Page 27 of Twisted Tate

I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’ll . . . be . . . okay.”

The words come out as wheezing and sobs. I’m not sure I believe it myself, but I have to keep trying to get enough air.

“Look at me.”

I don’t want to. I don’t want him to see me like this—broken and desperate, needing something I’m too ashamed to ask for.

“Reese.” His voice sharpens. “Look at me.”

I open my eyes. He’s close, closer than I realized, his face inches from mine. I can just make out the hard line of his jaw, the intensity of his eyes in the darkness.

“Let me give you what you need.”

My heart stutters. “What?”

“You heard me.” His thumb strokes along my cheekbone. “You need something to calm you down. Something in your mouth. Let me give it to you.”

“I can’t ask you to—”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” His voice drops lower. “I’m telling you to take what you need from me. Use me, baby girl.”

The words send a shiver down my spine that has nothing to do with fear.

“This . . . isn’t—” I’m struggling to find enough air to speak and press my hand to my chest. “You . . . don’t . . . have . . . to—”

“I know.” He shifts, and I feel him moving in the bed, sitting up against the headboard. “Come here.”

I don’t move. I can’t. My body is frozen between the panic still clawing at my chest and what he’s offering me.

“Reese.” His hand slides into my hair, gripping the roots, but not forcing me. “Stop thinking. Come here and use me for what you need.”

My body moves before my brain gives permission. I crawl toward him in the darkness, and he gently guides me to rest my head against his stomach. My breathing is still erratic and not coming fast enough.

One of his hands settle on my waist. “Now. I’m going to give you what you need. This isn’t about me. I’m not going to fuck your mouth. I’m not going to come. This is just for you. Understand?”

I nod, not trusting my voice.

He reaches down and frees himself from his boxers. Even in the darkness, I can tell he’s hard—thick and heavy and more than enough to fill my mouth.

“Whenever you’re ready.” His voice is steady. Patient. “Take what you need.”

I lean forward and wrap my lips around him.

The relief crashes through me like a wave.

My body sags as I take him deeper, feeling his weight on my tongue, the stretch of my lips around him. This is what I needed. This is what my body has been screaming for all day. Something solid. Something real. Something to fill the desperate, aching emptiness inside me.

My head rests on his stomach and I hold him there, just sucking the part of his dick that I’ve pulled into my mouth.

“That’s it, baby girl.” His hand moves to my hair, stroking slowly. “Just like that. Breathe through your nose and calm yourself.”

I close my eyes and let myself sink into the sensation. The panic is still there, lurking at the edges, but it’s fading now. Pushed back by the warmth of him, the taste of him, the steady rhythm of his breathing above me.

“You’re safe.” His voice is low and rough. “I’ve got you. Nothing’s going to hurt you here.”

I’m not sucking, not really. I’m just holding him, letting him fill my mouth, letting the weight of him anchor me to the present. The nightmare feels far away now. My father’s voice has gone quiet. Michael’s face has faded into nothing.

There’s only this. Only Tate.