42. Taylor

Taylor

A three-ring circus elephant is stomping around my head. At least, that's what it feels like.

The pounding is so bad I can feel it behind my eyes, against my eardrums. Is Christian blasting his music again? Groaning, I try to turn over but flinch when a burn scorches through my throat. Fuck, why does that hurt so bad?

A hand tightens around mine as I slowly try to open my eyes. They feel swollen and gritty like sandpaper. Bright light hits my corneas, sending shooting pain through my temples, and I hiss as I lift an arm to block it out. There's a horrible taste in my mouth, my tongue drier than the Sahara. A wound on my bottom lip splits and starts to bleed.

"Hey, easy. You're okay," whispers the voice I constantly dream about, "don't hurt yourself."

Blinking rapidly to relieve my eyeballs, I turn my head to take in the man sitting next to me. Huckslee gazes down, his dark eyes glittering with concern as his brows crease. A stray curl falls over his forehead, the rest of his hair looking wild as if he's been running a hand through it. Or someone else has...

The thought makes me cringe.

"What happened?" Wincing at the roughness in my voice, I eye the small tubes taped to my arm and the curtain surrounding us.

"I found you passed out in your truck with an empty liquor bottle, and you weren't responding," he answers accusingly, holding on tight when I try to pull my hand free from his. "I thought you had alcohol poisoning. They needed to give you fluids. Baby, what were you thinking? What happened?"

Baby .

I yank my hand away, feeling a painful twist in my chest. As I open my mouth to tell him what I saw, a nurse pulls back the curtain, interrupting us.

"Mr. Tottman, it's good to see you awake," he says with a smile, oblivious to the chaos in my head. "How are you feeling?"

Like my heart just got thrown in a blender.

"Fantastic," I snap, avoiding Huckslee's gaze as the nurse chuckles and nods.

"Oh, I bet. Let me just get your vitals real quick. As long as everything looks fine, we'll get these tubes out, and you can be on your way."

The entire time he checks me over, I keep my eyes down. When he's satisfied, the nurse removes the tubes and wraps my arm with a strip of gauze. It isn't until he leaves to get my discharge papers that I finally look Huck in the eye and hate what I see. He looks absolutely gutted .

"Why are you here?" I rasp, touching my tender lip as his jaw tightens.

"I could ask you the same thing."

His response pulls an almost manic laugh out of me. "Wanted to drive up and surprise you. Didn't mean to ruin your date."

"Date? What do you mean?"

"With Greg." My lips twist as I glance away, hating myself for throwing away two years of sobriety, for turning into him again.

Huck's eyes nearly bug out of his skull as he sputters momentarily. "What the fuck are you talking about, Taylor? I wasn't on a date. Greg asked me to meet him so that we could talk. I broke up with him through text on the plane in January, and he needed some closure. That's all."

"Please don't," I whisper, fisting the sheets at my sides. "Don't lie to me. Give me that courtesy, at least. I saw the kiss."

His lips part, and I catch the flash of guilt that crosses his face. "It...that wasn't what you think, I swear–"

"You smiled , Huckslee. Afterwards. I watched you smile."

"Baby. You have this all wrong." He pinches the bridge of his nose, lids sliding shut. "He asked for a goodbye kiss and I thought he meant on the cheek. I didn't know he would go for the lips, though I should have. And after, I smiled because–"

The nurse returns with my release papers before he can get another word out.

"Alrighty-roo, you're all set." Nurse dude smiles impatiently, clearly wanting us to hurry for bed space. "Do you need a wheelchair? "

"I'm good." Swinging my legs to the floor, I fight the nausea as I try to stand. Huck reaches out to wrap his arm around my waist, and despite the shredded feeling inside my chest, I let him steady me. Every nerve lights up at his touch, goosebumps spreading across my flesh, the intoxicating scent of his aftershave surrounding me in a cocoon of warmth. I cling to him shamelessly as we hobble out. My feet grow more stable the further we go, and by the time we reach a shiny Audi, I'm walking on my own.

Sliding into the passenger seat, I scrunch my nose at the new car smell and pull my seatbelt on as Huck gets behind the wheel.

"You can probably drop me off at my truck," I tell him, honestly feeling better since they pumped me full of electrolytes. Still obviously buzzed, but I can at least sleep in the cab until tomorrow morning.

"Shut up, Taylor," Huckslee snaps through his teeth, putting the vehicle in reverse. "Just shut up."

I shoot him a glare. "Look, I appreciate you helping me, but I'm fine now. Seriously. You can go back to your boyfriend."

He exhales sharply as he merges onto a freeway. " You're my boyfriend."

"Not according to Pretty Boy Shawn, I'm not."

"I swear to God, if you say another word, I'll pull over and stuff you in my trunk."

I'm not even gonna analyze why my dick jumps at that threat.

We're supposed to be mad at him, motherfucker , I think, seething down at my crotch as Huck takes an exit onto some quiet, empty road. I don't know where he's taking me, but I'm clear-headed enough to know it's not back to the frat house. We drive silently for a while, and I lean against the window, taking in the moonlit coast, feeling like my insides have been scooped clean. A pit of self-loathing yawns within, consuming me. Why the fuck did I grab that bottle? Why did I turn into my dad again? If Christian or Salem had been here, this never would have happened.

Eventually, he pulls into a suburban neighborhood, the streets lined with cute houses that all look the same, with terracotta shingled roofs and palm trees in the front yards. The homes become older and further apart as we drive until Huck pulls into the driveway of a ranch-style rambler at the end of the road, parking under a carport before shutting off the engine.

"Where are we?" I ask, peering out into the dark and grimacing at a grease mark on the window from my hair.

"My grandparents'."

Without another word, he exits the car, slamming the door before going over to a back gate, where he disappears. For a minute, I contemplate sitting here in solidarity because I'm mad at him, but then the Audi begins to honk as he locks and unlocks it with his key fob, clearly demanding I follow. And, of course, I do because the scent of the fresh leather seats only makes my headache worse, and I hate the silence. Plus, my phone is missing, so that sucks.

Slamming my own door with a huff, I make my way through the gate into the backyard, squinting my tired eyes at the sight of a large in-ground pool glowing a soft hue of blue. Fairy lights twinkle above, lining the yard from a covered back porch to the roof of a guest house where Huckslee stands waiting .

"In," he commands, pointing to a set of French doors, his delicious jaw set firmly.

Muttering under my breath, I brush past him inside. He's close behind, flicking on a switch as he shuts the doors, and the sudden flood of light makes me hiss as I squeeze my eyes shut. It takes a second for the sharp pain in my temples to dissipate, but when my lids peel open, I slowly take in the room we're standing in.

A soft-looking queen bed with a wrought-iron headboard sits against the far wall, flanked by two nightstands. To the left is a desk piled with boxes, and to the right sits a mirrored dresser holding a flatscreen. An ornate rug covers the tiled floor, and shelves line the walls with various books and figurines I remember from his room at our parents' house.

"This is where I stayed during the summer and weekends when I wasn't in school," Huck explains softly, kicking a cardboard box out of the way as he walks toward an adjoining bathroom. "I've been moving shit back and forth from the apartment all day. Come on."

My eyes fall to the swell of his ass while I watch him walk away, those hard muscles flexing in his tight jeans, and I follow him with a scowl. Why? Out of all the men I could have been attracted to, it had to be Huckslee Davis. Honestly, I don't know if my heart can take it anymore. It feels like a dirty rag that's been used and wrung out too many times.

He stands above a jetted tub and turns on the shower, testing the temperature with his back to me. "Take off your clothes."

His bossiness has my cock perking up, but I cross my arms. "No. You don't get to tell me what to do after today. "

"Taylor." The low timbre of his voice and the dangerous undertone send a shiver through me. "Undress, or so help me, I'll rip that hospital gown off you myself."

The what? Oh, yeah.

I frown down at myself, examining the light blue smock covering me over my jeans. Where the hell did my tank top go? How wasted was I? Fuck, I hate this side of myself. I vowed two years ago that I'd never be here again, yet here I am. Falling right back into old habits. Because I'll never be anything but my father's kid. Bad genes all around.

Gentle fingers brush the bottom of my chin, tilting my face up to meet Huckslee's concerned gaze. "Baby, please. Let me take care of you, and then we can talk."

Goddamn, the way he makes me melt when he begs. I'm so deep in it for him that I'd give him anything he asks for, even if it hurts me. Even if it kills me.

He turns me around to face the double-vanity sink, his eyes holding mine in the mirror as he unties the gown, letting it drop away. Then his shirt comes off, and the warmth from his bare chest seeps into my back. Wordlessly, he opens the cabinet and hands me a toothbrush and a tube of paste, watching me as I scrub my teeth and rinse.

When I'm finished, his arms encircle my waist, undoing my jeans as he trails kisses along the side of my throat, burning my flesh when I remember where those lips were earlier. Still, I tilt my head to the side, giving him easier access when he slowly slides my pants and briefs down until they fall to the floor. My hard cock springs up to slap against my lower abs, hard and aching to be touched .

"So fucking beautiful," Huck murmurs, his own stiff length resting against my crease beneath his jeans. I press back into him, his hands roaming everywhere on my body except where I need them.

Gripping the edge of the counter, my hips rock back and forth as his teeth sink into the sensitive junction between my shoulder and neck, pulling a whimper from me, our gazes still locked. I missed the feel of him, even if it had only been a week. Even if he didn't miss me.

Each sweep of his fingers on my skin sends a shock wave of heat to my balls, precum leaking from my swollen tip when I turn my head to claim his mouth. His nails scrape across a nipple as he licks into me, our tongues fighting for control, the wet sounds of our kisses and heavy moans mixing with the shower running behind us. When I can't stand it anymore, I wrap my hand around my cock to pump myself, but he grabs my wrist and stops me.

"Shower." His teeth nip at my earlobe. "Now."

Fuck me, but I love when he tells me what to do.

Pushing my bottom lip out, I obey, smirking when his eyes darken. Hot water cascades down my body as I step beneath the spray, eliciting a deep groan at how good it feels against my sore muscles. Huck steps in behind me, as nude as I am, massaging my shoulders and expertly digging those magic thumbs into my tendons and ligaments. The ice that had built up around my heart chips a little.

He leans forward to grab a bottle of shampoo off the shelf, his cock sliding against my ass, and his free hand holds my hip in place when I try to rub against him, jerking myself.

"Stop moving, Taylor. Put both hands on the wall. "

"Fuck off." I stroke even faster, balls painfully heavy as I flex my ass cheeks, squeezing his length between them.

With a muttered curse, he sets down the shampoo before wrenching my arms behind my back, careful not to hurt my collarbone.

"You're such a brat." He licks at the water on my neck. "You want me to fuck you, baby?"

"Yes. Please?" I'm humping the air like a slut, desperate to come, and he hums into my skin.

"Then be good and do what I say. Let me wash you, and if you behave, you'll get what you want." He leans me forward, taking my hands until my palms are flat against the tile. "Do. Not. Move."

Over the next five minutes, he tortures me, cleaning every inch of my body, from my hair down to my toes. Kneeling behind me, he spends extra time stroking my cock while his thumb rubs teasing circles around my hole. He presses the tip inside of me, smiling against my lower back when a choked moan leaves my throat, and then he's standing to rinse me off. When he turns me around, I meet his mouth with a heated kiss, needing to feel his tongue on mine, sucking on it greedily while I grab the body wash and flip open the cap. Pulling back, he lifts a brow in question as I flash him a wicked grin.

"My turn."

And I return the favor, washing him like he did for me. When I get to his dick, I line it up with mine, whipping us both into a lust-fueled frenzy as we devour each other, whimpers and groans echoing off the shower walls. Pressing my back against the tile, he lifts one of my legs, setting my foot on the lip of the tub. Two soapy fingers tease my sac before massaging my hole, and then he slips them inside of me.

"Oh, fuck," I breathe, nipping at his throat when he's seated up to his knuckles. He pulls them out before sliding back in, fingering me slowly.

"God, you're perfect."

Biting down onto his skin when he hits my prostate, I pump us faster, feeling tears prick my closed eyes at his praise. I want to believe it, to believe him. But the image of his lips on someone else and that fucking smile still burns my mind like a brand, so all I can do is cling to him while he stretches me so deliciously, my cock throbbing for relief. Removing his fingers, he turns me back around, rinsing off the soap before grabbing a bottle of lube on the shelf. Generously coating his length, he bends me forward and positions himself at my entrance.

"Breathe out."

My lips part right as he presses into me, the burn so good, his hard cock filling me until the sting morphs into pleasure.

"Why do you always feel amazing?" He groans, thrusting into me, emphasizing every word with each punch of his hips. "Every. Single. Time."

"Mmfuck, right there." My eyes roll back as he pegs that spot inside of me that makes my legs shake and my dick leak. "Please, Huck, don't stop."

"Christ, I want to be inside of you constantly. You're the only one who makes me feel like this, do you understand? Only you."

Pounding into me, he reaches around to slap my hand away from my shaft so that he can jerk me himself, teeth marking my shoulder, flooding all of my senses .

"Tell me you're listening," he pleads desperately. "Say it for me, baby. There's only you."

But I'm too wrecked to speak. Everything is Huckslee, in the relentless way he fucks my ass, coaxing me closer to orgasm with his cock and his fist. In the euphoric pain of his bite, skin sliding against skin as he moans my name, the scent of sex mingling with the body wash we just used. When he shoves his fingers inside my mouth and commands me to suck, it's all over.

I come hard, nails digging into the back of his neck where I'm holding him, my strangled cries reverberating as my cum shoots onto his hand and the wall. He follows shortly after, spilling inside of me, fingers digging into my hip with bruising force.

"Mm, the way you feel when you come on my cock." His thrusts slow as he works himself through his orgasm, nuzzling into my neck, and if it wasn't for his strong arms holding me up, I'd be a puddle on the floor, swirling down the drain.

He holds me for a long while, our breaths growing steady. The shower water has grown lukewarm but feels good as it cools my heated skin. Huck's fingers gently grip my jaw, turning my face up to capture a sloppy kiss. When he pulls back, his starry eyes hold mine intently.

"I meant what I said, Tay. There's no one for me but you. Nobody I want but you."

I lick my lips, still heartsick and feeling like a petty bitch. "Did you say the same thing to Greg, too?"

His forehead falls to my shoulder as he releases a ragged breath. "You're so fucking stubborn. What must I do to make you believe me, baby?"

I already do. Huckslee is many things, but a liar isn't one of them. It's that smile afterwards that's tearing me up.

Pressing between my shoulder blades, he pushes me forward and drops to his knees, palming my ass cheeks to spread them wide. "Stay still."

"What are you doing?" I gasp, looking at him over my shoulder as he gazes at his release dripping out of me in rapt fascination.

"Something I've never done for anyone."

Warm breath hits me first, and the minute his tongue flicks out to run over my hole, I jerk forward on reflex.

"Huck, you don't have to– oh , fuck, goddamn."

His tongue enters me, cutting off my words as he swirls it around, lapping at the cum he just filled me with moments ago. The act is so filthy that my cock swells again, growing heavy with each lick. My head tilts forward to rest against the wall, soft whimpers leaving my throat from the sensation of him. Gripping my length, I stroke myself lazily, still hypersensitive, and it only takes a few pumps before I'm coming again, moaning his name when I spill over.

As soon as he stands, I spin around, throwing my arms around him as I crush my lips to his, not even caring where his mouth had just been. His cock presses between us, and I wrap my hand around it, our tastes mixing on his tongue as it dances with mine, melding our very molecules until every part of him makes up every part of me. He fucks my fist, chasing his own second release. By the time we're clean again and out of the shower, I can't believe I ever let my insecurities make me doubt his love for me .

Because he does love me. I can feel it in the way he dries me off, careful not to rub the towel too harshly because I have sensitive skin. I can feel it in the way he dresses me in his clothes, his eyes darkening possessively at the sight of his football jersey on my body.

When he tucks me into his bed, he puts on the Sci-Fi channel because he knows how much it calms me, holding me close while I doze off until our food delivery arrives. He ordered my favorite without even asking, a smothered chili verde burrito, even though I always complain that it's never as good as Christian's mom's cooking.

"We still need to talk," he whispers against my hair when we're curled up after eating.

I nod into his chest. "Tomorrow."

For now, I just want this bubble of bliss—the feel of his warmth beneath me, his steady heartbeat in my ear. I want to pretend that tonight is our normal.

Because tomorrow, I'll have to face the fact that I made a huge mistake.

The next morning, I wake up slowly to fingers trailing down my spine.

Sometime in the night, I must have gotten hot and taken off Huck's jersey because it's cradled in my arms under my chin. Soft blankets are coiled around my feet, a strong leg thrown over mine, and I nestle back contentedly into the warm chest against my back.

"You should check your phone," Huck says groggily, continuing his exploration of my back. "It's been buzzing like crazy since I plugged it in last night."

"I was wondering where it went." Cracking open an eye, I spot it on the nightstand and reach over to read the notifications. There are about a dozen missed calls and texts from Logan, Salem, and Christian. Guilt renders me fully awake as I type out quick responses, assuring them that I'm fine and that I'll call them soon.

Then I steal a deep breath before facing the man I love.

His dark eyes are bright and clear, searching my face as he wraps an arm around my waist, tugging me closer. For a moment, we just gaze at one another, breathing in each other's air. A stray curl falls over his brow, and I reach up to coil my finger around it, biting my lip.

"What happened to my shirt?"

"You threw up all over it. And Greg."

I can't help the smug smirk that stretches my lips. "Serves the asshole right for kissing you."

"That asshole helped me save you last night," Huck argues. "Crawled into your truck to unlock it so that you didn't drown in your own puke."

"I..." Well, shit. I really am a fucking asshole. Grabbing his hand, I raise his battered knuckles up between us. "Did you do this trying to get to me?"

He nods and brushes a thumb over the wound on my lip. "You do this when you saw me last night?"

My lack of response is enough of an answer .

"Why didn't you just talk to me, Tay?" There's pain in his voice as he gently palms my throat. "You made it clear that we can figure shit out together, but you were so quick to believe the worst..."

"I know, I know ." Squeezing my eyes shut, I cover my face and exhale into my palms. "I just...it was that smile. After everything we've been through, all the shit I've done, I never got that smile. It made me jealous. And I've never done this before."

"Dated exclusively."

"Yeah. I don't like other men touching you. And I handled it all wrong."

He's silent for a moment before his fingers pry my hands away from my face, forcing me to meet his steady gaze. "Greg said he could see how different I was right after he kissed me. How much happier I'd become, and the reason is you, baby. That's why I smiled. Because you've made me happier in the last few months than I've felt in years. I was smiling because I was thinking of you."

Emotion clogs my throat as I shake my head. "I don't deserve you. Sometimes I think you're too good for me." At the stiffening of his body, I move in quickly to press our lips together. "But I'm selfish and never want to let you go. So you're stuck with me."

He sighs softly into my mouth before pulling back with a severe look. "You drank last night, Taylor. Downed a whole bottle of rum."

"It's..." Swallowing hard, I glance away in shame. "It's not the first time it's happened. I struggled a lot with staying sober after my dad died and fell off the wagon a bunch. It's why Christian and I moved in together two years ago. Before then, I lived in my dad's old trailer by myself. Having someone around helps me stay accountable."

"But you work at a bar?" His brows jump up, and I laugh.

"Yeah, with Christian . Everything I do is with him. Or Salem. They keep me straight." A snort leaves my nostrils as I grin. "Okay, maybe not straight , but you get what I'm saying."

He rolls his eyes but pulls me in for a deep kiss. "I'm glad they have your back like that. After the childhood you had, you deserve people in your corner."

"But what about you?" I ask breathlessly, breaking away from his lips and fighting the urge to rut my hard cock against him. "Who's in your corner, baby? Have you talked to Logan?"

"No, but I don't want to talk about that." He nuzzles into my neck, running his tongue along my tattoo like he loves to do. "Right now, we're discussing you and how you drove out here alone without telling me."

"As a surprise. And I wasn't alone the whole time. I picked up a drifter at one point."

Inhaling sharply, he rears back to grip my jaw. "You did fucking not."

"Did so. His name was Don, he was pretty cool. Used to own a petting zoo down in Florida, but his wife took it in the divorce along with the house and kids."

"I don't know whether you're joking or not." His eyes dart between mine, and when I smile innocently, he rolls over with a growl, pulling me on top of him. "Seriously, Taylor, he could have been a serial killer!"

His thick length presses against me as I roll my hips, loving the way he feels beneath me. "In my defense, I was left unsupervised. You can blame Christian for that. The whole thing was his idea."

"Oh, I'll have words with him when we get home." He cups the back of my neck, prompting me to lean forward so that our lips collide, and then we're moving against each other, his cock rubbing along mine as he fucks into my mouth with his tongue. We do this for a long while, panting and groaning as we kiss each other dizzy, and then Huck suddenly grips my hair roughly, yanking my head back so that his teeth graze my throat.

"Next time something like this happens, when you feel like drinking, you come talk to me," he demands, placing his free hand over the outline on my heart. "Delaware doesn't just apply to our texts and the track, it's our whole fucking lives. Understand?"

"Yes." My own palms run down the hard planes of his chest, nails scraping his nipples. "I will. I promise."

I'll promise anything as long as he keeps touching me like this.

Humming in approval, he releases my hair and tugs down the waistband of the sweats he dressed me in, freeing my cock. "Now fuck my face like you're still mad at me, baby."

And so I do.

Gripping the rungs of the headboard, I slam into his throat until I'm spilling on his tongue, leaning down so that he can kiss my cum into my mouth. It's becoming one of my favorite things that he does. Then after, we strip ourselves bare before he grabs a bottle of lube from the nightstand, and I sink down onto his cock, riding him while he guides me by the hips. My second release coats his chest and abs when he hits my prostate just right, and I swipe my fingers through the mess, bringing them to his lips so that he can lick them clean.

After he pumps me so full it's dripping around his length, I collapse onto him, and he holds me while our bodies are still joined. Another favorite thing of mine that he does. Like he doesn't want to lose our connection just yet. We lay like that for a bit, the stickiness drying between us as he rubs my back. I'm so worn out between the drive yesterday, the drinking, and the sex that I don't even protest when he reaches over into his nightstand and produces the butt plug I'd worn on the camping trip.

"Stay still," he murmurs as if I could even move, and he uses his arm to lift me off of him before replacing his cock with the silicone plug. "You're going to spend the rest of the day filled with my cum, since, apparently, I need to remind you that you're mine."

All I can do is quietly hum and nuzzle into him, loving the possessive tone of his voice and the feel of a part of him still inside of me. I'm almost passed out again when his palm gently smacks my ass.

"Come on, baby, we need to get up and shower."

A whine leaves my throat as I wrap myself tighter around him like an octopus. "Why? So comfy. So tired."

"Because I want to do something else with you that I've never done with anyone," he chuckles into my hair, and I look up at him suspiciously.

"Like what?"

A slow smile lights his face as he kisses me softly. "I want to introduce you to my grandparents."