The Space Between Us, page 9
“That’s how it is with medicine. And with all the good things in life, I guess. Like us.”
I laugh a little. “Yeah. You definitely jumped in with both feet.”
“I don’t do things half-assed, baby. I’m whole-assed or nothing at all.” Care slips long, cool fingers under my worn nightshirt, drawing her fingertips along my collarbone. She places her lips against my ear, her breath warm on my skin. A familiar heat starts in my core, a few sparks at first and then brighter, hotter, more insistent. I close my eyes and lean back against her long, elegant limbs, savoring the touch of her skin against mine.
“I thought I was crazy all those months. I couldn’t get you out of my head.” I moan softly and bring my hand on top of hers, a sliver of worn fabric between our fingers.
“It took me a while to realize what I wanted.”
“I’m glad you did.”
Care touches my cheek, tracing fingers across my jawline, sending a tingle down from the top of my spine. “I think I’m realizing what I want, more and more all the time. And it keeps being you.”
“Cheesy.”
She whirls me around in my chair. “Admit it. You like it.” Her fingers snake beneath my shirt, pulling it up over my head and tossing it to the ground.
“I’m working,” I murmur.
“You need a break.”
“Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?”
“I think you know.”
Carrington lifts my bra over my head, and I feel like putty in her hands, melting into her as her lips brush over my neck, as she pulls me to stand and slips her hand down the back of my well worn boxers. “You look good just like this,” she whispers. “Better than when you’re working. And it might make you feel more productive if you had an appropriate distraction.”
Her lips touch mine ever so lightly, pulling my lower lip between her teeth. She bites gently and I kiss her back, letting our breath linger, our tongues touching. It’s sweet and slow and filthy, not rushed and frantic like we were that first night. She pulls me up and leads me to her bedroom, where we both sleep now (should we be looking for another roommate—who doesn’t mind that—we’re a little loud?). I shove the thought away and focus on Care, the roots of her hair bright blond, little wisps of it falling over her face, her eyes ocean blue, intense, hooded with desire.
“What do you want, baby?”
“Anything with you,” I tease, leaning into her and kissing those lovely, full lips. “Anything at all with you.”
She laughs, wrapping her arms tight around me as we fall to the bed together. The sheets are cool and soft against my skin as she strips away my ratty old shirt and well worn boxers. I’ve never been with someone I didn’t try to impress with clothes or makeup or some false, put-on personality. Carrington is different. She sees me—and I think she always has—and she thinks I’m beautiful even in the dregs of my not-so-splendid wardrobe.
She pulls her own shirt over her head and shimmies out of her jeans, somehow still keeping her body glued to mine, skin-to-skin. She kisses along the line of my neck, down to my breasts, taking one nipple in her mouth and then the other. I whimper, arching my back, my body pliant and needy beneath her touch.
“What if we use something extra today? I’m just feeling… a little bit devious.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re always a little bit devious. And—I always like what you have in mind.”
Her fingers travel down the length of my body, over the curve of my stomach and lower still to the warm thatch between my legs. She strokes me, her thumb rubbing over my clit, her fingers slipping easily between my slick folds, opening me like a blossom beneath the sun. My hips arch up, and I reach up to kiss her again, our tongues touching as she fucks me, slow and gentle, with two fingers and then a third.
“Carrington,” I murmur. My mind tips over into the world of pleasure she gives me, thoughts and images floating.
“You like that—”
“Right there—” I moan, shameless and bearing down against her touch, pleasure building and rippling through me in waves as her speed increases, as she guides me through my climax. I shudder against her, pulling her down and pressing my lips to hers hungrily. “Now what was it you had in mind?”
Carrington opens the bottom drawer of her nightstand, pulling out her favorite harness—light blue leather and her favorite dildo—firm but pliant, and bright blue to match the tone of the leather.
“Mm,” I hum, “I do like your thinking. And you always like to match.” I giggle, and Carrington smiles.
“Let me—” she whispers, lifting my legs and slipping the soft leather over my skin.
“Oh yeah? So it’s one of those days…” The base of the dildo sits secure over my mound, the leather tight around my hips and ass.
“Mm hmm, it sure is. Definitely having one of those days where I need my girlfriend to fuck me?”
“Girlfriend… well, I never—that’s so formal—and you’re not a formal person—”
She shrugs. “I need to introduce you as something. ‘Hey here’s my roommate—we fuck and we watch TV together’ doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.”
“Pretty accurate,” I say, still lying back on the bed.
Care is just looking at me with all the desire in her eyes, all the things I ever wanted the first time I laid eyes on her. “Goddamn. You are a beautiful woman.”
I can’t help but give her a huge grin in return. “Yeah, well, get over here, let me get my hands on you—I’m not just for looking at—”
Care drapes her lovely, long body over mine, and I let my hands travel over her silk-soft skin, taking in the simple delight of touching someone so stunning, so kind, so deeply human and so present with me in this moment. Her breath hitches in her throat as I cup her full breasts, brushing my fingers over her nipples. They go stiff under my touch, a soft pink flush rising from her chest to her face. She looks like a goddess, sitting above me, her back resting against the dildo. In one smooth—or relatively smooth—motion, I pull her down and roll on top of her, pinning her arms above her head and kissing over her face, her soft hair, her eyebrows and the tiniest touch of her lips. She tastes good, sweet and salty beneath my tongue. I want to devour every drop of her, to take her in and never let her go. My fingers travel between her legs, moving over her satin folds. I kiss my way down her body, taking in the scent of her, the very Carrington-ness of her existence, the thing that feels like an anchor in the very heart of me.
“I thought you were going to fuck me—”
“Definitely,” I say, kissing the inside of her thigh, “but first—” I let my tongue move over the texture of her skin and down to her mound, her legs open, welcoming, ready. I kiss her there, drawing her clit into my mouth gently, drinking in the sound of her soft sighs and moans and the needy requests for more more more and oh I think I’m—
I cut her off and climb back over her body, pushing the dildo between her legs and watching her face as I press inside of her, slippery and slick and easy. Her hips arch up to meet mine. Lips parted, face flushed, she’s the picture of pleasure. I move inside of her, slow at first, and then faster as her legs wrap around me, falling into the rhythm I’ve managed to adopt when we do this, when she wants me this way. (And always, always, I give just as she wants.)
“Alex,” she whispers, sighing my name over and over. I drive into her harder now because I know it’s what she needs. My muscles are tight and working, and even in my concentration, I feel the lightning heat in my core as she begins to cry out, as she shakes and moans and cums against me and I collapse against her. She’s breathing heavily, but her lips still find mine, her tongue touching mine, lazy and languid this time. I undo the harness and toss it aside for now—I’d rather not take the energy to get up and do anything other than hold her right here.
Care pulls me into her, our bodies pressed tight and hot against each other. Despite the chill of the day, I feel warmed to the very core. I close my eyes and press my lips to her soft cheek.
“Alex?”
“Hm? More grand pronouncements?”
“Maybe a little,” Care says. She tangles her fingers in my hair.
I open my eyes and look into hers. Startling azure, clear and bright. “Yeah? Well, what?”
She laughs. “I love you. That’s all.”
Heat rises in my cheeks, and something inside my sternum twists, coiling tight and joyful. “I love you, too.”
Carrington draws me closer, her hand pressed against the small of my back. “Good. It feels real with you, you know. Like so good, I didn’t know it could feel that way.”
“I think I know what you mean,” I murmur. I press my lips to her’s, and I’m content for the first time in years. “I just never saw this coming.”
“The surprises in life are the things that change us, Alex.” She shrugs. “I’m just glad this one finally happened.”
She leans in and kisses me lightly, closing the space between us, her arms wrapped tight around me.
About the Author
For an exclusive, FREE story, subscribe to Tatum West’s mailing list:
Subscribe to the Tatum West newsletter here.
* * *
Read the rest of the Bridge to Abingdon series right here:
tiny.cc/smokinggunn: Cole and Jamie’s Story
tiny.cc/golddigger: Liam and Grayson’s Story
tiny.cc/silverfoxbook: Fox and Nikki’s Story
tiny.cc/chasemehome: Elias and Zane’s Story
tiny.cc/afightingchance: Jack and Dillon’s Story
tiny.cc/steelemyheart: Gil and Kendall’s Story
tiny.cc/nobleandstrong: Noble and Connor’s Story
* * *
And check out my brand new series right here! DC Pride is everything you want a city to be…
Will and Jesse’s Story: http://tiny.cc/proudbook
Find me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authortatumwest/
* * *
Join my awesome Facebook group… The Tatum West Unicorns!
* * *
Follow me on Goodreads too.
* * *
Like free MM romance? Join my ARC team. Get a FREE copy of every Tatum West book BEFORE it goes live!
* * *
Follow me on Pinterest too!
* * *
~~~
* * *
The Authors:
* * *
Beau Lake is a queer author writing LGBTQIA romance. She lives in Virginia with her partner, two kids, and three dogs.
* * *
E-mail all inquiries to AuthorBeauLake@gmail.com.
***
* * *
Tatum West is a writer and lover of LGBT romance. She grew up queer in a straight world. She’s now a mom of two, a dog-mom of one, and she’s working hard to raise kids who know that love is love and see the magic and depth of all human interactions. She crochets, crafts, and creates. She’s so glad she gets to write for a living and make characters who speak to her soul.
Tatum hails from Virginia and went to camp every summer near Abingdon. The Abingdon of the Bridge to Abingdon is a fictionalized version of many small towns, all thrown together and rolled up into one. The men of the town are the ideals created by her heart and mind, all on their paths to true love.
Look for the rest of my books on Amazon.
The print and kindle editions are all available on my author page.
You can find more information at www.tatumwest.com.
Tatum West, The Space Between Us
