Page 28 of Only You

TWENTY-THREE

“Okay, so as much as I love the way you’re waking me up...” Tatum’s deep voice draws as I kiss down over his chest and then slowly back up to his mouth. “But why are we awake so early? We don’t have kids.”

I laugh. Tatum is so not a morning person. “It’s Christmas.”

“It is.” He grabs the back of my hair the way I not so secretly love and kisses me hard before pulling back and looking into my eyes. “But is there any reason to be awake before the sun?”

“There is, but first...” I kiss him again and then make my way down to his stiff cock which actually woke me up before my alarm, poking into me. Not that I’m complaining.

“Remy...” He sighs softly, his fingers threading through my hair. I free his stiff shaft from his underwear, sliding them down his legs before I take him all the way to the back of my throat and swallow repeatedly, knowing I’m driving him wild.

I wait until he’s nearly coming before I pop off his dick and then slide back up his chest. He starts to complain, but that’s when I slot his dick at my already slicked-up hole and start to bear down on him.

“Oh, holy fuck,” he groans, his hands going to my hips as I start to ride him. “Someone came prepared.”

“You’re a ridiculously heavy sleeper. I had three fingers inside myself, lying right next to you as you snored away.”

He whimpers as my hands slide over his chest. “Well fuck, wake a guy up next time, why don’t you? I watch in fascination as he brings his hand up to his mouth and uses his tongue to wet his palm before wrapping it around my bouncing dick.

“Yes,” I say, my head falling back as I take him into my body over and over, setting the pace he matches with his strokes on my shaft. I come first, and he follows soon after, his fingers digging into my hips as he pushes up into me while I slam down onto him, his cum filling me up.

I don’t want to move after that, but I force myself to drag him out of bed to the shower, where we, once again, can’t seem to keep our hands off each other.

We come together, each gripping the other’s cock as we eat at each other’s mouths and then get dressed and go into the kitchen for a quick breakfast.

We exchanged gifts last night before bed, but Tatum notices pretty fast that there’s a stack of presents by the door. His curiosity is obviously heightened. “We brought presents over to Kellan’s last night. Did you get them more?”

I mean, I was tempted to, actually. “No. I thought maybe you would want to join me for my Christmas tradition.”

“Of course.”

I love that he doesn’t even ask me where we’re going. He doesn’t even ask when we’re in the car and making our way downtown. But I feel like I should warn him, just in case he wants to back out. I wouldn’t blame him.

“I go to a group home every Christmas and hand out gifts. Not as nice of gifts as I’d like to, but I try to at least do something for each of them.” I sit nervously, my back stiff as I grip the steering wheel.

Maybe this was a bad idea. I mean, maybe Tatum doesn’t want to spend his Christmas in a place that was pretty much our hell growing up. This was stupid. Shit. He’s not saying anything.

I can’t force myself to look over at him, but the silence is making me squirm.

“Goddamn, you’re incredible.”

“What?” I almost jerk the wheel to the right when I turn to look at him but manage to keep the car on the road. “I’m not.”

But Tatum is unwavering, just taking one of my hands from the steering wheel and entangling our fingers together. “Yes. You are. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

I’m stunned stupid, so I just turn my attention back to the road, making our way to the group home downtown. Tatum helps me carry everything in and gets super into it, taking the two Santa hats I bought on impulse and placing them on our heads.

Tatum treats every child with respect—not that I’m at all surprised. And there are two brothers here who always make my heart ache a little. I come here at least once a month, just to check in and offer my time. To hang out with the kids.

I don’t think I have it in me to foster. I don’t think I could say goodbye over and over again, but these two brothers have been here for over three months. They’re impossible to separate. Only six and eight years old.

They cling to one another in a heartbreaking fashion. I’m glad they have each other, but they deserve the world. Sweet, shy little boys. I’m not sure what their backstory is, but I know better than to ask anyone about them. Though I find myself thinking about them quite a bit.

Wondering if they’re okay.

I watch as Tatum seems to make his way to them, handing them each a present to open. They both look at him with wide eyes and wonder—the same way I’ve always looked at him. And he seems to lighten the mood, making them smile and even laugh a couple of times using his Tatum charm.

I watch him with the kids and dream about one day when we get married—because I already know that’s where we’re headed—and about us having children someday. Maybe just like these little boys.

He makes his way over to me, smiling still. “They’re cute.”

I nod in agreement. “They are.”

“What’s their story?”

I shrug. “Everything is confidential. You know that.”

“You haven’t asked them?”

I scoff at that and shake my head. “No. I didn’t ask the poor traumatized children how they wound up here.”

He nudges me playfully, and I laugh. “Smartass.”

“All I know is they break my heart. They don’t belong here.”

Tatum’s eyes sweep around the room, which has bunk beds lined up, resembling a jail way more than a home for children. “No one belongs here.”

I take his hand in mine and squeeze it. “I’m sorry. Do you regret coming here?”

“Not even a little bit.” I can hear how earnest he’s being just by his tone. “I just want to do more.”

I nod my head knowingly. “Me too.” I sigh and kiss his cheek. “We have to get going. Phillip will be mad if we’re late for dinner.”

“Oh God, wait until you see the Christmas monster,” he teases and pinches my butt as we move toward the exit, waving goodbye to the kids.

I hate leaving them behind, but I know I’ll be back soon. I can’t seem to stay away, not that I really want to.

These kids—the forgotten kids of the world, kids just like me—they deserve everything. They deserve to hope, and when I go, I do my best to give them that. I tell them some parts of my story. I let them know about college and how they can have that if they choose to.

About making their lives what they want it to be.

But they also remind me where I’ve been and who I once was. I’m so grateful to them for that. On my weaker days when I start to doubt myself, I remember what I’ve been through and what I’ve accomplished.

And I’m proud.

Even more so, now that I have Tatum back in my life. Gone are the days where I wonder what it would be like to be kissed but being too afraid to try. When I feared a relationship because I feared the world and its cruelty.

I’m not afraid anymore.

That’s what Tatum has always done for me. Whether he meant to or not. Ever since that first day we met.

He gave me the strength to keep going. To hope.

And once I allowed myself to go after what I wanted, he also gave me the strength to love and love hard. To look back and remember that everything that happened led me here.

To him.