Use Me (Caldwell Brothers)

“How...? Where...?”

“Took the stairs,” he answers.

“Why?”

“Don’t like the elevator.” He starts walking toward my door, pulling my book out of the pocket of his hoodie, then pulls out the key. Without a word, he opens the door and walks in.

Nervous, I stand frozen at the door.

“You want me to ask for coffee? Or you just wanna get right down to it?”

Oh. My. God.

Chapter Nine

This woman is confusing the hell out of me. I’m here because I can’t shake her. As hard as I try, she’s in my every thought.

She wants to use me, so be it.

One month, I can endure. One month, I can have someone take me in the only way I can give them, which is through my body. Then she will be gone, and I will have a slight reprieve from the demons. I will also know she’s not out on the streets of Detroit at night, trying to find her “inspiration.”

“I like the book, Tatum. I like knowing what you want. You want to use me, then do it without all this.” I point at her head.

“Right,” she squeaks then clears her throat. “Well, let’s get to it.”

I step up to her and pick her up, which causes her to grip my shoulders, her eyes widening in surprise. Again, fucking confusing. It’s what she wrote, so why would she be shocked?

I lay her on the bed, then stand up, taking off my jacket and shirt. Her mouth is gaping slightly as she looks at me.

I have been looked at like this many times. Lust, desire, need. She wants me, and I appreciate that. Hell, it feels damn good.

I’m hard already.

Thing about her, though, is that I would have been hard as soon as I saw her, had it not been for the little river incident.

I also see something different in her than any other woman who went to their knees for me. I see appreciation. The way she looks at my body, at my ink, at my face... unmistakably, appreciation.

“Tatum or Annie?” I ask as I hold my hand out for hers. Then I see it again. The confusion.

She recovers quicker from it this time and asks, “Which do you prefer?”

I shrug. “Doesn’t much matter to me.”

Now I see pain.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” she asks, sitting up and pulling the covers over her fully clothed body.

Unwilling to dive deeper into this conversation, I grab the journal off the table that I set it on and hold it up. “I like the name Tatum better than Annie, but this says Annie. You’re leading here. This is your game; you decide.”

“Tatum,” she answers, her cheeks flushing.

I nod then look at the book to avoid reading her expressions. “Tatum, take off your coat.”

She does as she’s asked, while I drop the journal and do what she wants.

I lean over her, holding myself above her, slowly lowering my face to hers.

Easy, I tell myself. But her lips. Fuck, I want them.

“Are you pulsing?” I focus on her lips and what her words told me.

Anticipation.

She whispers, “Yes,” as I lean in closer.

“Hands above your head, Tatum,” I remind her this is what she asked for in her writing.

I hold both of them in one of mine. Then, unable to stop myself, I kiss her lips, scolding myself because that’s not what she wanted, but I can’t help it. Then I move to her chin, her jawline, her neck.

Her skin is so soft. So soft and smells so good.

I kiss her lower down her neck, across her shoulders, as her tits rise and fall against my chest. I kiss between them, then down her belly, where I pull her shirt up, kissing her pale belly.

She’s soft. So fucking soft. My lips on her skin excites me almost as much as them against her lips.

I kiss up now, pushing her shirt with my nose, just like she described, and when I get to her tits, I find them covered in black. Black lace.

I glance up. “Tatum?”

“Please,” she whispers, pushing her covered tits against me.

Again, not exactly what she said in writing, but fuck it.

I release her hands to pull her shirt up. “Gonna have to take this off.”

She nods and lifts her arms as I pull the shirt up and over her head.

Her neck, it has a mark on it. I lean in and kiss it.

“Hurt?”

She shrugs.

Without thought, I tell her, “No more of that. None. No more putting yourself at risk.”

“Why do you care?”

Her question shocks me, and I answer the only way I know how—honestly. “I like your lips. Pretty sure I’m gonna like your tits, Tatum. So, no more of that.”

I reach behind her and pull her up. Then I fuck with her bra, which is a pain in the ass. I don’t remember this being so fucking hard.