My fingers barely touched the clasp at the back of my bra when Tatum came back into my room, holding a bottle of water.
“Hey, wait a second,” he said.
I was leaned forward, looking up at him. I looked down and saw my chest flooding my bra. One quick twist of my fingers and my breasts would be exposed. But Tatum’s eyes didn’t have the exact excitement I had hoped they would. He blinked frantically, forcing himself to stare at my face. He twisted the top off the water and handed it to me.
I didn’t move, yet.
“You can look,” I whispered. “I don’t mind.”
Tatum turned his head and let out what sounded like a growl. “Just drink the water, Maggie.”
“Come on, look at me,” I said. “I know you want to.”
Tatum let out a breath and then all hell broke loose in the sexiest way ever. He grabbed the water bottle from my hand, spilling the chilly water on my arm. I shivered and felt my chest react. If my tender nipples weren’t already super sensitive thanks to Tatum, they were now aching and hard. His hands were then on my shoulders and a second later, I was pinned down on my bed. I put my hands to his arms, feeling the thickness of his biceps and triceps, ready to claw at them if need be.
My body raged.
My mind and heart finally matched, thinking one thing...
Have me. Please, Tatum. Have me.
He stared at me for a few seconds and then finally spoke.
“You have no idea what I want,” he said. “And whatever you think you’re doing right now isn’t the way to get what you want.”
“Worked before,” I said.
“Oh yeah? Drunk and throwing yourself at guys?”
“But I never did anything,” I said. “I just pretended to. And then told everyone.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” I said. I felt stupid, just saying that little bit sounded pathetic. “Nothing. Are you going to touch me, Tatum?”
“No,” he said and moved away from the bed again.
I felt crushed and sat up, still sitting in my bra. Tatum handed me my shirt. I held it for a seconds, hesitant on what to do.
“You don’t want me?” I asked.
Tatum smiled. “You really think that? Then you’re stupid drunk.”
“What does that mean?”
“Maggie... look at you. You’re beautiful. Why do you think I gave you my number? I thought you’d call me right away. And if you think for a second I wouldn’t... I wouldn’t enjoy you, you’re insane.”
I blushed. I had no control of my senses and my cheeks were red enough that they began to throb.
“Then... why...”
“You’re drunk,” Tatum said. “I refuse to have you wake up and then regret me.”
“I would never,” I pleaded. I swung my feet from the bed and stood up.
I almost went back down but Tatum held my shoulders.
“Maggie...”
“I would never,” I said. “I’ve done such dumb things, to keep attention on myself, but this, this feels right to me.”
Tatum squeezed my shoulders and sighed. “Of course it feels right. You’re drunk. Everything feels right.”
“No, it’s not like that,” I said. I felt tears ready to rush to my eyes. “I’m alone right now... everyone thinks something that isn’t true. Scarlett is moving out. I’m alone.”
“I’m right here,” Tatum said. “I’m not leaving, not tonight.”
“You’re here but I don’t... I don’t feel you.”
We looked at each other in silence for a few seconds. Tatum nibbled on his lip ring.
“You don’t feel me?” Tatum whispered.
Something burned in his eyes and when he moved closer to me, I gasped. Our bodies touched and it suddenly seemed unfair that I had no shirt on and he did. I wanted to feel his muscular body, bare, against mine. He lowered his head and our foreheads touched.
“Can you feel me?” Tatum whispered.
“No,” I lied, wanting more.
His nose touched my nose, gently moving left to right. Each time he moved, waves of intense heat moved through me. Everything tingled, from the tips of my toes that began to curl all the way to the very tip of my nose.
“Now?” he asked.
I shook my head.
He moved his head down and I felt his warm breath on my neck. My fingers forced their way into his belt from the bottom, trying to pull at him, wanting him tighter against me. I wanted to feel him grow hard.
Tatum resisted a little and exhaled again on my neck.
I moaned.
“You feel that,” he said.
“Nope,” I said and smiled.
Tatum put his lip ring to my neck and moved it slowly, up and down, just a few times.
“That?”
“Not a thing,” I whispered.
My body felt so amazing. Being drunk, Tatum finally touching me, nothing seemed like it could be better.
Tatum pulled his mouth from my neck, but lingered for a few seconds before he retreated back to his original position with our foreheads touching. I strained my eyes to look into his. Something still burned, something honest and true. It was almost overwhelming. What seemed like a good hookup started to feel like something much greater.
“Maggie,” he said.
“Tatum,” I replied.
“I...”
“Shut up,” I said.
He swallowed and his right hand crept down from my shoulder. I tried to turn my head to watch Tatum do whatever he wanted to me.
“Don’t look away,” he ordered. “Stare at me.”
“Okay,” I said.
His fingertips moved to the strap of my bra. One of his fingers moved under my bra strap. He followed it all the way down until his finger was inside my bra. He added more fingers and with the gentlest command, his hand moved into my bra. When his fingertips pressed along my nipple, I whimpered. The pleasure was intense; my knees tired to bend, my aching center sought relief. His entire hand was then over my breast, cupping me tight. Tatum’s eyes were locked to mine.
“Please,” I whispered.
Tatum made his growling sound again and he squeezed my chest, once, and then took his hand away. He backed up and made fists, shaking his head.
“Maggie, no,” he said. “No.”
“Why? Tell me, Tatum... why?”
He reached for my shirt and handed it to me. “Get your shirt on. Drink some water.”
“I’m not that drunk,” I said. It was sort of a lie. I was drunk, but I wouldn’t wake up the next morning and not remember Tatum. It wouldn’t be a shock to find him in bed with me. And I knew I wouldn’t wake and regret him.
Tatum felt otherwise.
“I don’t do that stuff,” he said. “I don’t care what anyone thinks of me and I don’t care what anyone thinks about the band, I can’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Take advantage of a drunk girl,” he said. “Especially you, Maggie.”
“Why? I’m not good enough?”
Tatum came at me again. He kept his hands tight in fists and let his body bounce off mine. He stared daggers at me. It scared me and turned me on all at the same time.
“That’s the thing,” he said, his voice calm and soothing. “You’re good enough. You’re more than good enough, Maggie.” His hand touched my hair, sliding it behind my ear. “And I don’t want to remember anything happening like this.”
“Please don’t go,” I said.
My heart melted, much like my panties, but they were two separate sets of emotions I had to deal with.
“I won’t go anywhere,” Tatum said. “I promise.”
“Sleep with me,” I said. “I mean, in my bed. With me. I want you to hold me.”
“Maggie,” Tatum tried to say.
Before I knew it, my hand went up to his mouth. In my mind, it was supposed to be a romantic move, me covering his mouth so I could say or do something even more romantic. Instead, I smacked him in the mout
h.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Tatum touched his mouth, his lip ring, and then he said, “Get in bed.”
I was in no position to argue with Tatum. I sat on the bed and took the bottle of water, drinking as much I could. The water tasted great and while I convinced myself it would cure everything - the pain of the moment, the pain of yesterday, and the pain of tomorrow - I knew that it probably wouldn’t even be able to stop the waiting hangover for me in the morning.
After drinking half the bottle of water, I finally put my shirt on, succumbing to the fact that out of all the guys I could have fooled around with and the one guy I actually wanted to fool around with, Tatum had to be the one who didn’t want to fool around with me. Because I was drunk. The hottest drummer in the hottest band... and he had morals.
Just my luck.
“Move over,” Tatum said as he put a knee to the bed.
“You’re sleeping with me?” I asked.
“I’m sleeping next to you. Just to make sure you don’t fall out of bed or try to get out of bed. Now move.”
I looked at Tatum, wanting to be pissed. He was commanding and teetering on being rude. But his body language was anything but. If he was trying to make me feel gross about myself, he failed miserably. What he didn’t know was that I was used to being talked down to and being used. The only difference was that with Tatum, I welcomed it... because he was just so freaking sexy.
~8~
I woke up and refused to move. I refused to even move my eyes as I waited for the sledgehammer feeling to hit me. I knew it had to come and when I remembered what I had drank the night before, it made my stomach flip. After blinking a few times, I rolled to my back and sighed. The white ceiling wasn’t spinning and the room felt calm and very comfortable. Sun flooded around the blinds in my room. Obviously, it was morning, but my bed was surprisingly cozy and I felt like I could sleep twelve more hours.
When I looked to my left, I realized what made my bed suddenly feel so comfortable and welcoming.
Tatum.
My jaw dropped. I licked my lips, wanting to taste Tatum. But I didn’t. I tasted stale breath and wine. Gross. Then I remembered Tatum and I didn’t go anywhere. He stopped it. Over and over, he stopped it.
But at least I had him in my bed.
I rolled to my left and thought about touching Tatum. I knew where I wanted to touch, but I wasn’t sure where I should. The more the night came back to me, the more the erotic moments left my mind and the serious entered.
How desperate I sounded, all the hints I left dangling.
Oh no, my shirt too.
I took my shirt off... and then tried to take my bra off.
My cheeks turned red.
I ended up as the drunk slut everyone thought I was. But Tatum didn’t take advantage of it. Even with my shirt off, he stopped it. Even with my fingers at the clasp on the back of my bra, he stopped it. Even when I kissed him, begged him to touch me, to have me, he...
“Morning,” Tatum said with his eyes still shut.
I gasped and jumped, not expecting to hear his voice.
“You coped a feel,” I said.
Tatum opened his right eye first, then his left, and he looked at me. “Did I miss something?”
“You touched me last night,” I said.
I watched Tatum’s lip curl. I had touched a nerve. And Tatum had touched me. He cupped my left breast the night before, I remembered it. His big hand moving along my breast and nipple, teasing me, loving me for a few seconds.
“That’s what you remember?” Tatum asked.
“Yeah, it is,” I said. “I was drunk, with no shirt on, and you touched me.”
“You took your shirt off on your own,” Tatum said. “And you... you just wanted it...”
Tatum started to scramble, fighting emotions. He looked ready to explode, his face tense, stuck between regret and anger.
“Why did you stop then?” I asked. “You were already there.”
“Because it was wrong to keep going,” Tatum said. “Okay? I didn’t want you to wake up like this.”
“Like this?”
“Yeah. Questioning everything. Wondering why. Trying to remember. When I have you, Maggie, I want you to be there, completely. I want you to be, with me. I want you to feel it, enjoy it, and remember for the rest of your life.”
My jaw dropped again. I wanted Tatum so bad. My right hand finally found courage and I touched him, at his shoulder, pulling at his shirt. Tatum growled like he did the night before and rolled towards me. A second later he was on top of me, our noses close to touching.
“I want you to remember it every second... every time you breathe...”
My lips quivered. I swallowed and then smiled. “So you think you’re going to get me in bed?”
Tatum looked around. “We are in bed.”
My hand slipped behind his neck and I tried to pull but Tatum resisted.
“Don’t do this again,” I said. “Tatum...”
“Maggie,” he said, my name sounding so beautiful coming from his lips. “Don’t push me.”
“What if I do? What if I want to?”
Tatum lowered his lips to mine and we shared a short kiss. He was then off me, still staring at me, something burning from within him.
“You were really drunk last night,” Tatum said. “You tried to strip yourself...”
“I know, I’m sorry about that.”
“I don’t know if I exactly agree with being sorry,” Tatum said with a smile, “but you did put me in a bad spot. A beautiful girl took her clothes off and I had to stop her.”
“You shouldn’t have. I’d remember everything. I know I would have.”
“So, you remember everything then?” Tatum asked.
There was a teasing glance floating through his eyes. I suddenly started to think harder than ever, wondering if I had said or done something. Tatum didn’t give any other hint so I finally nodded, knowing I was potentially lying.
“Okay,” Tatum said. “You remember everything. I believe you.”
“Do you?”
“Do you want to see if it hurts?” Tatum asked.
His face was serious, mind wasn’t.
Do you want to see if it hurts?
“What...”
“Thought you remembered everything,” Tatum teased. “It’ll only take a few seconds.”
“If it hurts,” I said. I thought about DownCrash. I thought about playing drums. I thought about everything.
Then I realized maybe it was being tortured, wanting something so bad and not getting it. He had to endure his own urges all night because I was drunk. But that didn’t make complete sense because I suffered too. All I wanted was to wake up and find my body still tingling, still throbbing thanks to Tatum.
“Show me,” I finally said. “Show me what hurts, or whatever.”
“Or whatever?” Tatum asked. “Maggie...”
“Hurry up before I change my mind,” I said.
“Roll to the other side for a minute,” Tatum ordered.
I listened, tempted to look over my shoulder, but I didn’t. I waited. I felt one of his hands touched my shoulder and I gritted my teeth to keep from letting out a groan. His fingers drew lines down my back to the bottom of my shirt. I then felt his fingers touch my bare back.
“No, that doesn’t hurt,” I said.
“Good,” Tatum said. “Enjoy this while you can...”
The words made my body shudder. I ached everywhere thanks to Tatum. His hand continued up my back and finally came to rest at my bra. One of his fingers ran left to right along the clasp. I thought about saying something, maybe teasing him and asking if he knew how to take a bra off, but I didn’t have a chance. With the twist of his fingers, my bra was undone.
Oh... fuck...
Tatum was beautiful. Brilliant. My breasts pushed forward, finally having relief. Between my legs was as wet as the night before. Everything was tender and when I felt Tatum’s fingertips touching
the back of my arm, I finally let out a moan as I moved my arm.
He wanted to reach around me.
“Are you sure, Maggie?” he whispered.
“Yes,” I said, still unsure what I had agreed to.
Tatum’s body came closer to mine. He rested his chest near the top of my head. I felt his heart pounding, heavy, fast thuds compared to the flutter of heartbeats in my chest.
When he touched the right side of my left breast, I moaned again. His entire hand soon held me tight. His fingers began to massage, squeezing almost to the point of pain but never quite getting there. Each time he squeezed, more stuff happened to me. Everything started to feel more and more sensitive and I couldn’t believe that I was already ready to finish.
Tatum then started to close his fingers, moving his palm off my breast. The more his fingers came together, the more pressure he applied. Part of me wanted to look over my shoulder and see Tatum’s eyes, see what kind of expression he had while touching me. But I couldn’t move. I was frozen, eagerly awaiting what Tatum had in store.
I found out a few seconds later when his middle finger and thumb came together. He held my erect nipple between his two fingers and just waited there.
“Maggie,” he whispered, “you make me want to go crazy... that’s why I had to touch you last night. I’m sorry I did, because you were drunk, but I couldn’t stop.”
“It’s all I wanted last night,” I replied. “It’s all I want right now...”
Tatum rubbed his face against my cheek. I felt the metal of his lip ring. It made my insides throb some more. I’d never been so close to climax without finishing in my life.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said in a devilish voice.
I moaned but that, along with my breath, was stolen a second later.
Tatum brought his middle finger and thumb together in a squeeze that I never saw coming. I knew Tatum had a wild side to him, that much I could read in his eyes, but to actually experience it, to feel it...
I cried out as the pain surged not just at my tender nipple and not just through my aching breast, but through my entire body.
He didn’t let up either.
His strong fingers squeezed some more, bringing tears to my eyes. I clung to the pillows and wanted to wiggle away but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was paralyzed from the pain and the excitement.
Torn to Pieces (The Boys of DownCrash #2) (new adult contemporary romance / rockstar romance) Page 6
