Page 4 of Only for You: Tap and Taryn
He got out, rounding the truck to her side, opening the door. When he offered his arm, she took it, leaning into him as they made their way up the porch steps. With her body pressed against his side, the touch conveying warmth and softness, it was stirring things he thought he’d buried deep. The door creaked open, and inside, the house smelled like her, the sweet, light floral, with a hint of vanilla.
Memories flooded him:
He was sneaking in through her window, looking for her sixteen-year-old grin. A couple hours later they lay wrapped up in each other and the tangled sheets, her sweet hums muffled against his shoulder. “I’ll love you forever, Taryn. I promise.
So many promises.
“Here in the living room okay? Ready to get off that leg?” he asked, voice gruff.
“Yeah.” She sank onto the couch, wincing, and he knelt to prop her leg on a pillow. His hands lingered on her calf, fingers tracing the silk hose, that damned clip of the garter peeking again. Heat surged through him, possessive and raw. Who was she dressing for?
Not me. Not anymore.
“You should ice it,” he said. Tap stood abruptly and took a step backwards, needing distance.
“Kitchen’s that way.” She pointed, and he rolled his eyes because of course he knew the direction the kitchen lay. He knew every room in this house, and had memories in nearly all of them. He could feel the weight of her gaze following him as he went.
He rummaged in the freezer for a minute, finally setting on a bag of peas. He retrieved a towel from a drawer and wrapped it over the bag. Automatic movements, because his mind was on her and the situation she’d only partially explained. Divorced, moving back here where she was emotionally vulnerable.What was the real reason?
When he returned, she was staring at the doorway. Her gaze traced down and back up, and he stared at her. It was a revelation, her there with one lip caught between her teeth, the same way she’d always looked at him years ago just before they’d kiss.As if I hung the moon.
“Here.” He pressed the ice to her thigh, his hand brushing her skin. She gasped, not from cold, but something else. Their eyes locked, and the air crackled.
“Tap,” she whispered, hand covering his. “I … I’m sorry. For everything.”
The apology hit like a freight train, cracking the walls he’d built. “Sorry? You shredded me, Taryn. Left me for some college prick because I wasn’t good enough.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I was scared. Young. Stupid. You were enlisting, leaving anyway. I thought … better to end it clean.”
“Clean?” He laughed bitterly, but didn’t pull away. “Nothing about us was clean. It was fire, baby. Consuming.”
She pulled him closer, fingers digging into his shirt. “I never stopped thinking about you, Tap. My hand to God. My divorce? It was a long time coming. Years. I learned quickly that he wasn’t you. No one is.”
The confession broke something in him. He leaned in, mouth crashing onto hers, hungry and demanding. She moaned, opening for him, tongues tangling in a dance they both remembered. His hands roamed, rucking up her skirt, finding that garter belt, thumbs hooking under the clips. “Fuck, Taryn,” he growled against her neck. “You wear this for work?”
“For me,” she breathed, arching into him. “But now it’s all for you.”
He claimed her then, on that couch, their clothes only half-off, bodies slamming together with the force of lost time. It was rough, real, and felt desperate. Her nails raked his back, and his teeth left a matching mark on her throat. When they came, it was together, a shatter of ecstasy that left them panting, tangled.
He lay on his back, Taryn tucked close to his side.
“Good thing your couch would fit sasquatch.” He gave her a squeeze, loving how she still fit against him, all these years later.
“I bought it to lay on with wine and cheese at hand, thought it would be a good moping piece of furniture.” Taryn turned her face enough to press a kiss against his skin. “Sasquatch makes better sense.”
It grew quiet, and as his skin chilled, doubt tried to creep in. “Taryn, what are we doing here? Was this a one-off?”
“It’s not nostalgia, I promise.”
All the promises.
“Is this the start of something? Is that what you want?” Her breath hitched at his words, and Tap waited for her response.
“I think it is. If you want me.”
“Fuck, Taryn, I never stopped wanting you.” Tap turned to his side and pushed up on an arm. Staring down at her, he grinned, and she smiled back. “Feels like the start of something new. As long as we’re both honest about where we are. If things go forwards, we’ve got to talk. We’re not stupid teenagers anymore, Tee. I want this, but you’re gonna have to meet me halfway.
“Yes,” she whispered, tears gathering along the bottom lid. “Together. We’ll build something. Yes.”
