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He smothered her lips with his own, desperate to feel the heat of her lips, her tongue, even as he filled her pussy with one last, throbbing, pulsing thrust and finally came like what he truly was—a desperate teenager in heat. The outpouring was massive, hungry, eager, and fast, and as he pulsed inside of her, grinding his mound against her own, Tatum did as she promised and came, squealing and writhing one last time.
At last they sank into one another, Tatum dragging her hands from the headboard and wrapping them around his neck as they tumbled onto their sides, his limp dick spilling from her desperate warmth even as their limbs entwined and she whispered fervently in his ear. “Tell me why you’re a fool, Shane. Tell me, please!”
Her desperation made it clear she wanted to know his secret, and for once, he was ready to tell it to her and only her. “Cuz you’re not supposed to fall for the first girl you sleep with, Tatum, that’s why!”
She chuckled in his ear, peppering his cheek with warm, hot gushes of air. “Silly Boy, that’sexactlywho you’re supposed to fall for.”
He eased gently back even as he pressed her softly away. “It is?”
“Duh. Why do you think I’ve fallen so hard for you?”
Shane was surprised by her gushiness. “You have?”
She reached out and twisted his nipple, causing him to bark and her to chitter with squeals of delight. “Stop answering my questions with questions, Shane Dixon!”
“Well, stop being so evasive then, girl.”
“Me? Telling you I’m falling for you is being evasive?”
Shane blinked twice and pulled her closer, their hearts beating against their chests in a by-now familiar rhythm. “Well, I suppose, not when you put it that way…”
They chuckled, bodies wriggling until they could lay there for a good long while, bathed in the sunlight from the window above and the heat from their newfound affection within. “What now?” she murmured, cooing in his ear.
“Gimme a little bit to recharge,” he said, squirming against her as sleep threatened to drag them down once more. “And once that damn sun sets, I’ll show you what I can do in the dark.”
“Damn, baby,” she murmured unconvincingly. “I’m not sure how much I can take.”
He gave her one last glance, nodding as if to her heart. “Better find out, Tatum, because I’m prepared to give you everything I have.”
She held a hand to his chest, smothering it with her palm and nodding quietly as they both felt his pounding heartbeat. “All I really want is this, Shane.”
“Then you’re in luck, Tatum,” he murmured, smothering her face with an avalanche of kisses that finally quieted her doubts and fears. “Because it’s been yours, all yours, since you laughed at my first corny joke.”
As if to prove it, she laughed all over again.
Chapter Seventeen
Tatum
“Tatum, a word?”
Tatum glanced up from her latest round of edits, her tenth going on 101st, she imagined, that is … if Moira kept finding ways to nitpick her measly 2,187-word Rookie Roundup profile on sweet, sexy Shane.
There was a vaguely ominous tone in her editor in chief’s voice, but Tatum supposed that went with the territory for holier than thou campus newspaper editors. Not that she was an expert, but Moira definitely gave off those “sky is falling” vibes even when the apocalypse in question was just one too many exclamation points!
“Sure,” Tatum hedged, standing from her corner desk and blinking her eyes after toiling in front of her overworked laptop for the past two hours. “Everything okay?”
Moira avoided the question, and the answer, standing behind her desk as Phil Prescott, the photo editor, squeezed by wearing a sheepish expression. Tatum’s radar went off, especially when she peered after Phil only to find him glancing back with a wicked blush.
Tatum turned to Moira with a panicked look. “Everything? Oh? Kay?” she asked again, emphasizing every syllable with a pounding heart.
Moira avoided her eyes, sinking into her swivel desk chair and nodding instead to where she stood. “Close the door, please?”
Tatum made an involuntary little groan before she could help herself, then did as she was told. The door sealed with an involuntaryclicksound, and suddenly, Tatum found herself face to face—if not exactly eye to eye—with Moira.
“Yes, boss?” Tatum tried a lame attempt at humor, only to find Moira tapping a series of photos on her cluttered desktop. She followed Moira’s bony little fingers to spy Shane, in all his sweaty, glistening, jock-ish glory, tight, sinewy body so familiar to her now, in ways no man’s ever had been before.
Moira finally sat back in her chair, swiveling gently back and forth as if winding up for a pitch. “I seem to recall, when assigning you this puff piece, just how alluring these players can be.”
