Rough Love (Tannen Boys 1)

Soon, she starts fucking me back. It’s a match to a stick of dynamite, and we explode in a mass of writhing need. It’s messy, it’s loud, it’s wild. It’s everything.

Even in the chaos of fucking like animals, there’s more to it. An undercurrent flows through us, surrounding us. This is more than we had when we were young, more than I dreamed I’d ever have now, with Allyson or anyone. Even when we’re rough and filthy, it’s with love.

I love her. I know I do, and I always have.

The words are on the tip of my tongue, dying to be spoken into existence—shouted from rooftops and whispered in her ear, roared into the night and murmured on her skin—but not like this. I don’t want her to think I said it because we’re in the middle of having sex, and there’s still a real chance she’ll freak out on me, so I grit my teeth, clenching my jaw so hard I can feel the strain in the muscles of my neck.

“Come with me, please,” I beg her. I’m not ashamed of it. I want her to come on my cock, squeeze me with her velvet sugar walls as she coats me with cum at the same time I paint my name inside her with mine.

Her breath hitches, and I’m done for. I fly and fall all at the same time—into her, into bliss, into black nothingness. I fight to keep my eyes open even as they want to roll back in my head, closing in pleasure. But I need to see her, know that this is real and that she is mine. I can’t say the three words I want to yet, but with my dark eyes locked on her bright blue ones, I grunt out one word. “Allyson.”

It’s just her name, but there’s a deeper meaning and she knows it.

This is us. Only her and me.

I don’t know what happened with her ex, nor do I need to, to know that she didn’t have this with him. And I certainly haven’t felt anything remotely resembling how I feel for her.

I love her.

Chapter 26

Allyson

“Move! Move! Move! Clock’s a’ticking, mister!” I might as well be trying to hurry up a snail, or a sloth, with epic slow-mo skills.

“I am!” Cooper says back weakly. But he’s not moving. He’s got his head propped against his hand and the milk dribbling from his spoon back into his cereal bowl. He’s taking so long to eat that the cereal is probably mushy and soggy.

“First day of school! So exciting!” I’m trying here. I might as well be Mary Poppins mixed with Dora the Explorer with all the energy and singing I’m giving this boy.

He’s fine, really, ready for the next grade and in class with Liam, but it’s so early for him and he’s tired even though I bumped his bedtime back super early last night. Why does elementary school start at 7:30, anyway? I don’t even have to be at work that early.

“Checklist . . . hair brushed? Face and hands washed? Teeth brushed? Dressed to the shoes? Lunch in your backpack?” Cooper nods along with my questions, used to our morning routine even if it’s a little earlier than usual. “Okay, hop up and let’s do your first day of school picture by the front door.”

He gets up, and I sweep his bowl into the sink, filling it with water, which makes the soggy colorful circles float and bounce crazily. I’ll wash it later, I promise myself.

Cooper stands by the door, a fake smile on his mouth and his eyes looking vaguely similar to the vacant zombie gaze he had at the campout a few days ago. I clap and smile, so proud of how big he’s gotten even if he’s a grumpasaurus right now.

I hold my phone up, praying for an actual, real smile. “Knock, knock.”

Cooper rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. “Mom.”

“Knock. Knock.” I try again, finger at the ready.

“Who’s there?”

“Gladys.”

“That’s an old lady name. Do people even name their kids Gladys anymore? Glaaaaadiiiiiis.” He draws the name out, making it sound even weirder than the repetition.

I lift one brow, working my mom ‘check yourself’ look.

“Fine. Gladys who?”

“Aren’t you Gladys the first day of school?” I grin stupidly big at the bad joke and giggle a bit.

Cooper rolls his eyes again. That’s really getting to be a bad habit I’ll have to watch, but when I bounce my shoulders up and down a bit, playing the goofball a bit more, he caves and laughs.

Click. Click. And a burst of shots just to be sure I got both the smile and open eyes.

“Gotcha!” I give him a finger-gun point, though only with one hand since I’m still holding my phone. It’s still new and I’m a little overprotective. “Now let’s get you on the bus or I’m going to tell another joke.”