Handle Me. Kira Sinclair
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Van whispered mindless, garbled words, but his body recognized exactly what she was asking for.
Reaching between them, Ty found her clit and thrust deep, filling her as he stroked the swollen bundle of nerves.
Her body exploded. This time his name echoed off the wooden walls around them. A surge of satisfaction pounded through him as she clamped down around him. It was more than he could take.
Burying his face in her throat, Ty allowed his release, holding tight to her as a storm raged through him. He thrust hard, drawing out the pleasure as long as he could, selfishly savoring every last drop.
Collapsing to the floor, Ty didn’t notice they were lying on plywood covered with a blanket. He didn’t care that he could hear the faint sounds of people leaving the house, car engines firing.
The only thing that mattered was Van in his arms. He tangled their legs together, tucked her head against his chest and grabbed the other blanket, wrapping it around them.
She didn’t protest. Instead, she curled into him, letting her body melt against his.
Happiness and pain mixed together in his chest. The story of his life. Nothing good ever happened without being accompanied by a kick in the gut.
Van was silent, but not distant. She didn’t pull away. Tonight, he’d take small favors wherever he could get them.
His hand stroked the soft fall of her hair, tangling in the strands as they slipped between his fingers.
“I should probably go back inside, be there to say goodbye to everyone.”
He could tell by her tone that she didn’t really want to. And he didn’t blame her. All day he’d wanted nothing more than to run away from this place...at least, until an hour ago.
“Why bother?”
“Because my parents need me there. Because it’s what I should do.”
“Says who?”
“Every etiquette manual in existence.”
“No one would blame you for disappearing. No one will fault you for needing an escape.”
“But I shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be right.”
Ty shifted, tipping her head back so he could look into her eyes. “No one expects you to do the right thing all the time.”
“I expect it.”
He shook his head. “You’ve always put too much pressure on yourself. Just once, let yourself do something unexpected.”
Her mouth quirked up on one side, not quite a smile. “Pretty sure that’s what we just did.”
Her gaze slipped away from his, focusing on something over his shoulder. He wanted to draw her back. Every instinct inside him yelled that if he wanted anything further this was the moment to push.
But he couldn’t.
As much as it hurt, Ty knew exactly what tonight had been. It wasn’t like he didn’t have plenty of experience carrying around pain, hiding it so no one else could see.
Shifting to get more comfortable, Ty tightened his hold on her. “Go to sleep. In the morning you can blame me for your disappearance. Everyone will believe I was drunk off my ass—” like mother, like son “—and you had to pour me into bed.”
Her body stiffened, but after a few seconds she relaxed, a sigh slipping through her parted lips.
It didn’t take five minutes for her breathing to even out and her body to go limp against his. The floor felt hard against his back, but it wasn’t the first time he’d slept on something uncomfortable.
Ty’s arms tightened around Van. He tipped his head back, found the sky through the window in the wall beside them and squeezed his eyes shut.
Just one more thing you’re going to have to forgive me for, buddy. But, I’m going to be honest—I don’t regret a damn moment.
* * *
SAVANNAH GROANED. Her entire body hurt. Her brain felt fuzzy and slow. God, would she never learn that sleeping on the tiny cots in the hospital’s on-call room was a bad idea?
Shifting, her hand grazed something cold and plastic. A groan rolled through her chest as memory slammed home. She wasn’t at the hospital. This pain was all self-inflicted. Though it was fuzzy, she could remember knocking back whiskey from a bottle she’d swiped from Ty.
Van’s eyes popped open.
Ty.
Oh, shit.
Van rolled onto her side and pushed against the hard plywood floor. Her stomach bubbled unhappily. The walls around her wavered.
But a creaking sound filtered through her misery.
For the first time, she realized she was alone. And she hadn’t fallen asleep that way.
The sky was mostly gray through the large window, with fingers of pink and orange just starting to streak across. Van crawled over and used the ledge to lever herself up—just in time to see Ty, his shirt hanging from the pocket of his slacks, shoes dangling from his fingers, sneaking across her parents’ lawn toward the back gate.
She should be grateful he was walking away so she wouldn’t have to face him.
But she wasn’t.
Hurt, anger and indignation slammed through her, causing her sick stomach to roil even more.
God, she would never drink again.
Part of her wanted to go after him. To yell at him, for leaving, for making her feel amazing last night, for dragging her brother into a situation that had ended up killing him. For letting her get drunk and then taking advantage of her.
She wanted to blame Ty Colson for every single thing that was wrong with her life.
But she couldn’t.
Last night, she might have been drunk and reckless, but Ty hadn’t pushed. He hadn’t done anything she didn’t want. As much as she wanted to paint the man as an asshole, she knew him well enough to realize that if she’d said no at any point, he would have stopped.
Instead, she’d begged him for more.
Oh, God. Van sank back down onto her haunches and dropped her head between her knees. Sucking huge gulps of air through her nose, she willed her stomach to settle.
She would not throw up. She would not throw up.
This was better.
Ty had given her something last night that she’d desperately needed. Solace, laughter, release. A chance to forget, even if only for a few moments.
The