Darren’s anger finally faded, and we all fell into a simple rhythm. Mom and Darren took turns asking Tara and me questions about our lives. We answered but didn’t speak to each other much. I knew Tara was still thinking about our kiss, and so was I. It was impossible not to when our feet kept brushing against each other under the table.
We finished dinner and Mom cleared the table. Darren sat awkwardly, looking between Tara and me as if he was trying to catch us in a lie. I recognized the look on his face from ten years ago, and just like then, I wanted to slap it away. Instead, I sat back and closed my eyes, relaxing my leg and enjoying the rare moment of silence.
“Cards?” Mom asked when she came back to the table.
I groaned, but she shot me a look. I quickly smiled and pretended to be excited. The game helped ease the tension, and soon, we were all laughing and having a fun time. By the time Mom and Darren were ready to leave, things felt somewhat normal again. That is until Darren eyed Tara dangerously as he left through the front door.
“He doesn’t want us alone,” I said with a chuckle. “After all these years, he still doesn’t trust us.”
“Can you blame him?” Tara asked. “How many times did you sneak into my room when we were teenagers?”
“Only as often as you snuck into mine,” I said.
She grinned, and my eyes flickered to her lips. Now that we were alone, the electricity between us was stronger than ever. I took a step forward, desperate to feel her body pressed against mine. That kiss hadn’t been enough. I needed more. I needed all of her.
Tara cleared her throat and stepped around me. She hurried into the living room and dropped onto the couch. My dick was throbbing in my jeans, and I groaned to myself. This woman was going to kill me before the night was over.
“Maybe we should watch a movie,” Tara suggested.
“Sure,” I said. I stumbled over to the couch and sat down beside her. She grabbed the remote and flipped through my Netflix account until she found something to watch.
I barely registered what she put on. My mind was too focused on her leg just inches away from my own. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt, her long legs begging for my fingers. I tried not to stare, but I couldn’t help myself. I trailed my eyes up her thighs, lingering between her legs. I wanted so badly to rip those shorts off her and taste her sweet pussy.
When we were teenagers, we did everything but fuck. We played around. We teased each other. I fingered her. She blew me. We danced around the big event for so long that eventually, we missed our chance.
“I hated watching Tyler hit on you,” I said. “I wanted to fucking kill him.”
“Why?” Tara asked, her eyes meeting mine. There was a tenderness in her eyes I hadn’t seen in ten years. “Why did you care?”
“I’ll always care,” I said honestly. “I can’t stand the thought of someone else touching you. I swear, every time I see Tyler now, I’m going to daydream about breaking his damn fingers.”
“Your jealousy is still hot,” Tara said, her voice low and full of lust.
“Glad you think so.”
Our lips were on each other before either of us could say another word. I grabbed her roughly, forgetting about my injury altogether. She kicked her leg over my lap and straddled me, kissing me with so much passion I thought we both might catch fire.
I gripped her hips when she started to grind against me, making my cock beg to be released from the confines of my jeans. My hands slid around to her ass, and I squeezed. She moaned and bit down on my bottom lip. Every move she made sent me closer to the edge, and soon, I couldn’t take it anymore.
I flipped her onto her back and crawled on top of her, wincing when I put too pressure on my leg.
“Are you okay?” she asked, worry flitting across her face.
“My leg,” I said. “Just hit it wrong.”
“Sit up,” she said.
“No,” I growled. “I’ve waited too long for this.”
Tara moaned when my lips crashed down on hers. I held her to the couch, running my hands all over her body until she pushed me gently off her. She stood up and pulled her shirt over her head. She slipped her shorts off and stood before me in nothing but her panties and bra.
“God, you’re fucking gorgeous,” I said.
Tara grinned and moved toward me. She removed my shirt and then quickly unbuttoned my jeans. My leg ached, but with her help, we got my jeans and boxers off. I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against me, my lips roaming frantically over her neck and chest. I unhooked her bra and threw it across the room, desperate for the taste of her tits in my mouth.
“Fuck,” she moaned when I sucked on her nipples and slid my hand between her legs. She kicked off her panties impatiently and grabbed my face.
We kissed liked we’d never stop. Ten years of pent up sexual frustration was bursting from us both. When I threw her back on the couch, I forgot all about the pain in my leg. I climbed on top of her and yanked her to me. She watched me intently while my cock teased her entrance. I had to have her.