Torn to Pieces (The Boys of DownCrash #2) (new adult contemporary romance / rockstar romance) (8 page)

At least I passed out semi-happy.

~7~

When I felt someone touch me, I shuddered.  I moaned and shook my head.  All I could picture was some creep like Danny - or one of the other guys I led on night after night - finally making their move.  The cards turned on me.  Me too drunk to defend myself or flirt my way out of the situation.

“Maggie, relax,” a voice said.

I instantly relaxed.  The voice was sexy.  Smooth yet commanding.  My eyes fluttered and I opened them, the room still spun.  My mind began to race again, picking right up where it left off. 

But then I saw him, standing over me. 

“Tatum?” I whispered.

“Jesus, Maggie, what the fuck are you trying to do to me?”

He looked pissed off.  But my gosh was it the hottest pissed off face I’d ever seen.  I’d purposely fuck up for the rest of my life if it meant Tatum would look at me like he did right then.  His eyes were big and mean, like a rattlesnake ready to attack.  His touch, however, was caring and gentle. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I texted you and you never replied,” he said.  “I flew over here and the door was unlocked.  Are you crazy?  I thought something...”  Tatum exhaled, his warm breath spreading over my face.  It warmed me up. 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.  “You’ll get used to me letting you down.”

Tatum lifted me, wanting me to sit up.  As I stared into his eyes, the room finally stopped spinning.  The night started to make sense.  I lunged at Tatum, surprising him as my lips crashed to his.  My perception was just a little off and I felt my teeth hit the inside of my lip.  It stung for a second and I groaned but it didn’t matter, I was kissing Tatum.  The tip of my tongue couldn’t resist touching his lip ring.  I did and Tatum pulled back in a hurry, his eyes wide.

“Whoa, wait a second,” he said.

“Wait...?  For what?”

“Maggie, you’re wicked drunk right now.”

“Isn’t that how you like it?  A drunk chick all over you?”

Tatum smiled.  “Actually, I’m sort of all over you.”

I looked down and saw the position we were in.  Tatum leaning over my body.  His left arm outstretched on the bed, his right hand holding the back of my head.  My legs were open, perhaps something I couldn’t help because it was Tatum on top of me.

“Just do it,” I whispered.  “Please.”

“Do it?  Do what?” Tatum asked.

“Me,” I said.  “Right now.  Get it over with.”

Tatum pulled away from me as far as he could. When he let me go, I hurried and put my hands to my bed, balancing myself.  I blinked, trying to regain more than half the senses I had right then.

“Stay put,” Tatum said.

He stood and tried to leave.  I grabbed at Tatum’s back pocket, my fingers sliding right in.  He kept walking and it pulled me from the bed.  I cried out and fell to the floor in a heap of drunken mess.

“Fuck!” Tatum cried out.  He fell to his knees and had his hands back on my body.

I started to laugh and clapped my hands.

“Maggie, what are you trying to do?” he asked.

“I wanted to grab you,” I said.  “I wanted to touch you.”

Tatum sighed and then had his hands under my neck and my legs.  He lifted me with ease.  I wasn’t sure if it was a complement to my weight or his strength.  No matter what, it was super hot.  I wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled at him, wanting him to kiss me.  Isn’t that how it happened in the movies?  Then he could place me on the bed and...

“Did it hurt?” I asked, my voice slurring as I was about to fall asleep or pass out.

“Did what hurt?” Tatum asked as he bent down to place me on the bed. 

He started to back away and I had his shirt.  I looked at him and smiled.  I was turned on.  More than he could really know, but then again, all he had to do was touch between my legs to feel it.  Even if he left my panties on, he’d feel it... I was so wet...

“Your nipple ring,” I said.  “Did it hurt?”

“A little,” Tatum said. 

“Show me,” I said and started to lift my shirt.

In my mind, it was sexy and seductive.  Lifting my shirt, letting him bite on my nipples, enjoy my body.  Tatum put his hands to mine and shook his head.

“You need water first.  Then we can talk piercings and pain.”

I giggled and tried to grab at him again, but this time he made it out of the room.

The second he disappeared from sight, I knew what I had to do.  Maybe Scarlett was right after all.  Just go with it and enjoy Tatum, right?  If he was into my reputation and wanted to exploit it then fine, I could get into that, no problem.  If he wasn’t into my reputation and had some kind of heart of gold, or whatever, then he’d come back to a nice surprise.

I lifted my shirt over my head and reached behind for my bra.  How could a sexy drummer like Tatum resist a woman drunk and topless?  I had already begged for him, this would just make more clear what I wanted from him.

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 mouth. 

“I’m sorry,” I said.

Tatum touched his mouth, his lip ring, and then he said, “Get in bed.”