Page 57 of Kiss, Kill, Thrill Me, Daddy

“No touching. I am not in the mood.”

I stand up, sending him toppling back. My hand instinctively wraps around his waist, and I manage to catch him before he falls.

“Jesus. Warn a guy next time.”

“How dare you, Tatum?”

“How dareme?”

I nod in agreement. “Correct. How dare you? You invite your lovers to your family’s home. Into our bed, little one. You ignore me for days. Then, when they wake, you practically molest them.”

“It isn’t like that. You know it’s not. Besides,yourlover has been invading our space for the last six months. I don’t think you have any room to talk.”

“Not my lover. Not my anything. I have not slept with her since the night Brody killed Scotty’s father. I ended things with her. For you.”

“I never asked you to end things with her.”

“You needn’t ask. The jealousy was written all over your face. Every time she kissed me, you looked as if you wanted to shove an assault rifle down her throat and hold down the trigger.”

“Yes,” he says, looking away, “well, I’ve warned her on many occasions that her use of maroon lipstick was an affront to all I hold dear. She would only have herself to blame, if I had.”

“I am being serious. I wish you would do the same.”

“You’re not being serious. You’re being a baby.”

“Am not.”

He rolls his eyes. “Are so.”

“You’re the baby,” I retort, releasing the hold I have on himand folding my arms over my chest. “Waah, my husband kidnapped me. Waah, I beg him to drug me then I act like a victim when he grants my wish. Waah-waah-waah, he hasn’t stuck his finger inside me for half an hour. That is you. That is what you sound like. Waah-waah-waah. Always with the crying.” The corner of his lip curls. “Do not laugh at me,” I growl. I can feel heat rising in my cheeks, and I know I must be losing any ounce of respect he’s held for me with these antics, but try as I might, I cannot stop the words from tumbling out. “Boo-hoo. That’s you.”

Tatum reaches for me, and at first, I believe he may comfort me. I would welcome it. I would be grateful for it. Alas, it is not meant to be. Instead, his hand drops down, and he tickles my neck. “If anyone’s behaving like a baby right now, it’s you.” He tickles me again. “You’re so fucking adorable like this.”

I smack his hand away. Not enough to hurt him, I just want him away from me. “Stop taunting me.”

“I’m not taunting you, I’m being serious. I love this side of you. Protective. Possessive.” He shoves his palms against me, sending me toppling onto my ass. My back hits the step, making me wince. Tatum must think this is a game, because he snickers under his breath as he straddles my lap. “Now, if you’re done playing the big, grumpy bastard, I would really appreciate it if you’d just talk to me. For fuck’s sake, how are we ever going to forge anything resembling a relationship if you just shut down when times get hard.”

There’s too much affection in his eyes at the moment, so I close mine, shutting him out. When he leans closer, he does not stop until our noses touch. All I can do is keep my eyes closed tightly, because if I open them, he will see everything. How terrified I am that these men will take him from me. I cannot lose him, and as long as I keep my eyes clamped shut, he is still mine. I can live in this imaginary land where our bond hasn’t been fractured and broken by two men who no longer have claim to Tatum. Two men who could give him a normal life, unlike me.

“Baby?” he whispers. “Please look at me.”

I bite my lip and shake my head. “Can’t.”

He digs his fingers into my thighs hard enough to make me wince. “Okay.” There’s warmth against my cheek. A kiss, perhaps? “If you can’t look at me, will you at least talk to me?”

Sighing, I lean forward, my forehead resting on his chest. “I’m frightened,” I finally admit. “You have history.” My arms wrap around his waist, and I pull him as close as I can get him. “They will take you from me.” He tugs my chin with his finger, lifting my face. When his thumb brushes back and forth against my lip, I finally open my eyes, surprised to see he looks just as frightened as me.

“Wehave history. Me and you. Six months’ worth of it. I’m finally starting to come around to this thing between us, and now you’re pushing me away? That’s not going to happen. I refuse to allow it. You said you wanted to be my boyfriend the other night. Remember? Boyfriends talk through their issues.” Leaning closer, he pecks me on the lips. “I don’t want a relationship with them. I just want my friends to be safe. If you don’t want them in our home, we can build them another one. Well, you can build it. I know nothing about the construction of homes or habitats.”

“They will take you from me,” I repeat, my voice cracked and broken and raw. “I do not wish to lose you.”

“I don’t wish to lose you, either.” He kisses the corner of my mouth. “I’m sorry, Abi. I just got excited at the thought of getting to save them. Because I went through what they’re going through now, and I don’t want them to hurt the way I did.” He presses his hand to my cheek and leans in. “I want you to listen to this, because I’m not saying it again.” His lips feather against my cheek, all the way to my ear, where he whispers, “I don’t want anyone else. I only want you.”

Another kiss, but it’s different this time. His mouth parts, allowing me entry. As fearful as I am about what comes next, I can’t deny him this. I can’t deny either of us this moment. So, Iopen my mouth and welcome him home. His hand touches the back of my neck, pulling me in closer. As his nails dig into my flesh, his tongue enters my mouth, and it’s enough to make me see stars. The warm wetness. The bumpy texture of his tongue. The unmistakable taste of cinnamon tea. It’s like an awakening. Before I realize what’s happening, Tatum has my jeans unbuttoned, and he’s tearing his mouth away from mine. His breathing heavily, his chest rising then falling as he stares hungrily into my eyes. Sliding down from my lap, he kneels in front of me, never once breaking eye contact as he unzips my jeans.

“I care for you,” he says. “Let me prove it.”

I reach for him, touching his cheek with my palm. “No, little one.” I look over my shoulder at the French doors leading into his family’s home. “I do not want your mother or father to find us this way.”

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