Page 52 of Endurance
His comment shoots through me like a lightning bolt trying to heat my frozen heart. “Thanks, but it’s different. Imagine if you didn’t play football. What do you think your dad would have done?”
He frowns. “I honestly don’t know. I’d like to think he’d support me.”
“Well, my parents aren’t like that. They have expectations. I chose to go to med school instead of law school and, to my parents, that was the equivalent of spitting on the family crest.”
“Christ,” he scoffs, but I continue because I’m on a roll now.
“You get along with your family because you’re all wild and outspoken and say how you feel and love each other no matter what. Well, mine isn’t like that. They love the box my birth checked. But the second I stepped out of that box of the dutiful child, I did more harm than good. And well, you’ve seen a glimpse of my crazy. Imagine getting that full force.”
He frowns. “You don’t scare me, Belle.”
“Then you are in the minority. I’m just being realistic.” I turn around and press my back to the wall. “My family lives the society life. They are political and social climbers. Constant parties, constant dinners, constant charities, schmoozing, boozing. And it’s always for a selfish goal. My brother is perfectly suited for that life. He does what he’s told. He says the right things. To them, I’m like…a live wire they are terrified of tripping. I’m better off not existing. Being invisible.”
Silence stretches out between us and I worry that I shared too much. Got too personal. I just admitted I don’t get emotional with blokes and here I am, gushing like a bloody water fountain.
Tanner reaches over and pulls me into his space, dropping his knees so I slide up his body and straddle his lap. My arms wrap around his neck as I try to hide the raw vulnerability that creeps up from a dark place inside of me that I don’t often visit. Ever since I met Indie and we started our Tequila Sunrise tradition, I don’t let my family hurt me anymore. I know life is so much bigger than the pretentious expectations they’d like me to uphold to help them get ahead. Saving lives, helping babies…That’s a way to really live life.
Tanner pushes a wet strand of hair off my face. “If your parents don’t see the incredible work you do, they are knobheads.”
I huff out a pathetic laugh and pin my eyes to his with determination, not wanting to come off weak. “I don’t need their approval anymore. I gave up on that a long time ago.”
He looks down, pondering that comment. “Still sucks, though.”
It does. In my heart of hearts, it actually really does hurt. I look outside, into the darkness all around us, staring up through the skylight for any sign of stars, anything to remind me that the world is bigger than my drama.
My words are quiet when I give voice to them again. “It was a relief when they quit expecting me to attend their events. To stop participating in the charade. I could never fit the mould they expected of me. Honestly, what I’m doing for you is the first time in years they’ve asked anything of me. It’s partly why I didn’t fight it more.” I look straight into Tanner’s eyes. “But do you know the worst part of it all?”
“What?” he asks, a seriousness to his face that lets me know he’s really listening.
“Even though I never want to attend another one of their parties for as long as I live, I still want to be invited.”
A tenderness washes over his face, and I hope to God he can’t tell that the drip falling down my cheek is a tear. I’m mortified by how much I’ve babbled and immediately wish I could reverse time and just shut the fuck up.
I wait for Tanner to crack some rude joke, make some snarky comment, or do something silly to lighten the mood. Instead, he grabs my face in his hands and strokes his thumbs down my cheeks. He tenderly tucks my dark tendrils behind my ears and angles his head to skim his mouth over mine.
His lips are soft and comforting at first. A light touch to show support and understanding. But his hands move slowly from my face to my back and neck as he wraps both of his arms around me into a hug so tight, my breath has to synchronise with his.
Our bodies are completely flush, not a sliver of space to be found while our lips never stop moving. He continues hugging me and kissing me, his tongue warm and lyrical as he maintains a complete hold over me. It’s as if he’s trying to squeeze the ache out of me and pass it from me to him.
We’re both panting when we break apart, overwhelmed by the emotional exchange of our embrace. Tanner’s eyes stay on mine as his hands dip under the water and he positions me over his erection. He quirks a brow in silent question. I grant permission, trusting that he wouldn’t ask if he didn’t think it was safe. He pulls me down over top of him. The water makes for a rough entry but once he’s in, I quiver with need. The intensity in his eyes and the raw, carnal ache he’s showing me is too much. I work myself against him, my breath heavy as he tucks further and further inside of me. I moan and throw my head back as my need becomes nearly unbearable.
“No, Belle. Eyes on me.” He pulls my face down to him. “I see you.”
I drop my chin and nod. Our gazes lock. We hold each other hostage as our bodies tense, our grip on each other biting as we become lost in some sort of alternate universe where our eyes turn into windows to our souls and reveal absolutely everything. I swear if his dick wasn’t inside me, the look in his eyes alone would be enough to send me over the edge.
We continue grinding against each other, his hips thrusting upward as he holds me in place above him. Warm waves lap between us with each pulse. My cries of pleasure echo off the walls like the riot of reflecting lights. When my climax nears, desperation takes over and I have to look away while I come or I might never survive this. I scream out his name and he drops his face to my chest, rolling his forehead over my heart. I clutch him to me, ringing my hands through his hair, riding the aftershocks of my intense orgasm. One so strong I swear I could be splitting in two.
“Belle.” Tanner’s voice is guttural, and I immediately feel the wet heat of him explode inside of me. I grab his face and look into his eyes. They are vacant with shock at first, then slam closed as he presses his forehead to mine. “Oh my God, Belle.” His voice is hoarse and disbelieving as he fights to catch his breath.
We hold each other, naked and panting, both coming back down from whatever universe we disappeared into for that brief moment in time. When he pulls back from me, I think he’s going to apologise, but all he does is kiss me. He kisses me and I think I hear him whisper “thank you.”
For what, I’m not really sure.
THE HOUR GLASS SHAPE OFa woman was made for one thing and one thing only. Spooning.
It’s nearly ten o’clock the next morning and I’ve been tucked in bed, holding onto Belle Ryan all night. I don’t think a woman’s body has ever felt this good pressed up against me. Maybe it’s because I’ve fucked her so many times now and it’s a completely new experience for me. Regardless, I’m enjoying it while it lasts.
I feel Belle begin to stir in my arms and I reflexively tighten my grip on her, my morning erection pressed up against her supple arse.
