Page 66 of Unwritten Rules
Tatum fists the doona and moans in response. Her legs shake as her pussy clenches around me, nearing the edge. And fuck if I’m not right behind her. Literally.
With a deep thrust, we come at the same time. It’s both intense and fucking magical. My vision blurs at the edges as every muscle in my body coils tight. The air is knocked from my lungs at the sensation of her walls squeezing me, taking every last ounce of energy I possess.
We fall into a tangled heap on the bed, with Tatum tucked under my arm. She hums as she hooks a leg over my left thigh, careful not to touch the right, I notice. My skin is slicked with sweat, but Tatum doesn’t care, nuzzling her face in the crook of my neck.
Hooking my right arm under my head and wrapping the other around Tatum’s back, I heave a sharp breath, staring at the ceiling. “Holy shit.”
“Holy shit indeed,” Tatum murmurs, followed by a soft chuckle.
A wave of emotions I can’t recognise press down on my chest. I swallow hard, voice raspy as I murmur, “I’m both terrified and intrigued by you, Tate.”
Tatum lifts herself up onto her elbow, jade eyes meeting mine from above—like a fucking angel. “Why?” Her hand caresses my cheek, and I lean into her touch.
“Because I’m confused.”
“About me?”
I nod. “There are so many factors stacked against us and rules that could have lasting effects if broken. And while I want to break them—fuck do I want to break them… I’m also torn. The need to protect my career and you?—”
“I understand,” Tatum murmurs, voice light. Not a hint of anger lingers in her words at my admission. “You have a lot on the line, Sin. We both do. And if you want to end things here… I get it.”
“God, no.” I push up onto my elbow, body turning to face her. Her nipple piercings brush my chest, sending a shiver down my spine. “I don’t want that.”
“But you’re confused,” she points out. “And it’s okay to be. I’m confused, too.”
My hand slides up to cup her cheek, needing to feel her to know she’s real, because right now, it feels like I’m having an out of body experience.
“It doesn’t change the fact that I still want you,” I strangle out, voice tight. “I just…”
“Me, too,” Tatum interjects. She smiles, and it’s brighter than any star in the sky. “Should we be confused together and see where it takes us?”
I can’t help but smile, despite the pressure baring down on my chest. “Confused together. I can make that work.”
A sultry look gleams in Tatum’s eyes as she gently pushes at my shoulder, forcing me onto my back. My eyes track her movements as she slides down the bed, her face centimetres from my cock, which is hard again. I swear it has a mind of its fucking own.
“What are you doing?” I murmur, fisting the doona at my sides. “Tate?—”
“Shhh,” she whispers, tongue darting out to lick her plump bottom lip. “I believe I have a favour to return for that skilful tongue of yours.”
Before I can utter another word, her mouth wraps around the head of my cock, taking me all the way to the back of her throat. A moan slips past my parted lips, and I’m helpless to stop it. Myhead drops onto the mattress, relishing in the feel of her tongue sliding over my skin, sucking and teasing with precision.
I don’t know what I did to deserve this woman walking into my life, but I’m determined to keep her by my side, even if she is my downfall.
Chapter Seventeen
TATUM
“How are you adjusting to the new job and being in Sydney?” Dad asks as we pull into the car park behind the Wolves’ home stadium, located in Brookvale. He kills the engine and flicks his eyes to me. “I only ask because you’ve been acting a little… off the past week.”
Despite my best efforts, heat floods my cheeks and I shift in the seat, unable to meet my father’s eyes.
How can I tell him the truth? If he found out I’m sleeping with his star halfback, there would be no coming back from it. While I don’t agree with his need to enforce a ‘no dating’ rule on his twenty-three-year-old daughter, there isn’t anything I can do to change his mind. Not that I’ve tried. And even if I did, he seems adamant with his stance.
With how busy Dad has been this past week, he didn’t bat an eye when I would leave to go for a late-night drive around the suburbs with Sinnett. Each time I left, he would either be in his office working on game plans for the round ten match against the Redfern Raiders, or he’d be passed out in bed.
Dad isn’t the kind of father who watches everything I do with a keen eye, but I have no doubt there is a slight concern in the back of his mind that I’ll go against his rule of steering clear fromthe players. Whether it’s because he doesn’t trust I can keep a promise—turns out I can’t—or because he doesn’t want to see me get hurt. Either way, he gives me the breathing room I need to live my life, but keeps close enough to take note if anything is out of the ordinary.
And apparently, I’m not as slick as I thought I was.
