Breathe Again (5 page)

“Shut up, Lucas.” I rolled my eyes and tried to think of anything that would extinguish the heat flooding my body. I couldn’t allow my sexual cravings for Tate to overcome the emotional needs I longed for.

Lucas grabbed my hand and we maneuvered ourselves through the crowd, heading towards the familiar table that had become ours. My lips curved into a smile at the sense of comfort this table provided. This was the place where I’d had my first argument with Tate, where I had joked around with Jack and Lucas, and where Tanzi and I had shared each other’s inner most feelings and fears.

“The memories I have of this table are insane!” I chuckled, pulling out a seat and collapsing in a heap. All heads turned to me and I felt three sets of eyes latch on to my boobs that were spilling out of my top. “Seriously, guys, are you going to be checking out my boobs for the next four months? Tanzi, I know you are jealous of the girls.”

“Your boobs are fucking insane,” Jack howled before receiving a punch in the shoulder by Tanzi. “If knocking up a chick gets me this, then shit, I should have knocked you up a year ago, Tanzi.”

My laughter filtered through the air. The inappropriateness of Jack was what made me love him even more. Tanzi collapsed onto Jack’s lap across from me and he whispered something in her ear, something I could only guess was sex related by the look Tanzi got in her eye.

Lucas sat beside me, and the feeling that someone was missing hit me. Instinctively and desperately, my head spun around and my eyes darted through the bar in search of Tate. I was quickly losing control of my body and actions. I was heading into dangerous territory.

“He went to get drinks,” Lucas said beside me. My embarrassment rose from my neck and took over my face. I was still
THAT
girl when it came to Tate. “When are you going to speak to him? I know for a fact that he wants to talk to you, but he is giving you time.” He paused. “Fuck it. I’m just going to say it out loud. You realize that he didn’t do anything with Chelsea, right?”

“Did you just say bitch face’s name?” Tanzi snorted from across the table, her eyes suddenly overcome with a mixture of anger and intoxication.

“I know he didn’t do anything,”

It was true. I knew he would never cheat on me, but the moment I had seen that fucked-up video and the moment I had been surrounded by Chelsea and her spiteful words, I had been thrown back to face the insecurities I had been battling since Cory cheated on me. I should never have sent Tate away, but the fear and the uncertainty had overcome me.

“Well what the fuck are you doing here? Go and tell him!” Tanzi shrieked and started clapping excitedly. My eyes found my best friends and they glowed with excitement.

Nodding in agreement, I stood from the chair, my eyes darting around every corner of Red Velvet in search of Tate. If I was going to do this, I needed to do it now before my confidence ran for the hills. My heart rate increased as my eyes landed on him slumped against the main bar, talking to a regular of Red Velvet. I maneuvered my way through the bar, apologizing as I bumped into people. Regulars stopped me and offered their congratulations, but my eyes remained firmly locked on Tate’s back.

As I stood behind him, my memories flashed back to when I had first told him I was pregnant and finding him slumped over at this very bar after drinking himself into oblivion at the thought of becoming his dad. The feelings were still so raw. I placed my hand on his back and felt him stiffen under my touch.

“Tate, it’s me.”

He swung around and faced me. He eyes scanned over my face as fear swam in his eyes, a fear I could only assume was about what I was about to say to him. Whether I would be ending our relationship for good or whether we could move past the atrocity of Chelsea. My heart jumped in my chest. It was all on me now. I was holding our future in the palm of my hands.

“Sav, I didn’t do anything. I would never touch her. That video was filmed—without my consent, I might fucking add—months and months ago. Before you. Why would I cheat on you? I’m drunk, Sav, but I’m not lying to you. I’d never lie to you.” Tate took a step towards me with eyes firing with truth.

“I know, Tate.”

“Well why didn’t you trust me? Why didn’t you tell her to fuck off? Why didn’t you hold my hand and tell me that you believed me?”

“Tate, it’s easier said than done. We both have history. We both have insecurities. I couldn’t handle being bombarded like that. She had a video. The images of her fucking you are constantly on my mind. I can’t forget that, no matter how hard I try.”

“I am sick of talking about that fucking video,” he barked. “I am sick of allowing her to control us.”

“Well what do you want me to do? Forget what I saw? Forget that you fucked her?”

“What about you, Savannah? You’ve fucked around. Why is it so different that I have? What makes me so different to you? I’ve fucked a lot of pussy and you’ve fucked a lot of dick.”

“Uhhh, guys? You might want to take this somewhere private.”

Both Tate and I swung around to find a sheepish Jack standing with his hands in his pockets, swaying slightly on his feet from the effects of alcohol. My eyes darted around the bar to find a small group of revelers now witnessing the dissolution of Tate and Savannah.

“Come with me,” Tate grabbed my hand pulling me through the bar towards his office, not giving me any chance to retract my hand from his. He swung open the door and ushered me in, slamming the door behind us and shutting out the noise of Red Velvet.

I tore away from him and looked around the office. He had completely refurbished it. There wasn’t a single thing that looked the same. A new, larger mahogany desk filled up the main space. An off-white leather couch was pushed along the far wall, bright red cushions splattered on it. There were new polished floorboards below my feet and the walls were now a deep red.

“You renovated?” I walked through his office, my fingertips running along the top of the desk.

What the hell?
I stopped suddenly as my eyes trained in on the photo frame that was sitting on his desk right beside his opened laptop. A photo of Tate and me was looking back at me. In the photo, Tate and I had happiness oozing off us. He was standing behind me with his arms wrapped around me, resting on my stomach. I knew exactly when the photo had been taken. It was the day that we had officially told people about Jellybean, and there in my hand in the photo was the ultrasound picture. Tate had called this photo our first-ever family photo.

“I got rid of the past.”

I spun around and looked at him as the anger from earlier quickly returned. “You mean you got rid of all the furniture you fucked other chicks on.”

Tate’s hand shot out and grasped my arm tightly, spinning me around so I was flush hard against his rigid body. If I thought he was pissed before, now he was about ready to explode. His eyes glared bottom-of-the-ocean blue at me while his jaw clenched tight.

“Seriously, Savannah? Is this how our relationship is going to be? Are we constantly going to discuss who has fucked whom? You want to know my number? Is that what this is about? I’ve fucked a lot—a shitload, actually.” He dropped his face dangerously close to mine, his breath tickling my lips as he spoke. “But there is one major difference between you and them, Savannah. You are the only one I’ve made love to. The only one. Not even Candice got that. It’s you, Sav. We fuck each other senseless but we also make love, and that’s what is important to me. I don’t want to keep going around on a roller coaster with you. Yes, I fucked Chelsea, and yes, she filmed it, but it was before you. Way before you.”

My head spun dangerously out of control and my eyes became fuzzy as I realized that I wasn’t breathing. Tate’s words tumbled around my head, colliding with every thought and emotion I’d had jammed in there since that fateful day in New York City. I gasped deeply, begging for air to fill my empty lungs. There was absolutely no denying his love for me. His heart and soul were a on a platter for me, available for me and me only.

He had changed everything he once had been for me. His past was his past, and mine was no better than his. I had been a slut—there was no denying it. I had fucked for therapy. I had fucked for relief, desperate for a few minutes away from my tumultuous memories. But now, love was helping me more than I could ever have dreamed of, and the man in front of me my second chance.

“I fucking hate that bitch.”

“So do I, but can we just not talk about her? All I can think about right now is bending you over that desk and christening it.”

“I’m not just going to jump right back into fucking you, Tate,” I groaned, trying desperately to hide the smile begging to shine. I clenched my legs tightly together, silently pleading with my body not to come undone. The smirk that spread over his face was a clear indication that he didn’t believe a single word I was saying.

“Wanna make love then?” he asked with a sly grin.

“If I’m not fucking you, then I’m certainly not making love to you.”

“Really? Well that’s not what your flushed cheeks, jagged breathing, and increased heartbeat say.” He placed his hand directly over my heart, and I knew for a fact that it was thumping dangerously hard. His eyes flashed over my face and dropped to take in my heaving chest against his hand. “Let me make you forget her. Let me fuck the memories of her and me out of your head. You and I need to take up every space in your pretty mind.”

What the hell was he trying to do to me? Every inch of my body was alight for him. My heart was defrosting for him. And as he looked at me with hooded eyes full of devotion and anticipation, I knew this was it. This was my choice. He was giving me this moment, one last chance to move forward, make a future together, and laugh in the face of the past or throw our relationship into the hot pits of hell for the world to no longer include Tate and Savannah.

For two months, I fought emotions I’d never known existed and every thought I’d suffered was desperately trying to derail everything that was Tate and Sav. This whole situation could have been stopped if I had just been confident in our relationship. We were in this fucked-up situation because of my insecurities, yet here he was, standing before me, giving me the potential of having his entire world.

“Tate,” I breathlessly and painfully said.

“Yes, Savannah?” His breath tickled my lips as he hovered closely to me. One measly step was all I needed to take to be chest to chest with him.

“I’m so sorry. I should never have asked you to leave. I was scared. I thought it was—”

My words were swallowed the moment Tate crashed into me. Within seconds, my ability to choke out any words of retraction was taken and I was pushed against the edge of his desk, my jeans swiftly removed at the impatient hands of Tate Connors.

Holy fuck. My body was on fire. Never had I ever felt this turned on. My body hummed and begged for him, craved him. With lips of want, he attached himself to my neck, sucking and nipping my sensitive skin, and my moans soon filled the empty space of the room. My head fell back and I leaned back on my elbows as pleasure swarmed my body.

“This is us, Savannah. You and me—no one else has this.” His voice vibrated with promise and certainty against my throat.

It was true. There was no one like him. There would never be anyone like him. I shifted my body under his, allowing my hands to run over his broad shoulders and move their way to his hair. Roughly pulling on the back of his head, I forced his mouth to mine. For a brief moment, I hesitated, my breathing heavy, broken, and deep.

His breathing was increasing with want and his eyes hooded with mine. Dropping his forehead to mine, he whispered, “What do you want from me, Sav?”

What did I want from him? I wanted him inside me. I inched my face forward, allowing my tongue to trace his perfectly plump bottom lip. Under my soft touch, his eyes hooded and fluttered shut. He was beautiful and completely at my mercy. Sucking his bottom lip into my mouth, I bit down softly, and as if I’d turned on a light switch, my Tate was back. His tongue invaded my mouth, sweeping through, tasting everything I was. Our tongues danced together feverishly, needing and in pure ownership. I needed air, but I wouldn’t break.

Tate’s hand ran up the length of my thigh, stopping dangerously close to where I craved him most. My panties were saturated and I knew they had been for a while. I wanted them off. I felt the air move as he ran his hand up my thighs before lifting his hand and placing it on my hip, missing my desire. I paused and groaned in pain. I was aching.

“Tate, please,” I moaned, lifting my hips from the desk and pushing myself against him. He stilled, his hips rocking painstakingly close, allowing his cock to grind against my panties.

“What do you want, Sav? You said no fucking. You said no making love.”

“Fingers,” I begged.

“That would mean I was fucking you. You said no fucking. That means no fingers, no mouth, no cock.” He continued to tease and grind himself devastatingly close to my now throbbing and hungry pussy, and my eyes rolled into the back of my head as a symphony of moans escaped me. The sound of his heavy breathing and the feeling of his heavy cock against me made me feel as if I were swinging like a pendulum on the brink of crashing into a deep sea of pure ecstasy.

“Fuck me, Tate. Make me forget her. Make me think only of us.” My eyes shot open to find him looking at me with eyes of intention and lust.

His hands swept down my hips, his fingertips sliding in the elastic of my panties and, with rushed fingers, moving them down my now sweaty thighs. He took a step back to take a moment to admire my new body.

“You are so sexy.” His voice was hoarse and full of need.

His hands snapped open his fly, and within seconds, Tate stepped out of his pants and prowled towards me. His eyes never left mine. My hands, full of intention and want, grabbed him, caressed him, squeezed him the just the way I knew he liked. He knew every pleasure point of my body just as well as I knew his. That’s what made him mine. I knew him. I owned him. I loved him.

My fingertip swirled on the tip; massaging the drop of liquid showing he was ready for me. I lifted my fingertip to my mouth and swirled my tongue, tasting him. The rumble that escaped the back of his throat penetrated deep within me, and my body clenched with excited anticipation.