Page 172 of Runaways

"You give me a headache…regularly. A lot of anxiety, too. Historically, you've contributed to my own self-loathing and a violent mental breakdown."

I scoff. "Okay, well, I take it back then. No, thank you to all of that."

"I'm kidding, mostly." He grabs me by what's left of my hair and pulls me into his side. "You know I love you."

He kisses my cheek and wraps an arm around my waist.

"Yeah, I know."

We take our wine back inside, leaving the front door open so the cool summer breeze fills the space. Tate turns on the radio and sits on the couch.

He's gotten really into AM radio shows over the past year. And even though he's used to it, he still doesn't love silence or sitting still. I wonder what goes through his head these days when it gets quiet, but if he's bothered, he doesn't tell us. And if he's still haunted, he doesn't show it.

I sit on the floor between his legs and drink from my wine bottle.

"Silas should be back by now."

"You always do this. Silas is the last person you need to worry about out there."

"Well, you're the only people I really care about. Why would I worry about anyone else first?"

"You know what I mean," he says, combing my hair with his fingers. "There's nothing to worry about."

"Maybe I have abandonment issues."

"Maybe you're the one who needs to cut back on the wine," Tate says. "You need to relax. Why don't you come sit on my lap?"

I take another swig from the bottle and set it on the coffee table.

"Why don't you come down here and make me?"

I smile, waiting, and when I feel him shift, I quickly scurry away on all fours. I scream when he grabs me by the ankle and pulls me to the ground. He climbs on top of me, pinning my thighs to the ground with his knees, and pulls my tank top over my head, leaving my chest bare.

"You knew how this was going to end." He removes his shirt and tosses it aside, revealing a lean, muscled chest and torso, covered in black ink.

Tossing the shirt aside, Tate lies on top of me, his lips engulfing mine while his right hand runs up my thigh, hitching my leg around his waist. He rolls his hips, grinding his hard cock between my legs while his tongue tangles with my own and his fingers toy with my nipple.

I reach between us, opening the front of his jeans, and take him in my hand while he thrusts against me.

"You are so fucked," he saysagainst my lips.

"I want to taste you," I tell him.

I roll until he's the one on his back and then I pull his jeans and boxers down his hips. His dick springs free, and I pump it in my fist, watching precum leak from the tip before I lick it clean and take him in my mouth, hallowing my cheeks around him as I work him from base to tip.

"Fuck, that feels good." He grabs a handful of my hair, gripping it tightly while thrusting up into my mouth. It takes me off guard, and I choke a little. Tears leak from the corner of my eyes.

"I can't help it," he says. "It feels too good. And you look too fucking pretty when your eyes water, baby."

I look up at him with the same watery eyes, squeezing my thighs together as I suck and swirl my tongue around the tip.

"Fuck…" he groans. "You're gonna make me come."

"Couldn't wait for me, huh?"

Silas kneels shirtless behind me, leaning over to stroke my cheek while I take Tate in my mouth. Between the open door and the radio, I didn't even hear him come in.

I let the tip fall from my lips, and Tate groans in frustration. "You're late," I tell Silas.

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