He’d been starving for a taste since the day before. She opened beneath him, and he deepened the kiss, his head spinning, his body already hard with need. Their tongues melted together, and he groaned, pulling her to him as tightly as he could, destroyed by a need he knew he’d never be able to shake.

She broke away, her mouth bruised from his and before his brain could put together what she was doing, she sank to her knees and tugged at the snap on his jeans.

“What are you doing?” he asked roughly.

She freed his cock, and he didn’t have time to think or say or feel anything other than her warm, hot, wet mouth as it closed around him. Slowly she began to suck, her hands holding him in place as she worked him over.

He was helpless, could do nothing but let her have every inch that he had. Carefully, his hands sank into her hair, and he gently guided her as the fire inside him grew.

“You feel so good,” he breathed, head back as the pressure continued to build. Sweat broke out, a thin sheen across his body, and he groaned, trying his best to hold back. When he finally got hold of himself, he looked down at her, only to catch her gaze on him. The sight of her there, on her knees, those huge eyes wide and dark with need, did something to him. It tore at the very core of who he was, and he knew he was close to losing control.

He pulled back and lifted her up. “I need to be inside you,” he said roughly.

Taz lifted her skirt and tore off her panties, tossing them to the side as he bent her over the sofa. She was wet, so ready for him. He didn’t hesitate. In one thrust he buried himself as deep as he could, and when she whimpered, he nearly came. He held her hips tightly, fighting for the control he needed, because one part of him wanted to bang it out like a newbie, while the other part of him wanted this to last as long as he could make it.

He clamped his mouth shut and began the dance, and though she thrust her hips higher, and tried to increase their tempo, he kept them steady. In and then out. In and then out. He reached around, and his greedy fingers found the spot he wanted. He rubbed her there, smiling savagely when she cried out at his touch. Taz continued the assault until Scarlett was nearly in tears with need and his body could take no more.

When they came together it was surreal. On one hand he’d never felt closer to another human being in his life, but as he held her after, their slick bodies heaving from the aftereffects of their lovemaking, he caught sight of her in the mirror on the wall opposite to them, and her expression was shuttered. Sad.

It was sobering to say the least. He withdrew and no words were spoken while they cleaned up and got dressed.

“Scarlett,” he began again, voice rough and low.

“I have to go away for a few days,” she said, cutting him off. She licked her lips nervously and gave a small shrug. “A week maybe.”

He frowned; her words unexpected. “Why?”

“I have some things I need to do.”

“What things?” Anger coiled in his gut.

“I just…stuff,” she replied, turning from him. She played with the edge of her skirt and that anger in him boiled over.

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