Page 19 of Broken Warrior
Holy moly.
Spider iskissingme.
He’s kissing me in a way I have never been kissed before.
Hard.
Searing.
Possessive.
He’s kissing me like he needs me, like I’m food and he’s been starving for years, like he needs the air in my lungs in order to breathe on his own, and I can’t do anything but whimper.
I have never in my life been kissed like this and lord help me, I don’t ever want him to stop.
CHAPTERFOUR
FIN
Fuck.
Fuck, she tastes good.
Better than I imagined, and considering Tate has been starring in every single fucking dream I’ve had since the second I laid eyes on her, that’s pretty goddamn impressive.
Sweet, so fucking sweet, like honey and berries with a touch of mint.
And Jesus, her lips? They’re soft and warm, pillowy and perfect. They mold to mine like they were made for me.
Tate let’s out a little whimper and fuck, it makes me groan. My fingers tighten in her hair, those plum-colored curls like silk against the rough calluses of my palms. I lick along the seam of her lips, trace the Cupid’s bow of her mouth and when she moans I push inside and devour her.
When I got home this morning after another bender to rival any before and saw Summer watching The Price is Right with my mother, I immediately went on the defense. Jackal and his girls know her, they have to because Jackal has known her his whole life so it’s not like having Summer here with Nadine is strange, and it helps if I’m in a pinch and need someone to come stay with her, but it wasn’t part of the plan today. Ultimately it’s not the end of the world that Summer was here but I don’t trust just anyone with her, for their safety more than Ma’s, and Tate has taken over where Shelley left off so I wasn’t expecting to see Summer.
It’s probably shitty of me to leave Tate in charge of my mother without asking, just assume and expect her to continue the responsibility she initially pushed for, and regardless of how big of a dick it makes me, I’d rather Tate be the one helping her when I’m gone. I trust her more than I can explain with words, more than I should after only a few months, and it puts me at ease knowing Tate is the one handling Ma while I’m out. So to walk in after almost twenty-four hours straight of using enough dope to kill a herd of elephants and see Summer on my couch, I was fucking pissed.
I didn’t take it out on Summer though. I just sent her home, let my mother finish her show, then waited for her to be disgusted enough by sharing space with me that she went to her room to read.
I searched Tate and James’s room then.
Yeah, that was way out of line and definitely uncalled for, but I did it and can’t take it back. Rage was a big factor but it also stemmed from concern. Concern that the bastard she’s running from finally found them. I had myself convinced Gino Valetti took Tate and James or that he made contact and scared her and forced her to run again, but there was nothing at all to indicate that shit had happened, so I tore up the rest of my house looking for anything I could find that might clue me in on what the fuck was going on.
Nothing.
There was nothing, not even a fucking note, and I went from pissed off to raving lunatic in two seconds flat.
I know I haven’t been very good to Tate lately, not bad, but I’ve been ignoring or avoiding her every chance I get and that is total bullshit, I know. I can’t help it though. After we talked a few weeks ago when Tate brought up getting a job so she could move out, it felt like a knife to the heart.
I know they can’t stay, know theyshouldn’tstay, but the problem with that is I want them to. I want Tate and James in my house, want them sharing my space. I want the family-style meals and one-on-one time with both of them. I want to protect them, keep them safe and cherish them, love them the way they deserve, but instead of simply telling Tate that I like having them around, I acted like an asshole when I realized how true that all was—the idea of losing them scares me, and I shut her out afterward.
And that’s exactly why I waited in the living room for them to come back, getting angrier and angrier as the seconds ticked by.
I know I can’t have them, but the thought of losing either one of them fucking terrified me.
When James came tearing into the house in search of me, something inside me softened. They were back, they were here, and he wanted to see me. It made me feel like I could lasso the stars, but I also felt like a royal cocksucker for being so mad.
Right up until I saw Tate anyway.
She looked hot as fuck when I came around the corner and that sent my anger right off the charts.
