Use Me Page 12

  “Not sure yet.”

  “Are you still in contact with her?” I gasp out, not understanding how he can say that. This is someone from his past.

  “We have a fucked-up kind of relationship.”

  “Oh... well...” I pause, now doubting everything he told me.

  Single? Pft.

  When I can’t take it, I ask, “Do you love her?”

  “Don’t know that, either.”

  “What the heck is that supposed to mean?”

  He shakes his head and smiles. Then he reaches over and turns up the radio again.

  “Are you still with her?” I ask louder.

  He looks over at me and rolls his eyes, not replying.

  “I’m sorry. I just want to know things, okay?” I reach out and turn down the radio again.

  “I’ve told you everything you’ve asked about.”

  I know I’m not going to get any further by pushing. He seems dead set on not talking about his sexual past, and I’m fine with that.

  I look up and see a sign. You are now leaving Highland Park.

  “Thank fuck,” he groans as he puts on his sunglasses.

  Eventually, he reaches over and takes my hand in his.

  I look over at him to see he is looking straight ahead.

  We don’t talk anymore, just hold hands and listen to the music and static play through the radio.

  When he pulls up in front of the hotel, he hops out and walks around the truck, opens the door, and I get out. Then he pushes the sunglasses up on his head and looks down at me.

  “Gonna stay out of trouble, Legs?”

  “Legs?” I ask as he smirks, his eyes raking down my body.

  “Wanted them wrapped around me from the day I saw them. But apparently, you like it in the gym.”

  I feel my face heat up, but he’s correct. “I’ve always been a bed kind of girl.”

  His eyebrows slowly creep up. “Don’t care about your past, don’t lay claim to your future, just enjoying our little story.” One hand grips my hip, the other lifts my chin. “Am I allowed to kiss you before I leave, or is that a no go?”

  “Please,” I say, closing my eyes as his lips descend upon mine.

  So soft, yet so possessive, he kisses me like he doesn’t care who’s watching. As his tongue slides into my mouth, I forget to care, too.

  Once he steps back, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone. “Think I can give you my number, just in case you wanna shoot me a text if you’re gonna go out and get drunk, hang out in the middle of the night by the river, or... I don’t know, go into the murder capital of the world and hang out in run-down cemeteries?”

  I rattle off my number as his eyebrows turn in. He hits a bunch of apps and curses under his breath.

  “You want me to do that?”

  “Why the hell do people need these things?” he grumbles.

  “We can’t survive without them.”

  “Survived this many years, but Buck insisted, so I got suckered into the two for one shit.” He pauses and looks up at me. “You wanna do this?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  I take his phone and punch in my contact information—all of it: address, email, and my phone number.

  “Now send me a text, and I’ll have all your info, too,” I tell him.

  He looks at me funny, and I can’t help laughing.

  “Green bubble-looking thing; hit it and the keypad pops up. Then type me a message.”

  “Okay, got it.”

  “You wanna come up?” I ask bravely.

  He looks at his watch. “I need to get back. I’ll send you a text.”

  Disappointed, I nod. “See you around.”

  I take a step away, and he grabs my hand, stopping me. Then he kisses me again. This one is not as soft, but just as possessive.

  “I’d really like to come up. Enjoyed the fuck out of coming up”—he smirks—“last night. I’d rather do you than go dance around a ring with a bunch of sweaty men.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “One hundred percent. But I got responsibilities. I’ll shoot you a text.” He looks down at his phone as he walks away.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Angelo

  I spend the rest of the day in the ring, feeling like a dollar short of a million, as opposed to last night’s million.

  Fuck, just being around her is a release. I don’t worry or wonder what she’s thinking like I do everyone else. I had an emotional as fuck day, but then I see her and all I can think about is kissing her pink lips and wanting to be inside her.

  The night is slow, so I run up and grab the damn book to do my part of this muse thing and write something. Then I sit in the office and write:

  After Annie told me she was leaving in a couple weeks, I wouldn’t say I wasn’t disappointed. Hell, I was. But a woman like that shouldn’t be stuck in this shithole for any lengthy amount of time. I didn’t even want to be here, but I had... responsibilities, a... family business to run, and... a younger brother to take care of.

  This afternoon, we had gone to, umm, lunch on my break, and she had started asking me about the women in my past. I wasn’t gonna give away my whole life story, but she sure as fuck held nothing back.

  And now... Well, now there are four men in the world who I want to kill with my bare hands, beat up.

  I had left the apartment complex and headed back to work. She wanted me, I sure as fuck wanted her, but for some damn reason, I had done the right thing. Huh, go figure.

  That night, she came to me. I guessed I had given her my key, because when I woke up, she was standing over my bed in a bathrobe, nothing else.

  Her tits were right there within arm’s reach, and suddenly, I wanted to taste them, so I sat up and pushed the robe from her left shoulder, then the right.

  Her nipples were hard, little nubs, and my mouth ached to suck on them, tug on them, taste them. Nothing had ever tasted better.

  I threw the blanket off me, pulled her down so she was lying on top of me. I had to give her sexy, pink lips a taste first. God, how I loved them. But then... Then I was all about those tits. Perfect fucking tits.

  The noises she made had my balls tightening to the point that it was almost painful. But I didn’t give a damn. I sucked her nipples. I sucked on one then the other, until they were more red than before, harder than before, and slick with my saliva.

  I reached under her arms and pulled her up, kissing every inch of her while I positioned her to straddle me.

  I looked at her pussy. It was swollen, damp, and I could smell her.

  Ignoring my cock’s needs, I pulled her up, my face inches from her cunt. I inhaled then looked up at her. I told her to sit on my face. I wanted to eat her pussy until my face was coated with her.

  And I did.

  And it was.

  Then I fucked her. I fucked her hard, fast, and then slow ’cause I didn’t want to come yet. Felt too good inside of her.

  I fucked her missionary. I fucked her from behind. I fucked her until I didn’t think either of us could walk straight.

  Her pussy was hot, wet, and tight around my cock, so I fucked her more.

  I pulled out and threw that stupid fucking rubber away, and she stroked my cock until we both watched my come shoot out onto her flat, little belly.

  When we were done, she wanted to stay, and I sure as fuck didn’t want her to go.

  I asked her if I was better than those others, and she, of course, said yes. I asked her if she had ever been fucked from behind, doggy-style, like I had done minutes ago. She told me no, just missionary, and I was elated.

  I was gonna fuck her everywhere, maybe even in a cemetery, so those memories she was talking about didn’t fade when you didn’t see the person anymore, the good kind, not the bad.

  When she looked at a brick, she would know I fucked her against a brick wall. When she saw a sink, she would think about me and when I fucked her leaning over one. When she was in the shower, she would rem
ember fucking me in one. I was gonna fuck her in a house, on a car, in the water, on the grass, and if I could fuck her in the sky, I sure as fuck would, so that when she looked up, she would remember how good my dick felt inside her pussy. She would remember every goddamn way I made her feel.

  I hear a loud crash and then, “Son of a bitch!”

  Buck.

  I get up and walk over to the stairs, my dick making a teepee in my pants. I am never more grateful that no one is here.

  I yell up the stairs, “You okay?”

  “Yes! No! Fucking water everywhere.”

  I run up the stairs and head toward the light coming from the room I had yet to venture into. When I walk in, I nearly blow a gasket. It’s twice the size of mine and has a real bed in it, and not just the mattress.

  “Where’s the water?” I ask, then hear his voice coming from behind the door across the room.

  As I walk toward it, he’s walking out with a towel wrapped around him, and he’s soaked.

  “What the fuck are you doing in the closet?” I ask.

  “I asked if you wanted this room, you said no.” He steps out and closes the door behind him.

  “I remember, Buck. Now what the hell are you doing?”

  “I was taking a bath, and the medicine cabinet fell off the damn wall.”

  “Are you on something, Buck? If you are, that shit stops now, you got it?”

  He laughs. “I’m not on anything.”

  “Well, clearly—”

  “Remember, I got dibs on this room,” he says as he opens the door and flips on a switch.

  I push past him and walk in.

  “What the hell is this?” I gasp.

  He laughs. “A bathroom, man.”

  “Where the fuck did it come from?”

  “Well, when a mommy and daddy bathroom fall in lust—”

  “This room ain’t yours,” I tell him.

  “Bullshit! You agreed, like, four times,” he whines like a little kid.

  He’s right; I did say that.

  “I am so using this bathroom.”

  “Fine, but shit in the other one. I don’t wanna smell you when I have company. Did you see that bed? It’s huge.”

  The kid is in heaven. He’s ecstatic. It’s annoying, but also good to see him like this as opposed to his normal pissy self.

  Then I hear a hiss and look back in the bathroom to see water jetting out from under the sink.

  “Shit!” I rush in and grab a towel.

  “I fixed that earlier,” he says from behind me.

  I lift the towel I had placed over the water and see silver tape dangling.

  “Duct tape isn’t a fix, Buck.” I reach under the sink and turn the water off from the valve.

  “Worked great for me. I had a fucking bath, man.”

  “Great. Now go get dressed and sweep and mop the floor while I run to the damn super center and grab some plumbing tape,” I tell him, walking out of the damn bathroom I never knew about and into his fucking room with a real bed. Suddenly, I want to throw Buck out.

  “I just took a bath, and now you want me to clean?” he asks.

  I look back at him. “Yes. Yes, the fuck I do.”

  “Fine,” he grumbles.

  When I return with the shit I need to fix the water leak, I lock the gym door behind me and head toward the apartment stairs. I hear Buck laugh as I walk up. Then I hear another laugh, one from a female. I know that laugh.

  I walk in to see Tatum and Buck sitting at the island, eating Chinese food.

  She looks up and smiles. “Hungry?”

  “Starving,” I answer.

  “She stopped over because you didn’t message her, and she was worried,” Buck tells me, standing up and stretching before he smiles at me. “She brought a movie.”

  “Why don’t you go grab some popcorn or something?” I tell Buck, my eyes not leaving hers. She’s flushed already, and I want to know why. I also want to bury my cock inside her.

  “You were just—”

  “Buck,” I cut him off, still looking at her.

  “Fine. You wanna tie a sock on the doorknob or something?” he asks, chuckling.

  “Go,” I say, finally looking away from her to him.

  Once he puts on his shoes and walks toward the door, he looks back. “I’ll text before I come back.”

  “No need. Just get back here without any damn bruises, you got me?”

  He nods. “I got you.”

  “Awe,” Tatum says, and I look back at her to see she is smiling. Fucking beautiful smile, too.

  As soon as the door shuts, she says, “You didn’t text, and I wasn’t going to come, but then I thought maybe you’d forgotten how already because you’re a man of your word. And then I worried, so I split a bottle of wine with myself and—”

  “Oh, so is that why your cheeks are pink?” I ask, setting the bag down.

  “It was red wine, so I suppose it’s possible.”

  I pull the phone out of my pocket and show it to her. “Battery died.”

  “So, what, you don’t know how to charge it?” she asks, standing up and walking over to me. “I can show you how.”

  “I bet you can. But let me get Buck’s bathroom taped up first, all right?”

  She stops and smiles. It’s a bigger smile than usual. I suppose it’s from the wine.

  “Why don’t you have a seat, and I’ll go take care of it,” I tell her before walking quickly into his room, knowing if I don’t do it now, I sure as hell won’t do it later.

  I crouch down under the sink and use the tape to fix the stripped piping that was spraying. Then I stand up and look around.

  “Unreal,” I say out loud to myself. “A shower I could probably stand under.”

  I hear her clear her throat from behind me and look back.

  She has the book. Fuck.

  “You thought about me today,” she says with that same big smile.

  “I suppose I did,” I quip, drying off my hands.

  “I thought about you, too.”

  “Didn’t expect any less,” I tell her as I run the water to make sure the tape is holding for now. I know damn well it won’t hold for more than a week, maybe two. Then I will have to fix it for real. But not now.

  I stand up and rinse my hands off before turning around and looking at her.

  Peering up at me through those sexy as hell lashes, she quips, “So, this wall is brick.”

  “You read my words?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

  She nods.

  I step closer to her. “You want me to fuck you against this wall, Tatum?”

  I don’t wait for her reply. I already know that answer, too.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tatum

  He comes at me with a look I have never seen from him, or anyone in my life. He looks like a man possessed, possessed by desire... for me.

  Stopping just short of me, he stretches his neck, eyes glued to mine as he licks his lips.

  The desire I feel now ignites with need.

  “You remember when you gave me a taste of your pussy?” he practically growls.

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  He reaches down the front of his workout pants and grabs himself. “I got off on that thought, that taste, for several nights.”

  I moan as my eyes fall to his hand that is now buried in his pants as he slowly strokes himself.

  “Take off your pants and underwear, Tatum. I wanna lick your pussy.”

  Oh God. My knees shake from his words.

  “Now, or I’ll rip them off,” he warns, or promises, with thickness in his demanding voice.

  I shimmy out of my jeans and turn to place them on a chair next to the wall. When I start to turn around, he wraps his free arm around me and turns me until I am facing brick.

  “Hands on the wall.” His voice is strained and so incredibly sexy.

  I look over my shoulder and up into eyes that are as dark as night. He skates his hand down my body,
eyes chasing them, and I have never felt so exposed, vulnerable, or needy than when this man... this beautifully broken man, looks at my naked body like he is considering his options.

  I am afraid. What scares me the most is that his options are endless.

  I want everything he can give me. Right now, I want him to use me.

  I watch him go to his knees and feel his large, callused hands on my ass, spreading me and exposing me further to him. He then runs his tongue down my ass cheek, making me arch my back.

  “So fucking wet,” he whispers then blows on my heated lips. “Feel good, Tatum?” he asks then does it again as my back arches in anticipation. “So sexy,” he groans as he rubs his finger up and down my slit. He then presses his tongue against me, and I feel my knees weaken. When he sucks on my lips, I nearly fall apart. Then, when he pushes his tongue inside, I nearly fall.

  He pulls away. “You okay?”

  “Please don’t stop,” I beg shamelessly. I will keep begging, too, because, if he stops, my body will revolt and never be the same again. I need this release. I need only what Angelo can give me.

  “Couldn’t if I tried.” He pulls me back from the wall and moves his body in front of me.

  On his knees, he grabs my ankle and pulls my leg over his shoulder. He looks up, eyes on mine, as he kisses then licks me.

  Shivers run up my spine as I slap my hands against the wall, steadying myself, as he sucks on my pussy. Then I open my mouth in a silent cry of pleasure when he does it again before licking me. My knee wobbles, and then he pulls back.

  “No, don’t. Please don’t st—”

  “Hands on the wall. Leg over my shoulder,” he instructs.

  When I don’t move, he says, “On my shoulders, Tatum,” between clenched teeth as he lifts me by my ass. “I want my face buried between those sexy legs of yours right... fucking... now.”

  Once I do as I am told, he pulls me tightly against his face. The scruff of his beard, the heat of his mouth, the strength of his tongue, and the grip of his hands on my ass push me into a frenzied state of lust, desire, need, want. I grab his hair and grind against his face as he fucks me with his tongue until I come, crying out to the universe as I praise his name.