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I took her home in the truck because walking looked too fucking difficult for her, which pleased the hell out of me. I even walked her to the elevator, where I kissed those lips and said goodbye.
Now... Well, now I’m sloppy in the ring. That would normally piss me off, but I don’t give a damn today.
Today, I’m on top of the fucking world.
***
I hold those same damn flowers in my hands I got her before, along with a bag full of shit from the drug store, as I slide the key card through the electronic lock and open the door.
She is lying on her stomach, face half-on and half-off a laptop. She doesn’t even look at me.
I set the shit down, walk around so I can see her face, and then push her hair back.
She’s sound asleep, and it’s only nine o’clock at night.
I pull off my shirt, toe off my sneakers, drop my pants, close the computer, and move it to the table before climbing in bed with her.
Her eyes flutter open, and she looks at me. “Hi.”
“Tired?”
She nods and starts to sit up.
“Let’s sleep.”
“Yeah?” she asks, resting her head on my chest.
I kiss the top of her head. She smells so fucking good
“Yeah,” I answer.
***
I wake up to her tracing her finger from one hip to the other, dick already hard and ready for her. For Tatum.
She looks at me, and then back at my abdomen. “What made you do this?”
I look down at the black words scrolled across my waist just above the god’s eye. “An eye for an eye. Self-explanatory.”
“I see,” she says, kissing it. Then she traces the flames on my hand, up my arm, tracing the chain. On top of all of it, a woman is bent backward with a chain around her waist as if she’s being pulled to Hell. “I want to erase this.”
“Can’t undo the past,” I tell her as she kisses my neck then lays a light one on my lips.
When I try to kiss her again, it’s reason is two-fold. I want to fucking kiss her, and I want to shut her up.
She bends and kisses my chest, then farther and farther down my waist where she pushes her hand under the covers, gripping me, not lightly, either. My hips thrust into her hand, and she pushes the covers back, leaning in like she’s going to suck my cock.
“Tatum, that’s not where I want you,” I say, trying to pull her up, but I can’t.
She starts to crawl over top of me, straddling me, beautiful bare ass in my face and then...
“Fuck.” I thrust into her mouth as she takes me deeper. Then I grip her ass harshly and groan before reaching between her legs and rubbing her pussy.
She’s wet, and I fucking want her to soak my beard.
I pull her back with a groan and demand, “On my face, Tatum.”
My cock falls out of her mouth. “I want to do this for you,” she says before taking me deeply into her mouth again.
I pull her back and place her where I want her, my mouth centimeters from her pussy. I push my tongue out and flick it against her lips, and she moans, mouth full of me, and then grinds against my face.
I am on fire for this woman. White hot fire for her taste, her touch, her every fucking thing she gives me. And I want more.
I pull her down harshly as I shove my tongue deep inside of her and lick, suck, and eat her hot little snatch as she sucks the life out of me.
Chapter Twenty - One
I lie in bed with my laptop in front of me, trying to focus on writing, but all I can think about is him, his story, his touch, his strength.
It’s been almost a week. Every free minute he has, we are together. I’m not complaining, but I’m also not sure how to process everything I’m feeling. This was supposed to be simple.
My phone pings with a text from Melanie.
You can’t ignore me forever.
I sigh. She’s right; I can’t.
Going to my contacts, I call her, to which she answers on the first ring.
“Tatum!” Her voice is strained with worry.
“Melanie, I’m fine.”
“I told you to come home. This guy, Tatum; it’s not safe.”
Leaning against the headboard, I save the document and close my laptop, telling her, “Melanie, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, but there is so much more to the man. Angelo, he has honor. He has his own moral compass.”
She gasps audibly. “I cannot believe you, Tatum Longley! Find a muse, write a romance—I didn’t say go fall in love with a felon!”
“It’s not like that,” I defend. “He’s not the bad guy. He was protecting his sister. He did his time for the crime he committed, and he has made a life for himself.”
