His finger easily found the swell of her, circling until her hips reflected the rhythm. He swallowed her cries with a deep kiss as he slid two fingers inside her. She was tight and hot and everything he wanted. His thumb pressed against her clit, as he coaxed the pleasure from her. She cried out again, her thighs tightening around his arm as she soared toward the peak.
When she came it was glorious. Her body froze above him, her head tipping back, a long, low groan escaping from her lips. He held her with his free hand, the other still moving against her, heightening her pleasure. As she slowly coasted down from her high, he kissed her softly, wanting to remember this moment forever.
Her hand slid down his chest, her fingers feathering against his hard stomach. Reaching down, he captured her wrist and pulled it to his lips. “You don’t need to,” he said, his voice thick.
“You don’t want to…” She blinked at him, her eyelids still heavy with pleasure.
He looked around her bedroom. “I don’t have anything,” he said softly. “And when we make love I want us to be alone. Because I intend to make you scream very loud.”
She laughed. “So sure of yourself.”
“That’s what I like for you to think.”
She slid her hands down his body, her warm hand encircling him. He squeezed his eyes shut at the sudden shot of pleasure. “At least let me help with this,” she murmured in his ear.
He turned his head to capture her lips. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Her grasp was just right. Enough to make his toes curl and his breath shorten. And as her palm moved against him, in a rhythm as old as time, every thought in his brain flew away, replaced by her.
Always her.
No more fears. No more vulnerability. Just the rawness of the two of them together. And when she crawled down the bed, her warm lips stretching around him, enveloping him, there was a bright flash of whiteness behind his eyes. He surged inside her, and she took every drop. And damn if that didn’t make him want her even more.
Someone was screeching. No, not someone, something. It made her head pound, her eyes wincing as she opened them and tried to find the source of the piercing noise.
But instead of rolling onto the mattress, she felt warm, hard flesh beneath her. Tanner was still here. She smiled and poked him.
“Answer your damn phone.”
“Huh?” He sat up and looked around, his eyes wide with shock. His hair was messier than it had been last night, pointing every way except the direction it was supposed to.
“Your phone,” she said patiently, pointing to the cell poking out of his jeans pocket on the floor. “It’s ringing.”
“Who is it?”
Her lips twitched. “My mom. She wants to know why you defiled her daughter last night.”
“Because her daughter’s a damn temptress.” He reached out to grab the phone, bringing it close to his eyes. “It’s Becca.”
Van laughed. “Maybe she wants to know, too.”
He shook his head and accepted the call, putting the phone to his ear. “Wassup?”
“Your car’s blocking mine in. Where are you? Because I know you’re not in your room.” Her voice was loud, and Van could easily hear it.
Tanner’s eyes met hers, and he smiled. “Nowhere you need to know.”
“Did you hook up last night? Oh god, please tell me you’re not in bed with Chrissie Fairfax.”
Wasn’t that a metaphorical cold bucket of water? Van sat up in bed and gave him a rueful smile before reaching for her sleep shorts and tank.
“It’s none of your business. And there are a spare set of keys in my bedroom. Top drawer of the dresser.”
“I looked in there and couldn’t find them.” Van could almost hear the eyeroll in Becca’s voice. “So get your butt home and move your damn car before I lose my job.”
Van pulled on her pajamas and hugged her knees to her chest, watching as Tanner rolled his legs until he was sitting up on the mattress, his feet on the floor. “I’m on my way.”
“Thank you.” Becca sounded gratified. “And say hello to her, whoever she is. I expect I’ll hear all about it at Chairs on Friday.”
Van went pale. Tanner shook his head and ended the call, turning to look at her.
“That was Becca.”
“I know. I heard.”
He nodded. “I need to get home.”
“Yeah, you do. Before Becca toilet papers your room.”
The corner of his lip lifted. “Don’t say that. She’s probably already planning on it.” He reached for his t-shirt, pulling it over his head, then shuffled his legs into his jeans. “I’ll go home and shower, get a change of clothes, then I’ll be back to pick you up.” He glanced at his phone. “Give me an hour.”
“You’ll pick me up?” She tipped her head to the side. “Where are we going?”
“To the drive-in. We’ve got the construction team arriving this morning, remember? Then this afternoon we need to talk websites and publicity.”
“On a Saturday?” she asked, her eyebrow lifting.
“We’re on a tight schedule.” He shrugged, standing to button his jeans. “If that’s okay with you.”
She nodded. “It’s fine.” Her voice was soft. “I guess I need to shower, too. And make sure Zoe gets up okay.” Her eyes shifted from his. “And I’d rather she didn’t see you leave.” She took a deep breath, remembering Becca’s jibe. “Let’s not be the topic of conversation at Chairs this week.”
“I’ll climb out of your window like a ninja.” He winked, shoving his phone in his pocket.
“A really tall, loud ninja.”
He grinned and leaned forward to press his lips against hers. It was unexpected yet familiar. She kissed him back, trying to ignore the way he sent her heart racing.
“Be ready in an hour,” he said again, pulling away and opening her window, poised to climb out. “I’ll see you later, beautiful.”
Chapter Eighteen
Van, Age 17
“Did you finish that English assignment?” Tanner was leaning on the side of the wooden box office, his arms crossed over his muscled chest. He’d been playing more football this year and it showed. The coach made them train every night, but he’d still end up at her place as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, covered in mud, his body aching from all the exercise.
“Yeah.” She nodded. “I did it when the movie was on.” She lifted the sheafs of paper in front of her.
“One advantage of the movie going on forever.” He rolled his eyes and took her assignment from her. “How long are they gonna keep showing it? There’s only so many times I can bear watching DiCaprio die.”
Van’s lips twitched. “It’s a beautiful scene. He gives his life up for her.”
“There was enough room for both of them on the door. Nobody needed to die.” He glanced up at the screen. The credits were rolling. Cars were backing out of their spaces and slowly joining the line to get out of the field. “Can’t you persuade old man Chaplin to show something with more action? I’m sick of chick flicks.”