Tempting Tatum (22 page)

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Authors: Kaylee Ryan

BOOK: Tempting Tatum
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“Would you mind following me home and laying with me until I fall asleep? No funny business, I promise. I just…want you to stay until I fall asleep.” I don’t say I need her next to me or how after only one night of her in my arms, I ache to have her there again. No, I won’t tell her that. I want her to agree to this.

“Just until you fall asleep?” she clarifies.

“Yes. I just want you to lie with me, and then you can go.” I turn my head and place a soft kiss on the palm of her hand.

“Okay. I’ll just follow you there?”

I immediately embrace her against my chest. “Thank you, baby,” I say before releasing her and walking her to her car.

As I’m opening her door for her, I yawn. Damn, I’m beat. I wait for her to get inside before I shut the door. I watch as she buckles her belt before walking away. I’ve seen too many accidents from being on the department. Safety first.

Even though I’m exhausted, I practically run to my truck. Tatum in my arms, in my bed. I can’t get there fast enough.

 

 

 

As I follow Blaise to his house, I call Leah to take my mind off what I’m about to do.

“Hey girl! Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” she says in greeting.

“Hey. Yeah, I am, but Harry asked me to meet with the fire chief to discuss fundraising,” I tell her.

“So did you see Blaise while you were there, or is he even there? He’s only volunteer right?” she fires questions at me.

“Uh, yeah he was there. I’m actually on my way to his place.” Might as well get it out there. Maybe she can talk some sense into me before I get there.

“Okay…And why are you on your way to his place?” Leah asks.

“Funny story. Steve had a meeting; I just popped in at Harry’s insistence. Blaise was there and he asked me to stop by for a while.” I’m being vague and I know she can tell. She’s about to call my ass out. I can tell by the sounds she’s making.

“Are you going to share with me the meaning of this little field trip?”

“Uh…well…Blaise, he said he didn’t sleep well last night and he sorta said it was because he slept with me the night before.”

“Holy shit! You’re gone two whole days and I miss all the good stuff. Start talking missy,” she instructs me.

“When we left the bar Saturday night, I fell asleep in the truck. I tried to seduce him; he shot me down. I cried at his rejection. He said it was because he wants more from me and then I asked him to stay. He held me all night; the end,” I say in a rush. Partly because I want to get it out and over with and partly because I’m afraid Leah will interrupt me and we’re getting close to his place.

“And?” she asks. Leah knows me so well.

“And last night, he claims he couldn’t sleep. He asked if I would come home with him and lie with him just until he falls asleep. I said yes,” I mumble the last part.

“I knew I liked that guy,” Leah gloats.

“Wait. What? You’re supposed to talk me out of this. Tell me I’m crazy and this is all too soon.”

“That is so not happening. Tate, you have been through so much these last few months. You’ve spent time with him. You work with his mom. You live with his sister. I have a good feeling about this. Blaise is one of the good ones.”

“I thought Josh was a good one too,” I remind her.

“Josh was a dick. You guys were hardly together. He never once looked at you the way Blaise does.”

I let the last comment slide. “My heart can’t take any more. I’m afraid the next time, I won’t be able to bounce back.”

“Tatum Marie Thompson. Life is filled with heartbreak. You have lived through more than most, but you survived. You’re strong and you have to open yourself up to the possibility of the pain to find the true happiness. They would want you to find love, a love like they shared. I have a good feeling about Blaise. He could be the one your mom was always talking about,” she says gently.

“He fixed me breakfast. Yesterday, while I was showering, he made me breakfast.”

“See, like I said, a good one. How many times did Josh make you breakfast?”

I don’t answer and I don’t have to. Leah knows the answer. Never. Josh wasn’t a real affectionate guy.

Blaise pulls into his driveway and I pull in behind him. “Leah, I just pulled in. So I’ve gotta go,” I say quickly as I watch Blaise climb out of his truck.

“Okay, be safe and follow your heart. Tell your head to fuck off,” she instructs me.

“Love you, Leah.” I hit end on my phone just as Blaise opens my door. He holds his hand out of for me. I place mine in his and he helps me out of the car. He leads me to the front door.

“Asher and I live here together, but lately he’s been at Grace’s more than he’s here. It’s been weeks since he’s actually stayed here,” he explains.

The house is a brick ranch with a two car attached garage. He leads me inside and it’s not what I was expecting. The house is clean and inviting. You can tell two bachelors live here, but at the same time, it feels like a home.

“I want to show you around, and I will. But right now, I just want you in my arms,” he says, leading me down a long hallway. His room is decorated much like what I’ve seen of the rest of the house. White walls, tan carpet. He has a black and cream bedspread that covers his massive king sized bed.

Blaise kicks off his shoes and pulls his shirt over his head. He pulls his pager, which I assume is because he is on call and his cell phone out of his pants pocket. He empties the other pocket, which consists of his money clip. He unbuttons his jeans and lets them slide to the floor.

Holy freaking hotness!
Blaise in boxer briefs is a site to behold. Surely this is to be an experience I will never forget. His colorful tattoos encasing his arms and his eight pack; yes, I said eight. My eyes make their way to the V of his hips and I lick my lips.

“Tate, as much as I want to stand here and let you keep fucking me with those beautiful green eyes of yours, I’m dead on my feet.” He comes to stand beside me. “Kick off your shoes,” he whispers.

At this point, I would walk around and cluck like a damn chicken just to be able to keep looking at him. He truly is male perfection at its finest. I do as I’m told and kick off my shoes. I’m wearing khaki pants and a short sleeve sweater. I briefly wonder if he’s going to ask me to take those off as well.

“Do you need something to lay down in so you don’t wrinkle your clothes? You have to go back to work right?” he asks. “Wait,” he says.

He quickly walks to the other side of the bed and picks up his phone. I have no idea what he’s doing and really I don’t care. I’m just taking in the view. I hear him say Harry and I try to focus on the conversation. I hear Blaise tell Harry he ran into me at the firehouse and his dad had a meeting. He proceeds to tell him he has a lot of ideas for fundraising and asked if I could join him.” Harry says something I cannot hear. Then Blaise says, “Great, thanks so much, Harry. I’ll tell her.” He hits end on his phone and places it back on the nightstand. Walking to his dresser, he pulls out a t-shirt and tosses it to me. I hold it up. It’s a Murfreesboro Fire t-shirt; on the back is says RICHARDS.

“Harry was thrilled we’re working together on fundraising ideas. He said after we’re done, to take the rest of the day off. He’s says things are slow,” Blaise informs me.

“But…I can’t just miss work,” I reason.

“You can. Boss’s orders. Harry is a great guy to work for. Besides, Mom says you are so efficient that you have everything organized and running like a well-oiled machine. It’s just one day,” he says.

I hold the t-shirt up. “And this?” I ask.

Blaise is at my side in two long steps. “This is my shirt. I want you to be comfortable. I want you to stay with me today. I really do have some fundraising ideas, but more importantly, I just want to spend the day with you.” He runs his hands up and down my arms. “I’m going to go get a bottle of water while you change. Can I get you anything?” he asks.

“Water, please.” And just like that, my decision is made. I want to spend the day with him, too. I want to feel that peacefulness I feel every time I’m in his arms, and it looks like I’m going to be doing it in his shirt.

 

 

 

I leave the room so she can change. I thought for sure she would fight me. I really do just want her to be comfortable and well, I want to see her in my clothes. The thought of her in my shirt causes my dick to twitch. Shit, this is not what I need. She’s not ready and I’m exhausted. I meant what I said; I need for her to be able to give me everything. I want all of her. I’m not sleeping with her until I get it. Yes, it sounds crazy. I know this, but Tatum is different. I already know from just the taste of her lips that one night would never be enough.

I take my time in the kitchen, giving Tatum plenty of time to change. The bowl and spoon from my morning cereal is in the sink so I wash them quickly. The laundry room is just off the kitchen so I fold the load of towels I washed last night.

Not willing to wait any longer, I retrace my steps back to the bedroom. As I walk through the door, I see Tatum standing beside the bed wearing my shirt. She’s holding a picture of my family, the five of us. It was taken at last year’s Fourth of July party. The sight of her takes my breath away. I take her in. The shirt, my shirt, the one that has my last name sprawled across the back is now the only thing covering Tatum. My eyes continue onward. I’m trying to memorize everything, how the shirt ends and the creamy soft skin of her legs begins.

My fingers are tingling and my arms are aching to hold her. My heart flutters in my chest. I know it’s soon and I know it sounds fucking crazy as hell, but I’m in love with this girl. As if she knows what I’m thinking, Tatum places the picture back on the nightstand and turns to face me, a slight blush covering her cheeks.

She smiles softly. “It’s a little big,” she says, pulling at the hem of my shirt.

I go to her because, really, not touching her when she’s here with me like this is just not possible. “You make it look good,” I tell her, placing a kiss on her temple. “You know what else you do?” I whisper in her ear.

She shakes her head telling me she doesn’t. “What?” she asks so softly I almost don’t hear her.

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