7. Tatum

Tatum

Chapter seven

"Truth or dare?" I ask Atlas as he climbs onto the bed next to me.

It was a spontaneous decision. But after the talk he'd just had with my father, and the fact that we might actually be here all weekend, I figured we needed a distraction and a way to get to know each other a little.

What better way than a good old game of truth or dare?

"Truth," Atlas says in his deep, raspy voice. I can tell he might be getting sleepy but I'm about to wake his ass up.

"Okay, truth. Do you have a girlfriend?" I use my first question to ask him something super ridiculous and childish really, but I just want to be sure.

"Tatum, didn't we already go over this?" He gives me an annoying glance.

"Are you refusing to answer the question, Mr. Touchdown?" I cross my arms over my chest and pretend to put on a pouting face. He simply smirks and then answers.

"No, I do not have a girlfriend. I haven't actually been in a relationship since my junior year of high school," he admits freely and part of me wants to gasp, but I hold it in.

"High school? That was so long ago," I point out, uncrossing my arms and pulling my knees to my chest.

"Actually, that was only about seven years ago," he tells me, and I do the math in my head.

"Wait, so you're how old?"

"Twenty-four." Atlas has one leg stretched out in front of him and the other dangles off the bed. I see the light shadow of facial hair sprinkle across his face under the amber glow of the flashlight, his eyes watching me as I think over the answer he just gave.

"So, you're like the youngest player in the league right now," I say, in an attempt to get my mind off the dirty thoughts, because there is something forbidden lingering against the fact that he's also four years younger than me.

Atlas perks up, looking at me dead in the eyes as if I said something that shocked him.

"What?" I ask, feeling a blush creep up my neck.

"I don't meet a lot of women who are so passionate about a sport like football. I'm impressed you would know a fact like that. Yes, I actually am the youngest right now," he answers me.

Sure, not many women would know a fact like that, but that doesn't mean that I'm impressive. I just love football.

"You're just saying that to get in my pants, but regardless…thanks." I swipe a loose curl out of my face, not really knowing what to say from there.

Atlas turns his body to face me a bit more, straightening up before leaning in.

"Do you really think men will say they're impressed with something you said just to get in your pants?" He raises his eyebrow and I shrug my shoulders.

"Yes, I do."

He sits back a bit, the shorts he changed into after his shower hug his thighs like a second skin, same with the black t-shirt he threw on. Every hard ridge of his body peeking through, teasing my hungry eyes.

"Well, it's not fair for you to put that on me. If I wanted to get in your pants, I'd just tell you," he says.

"Okay then," I challenge, knowing that it's not fair to make him go a second round. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Do you want to get in my pants?" I ask, clear as day.

"Yes." Atlas says it like it's no big deal. Like him saying yes won't send me down a spiral of overthinking and a fixation on pulling apart his simple answer. Yes.

"You do?" I search for clarification, knowing I heard him say exactly what he meant to say. Heat swarms my skin and I squirm slightly in my position.

"Yes, I do." He leans back and lets his back rest against the headboard of the bed, while I lower my head, resting my forehead against the tops of my knees and let out a very tension-filled sigh, not even caring if he sees how flustered he just made me.

My body is starting to feel pricks of tingles all over, and I know he's watching me blush real hard right now. So I give myself a second to recoup, then change the topic.

"Okay, my turn," I tell him, letting my legs fall crisscross. I realize I've asked him a few questions, and all of them have just turned me on more and more.

"Truth or dare, Tatum?" he asks me, and I feel the flutter of butterflies wiggling their way around in my belly when he says my name the way he does.

"Truth," I say, knowing that I'm taking the easy way out.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Atlas asks me the question with the biggest smirk. He knows that I got stood up at the football game. He's just testing my patience.

"No, I don't," I answer him with a tilt of my head, and he just chuckles to himself.

"When's the last time you had a boyfriend?" he asks another question, but I stop myself from answering him.

"No way, that's two questions, pal." I wiggle my finger at him.

"You asked me about five questions on my turn, I think you owe me," he says, and I know he's not wrong.

"Okay, I'll answer that question but no more," I tell him shifting on the bed, not realizing that I got a little closer to him.

"How about new rules then." Atlas sits up and pulls his other leg up to the bed and stretches it out with the other one. "Anyone who breaks the one truth, one dare rule or anyone who refuses to answer the truth or act on the dare, strips. One piece at a time."

I watch as his eyes dance a devilish game over my figure, and again, he ignites me with his words. I don't think I've ever felt as much tension with anyone as I do with him. And it's the good, flirtatious kind of tension.

"Deal." I force myself to say as I stick out my hand as an offering to seal the deal. He shakes it and I return to answer my question.

"My ex broke up with me about two months ago," I say to him.

"Why'd he break up with you?" he asks, and I mentally celebrate a victory because he just broke his own rule. But I'm going to answer him just so I can make him strip.

"He said I was selfish, self-centered and inconsiderate." I know I don't really have to explain why, but part of me wants to. If only just to see the look on someone else's face when they find out how ridiculous the reason was that I got dumped for. "He said those things to me because I complained that he didn't make me come during sex. And that was after I told him I wasn't in the mood to suck his dick."

Wow. I can't believe I just said those words out loud, and to a male stranger for that matter. The only other person who knows that is my best friend. But I study the look on Atlas' face and it's a look of pure what the fuck.

"He said that to you?" he asks, and I just nod my head. I hate the way that made me feel, saying the reason out loud but actually living it when it happened, but it's for the better. I think we can all see who the inconsiderate one was.

I smile wide, Atlas looking at me like I've lost my mind, and I lean over to poke him in the chest. "Now strip big boy," I tease.

"What?" He sits up. "Why?"

"You broke the one truth rule. You asked me two, technically three, questions just now. But I'll go easy on you seeing as you don't have much on to begin with. T-shirt please." I hold out my hand as if to collect payment and he wastes no time.

He uses one arm to reach behind him, yanking the cotton shirt off his back and pulling it over his head. I watch carefully as his arm flexes and his abs come into view. Jesus, this man is hotter than hell.

He tosses the shirt to the ground, and smirks. "Better?" he asks, sin playing in his tone.

"Much." I drop my hand and imagine I take it across his chest, running my fingers over his smooth pecs then down to his abs.

"Eyes up here, Rival." I look up to see him grinning at me as I ogle him again. I don't even apologize to him before moving on.

"Truth or dare?" I ask him and he opts for the truth again.

We do this for a few more rounds, both of us only picking truth and sticking to our one truth rule. So far, he's the only one who's removed any clothing, leaving him in his shorts and boxers. I'm still dressed in his jersey and my socks. I'd be shit out of luck if I fucked this up, but I'm careful and don't ask more than one question.

But this next turn is his, and he surprises me when he switches up.

"Dare." The words spill from his lips, and I get giddy thinking of what I'm going to make him do.

"I dare you to make a post on your social media stating that the Saints are the better team." It's a weak dare, I know it is. But most dares are dirty dares and I'm not sure I have the will power to control myself right now, so I avoid it all together.

"No way," he says.

"Are you refusing to do the dare, Atlas?" I ask him and without hesitation, he jumps off the bed and pulls down his shorts.

My breath hitches, loudly. Heat invades my cheeks, liquid pools between my thighs as the sight of Atlas in his nothing but his boxers engulfs me. He's standing there so effortlessly, as if nothing is different.

But everything is different. I can see the outline of his cock as he stands so confidently in front of me and the way I thought I could tell his size from his jock strap earlier…well I was way off. He's much bigger.

I can see him starting to get hard the longer I stare at him.

"Rival," he whispers his nickname for me, and I nearly jump out of my skin.

"Shit, sorry. I should so not be staring." I'm not afraid to admit that I was staring, even if he hadn't caught me clear as day. I feel stupid for not caring that I just objectified him with my eyes, but how can you not miss something like that?

He climbs back onto the bed, and I have to scoot back just to distance myself.

"Truth or dare?" He aims his question at me, and I almost forget that we were still playing this silly little game.

"Dare." I decide to copy him, knowing I haven't done a dare yet.

I see Atlas try to think about what he's going to ask me to do. But I don't care at this point. I'm convinced I'll do anything he asks. I can't stop imagining him under me. I want to feel him.

Atlas moves closer to me on the bed. I feel my shoulders tense up. I ball up my fists and keep them firm in my lap as he inches nearer and nearer, closing up the space between us.

He reaches up and swipes a finger over my bruised cheek. It's gentle and soft, despite his fingers being rough from playing tackle sports. He caresses it for a few seconds. I let the pleasantness of the sting take over the feeling of lust only for a few moments before he's looking at me in my eyes.

"I really am sorry about this, by the way, Rival." he tells me before he leans in and kisses the spot where he'd hit me with that football.

My heart skips a beat and I pause, holding my breath as he presses his soft lips against my skin.

He moves away slightly before gripping my chin with his fingers and forcing me to make eye contact with him and whispers, "I dare you to kiss me."

Everything heats up as I untense my body and lean up to wrap my arms around his neck, letting our lips collide as he pulls me in by my waist.

It all happens so fast; I don't think I could remember my name if someone had asked. All of my attention gets thrown into this kiss that takes over every nerve in my body.

He lifts me up so that I'm perched on my knees, his fingers dig into my ass as I press my chest against his; our tongues swirling together in a wet dance of passion. He bites my lower lip and I let out a whimper; I can feel his dick pressing into my stomach and my panties start to get wet.

It starts to feel like way too much way too fast, so in a flurry of heat and overwhelming passion, I decide to push off him. Our lips pull away reluctantly as I shove gently against his chest.

"Is everything okay?" he asks me as I trace my swollen lip with my fingers. Fuck, everything is more than okay but I need a distraction. I need a minute to collect myself because that was starting to get dangerous.

"Truth or dare?" I ask, causing Atlas to look at me like I've lost it, but he doesn't back down.

"Truth." His voice sounds husky and intimate, breath still coming and going fast, as he looks at the bed and then back up at me, eyelids heavy with lust.

"Tell me a secret." I sit back on my butt, my knees still under me but it gives me a little bit of space as I enjoy the lingering effects of the kiss he just gave me.

I focus on Atlas' expression, eager for him to tell me something that will take my mind off of how fucking badly I want to strip the rest of his clothes off and make use of the rest of our night under these sheets.

But I don't think I ever expected the next words to come out of his mouth.

I asked for a distraction, and holy shit, I got one.