"That's it," he murmured against my collarbone. His mouth was hot on my skin, lips and teeth dragging along the base of my throat while his hand worked my breast and his hips met mine on every downstroke. "You feel incredible. Better than I remembered."
"Oh, God." My whimpers were more than just pleasure. I remembered him too, and I remembered being so devastated when he pushed me away. So devastated, in fact, that I kept every other man at arm's length, turned down dates, threw flowers and chocolates away and told myself the whole time that it was because of Kip. But it wasn't. I'd gotten hurt so bad I couldn't trust another man, and the only one I ever wanted I knew I'd never have.
Now here he was saying all the right things, and it felt too good to be true.
"Every night for four years." He caught my earlobe between his teeth and tugged, and the sharp little sting of it sent a current straight down through my belly. "Every single night, Sara. I thought of you and wanted you?—"
I cupped the back of his head and kissed him hard, swallowing whatever he was going to say next. His tongue met mine and his hands dropped to grab the backs of my thighs, pulling me tighter against his body. The new angle pressed my clit against his pelvis with every stroke and I gasped into his mouth and broke the kiss because I couldn't breathe and move at the same time.
"Right there," I whispered. "Don't move, just let me?—"
He held still and I ground against him, chasing the pressure with small tight circles that had my whole body winding up. His jaw was clenched and I could feel him twitching inside me, fighting to hold back while I used him exactly the way I needed to.
"Sara, I can't hold this much longer." His voice was rough and strained and his fingers were digging into my thighs hard enough to leave marks. "You need to get there."
"I'm so close."
"Oh, God… Oh, my God in heaven," he groaned, and I felt him throbbing, pulsing inside me as my body clamped down.
His whole body went rigid underneath me and he pulled me down flush against him and held me there while he came with a groan that started deep in his chest and tore out of him in a way that I felt in my bones. His arms wrapped around my back and crushed me against his chest while he buried his face in my hair and shook, and I plunged into a second orgasm, stronger than the first.
My core clenched on him hard while I whimpered into his neck and shuddered in his arms. My hips pumped, and my core throbbed as my eyes rolled back in my head and a slew of curses tore from my lips. It was incredible, better than any orgasm I'd had since the last one he'd given to me, though they were few and far between and one hundred percent all self-made.
Garret's arms stayed around me and my face stayed pressed against his neck and we breathed together until our pulses came down and the cool night air started to register on my bare skin. I could feel him softening inside me and I shifted my weight but didn't pull away because the second I did, real life was going to come rushing back in and I wasn't ready for it.
But the tears came anyway, and he felt them. I knew he did because his hand moved up to the back of my head and his fingers slid into my hair.
"Hey," he said so gently. "Talk to me." Garret wasn't a "talk to me" sort of guy. He hated talking about emotions, and he'd pushed me a way a few times when I got too emotional. So to hear him coaxing the words out of me was another stab in the chest. If only he'd have done this four years ago. Now I had a secret I could never tell him and a mountain of heartbreak to sort through.
"I was angry at you for a long time." I pulled back enough to look at him and let him see my face, as I mopped the tears with my fingers. "When you pushed me away, it broke something in me. I spent months trying to get over you and figure out what the heck I did wrong."
"You didn't do anything wrong. I was the one who couldn't get out of my own way." He wiped a tear off my cheek with histhumb and left his hand there, cupping the side of my face. "You left because I broke your heart?"
Tony's threat was as real today as it was four years ago, but I couldn't lie to Garret, so I tactfully left out a few things.
"Partly," I said, already regretting having this talk. "I mean, it hurt and yeah, I was mad, but I needed something different. Maybe it's why I pushed you to make a commitment. I wasn't happy anyway. And Dan and Andrew were doing so well. I skipped town, but I honestly wanted a change."
"So you stopped racing?"
"I stopped competing, but I manage their crew now." I swiped at my face and backed away, carefully positioning myself so his cum drained onto the step and not his pants as his dick slipped out of me. Garret acted like he never noticed the shift, but he didn't let go.
"That's impressive, Sara." He pushed some hair behind my ear, but my own inability to be honest with him put a wall up. I wanted comfort I couldn’t ask for because if I told him the truth he'd be hurt.
So I pulled away from him and reached for my jeans and underwear, working them back up my legs while he put himself together. Then I sat back down on the step and slipped my feet into my flats.
"Garret, if my dad comes out of this and finds out you've been hanging around his family, he'll have another stroke."
We both chuckled, but it faded quickly. The truth underneath the joke was too heavy, and we both knew the odds of Dad coming out of this at all were getting worse by the day. It left asour taste on my tongue too, joking about something so morbid. I knew better than to cause my family stress when we were already surrounded by facts that crippled us.
The rumble came from the south end of town as a pack of bikes turned onto the main road and headed north past the diner. The interruption was probably a good thing. I knew we both had a lot to say, but I had no clue how to say my part without telling him everything I knew I couldn't. Tony would kill me for opening up about the real reason I skipped town, and Garret would be so angry I kept his son from him—even though it was for his own good.
Garret stood up from the step and everything about him changed. His posture straightened, his shoulders squared, and the softness that'd been in his face got tucked away behind rigid posture and a hard glare. It was the code. When his brothers rode, he rode.
"I have to go," he said.
"I know."
He looked down at me and said, "I'm not finished with this, Sara. You and me, we need to sit down and have a serious talk about things."
