Page 587 of Tease Me


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Charlie had dreams about what her nimble little tongue would feel like licking a trail down his chest straight to his dick.

Not here, dumbass.

With a groan, he adjusted his dick in his shorts just as she turned and noticed him there inside the door. Their eyes met. Murphy’s Brews was closed, of course, but Charlie knew his mom had told her she was welcome to hang out after hours. It was likely that his mom was in the stock room, but at the moment, he and Tatum were alone for the first time since she’d stalked out of her living room naked and locked him out of her bedroom.

“My mom here?” he asked her, his voice gruff and harsh.

“In the back,” she answered with a nod.

“Great. You wanna let her know Breena’s coming tonight and wants to talk to her?”

Tatum’s soft snort could have been one of amusement. Maybe it was disbelief that he would ask something of her.

“Sure. Did you get the message earlier to call Pete?”

“I talked to Pete.” He nodded.

She stood slowly and tucked her hands in her pockets. Dressed in skinny jeans and a sleeveless blouse, she looked a little sophisticated. A lot sexy. But she didn’t give off the raging sex-kitten vibes she’d shown him the last time they were alone together.

“Look,” she huffed out a harsh breath and squeezed her eyes closed, “I owe you—”

“You don’t owe me a damned thing, Tatum,” he interrupted her. He had zero desire to hear her ramble some half-assed apology. So, she’d used him. No fucking way he’d let her make it worse by apologizing for not wanting more from him.

“Charlie—”

“See ya tomorrow.” He turned his back on her and walked out to find Pete. Had she lingered there just to throw an apology at his feet? Did she really think that would make him feel better? Or was she trying to absolve herself of the guilt she felt?

Whatever. He wasn’t going to beg for anything.

He found Pete in the kitchen at 515. Vianne leaned on the stainless-steel counter as he stacked the small medicine bottles, already filled with the sample pours, into the box to carry them next door.

“Hey, Charles.” She looked up at him with a grin. “You ready for some Irish whiskey?”

Honestly, he was ready for a bottle of tequila and a night of solitude. Unfortunately, he was about to spend the evening with his whole family, his parents included. While he loved his family, and they were all known for a good time, bumping into Tatum just now had put him in a foul mood.

“Yep.” He nodded. The less he said to Vianne, the better. All the damned women in his family were too damned smart. They could read a chapter’s worth of thoughts in a one word greeting. Even now, Charlie hunched his shoulders, ready for Vianne to launch into some lecture about him needing more sleep or God forbid, needing to get laid. He’d sat through that one a time or two.

“I need to shut things down over here,” Pete told him. “You wanna take the box on over?”

“Will do.” He took the box from his brother and headed out not listening to the chatter between them. Tatum and Everleigh sat at Tatum’s usual table when he went back to the coffee house.

What the fuck was she still doing here?

He shot Everleigh a smile and put the box down on his mom’s counter, determined to ignore Tatum until she left.

To his chagrin, she didn’t leave.

When the room was packed, and Charlie’s whole damned Irish family was there, Tatum was still sitting at the table with Everleigh. Unfortunately, his mom had joined them, and where his mom went, his sisters followed. If Tatum decided to announce to them that he’d come at her and torn her up that evening in her apartment, he’d have five angry women on his ass.

She didn’t seem the type to tell secrets. Not to a whole table full of women. But then who knew what she might do if she was drinking. Liquor was the ultimate truth serum, right?

Not to mention that she didn’t seem like the type to engage in hard, angry sex. And she’d made the first move. She’d been the one to climb on him and pull his shorts out of the way and go for his dick.

Tell that to his fam—no, don’t tell that to his family.

Charlie gave himself a mental shake and focused on Pete who now rattled about the color and clarity of the first pour. At the front of the room, far away from his sisters and mom, Charlie sat with his brothers and studied the color of the O’Sullivan Twelve Year. It wasn’t his favorite. He preferred the fifteen year and even more than that, he liked the cask strength. But he was happy to turn his brain off and let Pete lead him through the nose and the tasting notes.

A low roar of conversation buzzed around the room the entire night, even when Pete was talking. The 515 club had already grown twice its starting size, and they weren’t even in the 515 building yet. It was a good night out—good whiskey at a good price for several tastings. Good time to catch up with friends and family. Win a rare bottle in a raffle.

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