Page 59

“Giving negativity room in your thoughts.”
“Oh, because it’s that simple?”
I rolled my eyes as I returned my gaze to the water, practically indistinguishable from the trees in the night sky.
It was easy for him to say some shit like that. He wasn’t the one fresh off a relationship he’d been in for all of his adult life. He wasn’t the one who’d been humiliated in public, strung along because his partner couldn’t just accept his truth. He wasn’t the one struggling with how to feel about it, worried he was handling it wrong.
He wasn’t the one enjoying the company of someone new a little too much.
“Come here.”
I closed my eyes, pretending I hadn’t heard. A moment passed, then something soft hit me on the ass.
Hard.
“What the fuck,” I muttered, turning to see one of my outdoor pillows on the ground at my feet, and Tatum wearing an innocent expression. “You’re annoying,” I declared, snatching the pillow up to put it back where it had been. Then I thought better of it and aimed it at his face.
Rookie mistake.
My actions brought me close enough for him to grab, easily pulling me into his lap.
I didn’t even bother fighting it, knowing from the workout videos of him my mother made me watch that there was no way I was going anywhere unless he wanted me to.
But really… I didn’t want to.
Tatum’s lap was actually quite a comfortable place to be.
I melted right into him, immediately, alarmingly, at home.
Now that the sun was down, it was chilly outside, and his hands were pleasingly warm; one resting on the lower part of my inner thigh, the other pressed against my belly from being tucked in his arms. And there was just heat coming from him too.
And heat from my overpoured wine that I gulped the last of to wet my suddenly dry throat.
“What can I do to bring you back to a good headspace,” he asked in a low, soothing tone right in my ear. He’d leaned in a bit to take my empty glass and put it on the side table next to his, and instead of sitting back, he stayed there, stayed close.
“What makes you think I’m in a bad headspace?”
“Uh… your whole mood shifting when you started talking about wasted time?” he said, planting a kiss on my shoulder through my sweater. “You thinking about that shit with Monty?”
I shrugged. “Why does it have to be that?”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “You’re right. We’re still getting to know each other, so maybe you do have some other mood-shifting area where you feel you’re wasting, or have wasted, your time.”
“Or maybe I would just rather be having sex than some deep conversation about my feelings?” I asked, not even knowing why that came out of my mouth. It had been a long time since the luxury of sex as a distraction from my problems was even at my disposal, since Monty wasn’t allowed to touch me.
Why now was it an option?
“No problem,” Tatum declared, and a moment later, his hand wasn’t on my inner thigh anymore. It was fully under my sweater dress, between my legs.
“Tatum,” I shrieked, scandalized as he used his other hand to grab my knee, pulling my legs wide open for better access.
“What?” he asked, very nonchalant as he rubbed my clit through my panties. “Is this not what you wanted?”
“I- ahhh,” I moaned as his fingers slid under the panties now, and inside me. He had both hands working, already had me making a mess.
“You keep joking about sex a distraction. Have you realized that?” he asked, while doing things with his fingers that made it impossible to pull together a coherent thought, let alone vocalize an answer. “I think it’s because you aren’t getting enough of it.”
He put his mouth to my ear, hands still busy.