She gave him a dirty look. “Ya, sounds great … no pickle this time though.”
He was still laughing as he walked over to her to help her sit up and get dressed. She was embarrassed as he slid her pants back on, but also so grateful. As he slid her shirt down over her, he straightened the hood and kissed her on the lips again. “I love you Tate,” he said, looking into her eyes.
“I love you too,” she smiled, not knowing if she’d ever said those words to another person before in her life.
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
Before they left the room, she got him to get her toothbrush out of her bag. She tried to get herself put together the best she could in her current state before seeing the others.
She found him, the boys, Phil, Donna, and Jeannie in the living room. The kids were playing quietly in the corner with some Lego’s. Connor was trying to sneak one into his mouth but Matthew kept knocking it out, which they both found hilarious and utterly amusing. Even Donna, who had never been a ‘kid person’, was smiling fondly at them. They all turned to look at her as she walked out of the hallway.
“Ah there’s my girl,” Phil said, his accent more pronounced on the ‘R’s.
Tatum smiled and took a few strained steps toward them. Jager and Phil stood at the same time to help her, but Phil got there first. He held her hand and walked her to the couch, helped her to sit. Connor immediately scooted his onesie-clad bum back so that he was pressed against her legs as he continued to play with his brother. She couldn’t for the life of her understand what it was that he liked her so much for.
“Did you sleep good Tate? You were out for a while this time hey?” Donna asked and Tatums head shot up to look at her, waiting for her to hint that she knew what they’d been up to. When she saw that her mother was sincere, she just smiled. Phil smiled at her then too and Tatum knew that they had no clue. She looked over at Jager, felt his eyes on her and when she did she saw that he was beaming. He could hardly hold his smile back. He ran his hand over his stubble, squeezing it around his chin. He pulled his hand away and looked at it for a second before shaking it out, as if it were wet and then wiping it on his thigh, all the while grinning mischievously at Tatum.
Her expression finally pushed him over the edge and he laughed loudly. She knew her cheeks were blazing red, and that was what Jager found so funny about her: this so-called hardcore mobster-woman, who could be embarrassed so easily. Donna and Phil just smiled at him, blank faced but Jeannie had been watching him the whole time. It took her a second, but one look at Tatums face and she knew what went down.
Tut. “Gross,” was all she said before standing and walking into the kitchen.
Tatum gave him a meaningful look, to show him she was pissed but he was in such a good mood that she couldn’t stay mad for long.
She stayed up visiting for a while. One of the guys went out for burgers, as Jager had asked him to. She was grateful when everyone left. Donna had decided to take Phil up on his offer of staying at his place. Tatum didn’t want to think about that too much. Ew.
Recovery was going to be a long process. She didn’t realize how much until the next day. She’d never been the type of person to sit around. Between the clubs and the guns, she was always on the move, however, the broken bones, more or less, rendered her useless. After breakfast she told Jager that she was going to hop into the shower.
He was distracted by cleaning up some spilled juice that Matthew had knocked over, so he just nodded, forgetting that she would likely need some help. He heard the shower turn on and assumed that all was well. He sat down and helped Connor eat some yogurt.
After no more than three minutes, she shut off the water. He listened carefully but heard nothing and figured she’d gotten in the bath. When fifteen minutes passed, he walked over and knocked on the bathroom door, “Tate, is everything ok?” He was met with silence and grew paranoid before he heard her sniffling.
She knew better than to lock the door, with her condition. When he opened, he found her sitting on the toilet, fully dressed, eyes red from crying. “Jesus Tate! What did I tell you about calling out to me?” He bent down in front of her, resting his weight on the balls of his feet, holding her knees for support.
Sigh. She sniffed again. “I hate being such an invalid,” she shook her head. “The shower will get my cast wet. I can’t wash myself with this on. I can’t sit down in the bathtub because it’s so far down and hurts my ribs… What am I supposed to do?”
Jager couldn’t help but smile at her. “You ask for help,” he raised his eyebrows.
“How can you help? You have to keep an eye on the boys,” she snapped, sounding snarkier than she intended.
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called May. While it was ringing, he turned on the bathtub and began filling it. While he was talking to his nanny, he motioned for Tatum to check the temperature, which, to her, was more suited to that of a couple of little boys. Just luke warm. She liked it piping hot. He hung up the phone and walked out into the kitchen where he finished feeding Connor the last spoonful of yogurt, wiped his mouth, and put him in the living room.
“Keep an eye on your brother for a minute ok Matt? I need to help Tate.” He walked back into the bathroom to find her still in the same position, her eyes having dried a little.
“I hate this,” she said.
Jager frowned at her, “what?”
“I’m keeping you from them. They love being with you and here I am, a bigger baby than they are.”
He turned off the water and looked at Tatum. “If you don’t quit feeling sorry for yourself I’m going to drown you,” he smiled and began taking her shirt off, slowly. “Have you seen my kids? They are happier than they’ve ever been. Before you, they might have seen me for a couple of hours a week. Their mother took them from me. Before that, she wouldn’t leave me alone with them. Now, they’re sick of me! You’re my whole world Tate. And their’s too.”
She smiled back at him, accepting his words right before the front door opened and she heard Mays voice. She’d never been more grateful that the woman lived just two doors down.
He held up his finger, and went out to the living room to greet her and fill her in on what he needed her for. Within a minute he was back and helping Tatum stand up so he could take off her pants. He slid them over her thighs, down her knees, and then over her feet, looking up at her mischievously. Stepping into the tub was fine but when she had to sit, she needed Jager to help. He held her arms and slowly lowered her into the water. She sighed contentedly at the effects of the warmth. He grabbed a plastic cup from the side of the tub and began pouring water over her back and chest. She watched him the whole time, as he lathered up her good arm with a bar of soap, massaging her with his fingers as he worked it into her skin. Never once did he slink away from any of her bruises.
He helped her to sit up and began washing her back, gently, but with much more expertise than she would have imagined, obviously from years of bathing two rowdy boys. He rinsed off the soap with the cup before having her lean back again. When he began rubbing the soap over her chest, he made eye contact and his sneaky, mischievous grin returned. He lathered his hands and rubbed them over Tatum’s neck and shoulders, all the while smiling like a dirty minded teenager.
Before he began on her breast, he leaned in and kissed her, his tongue softly caressing hers. “This is going to be the best bath you’ve ever had,” he said, smiling against her lips. She felt her cheeks flush and her nipples grow hard. She couldn’t help but smile back at him. He worked the bar of soap between his hands and slid one over her left breast first, then the right. Involuntarily, her eyes closed. She moaned as she slid down into the tub further. He pinched her nipples, rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers to the point that it was almost painful. Tatum tilted her head back, arching her back as best as she could, pushing them further into his hands. Keeping one on her right breast, his left hand slid slowly down her torso, taking extra care as he rubbed his so
apy hands over her ribs. In the light of the bathroom, he could see how much worse the bruising was then he originally thought.
He massaged the soap into her stomach, twirling his thumb around the outside of her belly button in a way that had he been any other person would seem funny, but to her, it was erotic. The way his long fingers were splayed out on her skin, his palm resting just above her pubic bone. Just like that, she was soaking, and it had nothing to do with the water in the bathtub. Jagers other hand slid away from her breast and up her neck. She watched him. He always looked like he knew something and wasn’t telling her. Like, there was a funny secret that only he knew. The way his eyes crinkled up at the corners, like everything about her he found amusing. His lips were always smiling, even when he wasn’t trying.
He pressed them to hers then as he began his slow, torturous decent to the one place she craved him the most. This kiss was softer, needier. His tongue stroked hers before he grabbed her bottom lip between his teeth and licked it, sucked it, and then deepened his kiss. They were both breathing heavily as his fingers found their place. Tatum sighed against his mouth as he rubbed the soap into her, closing her eyes and sliding down another little bit, pushing his hand onto her harder.
Jager smiled, his forehead on hers. “You like that?” he asked devilishly.
Tatum nodded, releasing the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as he pushed two fingers inside of her. He worked her over better than she could ever remember. It was less than two minutes before she came crumbling down around him. She wondered idly where he learned to do that so good, but then pushed the unwanted thought to the back of her mind.
When she was done, Jager kept on, lifting her legs in the air, one at a time and washing them, as if nothing happened. The only tell tale sign he’d been witness to, responsible for her brain numbing orgasm, was the smug smile on his lips. He finished up on her toes and picked up the cup to give her another rinse when Tatum burst out laughing. He looked around, trying to figure out what it was that was so funny but came up short.
“You alright?” he asked, trying hard not to laugh back at her as tears rolled down her cheeks.
She covered her eyes with her hand, tried to reign herself in with deep breaths and gain some composure but not before her eyes darted to the end of the bath once more and she lost it again.
Taking a deep breath she pointed to the toys lined up by the faucet. Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz from Phineas and Ferb stood with bad posture, the fingers of one hand pressed together with the same ones on the other hand as he grinned evilly toward Tatum while Ninja Turtle Leonardo held a hand to his mouth, his eyes wide and his lips forever hanging open in shock at what he just bared witness to.
Jager caught on then and started laughing uncontrollably with Tate. His poor kid’s toys were indefinitely corrupted.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
When she was all dried off, in some clean clothes and feeling better than she had in weeks, Tatum and Jager left his room to find May sitting at the table having a cup of Tea with Donna, who’d apparently just arrived moments before. Matthew was playing with his Lego’s as usual, and Connor was down for a nap.
“Hey, Mom,” Tatum smiled as she walked, better than yesterday, toward the kettle to pour herself a cup of tea. Maybe orgasms were the trick to recovery she thought and smiled.
“How are you feeling?” her mother asked. “You’re looking better.”
Jager walked in then and patted Donna on the shoulder, “see, I told you I could take care of her.” He pulled out the third chair for Tatum. The other one was pressed to the wall behind and along with the table. The kitchen was too small to have more than three chairs anyway. Rather than making the women move so that he could pull the table out, he grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and hopped up on the counter.
“I forgot to give this to you the other day Jager,” Donna said and pushed an envelope on the table toward him, smiling sympathetically. Tatum looked at them both quizzically. Donna shrugged as Jager picked it up and laid it on the counter next to him. He smiled, and she assumed it was nothing important.
He didn’t know how much she remembered about the night they found her. Didn’t know how much she was told about what had happened, however he wasn’t about to let any of it ruin her good mood. She was recovering remarkably and he hoped it was because of him.
The rest of the week went smoothly. Tatum and Jager fell into a pattern. Showers, bed, doctor’s appointments, and by Friday, she was walking to the park with him and the boys, albeit slowly and on pain meds. She began doing therapy on her wrist every day. Apparently she was healing remarkably well, and the break wasn’t as bad as they originally thought. Her thumb was fine and her doctor expected a full recovery, her ribs included within three weeks.
She knew the doctor’s good news meant she would be well enough soon for the good stuff. She fantasized about them being together, finally. Even woke up a couple nights, sweaty and aching for him after dreaming about it. The fooling around, hands and mouth stuff, wasn’t enough for him anymore either. He craved her. Just her touch was enough to get him hard. It didn’t even need to be sexual. If she walked past him in the kitchen while he was sitting at the table and brushed her fingers across his shoulders, he pictured her in bed. Rubbing her foot up his leg while watching TV, he was nearly finished.
Everything was so good. He was waiting for the ball to drop. Knew it was about to. He’d missed his court hearings for Victor’s murder. He couldn’t bring himself to leave Tatum. He knew it was his fault that she was in the mess she was in, and he wanted, needed, to be there for her. He wasn’t going to miss a day. He knew that any day the cops or a bounty hunter would show up at his door to take him back to jail. He didn’t tell Tatum. Couldn’t bring himself to.
Sitting on the floor one night, playing with the boys, he knew who it was the second they knocked on the door. Tatum, with Connor in her laps, looked up at him questioningly. They weren’t expecting anyone at this hour. Taking a deep breath Jager walked to the door and opened it to find Charlene and two other officers standing there. They walked in and Tatum immediately stood and propped Connor on her hip.
“You know why we’re here Jager?” Charlene asked him. He looked to Tatum and she could see it on his face.
“What is this?” she asked quietly, taking a step toward him. Matthew had stopped playing and looked up at his father, surround by cops. He was on the verge of tears and Jager knew it. He wanted to walk to him, and tell him everything was ok but he knew he couldn’t.
One of the other officers grabbed his hands and pulled them behind his back. “It’s ok Matt, buddy. Daddy will be fine. Everything will be fine,” he said as his son began to cry out loud. Fat tears sliding down his cheeks. He stood and ran toward his father, but Tatum intercepted him, pulling him close to her and hugging him into her leg. Connor, taken aback by the commotion and the reaction of his brother, began to cry as well and to reach for his father.
“I’m sorry Tate. Call May, and my lawyer. Please,” he said as the other cop came to stand in front of him.
Charlene came to stand next to Tatum. She knew that her ribs weren’t fully healed yet, however Tatum couldn’t move to put Connor down. She was frozen.
“Jager Ryan…” the cop began, “you are under arrest for the murders of Victor Porter and your wife, April Ryan. You have the right to remain silent…”
Tatum’s head shot up at the same time that Jagers did.
“What did you say!” he demanded, looking from Charlene and Tate to the officer speaking to him. “I didn’t kill my wife,” he said, just more than a whisper. “I didn’t kill my wife!” he yelled now as the cop tried to push him out the front door.
The boys were inconsolable at this point. Matthew cried, “Daddy, don’t leave us too!” and Tatum’s knees felt weak and then gave out completely. She sat on the floor, hugging Connor and Matthew to her chest as they screamed for their father. Charlene
squat next to her, rubbing her back although she didn’t feel it.
“… I didn’t kill her Tate! I didn’t kill my wife!” was the last thing Tatum heard before the car door shut and they drove away.
More to come with Tatum and Jager in the next segment of the ‘Authority’ Series. Stay tuned!
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Altering Authority Page 14
