Page 39 of Only You
I meant for him not to climb off me in the moment, but the words hang heavy between us, and he pulls his head back just enough to look into my eyes. “I’ll never leave you.”
“What if I push you away again?” I ask so quietly, I barely hear myself voicing the fear that has to be on his mind because it’s on mine too.
He slowly sits up, and I let him, sitting up with him. It’s a little awkward because we both still have our shoes on and our pants pushed down, but we manage. His hand cups my jaw. “I won’t let you.”
“I don’t want to. You have to know that, but I’m messed up, Tatum.”
“We all are. But we’re also not,” he says cryptically, and I wait for him to explain. “We’re survivors. We were born to shitty parents who didn’t deserve us, and we survived. We were placed with shitty humans who treated us like dirt. And we survived. We lost each other.” He strokes his thumb over my cheek. “And we found each other again.”
“Don’t let me go,” I say helplessly. “I get too into my head sometimes. I don’t think I’m worthy.”
“You’re more worthy of love than anyone on this planet,” he growls, and I can’t fight the smile.
“I don’t always know that.” It’s something I’ve always struggled with. It all goes back to my mother. If my own mother wouldn’t fight to keep me, why would anyone else? But Tatum—God, this man—he’s just different.
On every single level.
“I’ll remind you,” he says, leaning in for a quick kiss before toeing his shoes off and standing up. I try not to ogle the man, but it’s impossible. Ink covers nearly every inch of his body, and I’m entranced by it all.
Bright, bold colors. It’s all very him.
I can’t help but notice his now flaccid, yet still extremely impressive dick, surrounded by neatly trimmed pubic hair and hanging between his legs, still covered in cum. I expect him to pull his jeans up, sticky mess be damned, but he just lowers them and kicks the jeans and underwear away, striding bare-assed into my kitchen.
I can’t help but laugh when he grabs the oven mitt and pulls the cookies out of the oven. They look a little crispy but not burned. It’s all very domestic and insanely sexy.
I watch the way his ass flexes while he puts the cookies down to cool and fight to get my jeans and underwear off. If he’s going to walk around naked, so am I.
I go to him and wrap my arms around his waist. The wordsI love youhang on the tip of my tongue.
I don’t say them though. I’m not sure I have the right to say them to him yet, but I feel them.
“Pretty great first date, right?”
He kisses my temple as he wraps his arms around me. “First of many, Remy.”
I smile at that.
First of many.
I like the sound of that.
SIXTEEN
“Holy shit, you’re actually alive,” Kellan says, being a total asshole and over-the-top, but I guess it has been a while since I’ve been to his house.
Like four days. But for us, that’s a long time. I can’t help it though. I’ve been spending every free second wrapped around Remy.
“I’ve seen you every day at work, asshole.”
He chuckles and lets me into the house. I look around and don’t see a single soul. I cock my brow at him, and he laughs. “Cason is at football practice. Braylen is getting ready. Kieran is outside, reading. Phillip is picking up Raegan from art class.”
I flop down on the couch, and he follows. “I can’t believe Cason is playing football. Thought he hated sports.”
“He does, but that kid also needs to be kept busy.”
I nod my head in agreement because I can’t argue with that. The busier the better when it comes to Cason—something I know all too well.
“So?” He looks at me expectantly, and since he’s been such an ass, I decide to be one also, even though I know exactly what he wants to know.
