The Suspect

chapter 30

If you know me, no you don't pt.2

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Tatum's pov:

I'm kissing her. Again.

This time; however, I intend to go all the way through. Skipping all the bases—even though we've already covered second base—right through to third fucking base.

I push her into the wall, kissing the fuck out of her smart, little mouth. My hand is wrapped around the base of her throat, the other making its place on her perfect—to me—waist. I squeeze the flesh like I always do. Our tongues lap together; one, two, three times until I start to grow impatient.

My hands move in swift movements, going under her thighs, hoisting her up. She complies and immediately wraps her legs around my waist. Good girl. Fuck, I've dreamt of this every day since the hotel. Her legs grip me so tight, my very stiff erection hits all the right spots right where it should be. She whimpers, moaning into my mouth and my mouth captures each.

As if she's only now registering what's been happening, Willow abruptly pulls away from me, "W-wait....what are you doing?"

I don't say anything as I stare at the perfect picture in front of me. Her mouth—the sassy, little mouth has gone all red. Her lips are swollen and puffy; an indication of my attack on them. My eyes move to her legs, perfectly around me, like they were made to be. Finally, her eyes. Her pupils are dark and dilated, like two little black circles—so plain yet they pierce through me. Like I'm the target and her eyes are the arrow that hits bulls fucking eye.

"Earth to dickwad,"

Her voice. It's heavy, deeper, and hoarse. Another indication that makes my heart soar, except the fact that she won't stop calling me that stupid name.

"Mhm?"

"I said what are you doing?" she repeats again and my eyes snap to hers.

"I know you're angry. I know you probably hate me right now, but you need to trust me when I say you're going to regret this later," I explain slowly but firmly before narrowing my eyes, "So take it out on me. All that anger. Use me."

She blinks. Once. Twice...slowly as she registers my words. Her eyes drop to my lips as I watch her throat move. She gulps slowly, surely contemplating whether or not she should.

"Are you fucking stupid?" she agonizes, her eyes shooting daggers at me.

"Maybe I am, but fuck if I know," I shrug, "I know you're going to regret it—no matter what you do—and you will feel mad at yourself. I would rather you...regret me than regret further risking your job."

Did I just say that? Well, it hurt. The words scrape every side of my throat as they come out, making it sting as I swallow. Do I want her to regret me? This. Us. No, not at fucking all. But I would want it to be me, more than anything else.

"I can't—"

"I want you to," I cut her off before shaking my head, "I want to, okay. I don't fucking mind. Anyways, I've gotta finish what I started that morning. Technically, I haven't fucked you out of my system yet."

Now that sets her off. Her lips press into a thin line, her hold on me tightening.

"You're such an ass—"

I cut her off again. Only with my lips this time though.

"So I've been told," I murmur between kisses and she gives into me. Our lips fight each other, dueling as neither of us concede control.