Kissing Emma for the first time was a moment that Tatum had thought about countless times, wasted probably hours of her life fantasizing about, but those were never the words that came out of Emma's mouth at the end of the fantasy. It was usually something much more romantic. Her eyes were still closed when the brunette pulled away, but they quickly fluttered open, eyebrows furrowing a little as she looked at her friend closely. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked back, again as if Emma were the one acting strangely, asking weird questions, doing weird things.
She did taste like menthol, and for Tatum, that was a newly discovered turn on. It was a taste she associated with Emma already, though usually from borrowing her cigarettes and not from her lips.
"What, you didn't like it?" the redhead inquired softly, without missing a beat. Though they had pulled back a little, she kept her hand gently on Emma's thigh, she didn't shift any further away on the bed. She kept close. "You sure?" She didn't wait for an answer, unsure really what she was supposed to do, but knowing enough to wing it. She moved quickly, leaning back in, but aggressively pressing her lips to Emma's neck this time, moving up close along her jaw. It felt right; it sure made her feel right. Her stomach was alive with butterflies. It wasn't like she had ever come onto someone before, not in her entire life, and seduction wasn't exactly her forte.. but she could change that.