Authors: London Casey
Tags: #romance
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.
“That, you can feel,” he whispered into my ear.
I tried to mumble something, but it came out as a hopeless cry.
Tatum hadn’t let up at that point and when he slipped his right hand around my body, touching my other breast, I finally was able to cry out in intense pain and pleasure.
“Fuck,” I managed to say.
“That’s right,” Tatum said. “That’s what the pain is like. It’s like
fuck
.”
“Stop,” I mumbled. “I can’t take it...”
On command, Tatum’s fingers opened. His hand on my left breast was gone, my nipple throbbing, matching my racing heartbeat. I could sense his hand lingering close to my breast.
“Touch me,” I whimpered. “Make it feel good...”
“That I can do,” Tatum said.
He moved quick and with passion. Begging him - while sober - definitely worked on him.
I was on my back a second later and Tatum grabbed the bottom of my shirt. My stomach rushed up and down, fluttering in heavy breaths. His rough knuckles glided against my skin and I watched as my breasts were finally exposed for Tatum’s eyes and any of his desires. Of course I had this already planned the night before, but being drunk, as much as I hated to admit it, I may not have remembered it.
Tatum stared at me, his face almost in shock. When I saw my left nipple, I noticed it’s normal pink rose color was now deep red. The fair skin of my breast was a creamy color but the area around my nipple was red too.
“Look what you did,” I whispered.
“Maggie... you wanted it...”
Tatum showed no remorse and it killed me. I was so close to an orgasm, all I needed was him to touch me. Just touch me between my legs and I’d be done.
“Why did you do that?” I asked.
Tatum smiled and shook his head. He didn’t give me a reply. I watched his lips come down to my nipple, moving gently in circles. The feel of his soft lips was soothing. Then I felt the hardness of his lip ring and I shuddered, my hands gripping the sheets and thrusting my lower half up, desperate for him. His tongue came forward with a soft flick, just enough to bring back some of the pain, but not enough to make me uncomfortable. When his lips closed over my nipple, his tongue began an amazing massage. He pressed and moved in circles, somehow making everything feel right.
“Holy fuck,” I said. “I’m... I’m so close already...”
Tatum’s lips closed and he pulled back, bringing my nipple with him for a second before making a popping sound. He looked at me and smiled.
“You’re a liar,” he said.