Tatum

“I’ve seen you more in the last week than I have all month, Erica,” I tease when the last customer of the day pushes open the door, allows her to walk through, and she closes it behind her. I look from her to Leila, both of them smirking mischievously. “You two are ridiculous.” It feels like they’ve both taken their hands and are reaching inside my head in desperation to squeeze my brain for information.

“Tatum is taking these with her to dinner at my dad’s and letting me lock up, aren’t you?” Leila hands me the bag I packed a few minutes ago with a couple of chocolate-covered strawberries. A gleaming smile on her big, fat mouth. And if I didn’t know this young woman has her father’s best interest at heart, I would tell her to shut up.

“Oh, I knew she had a date. She told me about it yesterday. That’s why I’m here.” Sure, it is. They are fraying the last of my nerves already. My unsteady nerves. They’ve been unraveling since Dean took me home a few days ago.

“He brought me home; that was it.” I slip from her embrace. It was way more than just bringing me home. To me, anyway, and by the sounds of it, to Dean, too. My stomach starts to clench tightly with nerves fluttering all over the place when I think about spending the entire evening with him.

Leila has been hounding me for information since she came to work a few hours ago. I told her the same thing I’m telling Erica.

I don’t kiss and tell. Erica knows this. Besides, I’ve only kissed one other man in my life, and even though I loved it when Sam kissed me, the way he kissed doesn’t hold a candle to the kiss I shared with Dean. Sam didn’t even light a spark. Dean lit me up in sizzling flames. So much so that when I locked the door behind me and heard him pull away, I started stripping off my clothes and played with my breasts while fucking myself with my finger. I came harder than I have in a long time. Might have been my best orgasm yet.

I stood frozen out of fear and disbelief for a brief second when he kissed me. My head twittering on reality and a dream. When his tongue coaxed my mouth open after I asked him for more, I fell into him. The kiss wasn’t innocent like a tease but blistering, flaming, passionate, and it burned in the best way. I wanted to pull away before I lost myself and begged him to come inside my house, but when reality kicked my senses in the ass, I pulled away before I could no longer think straight. My pulse was out of control, and my head was telling me to back away. So, I did.

It’s a good thing we aren’t at my house, where they could see my bedroom. I tore my closet apart trying to figure out what to wear tonight. I settled on a pair of comfortable jeans, an oversized red sweater, and now I’m burning up. It’s not from being overdressed either. It’s from thinking about him. Erica was totally right about me needing to get laid. I won’t, though. Not tonight or if we go on another date either. I’m not wired that way. I might want kinky, rough sex, but I won’t have it with just anyone. No matter if he has me nearly panting or not.

I’m practically standing in the same spot I was when Erica showed up on Valentine’s Day when she makes her way to me, slings her purse on the counter, and tugs me in for a hug.

“I’m happy for you, is all. You've been ready to date for a long time. Plus, you already have it good with his daughter.” I shake my head at her crazy outburst.

I’m sure she is happy for me. She’s also here fishing the same way she was on the phone. Casting a line that will come up with the worm still dangling. I’m not telling her a thing.

She couldn’t be more accurate either. I’ve given this more thought than I have anything in a long time.

“Pfft. That’s a given. She’s way in with his daughter, and like I told her, my dad doesn’t date. As in, he has never been on a real one in his life, and he has never asked a woman over for dinner.” Once again, I’m not going to elaborate on the shocking news she told me. I’m still reeling from it. The man is outrageously sexy, he’s demanding, blunt, and even though those have nothing in common with dating, I find it hard to believe.

“Well, there’s an exception to everything, and my beautiful sister deserves to be his first date. You look amazing, Tatum. You should go. I’ll help close up.”

My mouth drops open. “You will?” It’s not like she hasn’t helped me before when I’ve needed it, but for some silly reason, tonight seems different. Maybe it’s because I’m not used to all the help. Leila has been the best thing to happen to me as far as my business goes. She’s polite with the customers, has great ideas when it comes to decorating the storefront windows, and she’s a breath of fresh air. I’m absolutely in love with her. Not to mention, she wants her dad to be happy, and the way she carries on, she wants his happiness to be me.

“Of course, I will. Now go.” She presses my keys into my hand, nearly shoves me out the door, and locks it behind me.

* * *

I take in my face to make sure the silly grin I’ve been wearing for the past couple of days is wiped off before I climb out of my car and make my way into a house I would glance at every now and then. I always wondered what the inside of his home looked like. The outside is a dark gray with stone hedged all along the bottom. There are many angles in what appears to be three levels.

Just as Leila mentioned, I’m here for dinner. Dean invited me over to his house after he brought me home the other night. To say I’m a nervous wreck would be the biggest lie I’ve told. I’m freaking the hell out. Glad I’m here but wondering what in the hell is going on between us. Two strangers who hold a lot in common. Most of it full of bitterness toward life. Nonetheless, fate seems to be unstoppable in pushing us together.

Multiple times, I would sit outside at Roman and Joslyn’s and pray the man who owned this gorgeous home did not walk down the winding driveway and enter through the gate that separated his home from theirs.

Now, here I am walking up the cobblestone walkway, gazing at the flowers, the trees, and the most incredible and daring man standing in the doorway. He has the looks of a long-haired James Dean. Vibes that scream ‘I dare you to take a look, to touch, to feel me. Because once you do, you’ll never want for anything again.’ The sight of him draws my breath right out of me.

When Leila and my sister asked me to go out over the weekend, I was reluctant at first. Then I reminded myself it was time to take an adventure by the horns.

At first, I had no idea they wanted to go to the bar where Dean was playing. I’m glad they confessed because now that I’ve had a taste of the man he is, I can’t wait for this night to begin so I can get to know him more.

I should have guessed Leila plotted something by the way she kept talking about her dad and how much we had in common every time I told her I wasn’t going out with them. Somehow, she worked her magic on Erica, and when we stepped into the bar, the band already on stage, my panties went damp when I saw him behind a set of drums.

There’s an intensity in his face when he plays. Seeing him in action in person is far better than on television. The man is a talented drummer, and the way he holds his sticks in his hands about drove me crazy. His hand slid up and down the smooth pieces of wood. I gulped hard when I imagined him doing the same thing to his cock. Teasing and seducing me until I begged him to let me have it. All I wanted to do was run up on stage and secure my legs around his waist and kiss him.

There’s something between us, alright. It might be a powerful physical connection, but there’s more, and when he pulled me out of his truck, his strong hands gripping me by the waist, my nipples went tight. My stomach dropped, and my pussy heightened to the point of aching to catch a release when I felt the nipple rings through his still damp T-shirt. He saw the shock register on my face before I could hide it. A small smile played on his lips.

My tongue curled in desperation to flick those tiny circular hoops, and when he kissed me, I felt something unreal, something magical course through my veins and slam into my chest.

I couldn’t explain this feeling I have toward him to a jury if my life were on the line.

“You look beautiful,” Dean says, eyes overflowing with affection and a smile that would melt chocolate. Lord, how I’d love to mess up the sheets and lick chocolate off his muscular body.

“You look good yourself.” I lick my dry lips, follow him into his house, and take in his home.

The entire floor is different shapes and sizes of wood. An open floor plan done in creams and blacks. It all highlights the gourmet kitchen, and the view from the back of the house boasts an impressive view of the city below.

“Your home is stunning, Dean.” He stands beside me, over six feet of muscled perfection tailored in jeans and a navy-blue dress shirt. My eyes immediately dart to his nipples. Visions of flicking my tongue over them heat my flesh and quiver my thighs. My heart skips a beat when he gives me a grin full of satisfaction. “Let me guess. This is Leila’s work?” I ask before he has the chance to speak.

“It is. She worked with a designer a year ago. Redid the whole thing.”

“She’s a good-hearted woman. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of telling you how well you’ve raised her.” His smile fades, and it’s then I know he’s thinking about his son. My heart bleeds for his loss. I can’t even begin to imagine what he’s been through.

I’m not a parent, but I’ve had my share of grief. It’s like a hollowness in your heart, a muted shade of emptiness that somehow takes over and clutches your passion for moving on and threatens to destroy you entirely. It gives you a heavy sensation that compares to the weight of the world resting on your mind and shoulders, and there is nothing you can do to shake it off. It simply burrows inside of you further.

I felt that way when my mother died. It climbed into my soul when I lost Sam. He might be alive and living his life, but losing him the way I did left me grieving.

“I brought dessert,” I exclaim, lifting the bag and setting it on the kitchen counter. I need to keep Dean’s mind here with me. If and when he wants to talk about his son, I’ll listen with open ears and room in my heart.

I inhale sharply when he charges me like a bull. Ready, eager, and shifting the melancholy mood into anxiousness. His large hands take me by the waist, pulling me up close to his powerful body.

One thing I’ve learned about Dean is, he’s a bold, take-charge type of man. I should take the way he takes what he wants as a warning to back away. I don’t by any means think he would intentionally hurt me, but I thought that before and it crushed me.

“I’m all in if it’s something I can lick off you.” Oh, shit. I gulp. He knows about my secret room. Damn Roman and Joslyn. I’ll bet anything they told him.

“Well, I suppose you could. It’s strawberries.” An idea forms in my head. It involves me, him, and chocolate. I gulp it down to save for later in hopes the night goes smoothly.

His thumb sears heat across my bottom lip while he looks deep into my eyes. This man is busting down everything I’ve hedged since Sam obliterated my trust, but truthfully, I trust Dean in a certain aspect already. I could have drowned, and he took that chance anyway. With the hatred he feels for Sam, he could have trashed talked me and told the entire world what he saw. He’s trustworthy and dominating and the kind of man who not only rocks while playing with his band, but I bet he’ll fill my dirty fantasies as well as create new ones.

I sigh, tilt my head back, and the next words out of him flow back and forth between us as if he plucked them out of my dream and stole them. “I like strawberries, not as much as I like you. Shit, I don’t know what this is, what’s happening. This connection I feel toward you has barged in out of nowhere. I have trust issues, but I want to get to know the woman inside of this tempting and dangerous body. You have me intoxicated by you. I can’t stop thinking about you. The things I want to say and do to you are beyond obscene. I want to drip chocolate all over you and taste. Fuck, woman. I am so attracted to you it's making me crazy.”

Holy shit. My ovaries are wildly throbbing.

Dean’s nostrils flare wide as he looks me in the eye. They darken to a near shade of black.

I don’t believe he had a sexual motive when he asked me here. His wishes are the same as mine. To learn everything we can about each other because when the time comes when we do get together, it’s going to blow each other’s mind.

“I’m a private person, Tatum, and my past, my family, my friends are important to me. I’m going to trust you from the start.” His words are irrevocably powerful and jolt my heart to an abrupt stop. I wasn’t expecting him to say that at all. I’m not completely sure why he would with a certain someone from both of our pasts.

“I know they are. What Sam did, what the paparazzi did to you and everyone in your band was wrong. I’ve never forgiven him for the way he went about it. I’m not like him, Dean. Believe me when I say you’ve done something to me, too. If I didn’t believe there was more to you than a sexy man who undoubtedly could take me places I’ve never been before, I wouldn't be here. You’ve created something my head has spun around trying to figure out. Trust is a big word, Dean. It’s potent, and it doesn’t come to you or me easily. Let’s earn it and see where this connection goes.”

His big hands scorch my skin through my shirt as they slide up my sides, stopping to rest on my cheeks. Dean is a toucher, he’s intense and strikes you with a deep sense of reality with both his words and his touch. I would never have thought I would feel this kind of safety again. It should frighten me.

He urges my head back with a strong grip on the back of my neck. He kisses me fast and hard, stealing my breath.

Dark eyes show a glimpse of a bright, amazing, pleasurable journey. I’m suddenly frightened in a good way.

I’m putting all my faith that trust is going to wrench the fear out of me and guide me to learn how to live.