I’d been sneaking into The Black Sheep’s open mic nights since they first started. I never brought any of the other guys with me, afraid that more than one of us out in a public setting would draw unwanted attention. That bar was the shit when it came to hosting some of the best undiscovered talent I’d ever heard play. And I got off on the high the music gave me. It was the same high I’d tried chasing with drugs and booze years before when I stopped feeling like I was in control of my own life. The same high I started losing my grasp on around the time the band hit it big and we had too many other people to answer to.

Back then I’d been so swept up in the fame and notoriety that I’d lost my passion for what I did. It took losing Tate to pull my head out of my ass. But without her there to share in it, the joy that once fueled my soul whenever I created music was dull and unsatisfying.

It wasn’t nearly as heady as when Tate had been a part of it, but at least these open mic nights helped spur my creativity to some extent. So I’d donned my poor attempt at a disguise and headed to the bar alone.

But when I walked through the doors, I instantly felt her gaze penetrate my skin like laser beams. Lifting my head just enough to see from under the brim of my ball cap, I scanned the area, coming to a stop at the bar where she sat on a stool beside Gina. Her stare held mine, unwavering, as I tipped one corner of my lips up in a smirk. Tate tracked me the whole time as I worked my way through the crowd into an unoccupied booth in the back. Once there, I took a seat, lifted a hand, and curled my finger in a gesture that told her to join me.

She leaned over to Gina, whispering something in her ear that sent her attention my way. A knowing grin teased the blonde’s lips as she nodded and waved Tate off. A few seconds later, she arrived at my table, sliding into the seat across from me.

“Is this an attempt at a disguise?” she asked with a teasing smile, reaching across the table and flicking the bill of the cap.

“It’s worked for me so far.”

“Hmm.” Her lips scrunched to one side. “Well, I don’t know how much longer it’ll save you from the masses. I clocked you the second you walked through the door.”

Propping my forearms on the table, I pressed closer and lowered my voice. “Sweetheart, that had nothing to do with my disguise.”

One of her perfectly arched eyebrows quirked up. “Oh really?”

“Really. My blood still hums to life whenever you’re around, and I’m guessing yours does the same.” Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, and I knew I’d hit the nail on the head. “Am I right, or are you going to lie to yourself about that too?”

Her expression turned defiant at my challenge. “Are you baiting me?” she asked in a way that told me she already knew the answer.

“You tell me.”

“I think you are,” she replied, leaning in as well, just to prove she wasn’t backing down, just like she refused to back down when we were kids. “And I’ll call your bluff. Yes, I knew the moment you walked through those doors before I even turned to look. You happy now?”

“Immensely,” I answered honestly as a full-blown smile stretched across my face. Tatum’s attention darted down to my lips and I flicked my tongue out, reveling in how her eyes grew hazy as I wetted my bottom lip before pulling it between my teeth and biting down, giving her a show of exactly what I wanted to do to her lush mouth.

The spell was broken when a waitress stopped at the table, asking in a bubbly voice, “What can I get for you guys?”

I lowered my head so she couldn’t see me and opened my mouth, prepared to answer when Tate spoke up, cutting me off. “Jack over ice for him, and I’ll just have a water.”

The server scribbled our order on her pad and took off a second later. I looked up at Tate and asked, “Pretty presumptuous of you. How’d you know I didn’t want a beer?”

Her grin was playful as she shook her head. “You only drink beer when you’re relaxing with your friends privately. When you’re out in public, it’s usually Jack, or tequila if you’re in the mood to party. And seeing as you showed up here alone, I’m guessing you came for the music, not to tie one on.”

Fuck, she was something else. “And she thinks she doesn’t know me anymore,” I muttered under my breath.

“Yeah well, it’s starting to come back to me piece by piece.”

That hit me like a blow to the stomach. Such a simple statement packed such an emotional punch. To anyone else, that might not have sounded like much, but I knew it was an admission that I was starting to break through those walls of hers.

“So, how come you’re here by yourself? Not in the mood to hunt for some poor, unsuspecting women with Kill and Mace tonight?” she asked, the uncertainty in her eyes belying the casualness of her tone.

“What can I say?” I shrugged. “Meaningless pussy just doesn’t cut it anymore.”

“So you’re saying you want meaningful pussy? How mature of you.”

Resting my back against the booth, I let my gaze travel over what I could see of her body. My cock stirred to life in a way only Tate could incite. “Now, now, Tater tot. It’s not like you to fish.” Her face pinched with anger, but I kept talking before she could issue an insult. “I think you’re more than aware of exactly whose pussy I crave. Sadly, nothing else compares.”

“Sadly,” she repeated, a triumphant smirk tugging at her lips as she leaned back. We sat in silence for several minutes, both getting lost in the acts coming and going from the stage. The drinks the waitress had deposited on our table went untouched while we let the lyrics consume us.

Shifting on the bench, I pulled the small notebook from my back pocket and tossed it onto the table in front of me.

Tate’s focus bounced to the notepad, her eyes growing round at the sight of it before she blinked to clear the glassiness and look back up at me. “You….” Her throat bobbed with a heavy swallow. “You still have that?” she asked, her voice so low I barely heard it over the band playing.

The shock in her voice made my stomach clench, and I knew answering with something light and carefree would be a mistake. “You’re surprised?”

“I—” She closed her eyes for a brief moment, giving her head a quick shake like she was trying to clear it. “I just thought…. How is it not full by now?”

I flipped the book open to a particular song, ‘Crimson’ scribbled along the top in my chicken-scratch handwriting. “I only write the most important songs in this one. All the others are in a separate notebook.”

She dropped her head on a sigh. “God. Declan.”

“I’ve carried you with me for ten fucking years, Tate.” When she looked back up at me, her eyes were red with unshed tears. “How much have you had to drink?” I asked, unable to hold back for another goddamn second.

The way her chest rose with a deep inhale, and how she squirmed in her seat, told me she knew exactly what I was asking. “I switched to water a few hours ago.”

“Good.” Stuffing the notebook back in my pocket, I stood from the booth and grabbed Tate’s hand, pulling her out after me. She didn’t say a word as I led her down a dimly lit hallway off the back of the bar. I checked every door we passed, desperately looking for one that was unlocked. I knew I should wait until we were back at our building, but I couldn’t. My need for her outweighed common sense and courtesy. I had to have her right then.

Finally, one of the knobs turned and I shoved it open, yanking Tatum into the pitch-black room behind me and slamming the door shut. I felt along the wall for a switch, flipping it up as soon as my fingers closed around it and illuminating the space in a glaring florescent light. Bottles lined the shelves all around us, but the minuscule stockroom could have been a five-star hotel for all I cared. All I could see was her. And by the way she pulled at me, trying to get my lips to hers, I knew she felt the exact same way.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she breathed into my mouth as she worked each button of my shirt free.

“Yes, we fuckin’ should,” I growled, palming her ass and rocking her against my throbbing erection. “We never should’ve stopped doing this.”

Her head fell back on a moan, giving me perfect access to suck and bite at her neck. One of Tate’s hands fisted in my hair as the other came down to rub my cock through my jeans. “Don’t make me beg this time,” she panted, her eyes cloudy and glazed with want. “I need you too much.”

I had my dick free so fast it was a miracle I didn’t get it caught in my zipper. “Need you too, baby,” I told her as I continued to feast on her mouth. Hiking her skirt up to her waist, I ripped her panties off, stuffing them into my pocket before lifting her off the ground and pinning her against the wall. “Need you so goddamn much.” Then I drove in as deep as I could go.

The way her pussy gripped me as I thrust in and out of her was fucking bliss, pure and simple. She wrapped her legs around my waist, crossing her ankles so she could work her hips against mine with each powerful thrust. “God, you feel so good,” she whimpered. “So thick. Fuck me, Declan.”

“Nothing in this world that feels better than being inside you,” I grunted as I moved, mindful not to go too fast. I never wanted this to end.

“Harder, baby,” she demanded, clenching her pussy around me. “Fuck me harder.”

Christ, she was killing me. “No,” I hissed through gritted teeth.

She looked at me with pleading eyes as she begged, “Please, Deck.”

“Want this to last,” I said on a grunt as beads of sweat began to trail down my temples.

Then the little minx leaned in, taking my bottom lip between her teeth, and bit down. “You can fuck me nice and slow later. Right now I want to feel you everywhere.”

Her words made me stop completely, causing her to cry out in protest. “Declan, what are you doing? Move.” She circled her hips, desperately trying to get more of me.

“Promise,” I commanded, refusing to move until I had her attention on my face.

She blinked rapidly to bring me back into focus. “What?”

“Promise this isn’t the last time. Promise you’ll let me have you again and I’ll give you what you want.”

“I….” She hesitated for only a second. “I promise.”

That was all I needed. Pulling all the way out, I dropped her back to her feet and spun her to face the wall. “Yeah, baby. Just like that. God, such a good girl,” I encouraged as she braced her hands on the cold cinder block wall and tipped her ass back to give me better access.

“Yes,” she hissed, throwing her head back when I powered inside her slick pussy. Harsh breaths cut through the echo of naked flesh slapping together as I fucked her so hard I wondered if I’d leave bruises.

Wrapping all that long silky hair around my fist, I pulled back until her neck bent and her back bowed. “This what you want?” I asked, tugging her hair as I fucked her hard and fast.

“Yeah, baby. Just like this.” Lifting my free hand, I brought it down on her bare ass, and her body jolted at the feel of the slap. “Oh god. I’m so fucking close.”

“Yeah, my girl always liked it rough.” I gave her ass another smack, the red palm print on her creamy skin making my cock swell.

Her walls clamped down as she whimpered. “Again, baby,” she begged.

“No one else can give you what I can.” Smack. “No one else knows what you need.” Smack.

“No one,” she cried. “Only you.”

My Tatum was perfect for me in every single way, in bed and out of it. She gave me her heart and her body in any and every way I asked. We’d loved each other so much there were no inhibitions whatsoever.

Sliding a hand between her thighs, I coated my fingers in her juices and slid the slick digits up the crease of her round, perfect ass. Her whole body trembled as I swirled my index finger around her tight hole.

I pressed my chest against her back, my finger prodding that ring of muscle as I whispered into her ear. “Tell me you want me.”

“I want you,” she replied instantly. The first knuckle slipped past the resistance, and I could feel her entire body string tighter.

“This isn’t over,” I demanded as my balls drew up, desperate to empty themselves inside her.

“It’s not over,” she repeated.

Another knuckle sank in. “What we have, it’s not even fucking close to over,” I growled.

“Please, Deck. I need to come.”

Releasing my hold on her hair, I snaked my other hand around her ribs and down to where we were joined. I buried my finger deep in her ass, drove my cock into her pussy, and pinched her clit all at the same time, causing her to detonate. It was more goddamn brilliant than fireworks on the Fourth of July, and it was impossible not to follow her headfirst into ecstasy.

With my jaw clenched and my eyes screwed shut, I poured myself into her, groaning her name as stars burst behind my eyelids.

It took forever for us to come back down from the high we’d just ridden together, but once I did, only one thought crossed my mind.

If she tried to run again, I’d tie her to my bed for the rest of her life.

Tatum Valentine was mine. From that moment until the day we died. Whether she liked it or not.