Page 63 of Give You Up

Needing Taron’s trust—otherwise Rhett and Hunter will keep me at arm’s length if there is a possessive male with me ready to tear into them if they look at me wrong—I tell Taron the truth.

“You gave me up? Gave up on us because you thought it was the right thing to do? Didn’t you trust in what I felt for you?”

“Not back then. There were—” I swallow past the rawness in my throat, like the lining’s been abraded with dull glass. “There were other things in my life that clouded the picture. Please, give me time to tell you the rest. Just know I’m sorry for hurting you. For ghosting you. Had I known how deeply I hurt you, I would’ve gone to see you sooner and asked for your forgiveness.”

“Do you mean it? That you’ll tell the rest of your story? Shit, I was so worried, babe. Mom and I went to the cops. They told us you left with family, but refused to give us more information other than you were safe. You leaving me tore me up.”

“I am so sorry. If you never forgive me, I understand.” Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I grab at my stomach.

He takes my hand in his. Presses his mouth to the center of my palm. “The thing is, I do forgive you, baby. How can we move forward, make any progress in this work in progress of ours, if there are words left unsaid or actions left unforgiven?”

Shaking my head, I slide my hand out of his hold and step back. He shouldn’t forgive me so easily. Four years is a long time not to get closure.

“Syn?” He reaches for me.

I stare at his hand. “You shouldn’t forgive me at all,” I blurt out. “Why are you?”

“Progress. Closure. You. Seeing you hurt like this kills me, Pixie Dust.”

He pulls me into his arms, and my heart wins over my brain. Needing to touch him, I lift my head and press my nose into the underside of his neck. He smells good, this mix of clean and warm, like a much-needed breeze on a sweltering day.

“How’d you get so wise?” I murmur against his skin.

“I’m not. How about we learn to be wise together?”

How can I refuse when he says words that make my heart pitter-patter? And how can I hold back the overwhelming urge to answer him with heated kisses? I can’t.

Undone by our team effort at this “work in progress,” I bring him down to me. Our mouths fuse. Our tongues explore and taste. I slacken against his solid body. Tunnel my fingers in his hair. Remember vividly our times together.

Taron runs hot in everything. His temper. His fiery caresses. His passion for playing ball. His kisses.

Goodness, his kisses . . . He deepens the kiss. Groans in my mouth when I open further for him. Aching for more of him, I trail my fingers down the front of his buttoned-up shirt. Keep going until my palm coasts over the bulge behind his zipper. I caress the outline of his erection, his thickness pulsing hot against my palm through his black slacks.

Breathless, I tear my mouth from his and graze my teeth over the warm flesh of his neck. I nip and suck until Taron’s had enough. He clamps his big hands on my hips, spins me around, and bends me over the foot of the bed.

Desperation tearing through me at the loss of his body heat, and understanding fully what will bring him back to me, I hike up my skirt, spread my arms wide to the sides, and tip up my ass.

Sudden intake of breath from behind me.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

I tremble from his approval. Bite down on my moan when his body heat engulfs me. Teasing me. Taron is close but not close enough. I reach back for him.

“Let me look my fill, Pixie Dust.”

I should be mortified that he is staring at my behind and my folds, slick with my arousal. Except I’m not. I am safe with Taron, and feeling safe is sexy as hell. I relax fully on the mattress. Suck my bottom lip into my mouth. Cool metal strokes my tongue, and my lip ring gets me hot and bothered for one reason. I cannot wait to blow him.

He likes the feel of the ring on his erection. Metal on flesh. Cool on warm. Oh, God. Oh, God. My needy sex throbs. Thick fingers ease the ache, stroking along my slit as my panties are pulled off to the side.

Rough knuckles press into my wetness. A shiver of pleasure passes through me. Craving more, I rub my sex on Taron’s knuckles. He ups the pressure. I up the pace. Up. Down. Fast. Faster.

“Baby, that is hot.”

His knuckles leave my sex. I protest. Until I see what he’s doing when I glance over my shoulder. He is sucking my juices off his skin. My eyes widen.

Ready for more, I look away and wiggle my ass. Does he get the message? Hell yes, he does. He glides his fingers in my hair and yanks. Slides his thick fingers inside me and pumps in and out.

“Taron.” I reach for him.

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