Tempting Tatum (19 page)

This song, “Timber,” it’s fitting. I’m falling hard and fast for this girl. I feel like I should be yelling “Timber” at the top of my lungs. Tatum is grinding her ass into my crotch and any willpower I may have had, just flew out the fucking window. I love the feel of her body next to mine.

She turns in my arms. I hold her close as I sway my hips, grinding to the beat. Her eyes catch mine. I see what I’m feeling reflected back at me, lust and longing. I can’t wait any longer. I crash my lips to hers. She willingly opens for me. The taste of her on my tongue fuels my desire. I nip at her bottom lip, then plunge back in. She gives as much as I take.

Every part of Tatum is pressed tight against every single fucking part of me. My hands are all over her. One is caressing her cheek while I use the other to go back and forth between holding her close to me and caressing her back. Her fingers run through my hair, and I lose control. I grip her hips and eliminate all space. I want to lift her thighs and wrap her legs around me; with the skirt she’s wearing that’s not possible. No one is going to see her, no one but me.

Holding her in my arms, her scent and her taste, my senses are on overload and my cock thinks it’s time to come out and play. I know she can feel me, how hard I am. There is no controlling it with our bodies fused together.

I know I need to put a little space between us so she doesn’t think I just want to fuck her.

I do.

I want her.

I want all of her. I want her smiles and her laugh. I want to be the one she leans on, runs to. I want to be the one who can make the sadness is her eyes disappear. I want to build a life with her.

The song changes to a slow one and I slowly end our kiss. Tatum tries to step away. I’m not having that. I want her in my arms, as close as I can get her. It doesn’t escape me that I’m not only dancing, but I just had a very public make out session. I can’t find it in me to care.

I tighten my grip around her waist until I feel her relax in my arms. She rests her head against my chest as Hunter Hayes sings about making his girl feel “Wanted.” I can relate. I don’t want a day to go by that she doesn’t know how much I want her.

I hold her tight with one hand while the other gently strokes her back. I’ve never felt this…this need for another person. I know I’m coming in fast and strong, but dammit, I can’t stop it. I’ve always been known for going after what I want. Hell, Asher and I dreamed of Self Expressions and busted our asses every day to make it happen.

I look down at Tatum, her eyes half closed, wearing a lidded look of satisfaction. I want to give her that look every single day.

I’m going to fight with everything in me to make her mine.

For the rest of the song, I hold her tight. I listen to the words and vow to myself that I will make Tatum feel wanted every day.

Once the last note is sung, Tatum lifts her head. “I need a drink,” she says softly.

I nod my head and grab her hand, lacing our fingers together. There is no way I can go without touching her after that. Holding her in my arms, she’s a perfect fit.

I lead her back to the table and pull a chair out for her. Leaning down, I whisper in her ear, “What do you want, sweetheart?”

She turns her head to answer me and her mouth is mere inches from mine. All I have to do is lean in just a little to have my lips on hers again. So, after she tells me she wants water, that’s exactly what I do. I lean in and give her a chaste kiss on the lips.

At the bar, I order Tatum and I both a water. I’ve only had two beers tonight and one shot. I am driving after all. I feel Asher’s hand land on my shoulder.

“That was some show back there.” He motions his head toward the dance floor. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that,” he says.

Because I’ve been waiting for Tatum.
“Nope,” is my reply.

Asher laughs, “I hear you brother, loud and clear.” He squeezes my shoulder and heads back to our table.

I’m right behind him. I reach the table and Cade is sitting in my seat. I try to remain cool. Technically, Tatum is not mine, but she will be.

I stand beside Tatum and reach for her hand. I gently tug to get her to stand up. Once she does, I sit down in the chair and pull her onto my lap. I hand her one of the waters. “Here’s your water, babe.”

She smiles at me and takes the bottle of water. “Thank you.”

Take that, Cade. I don’t want to be a possessive ass, but really, he needs to understand it’s time for him to move on.

A few more minutes of small talk and Cade is still the odd man out. I try not to smirk each time he looks at us, but it’s really hard not to. Especially since Tatum has taken it upon herself to lean against my chest. I have one arm around her waist holding her to me while the other is resting on her thigh. I’m in the middle of discussing the upcoming UFC fight with the guys when she adjusts her position and is now sitting sideways on my lap. During a break in the conversation, I hear her soft voice. “I’m ready for us to go home,” she says.

My heart soars. Not only did she associate me with home, she insinuated we are together. I know I’m reaching. I did drive her here, but in Cade’s eyes, she’s with me, we’re an us.

I kiss her forehead. “Sure thing, sweetheart,” I tell her.

Tatum has had a lot to drink and I can tell she’s ready to fall asleep. I take the half-full water bottle from her hands and place it on the table. I look at Jackson and Ember. “Tatum’s ready to go home.” I don’t bother asking them if they are. They rode with me and my girl is ready to leave. I lift her in my arms, nod my head at Asher and Brent, and head out to my truck.

“I can walk,” she says over a yawn.

“I would rather you be right where you are,” I tell her. No way am I passing up a chance to hold her. Not going to happen.

I reach my truck and realize I’m going to have to put her down in order to get the door open. I don’t want to.

“Tatum, can you pull the door open, sweetheart?” I ask her.

She opens her eyes as she reaches for the door. She opens the door; I walk around it and place her gently in the passenger seat. Tenderly, I brush her hair out of her eyes.

“Thank you for the dance,” she says in a soft sleepy voice.

I don’t respond. Instead, I lean over her and latch her seatbelt. My face is close to hers and her eyes pop open. I freeze. Locked in place, I take her in.

Tatum reaches up and places her hands on both cheeks, holding me still. “You kissed me,” she says, almost in question.

“I did,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. This girl, she has me.

“Do it again,” she says right before her lips touch mine.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

No hesitation. I slowly caress her lips with mine. Tatum tries to take the kiss deeper, but I pull back. Jackson and Ember should be here any second, and if I let this go any further, they will see more than they bargained for. I want to, God, how I want to.

I’m drunk. I’m drunk and trying to make a move on Blaise. He shuts me down. He kisses me back, but not like he did on the dance floor. Instead, he shuts my door and walks to his side of the truck. I should have known better. I should have known a sexy specimen such as himself wouldn’t want me. This…everything these past few weeks has been a game for him. He must have chickened out because I’m Ember’s new roommate. Even with his rejection, I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be with him. That’s my last thought as I drift off to sleep.

It’s not until Blaise lays me down on my bed do I wake up. He slips off my boots, or Ember’s boots rather, and pulls the covers over me. Leaning down, he kisses my forehead.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispers.

Before he has the chance to get away, I reach out and grab his arm. “Stay.” One word can change it all. If I’m successful at seducing him, I may have to find a new place to live, if we can’t get past it. My alcohol induced brain is screaming for me to ravish him, damn the consequences. I have resisted him as long as I can; now I want him to give me what he gives all those other girls. I want a night with the infamous Blaise Richards.

Blaise sits on the edge of the bed. His hand sweeps my hair away from my eyes. “I can’t stay. I don’t trust myself with you,” he says softly.

I place my hand on his thigh and inch closer to his goods. He places his hand over mine to stop me. “Don’t.”

The rejection hits me like a wrecking ball. What’s wrong with me that turns men away? First Josh, now Blaise. I’m humiliated, again. I can feel my lip start to tremble. I bite down hard, tasting blood. Maybe Blaise will assume the tears are from the pain in my lip and not his rejection. I roll onto my side so my back is to him. I don’t want him to see me cry.

He places his hand on my back and begins to rub soothing circles. I hate how his touch still ignites a fire within me even though he doesn’t want me. Damn hormones. I don’t respond. I bite down harder on my lip and curl into a ball, fighting off the tears that are pushing to the surface.

I hear him stand up. I listen with baited breath for the door to close. It doesn’t. Instead, I hear shoes softly tumbling onto the hardwood floor. I feel the bed dip with his weight and then I feel Blaise. He’s lying behind me. I can feel his body heat seep into me. I’m instantly pissed off because I want him. I wanted a night of passion. I wanted to forget the pain. Unable to hold them in any longer, tears begin to flow and my shoulders begin to shake.

Without hesitation, Blaise wraps his arms around me and pulls me back against his chest. He doesn’t say anything; he just holds me. I don’t understand why he’s being so nice. The only reason I can come up with is he feels sorry for me. Maybe he feels bad for leading me on?

I focus on taking deep breaths and get my emotions under control. Blaise notices and speaks for the first time since he laid down. “You want to talk about it?” he asks as he continues to hold me tight.

Really? A laugh escapes me. “Sure, Blaise, let’s talk about how I practically threw myself at you and you rejected me. Let’s not,” I say dryly.

His arm tenses around me. “What? No, baby. I didn’t reject you. I was protecting you,” he excuses.

I roll over to face him. He keeps his arm locked tight around me. We’re now face to face and he can see the evidence of my tears.

Blaise removes his hand from my waist and gently wipes my tears away with his thumb. As soon as he’s finished, his arm goes back around me, holding me to him.

We lie there, watching each other. Blaise finally breaks the silence. “Baby, I could never reject you. I want you, I do. What I don’t want is for you to think I used you for a quick fuck when I want all of you,” he tells me. His eyes are boring into mine, trying to convince me he means what he says.

Holy Shit!

It must be the alcohol. There is no way I comprehend this correctly. My face must show my confusion because Blaise starts to further explain.

“I want you. All of you. I want your smiles, your laughs. I want to be the one person in the world you know you can always count on. I want to be the one you run to. I want to be able to fall asleep like this every night and wake up to you every morning,” he tells me.