Skin Dive (41 page)

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Authors: Ava Gray

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Skin Dive
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Astonishment curled through her as they pulled up outside the club where she’d taken him, what seemed so long ago now. It was still early, so the twenty-somethings and college students hadn’t shown up yet. Taye parked the bike, waited for her to slide off, and then he laced his fingers through hers. She followed him with a furrowed brow.
Inside, it was even weirder. Based on the time and day of the week, Gillie expected a nearly empty establishment. Instead, the place was packed, standing-room only, and the karaoke stage was set up . . . only it wasn’t Thursday. Taye led her through the crowd to a table down front, which bore the placard “Reserved VIP.” As soon as she sat down, he vaulted onto the stage, conferred briefly with the guy running the equipment, and then took the mic.
“This song’s for the woman I love.”
Without preamble, he launched into the hammiest rendition of “All Out of Love” that she’d ever heard. Ever. And he was
terrible
. The raw husky quality that made his voice so sexy when he spoke translated painfully in a musical sense. No tone. No pitch. At first, she didn’t understand why the hell he thought this would help his case. And then she remembered; he’d said this was where he drew the line. It was the one thing he would never, ever do for her.
Yet he was doing it. And
so
badly that the audience hooted and threw things. A few people got out lighters to mock him, and still he sang on, dogged in his determination.
“You suck!”
Taye ignored them; she could tell he saw only her. He cared about only what she thought. And she listened to the words of the song, heard the apology. It was awful—and perfect.
When he finished at last, Gillie stood and applauded. She was the only one.
“Sorry for the deception, folks. There will be free beer, on me, for the next half hour.” That won a thunderous ovation from the disgruntled audience, and most of them rushed the bar.
“What the hell did you tell them?”
“I posted flyers all over campus that Fall Out Boy was playing a surprise gig here tonight.”
“Shit. Did you
want
to be humiliated?”
“Yes,” he said.
Well, hell. How am I supposed to stay mad at him?
“Taye—”
Panic flared in his face. “No. Not yet. This was our first stop, not the best.”
He thought I was going to tell him we’re done.
Tenderness flooded her. No, she didn’t trust him entirely, but she believed he loved her. And she was capable of forgiveness. Nobody always got it right, but they could try—and do better each time. But she wouldn’t let him off the hook until he showed her this last thing.
“Okay.” She drew out the word on a sigh, as if she were reluctant instead of madly curious.
Taye stopped at the bar to drop some bills for the beer and then they went out. Dark had fallen, just fringes of crimson and gold above the horizon. She lost track of the twists and turns with her head against his back. Though it was terrifying, the motorcycle was also rather thrilling, the way it hummed between her thighs. That pretty much encapsulated the way she felt about him, most days—a little scary, but too good to stop.
This time, he parked outside an old building built of pale cement and white stone facing, though it was dirty and crumbling—seedy neighborhood, broken glass, and graffiti. She wasn’t entirely sure why he’d brought her here. He wheeled the bike toward the doors.
Yeah. Probably smart not to leave it out here.
“What’re we doing?” she asked.
“Shh.”
Shock coursed through her when Taye unlocked the front doors. The foyer glowed, adorned with strands of tiny white Christmas lights, and there was a table set for two with a picnic basket and a manila envelope. He leaned the motorcycle against the wall and secured the door behind them.
“Do you want to eat first or do you want to see your surprise?”
“What do you think?”
In answer, he went for the envelope. His gaze was meltingly tender as he handed it over. No explanations. So she unsealed it and drew out a sheaf of papers. By candlelight, she read them over with a dawning sense of wonder. They were IRS documents and zoning permissions, all related to the Flynn Foundation, a homeless shelter to be established on these premises.
That’s where he went when he left the hospital. That was what he was doing.
“It’s an old hotel,” he said softly. “Should renovate nicely. I had just enough from the severance package to buy the property. We’ll need a board of directors, and to work on donations for the annual budget. But I’ve registered at WSU for courses in business management, nonprofit focus. I figure by the time we both have our degrees, this place will be ready for us to run it.”
A sob burst out of her, completely uncontrollable. She wasn’t pretty when she cried, but she couldn’t stop it. Tears ran down her cheeks and she buried her face in her hands rather than look at him. It was perfect, just like that stupid song. He knelt before her and wrapped his arms around her, murmuring into her hair, but he didn’t try to stop the noise or staunch her outburst.
Like always, he understood.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“I hate you a little, also.”
“I know that, too.”
“Can’t believe you did this for me.”
“I’d do anything for you.” And she knew he meant it. “Even before you healed me, you gave my life back, a reason for living. I adore you. I worship you. I love you beyond reason.”
Maybe it should be scary to be the center of someone’s world like that, but she needed it. She’d never had it. Gillie hugged him tightly around the neck, rubbing her damp cheek against his. He prickled slightly—and that was Taye. He turned his head and his lips met hers; she tasted her own tears and a hint of fresh sweetness, as if he’d sucked a peppermint. A shudder of reaction worked through her as he deepened the kiss, threading his fingers into her hair.
Long moments later, she broke away, breathing hard. “You knew I wouldn’t be able to resist all of this. You know me too well.”
“I hoped,” he admitted. “You were starting to scare me.”
“Good. You
deserve
it. I still kind of want to stab you.”
His eyes were grave. “You can if you want.”
“I might, when you least expect it. But don’t worry . . . I’ll heal you afterward, if I do.”
Taye grinned, tacitly agreeing to her terms.
Impossible to stay mad at him.
Gillie kissed him again and again, all over his face. Tamped longing swelled within her, adding urgency to her touch. He responded in kind and wrapped his arms around her.
“If you keep touching me like this, I may not want dinner,” she warned.
“Fuck dinner.” He swept her into his arms and carried her into the next room, where the cagey bastard had set up an air mattress and surrounded it in a sea of candles.
“You were sure of yourself.”
“Not really. But it’s best to be prepared.”
“I always wanted my own boy scout.”
“You got him.” As he lay her down on the mattress, he nuzzled her throat with slow, languid kisses. “Tell me you had a new Depo shot.”
“I did.”
“Who were you planning to sleep with?” The jealousy in his tone delighted her.
“I have a thing for my psych professor.”
His jaw dropped, and she laughed softly. Taye shook his head. “As I’ve said before, you’re a wicked, wicked woman, Gillie Flynn.”
“I know. Make love to me?”
His reply came when he worked the T-shirt over her head and then he unfastened his jeans. Gillie tugged his clothes off, and flung them well beyond the circle of candles. The scent of orange cleaner lingered in her nostrils, along with the burning vanilla wax. He must’ve spent so much time here, getting this surprise ready. He’d wanted her to know how serious he was about their future.
They kissed endlessly, tongues touching in hot, sweet little licks. He edged her backward until he hung above her, propped on his arms. Taye had almost as many scars as she did—a matched set. He still didn’t remember anything about his life, and that was fine with her.
“My name is Tyler,” he said, surprising her. “Tyler Golden. I’ve done time.”
She didn’t miss a beat. “Me, too. Twelve years. But we’re both free now.”
With a little growl, he pressed his mouth to her shoulder, giving a mock-fierce bite. She fell back on the pillows he’d so thoughtfully provided and opened her arms. Her whole body ached for him, her cunny already slick. It seemed as if it had been so long.
“I’d prefer you to call me Taye, but all my IDs will be in my real name.”
“How did you find out?”
“The bounty hunter tracked me down. Took prints in our apartment in Detroit.” At her astonishment, he smiled. “Told you he was good.”
“Do you have family?”
“I guess. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to see them. I’m sure I was a mess before I fell off the grid.”
“It’s okay. You’ll always have me.”
“Thank God,” he murmured.
Taye licked and nuzzled down to her breast. Damp heat and fluttering caresses feathered around her aureole. She sank her hands into his hair with a moan. He teased her like that for what felt like forever, until at last he took her nipple into his mouth and gave the fierce suction she craved. Gillie arched, breath coming in unsteady gasps, but he showed no mercy; he just changed sides—more teasing, until she twisted on the bed—mad with the desire for him to move lower.
He stopped.
“You bastard.”
“I want to watch you come. If you knew how many times I’ve fantasized about the way you looked . . .”
She knew what he meant: a deserted house, Truth or Dare, a bottle of wine, a ladder-back chair. In retrospect she didn’t know whether to be proud or embarrassed . . . maybe a little of both. Gillie glanced at his cock. He was so hard, throbbing, with a hint of fluid on the crown, and he shivered at the look.
“Yes,” she said huskily. “I’ve gotten pretty good at it.”
Heat flushed through her as he slid down, settling in between her thighs to watch the show. She eased up slightly, letting the pillows take her weight. Her clit hummed but she didn’t go right for it. Instead she ran her thumb between her labia, taking pleasure in how wet he’d gotten her. Taye made a hungry sound against her thigh.
“That’s it. Touch yourself.” His lips moved on her skin, phantom kisses that sparked her excitement higher.
Up and down, lazy sweeps, and each time, she eased closer to her clitoris. He licked the curve of her inner thigh, just below the crease where it met her ass. Gillie moaned, the need for orgasm building tension. He sat up to watch as she went to work with two fingers; the sight made him hiss as she strummed her body, knowing just how to get there—and fast. She jerked and came and he lowered his head to lick up her juice.
Before she could calm down, he was on her—in her, his whole body shaking. Taye kissed her, and she tasted herself. Tart-sweet, intimate. His tongue took hers, tangled, as he thrust repeatedly, no finesse, just need. Love. Lust. Gillie wrapped her arms around him and then her legs, tilting her hips for deeper penetration.
So good. So right.
She whispered to him, demand and endearments, urging him faster with her heels against his ass. They shook together, and he growled when he came, teeth clenched, but he never took his eyes off her face.
Afterward, she held him and smoothed his sweat-slick skin, brushing back the chestnut hair, kissing his eyelids and his ears, everything she could reach. The scent of citrus and bergamot mingled with the vanilla candles, creating a pleasant haze. Gillie curled into him with a contented sigh.
“Still want to stab me?” he asked softly.
“I think I’ll let you stab me instead.”
“Thought I just did. Love you so, Gillie-girl. You’re everything,” he said, as he had once before, long ago, but this time, his tone held only happiness.
“I know,” she said. “I’ve always known. Took
you
a while to figure it out, though. Some people are meant to be together. Sometimes things happen exactly as they must.”
“I’m slow, but adorable. My wife will be the brains of the operation.”
“. . . Wife?”
He pushed up on one elbow. “Well, yeah. Someday. That wasn’t a proposal. I’ll do it right when the time comes.”
Could hearts explode with joy? She hoped not. Maybe she’d take him to meet her parents and make him ask her father’s permission when they were ready to take that step.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“I’m counting on it.”
Then Taye rolled her beneath him and showed her exactly how much he adored her. Again.
Yeah.
Sometimes things worked out exactly as they should.

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