Page 61 of Rootbound
“Sometimes when you ask things, I can see you pitying me, or thinking that I am oversimplifying my life by doing what I do here, Tait. The truth is, I’ve done my penance to myself for my choices, and while it’s simple work and a simple life, I love it here. I love doing work with my hands, in beautiful country, and I love my family and friends. I love that it’s not always the same.
“It’s not experiencing an ancient culture, a castle in Scotland or the Dolomites. But it’s my home, and I see you falling in love with it, too, Tait. Someone who’s seen so much—even you can still appreciate it here. You might not be ready to admit that, but I’ll be here when you are.”
It’s not thisplaceI’m falling for, I want to tell him.
“I’m sorry that happened to you, Henry. I’m sorry that people can be so shitty,” I say, instead.
“Do you think I’m pathetic for not pressing charges?” he asks after a pause, eyes searching again.
“I doubt I could ever find anything about you pathetic, Henry. But no, I definitely get it. I… Igavemy ex our house because I wanted to flee the scene,” I admit bitterly.
He smirks. “I guess you got taken forwaymore than I did, then.” He chuckles, and I move to slap his chest. His hand closes over mine, holding it there. He takes a deep breath before continuing.
“I wish you could see how you glow. How you brighten a room every time you enter it. I can’t imagine anyone, ever, losing sight of that with you. And I’m glad you’re here, and that you’re not wasting your time with anyone like I did. I hope… I hope you’ll continue to.”
And with that, I decide to waste no more time. I move in to kiss him, but he blows out a frustrated breath against my lips, cutting the kiss short. He plays with the ends of my hair as he stands, then walks to the other side of the table, smiling in the face of my frown.
At my puzzled expression, he says, “I think we both need to go ahead and eat and finish our drinks before we continue.” And it’s now that I can see the tension in his shoulders, his hands opening and closing on either side of his plate when he sits.
“We can eat and still sit by each other,” I say, and I wish I could take back the needy tone to it.
He smiles, taking a massive bite of a taco. He chews methodically, and when he swallows I wonder if anyone else has ever found an Adam’s apple so fucking sexy before. “You smell better than dinner, and I’d rather have you, Tait. So if youwant to eat, I think it’s best if I stay over here.”
And there it is. Because who are we fooling at this point but ourselves? I want him, and I plan to have him.
The New Basement Tapes are playing now, singing aboutwhen I get my hands on you…The rhythm plucks in time with the building, nervous desire pumping in my belly.
I breathe in through my nose and out, slowly picking up my drink, finishing it in three gulps before setting it down thoughtfully.
“I think we might need to take the edge off first, Henry.”
At that, he bolts up and kicks his chair back, and I follow a half second after. He stalks around the table, a predator covering the distance in three of his large strides, before we collide.
His hands grip under each of my ass cheeks and he lifts me, my legs wrapping around his hips at the same time that my hands fly to his hair, yanking his face to mine.
His lips and tongue crash into mine and it feels like I can finally breathe, despite him stealing my air. He makes a sound of relief when my hands fist against his scalp. When he separates an inch I bite his lower lip in protest. He hisses, then drags a ridiculously large palm up my side, sliding his thumb over my nipple through my dress, then into my hair to move my head and give him access to my neck. I catch his gaze when he looks down, falling forward a step. The slit in my dress has given way to one wholeleg, up to one whole needy part of me crudely exposed, and pressed to him.
“Tait, are you not wearing underwear?” His dilated pupils fly to mine, black.
“What does it look like?” I say, not recognizing my own voice.
A deep, choked sound—maybe a growl—falls from him.
“Fuck. I want to see you.” He swipes the vase off the table behind me and sends it flying, shattering against the nearby wall. I think I hear a small sound of alarm from Belle and hear her pad away as he leans us over, disentangling my limbs from him as he lays me on the table, and stands.
He looms over me, hair jutting out in different directions, lips swollen and wet, and I feel practically feral taking him in. I make no attempt to adjust my dress, knowing there’s no turning back now, especially as I notice the wet spot on his shirt.
No more thinking. No games right now. I part my knees and let him look his fill. His grip on my thighs tightens unbearably for a moment before his eyes find mine.
“God, look at you.”
“It’s Tait, actually, but feel free to worship all you’d like.” I gesture down the length of me, because I’m apparently incapable of not injecting humor at the worst times. He smiles, though, and I might just becomehiszealot in that moment instead.
“This dress makes you look like a present just for me, honey.” He slides his hands slowly up my thighs, up my ribcage, palming my breasts appreciatively once before meeting in between. He slides his splayed fingertips underthe edges of the fabric, eyes still locked with mine. “Can I unwrap you?”
“Yes, please.”
He slides the sides apart, those rough fingertips just barely grazing the tops of my breasts as he reveals them. He groans painfully, then floats that same light touch over my nipples. I’m panting at this point and biting my lip with the effort not to squirm.