Sticks and Stones

Twenty-Nine: Rated M. Again.

She huffed out sharply as she finally reached the other side of the double doors. Tatum quickly grew confused when she didn't see Brady. Did she imagine that entire encounter? Was she losing it that badly? Tatum almost turned back to the classroom before noticing a door slightly ajar just down the hall. She narrowed her eyes, making her way down the hall.

Just as she passed the door, a hand shot out and grabbed her. Tatum squealed as she was yanked into the closet. Brady pressed her against the door, instantly capturing her lips with his own as he locked the door behind her. His hand rested on the front of her throat, the other hand running down the side of her body. She moaned as she smiled into the kiss, pleasantly surprised.

"Could've just waited for me," Tatum reminded him breathlessly.

He quirked his head to the side. "Gotta keep it interesting."

Brady guided her to some drawers in the corner, not breaking the kiss. She pulled her lips from his briefly to glance behind her, trying to think of a way to get up on the drawers. His hands went for her rear, cupping and squeezing at the flesh. Tatum quickly realized what he was planning on doing and panic surged through her, placing a hand on his chest to stop him.

Brady looked at her with concern. "You okay?"

"You're not about to try and lift me up here, are you?" Tatum asked feebly, suddenly feeling incredibly out of place.

"I was going to," Brady said slowly like it was no big deal.

She gave him a blank look. "Brady."

His eyes darted to the side in confusion. "Tatum?"

"I—" Tatum started before cutting herself off, not meeting his eyes. "You can't lift me. I'm..."

Embarrassment flooded through her and she really wished she could skip past this part. Tatum wasn't an insecure person, but that wasn't to say that she wanted the humiliation of someone trying and failing to lift her. She was well-aware that she weighed more than other girls she knew. She wasn't the type that just got lifted up like she weighed nothing. Tatum had curves everywhere. She learned to appreciate that about her body, but still. She didn't want to have to suffer through someone being unable to lift her up.

She huffed out, finally meeting his eyes. "You can't lift me, Brady."

Realization seemed to hit him after a moment and his eyes softened. Tatum turned her gaze again, worried that she ruined the mood. She scolded herself internally, hating that she ruined it. She should have just figured out a way to get up there on her own. Now, Brady would just pity her. His fingers trailed to her face and pushed a stray strand behind her ear before his hand moved to her jaw, angling her face to the side.

Brady bent down, lips beginning to trail across her throat. His voice was low and husky as he asked, "Can I go ahead and prove you wrong?"

"Brady—" she started in a worried voice.

"I fucking love your body," Brady cut her off with a groan, squeezing at the flesh on her bottom. "Every part of it. Every part of you drives me insane. Let me show you how much I love your body."

Tatum clenched her jaw before deciding to take the chance. He pulled back from her throat and looked at her carefully, waiting for whatever she would say. Tatum sighed out, nodding once. "Fine."

He shot her a smirk before cupping her butt again and lifting her up with ease. Tatum's eyes widened as her arms went for his shoulders. He placed her on the drawers with a pointed look on his face. She tutted her tongue, momentarily surprised. "Oh."

Brady chuckled before tugging at the bottom of her shirt. She flung it off, leaving her in her bra. He peppered his lips across her chest and she groaned, running her fingers through his hair. He raised his eyebrows at her. "You really have a thing for my hair, huh?"