Tatum

Safe and secure arms wrap around my waist, tugging me so my back is to his chest. The hard length of his dick is pressing into me, a teasing reminder of what’s to come.

He positions a few pillows, pulls a soft blanket over us, and leaves his arm under my neck. A shiver runs through me when he presses his nose into my hair, his other hand resting across my stomach.

I erupted into the unknown when Dean touched me with those hands I knew were a weapon of mass destruction. Controlling my body, dominating my mind. Making me forget all the while reminding me how much he wanted me.

My brain teetered on the edge when he talked dirty. Somehow, I think what he said is mild compared to what he was thinking.

I swallow the hard lump of emotion when I bend my arm and the dark purple bruises come into focus as they glow in the dark. The moon is hitting those painful marks just right. I hate seeing them there. The pain in my heart hurts worse than the bruises. I allow one silent tear to slide down my cheek.

There will never be a reason good enough for what Sam did to me. His vile confrontation, pitiful existence, and dire need to come up with a way to hurt Dean have gone too far. Never mind what he did to me. It’s what’s to come, the repercussions that worry me.

Dean isn’t going to stand and let Sam control this round. He’s going to demolish him, and it hurts me to admit I want Sam to pay in whatever way will cause him the most pain.

We’ve been here for a few hours now. Only got up to eat, use the bathroom a few times, then plop right back down. Dean trusted me with a story about Quinn Torrington. I’ve heard a few of her songs. Love her voice and can’t wait to meet her. I feel sorry for her being Sam’s latest victim.

“You feel good in my arms. You okay with us sleeping right here?”

“Yes.” I smile, exhausted from the bullshit weighing me down.

I’m going to fall head over heels for this man. I can feel the pounding on the door to my heart. It won’t be long before that boarded-up thing bursts wide open. “These awards, do I need a designer dress?”

Not once have I been downtown when the celebrities come out for these shows. Going all apeshit over them has never done a thing for me. The dresses, though, the hair, makeup, those are the things a woman like me loves to see.

“It doesn’t have to be. You can wear whatever you want.” I roll over. Press my lips to his and take. My starving body craves his kisses. Every single one has a raw intensity filled with yearning being exchanged in the mixture of our billowing breaths.

When our eyelids flutter open, I pull back enough to run my gaze over his face; I trace each thin line that crinkles at the corners of his eyes, study the darkness hidden behind them. He’s holding in so much pain it breaks me to see the way it stares back at me. I’d gladly take it all away if I could.

I yawn, snuggle as close to him as I can get, relaxing my body and settling in. I’m going to enjoy every moment of being in the comfort of his arms.

“I’ll do whatever I can to help you put the final nail in Sam’s proverbial coffin.” Those are the last words I remember saying before I fall into a deep sleep in his strong arms.

* * *

I take a deep breath and open my eyes to examine my appearance in the mirror.

Light shadow on my eyes, lips stained with a deep red, and my hair pulled into a basic French twist.

“You’re gorgeous, Tatum. The cameras are going to love you.” Erica pulls away from me, blinking lashes heavy with tears.

I’m not going to tell her that I’m not afraid of them loving me; it’s them criticizing, gossiping, and putting two and two together once they find out who I am. I know Sam will be one of the press behind the heavily guarded barriers separating them from the celebrities, and after his threats the other day, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he made a comment. The man has no respect, no morals, and doesn’t give a shit about anything but his job.

Erica flipped her shit when she saw the bruises that have now faded. I haven’t seen her that outraged since my heartbreak turned to anger after Sam and I split.

But I’m not going to let any of it bother me or ruin my evening. I’ve been looking forward to this award show since Dean asked me. More so after I decided to ask Leila instead of Joslyn to go shopping with me. We found the perfect dresses for both of us.

The cameras, the questions, and the fans will be all over the red carpet tonight. I wanted to look good but not appear as if I was trying to impress them. I couldn’t care less what they think. It’s Dean I care about, so when we walked into the store, this red dress caught my eye. The price tag not so much. I cringe thinking about how much it cost.

It’s a simple thin-strapped, elegant, long red dress with a plunging deep V in the front and back. The front has a thin band that lies perfectly in the center of my chest to help hold in my breasts, and the back dips down far enough to scream sexy, yet not enough to show off the crack of my ass. I bought a pair of silver strappy heels and a matching clutch.

After Dean and I woke up the other morning, we didn’t have much time to talk any more about Sam, as his friend Grim showed up with a couple of other men to talk about keeping an eye on me when I’m not with him, and his life has been a tad busy since with Access Records, the recording studio the band owns. I’ve seen him twice. He stayed at my house once; we went to dinner with everyone from the band. Tonight is the first night I’ve seen him in two days.

“Thank you.”

“You better tell me everything tomorrow, too, and I mean everything.” She jabs me right in my boob with her finger.

Erica knew I spent the night with him, and she knows he stayed here. Only because she pretty much moved in. The night Dean stayed, I asked her not to come over. She’s been pestering me like hell to get me to tell her whether we’ve had sex. I relented about telling her anything. When she looked at me with sincerity in her eyes, I told her nothing happened. Of course, that wasn’t good enough for her. Finally, I caved and told her we fooled around, but that’s all I told her. Now, she’s been pestering the hell out of me to make sure I not only have a good time tonight but to also get laid. For a doctor, the woman is insanely nuts and nosey.

“I’ll be sure to get on that the same way you told me you snuck up and chatted with Dean at the bar.” I lift my brows. “Dean told me, you little shit.”

“It worked, didn’t it? The man stood there watching you, and let me tell you this, the way he was looking at you had me fanning myself. If you were anyone else, I would be jealous, but you’re not. You’re my sister, and there isn’t anyone else who deserves to have a man look at her the way he did you.”

“Erica, you deserve it, too.”

“I know, and someday I will. Right now, it’s all about you, and I want details, Tatum. Every last one of them.”

“Ahhh… saved by the doorbell. I’m not telling you a thing.” I pick up my clutch and make my way to the door.

I swing it open and strike myself stupid when I take in Dean.

He’s wearing a dark blue suit that clings to him perfectly. His hair is hanging loosely. That’s all the attention I’m paying to what he’s wearing, though. It’s what he doesn’t have on that has me growing wet between my legs. He’s not wearing a shirt underneath his suit coat. I’m not complaining; the rebel look fits him. What concerns me is keeping my hands and my mouth to myself.

The lustful flashes of ripping that jacket off his body just so I can taste and touch his naked chest anywhere I want to burn brightly in my thoughts. I’ve never wanted to get to the good stuff behind this man as much as I do right now. My heart slams into my ribcage, and those feelings of falling ripple throughout every cell in my body. I feel like I have been waiting for him my entire life. It should scare me more than the fear that suffocates me over not seeing or hearing a thing from Sam or his interlopers this past week. It doesn’t. It thrills me, because the way he’s looking at me now is the same way he always looks at me. As if he’s happily dreaming and never wants to wake up.

“You are stunning.” He grabs me by the waist, pulls me in, and kisses me senseless. “I’m stealing her for the night, Erica,” he mutters, not taking his eyes off me as he speaks.

My God, those eyes of his are penetrating me with ungodly amounts of pure, raw sex. My pussy tweaks and twinges.

I’m not sure if the bold color of my dress sinks into my pores, but the words tumbling out of my mouth in a whisper are some of the dirtiest ones I’ve spoken out loud. “You don’t look bad yourself. If Erica weren’t here, I’d lift up this dress and slide my finger inside of me right where I’m standing instead of in the confines of my bedroom, which I’ve done on the nights you haven’t been with me.”

“You can keep her forever if you want.”  I think we both hear her, but we’re not taking our eyes off each other. I’m staring out of fear I’ll miss the sparks flying all around us. They seem to get higher, more colorful whenever the two of us are together. I have no idea what he’s thinking, but by the manner in which his dick is growing against my stomach, I have a clue.

I lick my lips, a reaction I’m afraid I’ll be experiencing a lot tonight. When his gaze diverts to my lips, his thumb following to run over my bottom one, my body buzzes. I’m suddenly starving from the hunger swirling around us.

“You are gorgeous. Incomparably beautiful, Tatum.” Rewarding words I love to hear feather over my face, causing my willpower of holding back from pulling him inside and getting my tongue on his nipples to take a hit and my mouth to dry. If Erica weren’t here, I’d be all over him. “Fuck, don’t get me started, or we’ll never make it to this thing. Leila is meeting us there; need to get going.” His voice is deep, raspy as he takes my hand, guides me down the sidewalk, and helps me into his truck. The other day, he told me how limos aren’t the band's thing. What they do is drive themselves, then hop in a rented one down the street and exit at the red-carpet entrance.

“Tell me more about your sister. What kind of doctor is she?”

“Well, that dulls the ache you created between my legs,” I tease.

“Trust me, Tatum. You haven’t begun to ache. You will after I’m done fucking you.” Oh God. I bite down on my lip to settle myself down.

I answer with pride in my tone. “She works in the ER at Saint Mary’s. She’s always wanted to be a doctor. Life hasn’t been easy for her. She changed colleges to be closer to me after our mom died. She’s done more than her fair share of taking care of me. She still tries. Tell me something I don’t already know about the mysterious Dean Wagner.” I angle my head and stare at him. Suddenly wishing I didn’t ask. I don’t want him thinking I’m unstitching around the hole in his chest to get him to open wide and tell me his secrets or anything remotely close to it. I feel as if I know a lot about him, but then again, I want to know everything, no matter how much it may hurt me to hear.

He brakes at the stop light and slants his head my way. He’s watching me closely, as if he’s trying to decide how much to divulge. I’ve noticed he does this quite a bit. Focuses on something for a few seconds while being quiet, fine-tuning exactly what he wants to say before he says it.

“Grew up here with a drunk uncle. Worked my ass off once the kids were born, and I haven’t stopped since. I learned to play drums in middle school. I’m too old to fucking date, and yet I want to know everything possible about this certain woman who smells like chocolate and has an ass that drives my dick crazy. The best legs, best tits, and a pussy I’d wager tastes sweet as sin. I want this black-haired beauty in my bed. I’m tired of jacking off to visuals of her when I’m ready to have the real thing.”

The gravelly need in his voice causes a fresh rush of desire to reel through me. I can feel my skin warming, accumulating into full-on body heat with every sensual, suggestive praise he flings. I’ve never felt this beautiful in all my life. There’s something else in his tone, too. The way he briefly spoke about his uncle tells me his upbringing is a topic not up for discussion.

I flash back to when I told him I wasn’t ready for anything more than him touching me. I want him in every way possible, because the way I see it, touching me won’t be enough. Nothing with him is ever going to be enough.

“My God, Dean, you're going to make it impossible for me to sit still tonight.” My low voice heavies his lids. Heated eyes penetrate my fiery flesh until I feel like I’m burning up.

His expression is flooded with a desire I can’t decipher. It lodges into the depths of my soul and sucks all the oxygen out of my lungs, making it hard for me to breathe without panting.

“That will make two of us,” he says while staring at my lips. I lick them again and stifle my laugh when he moans, exhales loudly, and presses on the gas.

I’m suddenly boiling over as a white-hot flash centers in my brain while visualizing this flawless, masculine man stroking his cock while standing above me with hooded eyes as my fingers push into my greedy body. He’s naked, cock thick and wanting. I clench my legs together and pray there won’t be a sign of my arousal on the back of my dress.

I’m left with a swaggering smirk that would knock me on my ass if I were standing when I finally rip my eyes away from between his legs. I had no idea I was staring. I’ve somehow lost my ability to think. I want everything he promised me. And so much more.

“You might want to get this woman into your bed, then. You’re the one who said you were old. I wouldn’t put it off much longer if I were you.” His relaxed look grows dark with one that sends shivers racing up and down my spine and only worsens the eager anticipation building into a heated inferno at my core.

“Jesus, I knew you had a wild streak in you. There’s no after party for you tonight. Our party is happening in my bed. I’m going to fuck you mad, Tatum. Bring out that woman you have hidden, and once I do, she’s going to be begging this old man to continue.” My body hums and sings so loud it wreaks havoc in my ears.

I feel the command of his words vibrate throughout the tissues trying to pump blood to the wild organ beating in my chest. The connection we’ve shared since the beginning comes out in full force. I’ve spent many days and nights wondering what is happening between us, how it can be so potent. Just the other day, I convinced myself to give up trying to figure it out and go with it regardless if the end result is my heart being unintentionally stomped on.

“I haven’t been inside of you yet, and I feel more for you in a short period of time than I have for another woman in my life. I should be asking myself if feeling this way is normal, but I’m not. I don’t give a flying fuck if people think it’s the craziest thing they’ve heard. I’ve got a thing for you, Tatum Fields. All I care about right now is that I know you have one for me, too. That, plus how many times I’m going to make you come tonight.”

My core tightens to the point of pain.

“If I didn’t want to see you guys win, I would suggest we skip the awards.” I smooth my hands down my dress and decide it’s time to change the subject. It’s awfully warm in California for this time of year; it’s stifling inside the cab of this truck. I can barely hear myself think over my heavy breathing.

“The award I couldn’t care less about. It’s our fans who mean everything to us. I need a diversion before I pull over and fuck you in my truck. Let’s talk more about our families, or lack thereof when it comes to mine.”

Holy hell. “Well, I would say you have a wonderful family. Look at all your bandmates.” I’m not going to snoop and ask him about Miles. I’m sure I will see how he’s doing in a few minutes.

I find myself getting caught up in telling him things about my mother I’ve never shared with another living soul, not even Sam. He listens to every word I say when I get heavy explaining how heartbreaking it was watching her wilt into a woman I didn’t recognize. “You would have loved my mom, and she would have loved you and Leila.” I turn to stare out the window. Tears are forming. I bat them away. Mom would be incredibly happy for me. “It’s strange how I can tell you anything. It’s one of the many things I feel toward you that I don’t understand. I’m not one to believe in falling for someone quickly. With you, this, whatever we want to call it, is powerful. It’s inexplicable, really.”

“It is,” he replies, his voice going soft.

The further we drive, the harder his fingers wrap around the steering wheel. The muscles in his stubbled jaw are clenching. The way his body language is changing is giving me the warning that he, too, is certain we’ll be seeing Sam.

“It’s going to be fine, I promise,” he whispers in my ear as we park, exit, and climb into the waiting limo, where I’m happy to see everyone else from the band, including Joslyn. I haven’t seen her much since the night with Sam, and even though we talk on the phone quite regularly now, I miss her terribly.

By the time we crawl to the front of the line, my palms are sweaty, my knees are shaking, and I’ve licked all the gloss from my lips.

The first person we see when we exit is Sam. He’s standing right in front of us on our side of the barriers.

Dean was wrong. Everything is most definitely not going to be fine.