I finished scrubbing the last pan, and when I lifted it to rinse off the soap, the water hit it at the perfect angle, soaking the front of my shirt. I groaned; the irony of making it to the end before getting wet was not lost on me.
“Should’ve let me wash the dishes,” he teased with a goofy grin plastered onto his face. It appeared I wasn’t the only one enjoying the relaxation a beverage had to offer. “I guess this means you have to take off your shirt now, huh?”
“Or I could just go home and change.”
“That wasn’t an option.”
I set the pan in the other side of the sink and turned off the faucet. “Oh, yeah? I don’t recall being given options.”
“You had two—let me clean up, or take off your top. Since you wouldn’t move out of the way so I could wash while you perched yourself on the counter, that leaves you with the latter.”
“Interesting. There’s another option you’ve yet to offer, which is to lend me one of your shirts. It would be rather gentlemanly of you to do.”
He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth in thought. “I guess I could spare something. But don’t steal it. I know how you women are . . . nothing but thieves when it comes to men’s clothing.”
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Why would I want it, anyway?”
“To sleep in? Isn’t that why all you pilferers take them in the first place? To feel closer to us in your dreams?” He shrugged, clearly pleased with his playful arrogance. “Which, if I may say, is a complete rip-off for us men. Our clothes get far more action than we do. So I’ll let you know now . . . if you have any intention of stealing my T-shirt with the hopes of sleeping in it, think again.”
I finished wiping off the counter and turned on the exaggerated pout. “You’d really deny me that? I find that insensitive.”
“Nah, it’s reality, baby.” He put the pan away and slapped the towel over his shoulder. “If you want to feel closer to me while you sleep, you’re more than welcome to curl up next to me at night.”
“How generous of you.” I nearly choked on my words as he leaned against the stove, my mind too busy trying to turn off the switch to the images of him in bed. It was like one of those movie scenes where porn was playing on a computer when the boss walked in, and no matter what they clicked or pressed, the moaning wouldn’t stop. Yeah . . . just like that.
“What can I say? I’m a generous guy.”
His smile stopped my heart and warmed my insides. It also left me with damp panties. I wondered if he had any idea of the havoc he wreaked. Then again, from what Kelsey had told me about his younger days, there was a good chance he knew exactly what he was doing.
He flicked his head to the side and said, “C’mon, let’s get you dry.”
“What? I am dry. You didn’t make me wet.”
Singing in the middle of a very crowded restaurant was no longer the most embarrassing moment of my entire life.
Although thankfully, Jason didn’t taunt me—other than by dropping his gaze to the apex of my thighs before finding my eyes again, adding a single wag of his brows.
“Oh, this?” I tugged on the front of my top. “It’s just a few water spots.”
“Tatum . . .” His deep, throaty voice made me want to follow him to the ends of the earth. “Do you want a dry shirt?”
“Yes, that would be positively lovely. Thank you.” Apparently, my humiliation had turned me into an eighty-year-old British woman.
I followed him into his room, but while he moved to his dresser, I lingered near the side of the bed. It took everything in me not to sit on the mattress or sprawl out on top of the comforter. The wine had clearly served its purpose. I wasn’t drunk by any means, although I doubted I’d pass a Breathalyzer if I had to take one. I was at the perfect level of intoxication to go with the flow and hope the easiness between us lasted after a few bottles of water.
“This one should fit.” He brought over a folded T-shirt and handed it to me. “Feel free to change in here. And when you’re done, we can throw your shirt into the dryer. I’m sure it won’t take long if it’s the only thing in there.”
I haphazardly tossed the shirt onto the bed and then counted his steps until he made it to the door. “No need to leave. It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked already.”
As much as I loved the freedom wine offered, I hated how it often became a truth serum. I’d made it this long without bringing it up—which, to begin with, had taken monumental effort on my part. But after a bit, the initial embarrassment had waned, and it was no longer the first thought on my mind. That was, until he suggested I change in his room for privacy.
“What?” He stopped and turned to face me, his genuine shock making me pause—had I taken one second to realize my snarky remark would lead to a conversation rather than just making a point, I likely would’ve kept my mouth shut.
I’d said this much—no need to hold back now. “Today . . . you came to my apartment while I was sleeping. You saw that I was sleeping. I wasn’t wearing any clothes, which means you saw me naked. So there’s no reason for you to offer me privacy when you didn’t give me any earlier.”
“I used the restroom.” His voice was strained, and his jaw nearly clenched, profound emotion deepening his green eyes. “The door to your room was open. I saw you were in bed and that you weren’t dressed, so I closed it enough to keep from waking you.”
“You want me to believe that you noticed I was naked but didn’t take a peek at the goods?”
“Like I said, I saw enough to know you weren’t wearing anything. Beyond that, no. You didn’t give me permission, so I didn’t look.” Honesty stared back at me. “No one has the right to see those parts of you unless you allow them to, Tatum.”
His words hit me hard, like a curveball to the gut. They sang a beautiful melody in my ears and tempted me to dance along, my heart thumping to the beat. The desire to give him permission to see me now propelled me into action. I yearned to find the confidence amid the unease, so I grabbed the hem of my shirt and lifted it over my head.
He kept his eyes on mine, never dropping them—not even when I unclasped the back of my bra and let the straps slip down my arms. Other than his Adam’s apple bobbing like it was in a bucket of water at a carnival, he showed no sign of being affected by my breasts on full display.
After several long seconds of complete silence, reality smacked me in the face. I stood before him, naked from the waist up, and he hadn’t once shown any interest in admiring what I had to offer. Doing the only thing I could think of, I gasped and covered my chest with my hands.
It took less than two seconds for him to stalk toward me, closing the distance between us. At this point, I contemplated picking up my bra and shirt off the floor and running to my car, but the burning hunger in his stare kept me frozen in place.
Jason came to a stop in front of me, threaded his fingers into my topknot, and tilted my head back. His eyes locked on mine, and in them, I desperately searched for answers, for something to explain why he refused to do what any other man would—ogle my body like a starving hyena. Okay, maybe that wasn’t a sexy image, but I was lost in the unfamiliar sea of bravery, so I didn’t have much brainpower to work with.
“If you want me to look at you, Tatum . . . you have to tell me.”
I heard the words, yet their meaning seemed like a philosophical riddle, one I didn’t have the mental capacity to understand. Yet I couldn’t ask for clarification, because just then, his hand fell from my hair to my shoulder, where he softly traced my clavicle with his fingertip. Then dipped low, following the line of my cleavage before trailing the natural curve beneath my breast. The entire time he explored the sensitive flesh, his eyes remained on mine, held me hostage, and refused to let me go.
Every nerve ending was on fire. My legs were weak, my insides quivering, and untamed desire twisted low in my abdomen. I’d never experienced a need this strong, this powerful. If Jason could do this to me with a few ten
der strokes of his finger along my chest, I was desperate to find out what else he could do with other parts of his body . . . on other areas of mine.
In an instant, I reminded myself that I deserved this.
I deserved to feel, to let go and live.
No longer caring to hide myself from him, I fisted the front of his shirt, lifted myself to my tiptoes, and pulled his lips to mine. The last time I’d done this, I was too stunned and mortified to enjoy it. Now, without anything holding me back, I willingly immersed myself in the high his mouth offered.
It took only a handful of seconds before Jason released his restraint. Though I couldn’t exactly blame him. I mean, just a few days ago, I’d practically mauled him the same way, only to jump away as if ashamed and disgusted. So, I imagined he waited this time, making sure I wouldn’t do the same. And when I didn’t, he gave in.
Oh boy, did he give in.
When his tongue met mine, a moan reverberated in my chest. Oddly enough, I wasn’t the least bit embarrassed by it. And apparently, the sound of my excitement enticed him. He deepened the kiss, and his grip on my hips grew tighter as he pulled my body flush with his. The evidence of his desire taunted my lower stomach until I was practically feverish with need for him.
With one hand fisting the front of his shirt, I snaked the other over his shoulder to the back of his neck, where I held him close, keeping his lips on mine. And even though he had a firm hold on my body, I had just enough room to roll my hips against him.
As much as I enjoyed this tango we were in, if he didn’t do something soon, I’d likely lose all self-control—and quite possibly most of my self-respect as well. But I was incapable of translating what I needed from him, which only frustrated me, increasing my impatience.
He broke the kiss, yet he kept his lips close to mine when he whispered, begging, “Please, Tatum . . . ask me to look at you.”
My stomach was in my throat, making it hard to speak, but even that wasn’t enough to silence my words, the ones he yearned to hear. And nothing in the world had ever felt better than when I muttered, “For the love of fried rice, look at me, Jay.”
In an instant, he unleashed his desire, freeing the powerhouse I suspected he’d be. He lifted me up with a firm grip around the backs of my thighs, tossed me onto the bed, and stole a moment to take in every inch of bare skin, as if memorizing my every pore. When neither of us could waste another second, he crawled on top of me and settled his hips between my legs.
We were sideways, the head and footboard to our left and right, though I didn’t care. The where wasn’t important, unless it was in reference to the what on my body. In that case, only two places were acceptable, with one—the southern one—currently taking the lead in priority.
He trailed his lips from my jaw to my shoulder, down my chest until his tongue flicked my nipple. Suddenly, my bravery vanished, as if sucked out by an industrial-strength vacuum. I brought my arms up to cover my chest, and then I enticed him to return his attention to my lips.
Something needed to happen, and fast. We either had to take the rest of our clothes off, or I had to put mine back on. I still had a few brain cells that hadn’t succumbed to lust, which warned me of everything we risked by taking this further.
But there was a very real chance I’d give my core a complex by depriving it of what it wanted. I mean, it could only constrict around nothing so many times before it’d give up and tell me I was on my own from now on.
In the end, the future of my lady parts far superseded the chance of my best friend finding out I had offered her cousin my promised land. She’d eventually forgive me, whereas I’d never forgive her if I dried up like a desert.
It was time to take matters into my own hands.
And that’s literally what I did.
I ran my hand down Jason’s side to his hip, where I spent a few seconds toying with the waistband of his cargo shorts. Then I slid my fingers to the front, between our bodies, just enough to let my intentions be known. He pulled his mouth from mine and dragged his lips along my cheek. With our temples pressed together, he panted in my ear. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I even heard him whisper my name. If he didn’t, I pretended he did, because that was hot. And then he tilted his ass into the air, giving me the permission I didn’t exactly seek yet appreciated all the same.
The second I had his erection in my grasp, I cried out in both celebration and fright.
Until that moment, I wasn’t aware a man’s size could evoke both emotions—at the same time.
Luckily, he probably couldn’t hear me over his own satisfied groan.
11
Jason
Her palm was so soft, so small, so . . . warm. If I didn’t stop her soon, it would end before I ever took my shorts off. That hadn’t happened since puberty, and I would be damned if I allowed it to happen now.
I slowly pulled away, too selfish to make her stop yet fully aware she needed to. Well, more like I needed her to. Then again, she’d given me enough signals to confidently say she’d agree with me. I doubted she’d be okay if I finished in her hand. So I made my way down her front, dragging myself out of her hold until I knelt on the mattress between her legs. I tugged my shirt over my head and tossed it to the floor before dealing with the button on my shorts, and then the fly.
Desperation to be with her almost sent me over the edge of the bed rather than slipping off the side until my feet touched the floor. Yet I didn’t let the little fumble get to me. Gravity stripped me of my boxers and shorts while I focused on ridding Tatum of what little clothing she had left. In a perfect world, I’d have trailed my fingertips along the insides of her thighs, tempting her with what was to come. But this wasn’t a perfect world, and my throbbing erection wouldn’t allow me to drag this out any longer.
I hastily unfastened her denim shorts and then pulled them down her legs, taking her panties with them. Her soft gasp captured me like a warning I would be smart to heed. And as I made my way back onto the bed, between her bare legs, the sexiest purr reverberated in her throat. I was lost by that point. Thank God she was just as impatient as I was. Hell, I was so ready to be inside her I almost forgot to grab a condom from my nightstand before climbing back over her.
Rubbers were a necessary evil. They required forethought, and when the sexiest woman I’d ever seen sprawled out beneath me, any thought became a struggle. Not to mention, they took time. In the grand scheme of things, it was mere seconds at the beginning. Any idiot knew those few seconds at the end weren’t always reliable. So yes, necessary, yet that didn’t mean I rejoiced at the sound of the foil between my fingers or the feel of the latex rolling down my shaft.
Until this time.
For whatever reason, Tatum’s eyes widened ever so slightly with desire while she watched me open the packet with my teeth. And as soon as I placed the tip over the crown of my dick, she lost control of her breathing; her chest frantically rose with each desperate inhale, and then fell as each rushed exhale wafted past her lips. If this was my reward for using a condom, I’d never complain about them again.
I lined myself up and rolled my hips enough for the tip of my dick to sit just inside her entrance. She closed her eyes and curled her legs against my sides. After a few gentle thrusts, I felt confident she was prepared for me. But first, I had to take care of something.
I wrapped my fingers around one of her wrists and raised her arm over her head. Then I repeated the action with the other until nothing hid her breasts from me. She watched intently, though she never uttered a word.
“Tatum . . .” I exhaled against her lips as I finished filling her.
Her spine arched off the bed, and she gasped. I knew by how tightly her core gripped me that she needed a moment to adjust, so I lowered my lips to her exposed neck and licked a line to the spot just below her ear. It was enough to spur her into action. She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulled my body closer to hers, and then turned her face in search of my mouth.
“I
f you want something, baby . . . you’ll have to speak up. I can’t read your mind.” I wasn’t a fan of dirty talk; I found most of it distasteful and eye rolling. However, communication was important, so while I didn’t need her calling me Daddy or announcing that she was coming as if I wouldn’t know, a little guidance would’ve been helpful.
“Usually, this is the part when you move.”
I smiled against her lips and breathed laughter into her. That was definitely a first.
“Yes, ma’am.” I pulled out slowly, and in the same unhurried pace, I rolled into her again.
“I’m not a violin, Jason,” she protested in a hoarse voice. “Keep this up, and you’ll put me to sleep. Maybe no one’s told you before, but the term sleeping together isn’t literal.”
I wasn’t sure if I should be offended or find the humor in her teasing. But since I’d never had a complaint before, I chalked it up to her being cute and did as she demanded. Meeting her gaze, I smirked and slid back, then captured her sassy mouth and slammed into her. It elicited the sexiest moan from her throat.
It didn’t take long until she fought against my grip on her wrists. When I released her, she immediately took hold of my shoulders and rode out her first orgasm with her eyes shut, teeth gritted, and a strangled whimper ripping from her chest. It caused her to tighten around me so much that I wasn’t sure I’d last long enough to earn another from her.
“Shit, Tatum. That was so hot I need you to do it again for me.”
A lazy smile lingered on her lips while her eyes slowly opened. But the second I ran my hand up her stomach to her chest and circled my finger around her hard nipple, she was back on the defense. She covered my hand with hers and lowered her lids again, but this time, to guard her downcast gaze.
I stilled and took her mouth, hoping to bring her back. Tatum gave in enough to join the kiss, yet it wasn’t what I was looking for. Desperate for more, I slid out until I was on my knees in front of her. Her surprised stare lit a fire in my gut, and I had a feeling we were about to turn the tables on her shyness. I needed the sass, the snark, the part of her that was eager to be with me. And I wouldn’t quit until I had it back. Until it was just her and me in this room—her head filled with what I was doing to her and nothing else.
The (Half) Truth Page 14