Page 39 of Unveiled

Chapter Twenty-One

Walking back into Rush’s house felt different. Different good, but also different, unsure. She was walking in as herself, a free version of herself. It was the first time since her parent’s murder; the sense of freedom. Their deaths weighed her down more than she’d realized. The not knowing was life altering, like she’d been in an emotional holding pattern.

Unsure because of how she’d left. Rush said he loved her, but it took more than love to have a successful relationship with a future. It took trust, trust that you can go to sleep and the person you love will still be there when you wake up. Tatum could only imagine what he must’ve felt. Her heart broke for the moment he realized she was gone, and she’d purposely done that. Not with the intention to cause him pain, but the result was the same.

Would he understand? Could he forgive? She took a deep breath and vowed to find out, and if he did forgive her, she’d spend as long as it took to rebuild what they had or what she thought they could have. She watched as Rush plopped down on the couch with a sigh and started taking off his boots. He looked tired, like soul tired. Guilt assaulted her as she acknowledged her part in that.

Tatum knelt in front of him and took over the task. “Tatum?”

She looked up into his amazing green eyes, doing her best not to hide the emotions warring within her. He deserved to see it all. Experience a level of love that had nothing to do with what he offered in return, but just freely given. “Relax. Let me take care of you, please? You’ve been taking care of me since you walked into the room that night. It has to be exhausting.”

Words from the morning they met came back to her. It was exhausting, she knew first-hand. And she recognized the armor he wore better now, too. It was heavier than she had initially thought. “We’re safe, I’m safe, you’re safe, sit back and take off your armor. Set down the weight you’re carrying.”

Rush pulled his shirt over his head and sank back into the cushion as she removed his socks. He closed his eyes and relaxed a bit for the first time since they’d met.

“Please, don’t ever leave me again.” His mumbled plea splintered her soul.

“I’m sorry, Rush. I just—” She was interrupted when he leaned forward, pulling her up to straddle his lap. He let go of the grip he had under her arms and grasped her face, just staring into her eyes. She saw a wealth of emotion blazing in the green that reminded her of liquid glass.

“You don’t owe me an apology. I know why you did it. I would’ve done the same damn thing. It was wrong of me to expect you to just accept you may not have answers. Hell, I wouldn’t. So, you don’t need to be sorry, I’m just asking you to not leave me again. Not like that. Not at all. And I won’t ask you to do something I wouldn’t do myself, making you feel like you have to sneak off. Deal?”

Tatum threw her arms around him and buried her nose in his neck. That smell soothed her. It was just so Rush. So. . .home.

“Deal.” She kissed his neck and elicited a groan. “I love you, Russell Sampson.”

Rush scooted them to the front edge of the couch and coaxed her to stand as he raised his hips to remove his jeans. “Your pants, lose ‘em.” He shucked his jeans and slid back, waiting on her.

“I want to hear those words while I’m buried inside you.” Rush made a motion of impatience with his hand, so Tatum did as he asked and straddled his lap again. When his hand touched her where she ached, she moaned. “Fuck, you’re already wet for me.”

Just a few well-placed touches were all it took for her to become as impatient as him.

Taking the lead, she grasped his dick and impaled herself. A few pumps and she sank all the way down when Rush stilled her hips with his hands. “Say it again?”

She gripped his wrists and pried his hands up and held them on the couch cushion by his head. Much the way he liked to do with her. “I. Love. You. Rush.” She punctuated each word with a rocking motion that hit the spot in her body that gave her goosebumps.

He pummeled up into her body while she held his wrists, anchoring herself, chanting her love. Rush wrenched his hands from her grip. Cupping the back of her neck with one hand, he brought their foreheads together, not disrupting a single thrust. His other hand dropped between them, doing wicked things. A ripple of pleasure started to wind through her body and her lids slid closed. “Open your eyes, Babes. Look at me.” When she complied, she witnessed a fire of passion and love burning in his. “Say it again.”

Her mind was muddied, and speech was difficult. Pleasure was riding her hard and ecstasy was crashing over her. “I love you.” Three words she managed to push from her lips before her orgasm took hold. Rush rotated their bodies so she was lying on the couch, continuing to fuck her, driving her into the cushions.

“Damn right you do.” He shouted as he emptied his body into hers. They lay on the couch catching their breath until they heard his motorcycle. Tatum tried to get up and cover herself, but Rush held her tight and kicked the throw blanket up from the arm to drape over them.

“They’re not coming in, Babes. Rest, because I want a repeat in a few minutes.” She burrowed into his body, relaxing. “So, can I wear a white suit, kind of like John Travolta did in Saturday Night Fever?” Rush nuzzled her neck, dropping lazy kisses against her sweat-damped skin.

“What are you talking about?”

He propped himself up on his elbow and gave her that devilish smile. “Our wedding.” He answered as he leaned in and sucked her nipple into his mouth before releasing it with a pop. “Damn, Babes. I love your tits.”

“Wait, what?”

“Your tits, they’re fabulous.”

It was her turn to prop up. Using both elbows, she brought herself eye level with him. “Not that part, before that, but after the John Travolta thing.”

She could see in his eyes he knew exactly what she was talking about. He was just being Rush. “Oh, our wedding?”

“Bingo. So, is that your way of asking me to marry you?”

“Why change my MO now? It was recently pointed out to me I’m a teller not an asker.” He plucked at her other nipple, causing her eyes to roll back in her head, but she needed to focus. “But no, Babes. That’s my way of saying I wanna marry you and I hope you wanna marry me, too. We’ll play some Bee Gees and dance the night away under a mirror ball while our friends toast to how awesome we are as a couple. Then, we’ll tie some cans to the back of the National and drive off to this great little lake cabin I know about and fuck like bunnies for days on end until Mark demands I show my face at work.”

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