“Make yourself feel good, Tatum. You said you get yourself off. Help me bring you off, show me what you like.”
A red blush worked its way up her neck, but he didn’t let her be embarrassed with him, not now, not here. They had limited time until the effects of the alcohol dissipated and he listened to his conscience again.
Pulling down the other side of her dress, taking the bra with him, he pulled her nipple into his mouth, using his teeth to nip the flesh before he soothed the quick burn with his tongue. She relaxed, her thighs expanding to push harder against his body as both of them worked on her tits.
She was rocking against him, whether she was aware of it or not. She was hot, so fucking hot, he could feel it on his boxers, could feel her wetness coating his cock through their clothes.
Snaking his hand between their bodies, he shoved aside the tiny strip of her thong and gently used his fingers to slip inside her body.
“Oh my God, Remy,” she buried her head in his neck, panting heavily.
“This is it, Tatum. Just let me make you feel good.”
If he had any doubt she was hot, it was nothing compared to actually experiencing it. She opened up to his fingers, rode his palm, shoving her clit against the rough skin, bit and licked his neck, and groaned in his ear. He’d wear her mark, he knew, but it was worth it. He’d wear it like a fucking badge of honor and be proud to do it.
Before he knew it, she’d moved her hands down to his boxers and pushed the elastic back, grasping his cock in her hand.
“Tatum,” he warned. He was on a hair trigger. He had everything he’d ever wanted in his lap, in his mouth, riding his hand. He was going to spill in five seconds if she kept it up.
“I want you to come with me,” she breathed against his ear, burying her scream in his neck as he sucked so hard on her nipple his cheeks hollowed out.
And then it was as if they both broke. He could feel her pussy tighten as he felt the lengthening of his cock and before he could pull her hand away, he’d erupted all over her fingers and his stomach.
They thrust against each other, riding out their orgasms. With a final lick against her hard nipple, he threw his head back against the couch, gasping deeply. If he was still prone to asthma attacks, he knew he’d be having one right now.
Eventually, he came back to himself and realized what the hell they had done.
“Tatum,” he whispered as his lips brushed against her hair. “We can’t do this again, it was a mistake.”
She froze in his arms, and he knew he’d said the wrong thing.
“Didn’t seem like it was a mistake a few minutes ago.”
Her voice did little to hide the hurt, and he could hear it plain as day. “There’s nothing here for us, Tatum. You think I can pick you up, carry you to my dorm, and take your virginity right now?” he shoved himself into his boxers and fought to close his jeans against his still-hard cock.
“Who says I’d give it to you?” she shot him a look as she tried to scramble off his lap.
His hand grabbed her thigh, pulling her tighter against him as he shoved two fingers deep into her body.
She accepted them, closing her eyes, and again trying to rock against him.
“Your body doesn’t lie, babe. You want it, but I’m not the guy to give it to you.”
He didn’t miss the tears that built behind her eyes, unshed. She opened her mouth to speak, but then shook her head. She lifted her chin and shook back the tears as she firmed her lips into a determined smile.
“Y’know what? Merry Christmas Remy. I hope you enjoyed your present.”
Before he could answer, she had gotten up, turned on those high heels, and left the garage.
How did he tell her it was the best Christmas gift he’d ever gotten?
Chapter Fifty
Tatum’s blue eyes took in the party-goers around her. In different parts of the room, she could see members of her graduating class, some kids that were now seniors, and a few college kids. God, this had never been her thing, she’d never found high school or college parties worth anything to her. She could see everything that went on at them and more, at the club parties. Plus, this was a mob mentality – everyone here went along with everyone else, and it was so boring. Nobody had any individuality. Normally, she’d have tossed the invitation in the trash can and not even thought twice about it. She would have spent the night at the club’s New Year’s party and have an actual good time with her friends and family.
Tonight though, she was on a mission.
“Do you see anybody?” Addie asked as they surveyed the room.
Tatum took a drink from the bottle of Strawberry Boone’s Farm she carried in her hand. It was the bottom shelf stuff, guaranteed to get you loaded in the least amount of time. She was guessing the alcohol content was more than it said on the bottle, because she was pretty sure she could start a fire with her breath. Of course some of that could be because she wasn’t much of a drinker, but tonight she felt she needed to be. She needed the extra help calming her nerves and the push to help her go through with her plan.
“Still lookin’,” she continued gazing out over the bodies that were packed tightly on the makeshift dance floor. It should really be called a meat market. Girls were out there with hardly any clothes on, guys were out there with no shirts on, boldly assessing the under-dressed girls. It was all so awkward, but at the same time, she knew she had to get comfortable with it – even if the one guy she really wanted to see wasn’t here and he wasn’t going to be here.
No one had ever made her feel even a fraction of what Remy made her feel just being in the same room with him. He didn’t even have to look at her or touch her, and she was ready to explode the minute they shared the same bit of air. What was it about him? Why did she react so strongly to him – and so not strongly to anyone else?
Why couldn’t she find someone that even looked interesting? Wasn’t New Year’s Eve the night everyone wanted to get laid? Tonight was the grand night of hookups, wasn’t it? How many times had she heard of one-night stands on nights like this? Where was the guy that would take care of her pesky little problem?
Taking another swallow of her drink, she gave herself another pep talk. The guy didn’t have to be perfect. Hell, he couldn’t be perfect because to her, only Remy was perfection. And she could definitely kiss the hope of that relationship goodbye for now. She wasn’t going to be played into giving him a piece of her when he didn’t give piece of himself in return. She still felt the embarrassment of how cool he’d been when he dismissed her… for the last fucking time; that was for damn sure.
“Why are you doing this again?” Addie asked from where she stood beside her friend.
“I don’t want him to see me as a little girl anymore. I feel like my virginity is something that’s holding him back. He said he wouldn’t take it, so it’s mine to get rid of how I want to,” she swallowed roughly against the humiliation she’d suffered when he’d told her he they couldn’t be together.
“Do you think maybe he’s trying to protect you?” Addie asked, trying to make her friend look her in the eye.
Tatum shook her head. “Anybody ever tell you that you sound too much like your dad sometimes?”
“My dad is highly respected by everyone, so I’d take that as a compliment,” she folded her arms over her chest.
Feeling a little bit ornery and a whole lot drunk, Tatum didn’t take the time to mask her frustration. “Take it however you want to, but the reasons for me wanting to get rid of a label are my own.”
“Tate.”
Tatum hated the tone Addie was using with her. “What?” she snapped.
“If you get in there with someone and it doesn’t feel right, I’ll be right outside. I’m not going to leave you alone. It’s not just a label that you’re trying to get rid of, you know.”
Tatum felt like crying as she listened to the soft words her best friend spoke. Call it a reaction to what she was about to do, or to the alcohol she’d
consumed, or the sneaking suspicion that she was more afraid than she’d ever let on, but she wanted to bawl and throw herself into Addie’s arms. “I appreciate that,” she said instead, straightening her shoulders and nodding at a group across the room. “That’s my man.”
Addie’s eyes widened as she saw a guy they both knew from around the area. He’d actually graduated with Remy and it looked like he was holding court over in the shadows of the living room. He had women around him, but his eyes kept cutting over to where Tatum stood.
If it had been any other night, and any other guy, Addie would have told her to go for it, Tatum knew that for a fact. He was model material, if you dug the lumberjack look mixed with the lead singer of a rock band. Many women did, and Tatum figured she could dig it for however long it took for them to do the deed. He winked at her as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and threw it in the ashtray sitting beside him.
“Tate, that guy knows Remy.” Addie grabbed her arm, trying to pull her back as she turned to face the group.
“As does half this whole fuckin’ town,” she spat as she pulled the bottle from her brown paper bag and downed the rest of it. She marched over to the group crowded around the big man. She put an extra sway in her hips, stuck her tits further out, and purposely pulled the shirt she wore higher up on her stomach. Her ears buzzed and she wasn’t sure if it was from the volume of the party, the alcohol or her nerves, but whatever it was, she wasn’t going to let it deter her.
“Hey Gavin,” she gave him her best smile as she walked up, pushing the other women aside, making sure she was the center of attention.
“Tatum Walker? Damn girl, you’ve sure grown up.”
His eyes took in her body from the top of her head to the tips of her boots, and then landed right in the center where the swells of her breasts pushed against the fabric of her t-shirt. Pulling her hair over her shoulder, she twirled a strand around her finger, giving him her best ‘come hither’ look.
“You wanna get out of here?” He asked, pushing off the wall and walking towards her, offering his hand.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
As he led her up the stairs, her eyes met Addie’s and not for the first time, she wondered if what she was doing really was the right thing for her or not.
Chapter Fifty-One
Remy was in a piss-poor mood, had been since the night of the Christmas party and everything that had gone down with Tatum. He bit off the head of anyone foolish enough to ask if he was okay. He’d been eating lunch by himself, and overall had been a miserable fucking loner. Even right now, while everyone else was partying their asses off, his big date was being in the gym and beating the ever-loving shit out of a heavy bag. It was the only thing that seemed to calm him the last few days.
Hearing his fists connect with the bag felt good, even if it was muted by the gloves he wore. His arms burned, his shoulders and back ached, his chest heaved, and sweat poured down his forehead and into his eyes; making them sting. The sting felt good though, because it distracted him from the guilt he felt for the way he’d treated Tatum. And that guilt was pressing down on him like he was trapped under a thousand-pound boulder.
He’d felt every emotion on the spectrum since she’d walked out on him that night in the garage. Part of him was happy as fuck she’d been able to accept the attraction between them and even act on it. Another part was pissed that he hadn’t been able to give her what she wanted – what he wanted, but he knew the guilt would be ten times worse if he had. He wasn’t the type of guy to hit it and quit it on good girls. Normally the girls he took to bed had a sexual hang up or two—daddy issues, or maybe they liked their ass smacked a little too hard – but Tatum was untouched. She was absolutely perfect to him and he thought maybe that scared him more than anything. She was strong willed and headstrong and he was a little afraid of where that could lead. He was trying to be strong for what he believed were good reasons, the right reasons but it didn’t seem to matter that he’d been doing his best to protect her, to respect her family and to respect her.
They’d given him more than they had to. Helping Cash with what he needed to get custody of Remy when he was a kid. Letting him be a member of Heaven Hill, letting him live at the clubhouse, letting him be a man. For so long in his childhood he’d felt like less of a man because of his asthma, because he’d been so sick. There was still a part of him that carried around guilt for the money Cash paid out to doctors to help him get over the sickness, and he’d never been able to repay his brother. Any time he tried, Cash shoved the money back in Remy’s pocket, told him to put it away, and save it for himself. This group of men, had helped him learn that what Cash did was what family was supposed to do. They were there for each other, no matter the circumstances, no matter the time of day or night, and they weren’t shady. Once you wore a patch, whether it be property, prospect, or member – you were in. You were one of them.
He’d had no respect as a kid. People always looked down on him and Cash because of where they’d come from, of who their parents had been. Their parents, damn. It’d been years since he’d thought about them, but it didn’t get any easier. Every once in a while, someone would mention his dad’s name or they’d say they’d seen him in passing, and they’d congratulate Remy on stopping the cycle.
Stopping the cycle.
He pounded the bag harder as he felt the anger well up in him again. He was pretty sure if he didn’t keep his feelings and emotions under strict control, strict discipline, he’d be the next one the cops picked up. Every once in a while that anger burned bright and loud, his vision would go dark and there’d be a ringing in his ears, pounding in his chest, and a paralyzing fear in his brain.
It was a hell of a situation to be in. Trying to live up to the man Cash had raised him to be, and the man he was destined to become. All the while he had the woman of his dreams tempting him every time he turned around. She might think she was all grown up and ready for him but he wasn’t ready for her. He wanted to be, so badly, but deep inside there was always that question he couldn’t answer, would he ever be? He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to withstand her advances.
And God above, he knew he should.
His cell rang from the pocket of his duffle bag and he was tempted to ignore it. New Year’s Eve seemed to also be lonely girl eve. Every girl he’d ever dated had texted him today to see what he was doing tonight.
Something made him pull his glove off and pick up the phone. Addie… the screen displayed the name of Tyler’s daughter. She never called him, she never would, unless something was wrong with Tatum.
Immediately his heart was pounding and he couldn’t swipe his thumb across the screen fast enough. “Yeah,” he answered, the word hoarse in his throat. The fear cutting him off at the knees. In his blood he knew something was wrong with her, just didn’t know what.
“Remy, it’s Tatum,” Addie said over the line. “I need help with her. We’re at a party, and she’s drunk. I don’t know how I’m going to get her home.”
His stomach churned as Addie gave him the address, getting even more pissed when he realized they were on the university campus. Didn’t either one of them know what the fuck could happen to them, alone, at a party like that? Especially if they’d both been drinking. He’d let Tyler take care of his daughter, but he would take care of Tatum. Hopefully she’d know not to scare him again after this.
“I’ll be right there. Under no circumstances do you go any further than the sidewalk in front of that house,” he hung up, adding in his head. And I’m going to smack that ass of hers once I find out what the hell she’s done.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Tatum’s heart beat through her chest as she followed Gavin upstairs to a much quieter part of the house. Her mouth was dry – the result of her nerves, or the alcohol she’d consumed – she wasn’t sure which. Her hand gripped Gavin’s tightly, but she knew it wasn’t because she was excited, it was because she wanted to yank on it, and sto
p him from leading her into the empty bedroom. Part of her wanted to put a stop to it, the other part wanted to go through with this so she could throw it in Remy’s face. Those stubborn traits she’d inherited from her dad were alive and well tonight.
She glanced over her shoulder, spotting Addie pulling out her phone and making a call. The worried look on her friend’s face told her all she needed to know. Addie was probably calling in reinforcements and her time had suddenly become very limited.
“You feelin’ good?” his deep voice questioned in her ear, causing her hair to stand up and goosebumps to appear on her arms. This time it was different than when those two reactions happened for Remy.
She nodded and leaned in, putting her mouth on his neck. “Really good.”
God, she hoped she was convincing him she was into this – when nothing was further from the truth.
They came to the end of the hallway too soon for Tatum and he was pushing them into a room, closing the door behind them. Tatum pressed her back against the door as far as she could, willing herself not to run away. She glanced at Gavin, thinking there could be worse looking guys she could pick to help her get rid of her virginity. Actually, he was good looking, he had no trouble getting and keeping women for a night. He was tall, leanly muscled, had the beginnings of a sleeve tattoo on his right arm, and his hair was in this growing out stage where it looked like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to cut it or keep going. His face bore the effects of the late hour, showing a fine stubble of blonde, almost brown whiskers. Yeah, he was hot and he knew it.
But he wasn’t Remy.
Her eyes met his and she watched as he started taking off clothes, motioning for her to do the same. Tatum had known what would happen as she soon as she came into this room, and she was ready. It had meant something with Remy. She’d wanted it to mean something with him, but he’d rejected her, had thrown her feelings back in her face. Now she wanted to prove to herself that sex, shedding her virginity didn’t have to mean any damn thing at all.
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