After We Fell (59 page)

H
ardin's mouth leaves a trail of moisture up my stomach and along my chest before he finally places a soft kiss on my temple. I lie there on the floor next to him, trying to catch my breath and relive the events leading up to this moment. I had every intention of having a serious conversation with him about his—no,
our
—lack of communication, but watching him angrily assault that punching bag had me gasping and moaning his name within minutes.

I lean up onto my elbow and look down at him. “I want to reciprocate.”

“Be my guest.” He grins, his lips coated with my moisture.

I move quickly, taking him into my mouth before he catches a single breath.

“Fuck,” he groans. The sensual noise causes my mouth to fall open too far, and he slips out, down across my tongue. Hardin bucks his hips off the floor to meet my lips again, pressing himself inside my mouth again.

“Please, Tess,” he begs.

I can taste myself on him, but I barely notice it as he moans my name.

“I'm not . . . fuck, I'm not going to last long,” he pants, and I speed up. All too soon he tugs my hair and lifts my head back.

“I'm going to come in your mouth, then take you to the bed and fuck you again.” He runs his thumb over my lips, and playfully, I bite down gently on the pad of his finger. His head falls
back, and his grip on my hair tightens as I work my mouth on him.

I can feel his cock twitching, his legs stiffening as he gets closer. “Fuck, Tessa . . . so good, baby,” he groans as his warmth fills my mouth. I take it all, swallowing all he has to give. Standing to my feet, I wipe at my lips with one finger.

“Get dressed,” he commands, tossing my bra to me.

As Hardin and I hastily get dressed, I catch him staring at me time and time again. Not that it comes as all that much of a surprise . . . I haven't stopped staring at him either.

“Ready?” he asks.

I nod, and Hardin turns the lights off, closes the door behind us as if nothing happened in that room, and leads me down the hallway. We walk in comfortable silence, a vast difference from the tension between us earlier. When we reach the part of the hallway just outside my bedroom, he stops me by gently grabbing hold of my elbow.

“I should have told you about that nightmare instead of distancing myself from you,” he says. The dim night-lights along the floor cast just enough light onto his face to allow me to see the pure honesty and softness behind his eyes.

“We both just need to learn to communicate.”

“You're so much more understanding than I deserve you to be,” he whispers and lifts my hand to his face. His lips press against each of my knuckles, and my knees nearly buckle at the touching gesture.

Hardin opens the door and takes my hand in his as he leads me to the bed.

H
ardin's hands are still covered in rough black tape, yet they feel so tender wrapped around mine.

“I hope I haven't worn you out.” He grins, brushing his taped knuckles across my cheekbone.

“No.” The majority of the tension that I was feeling in my body has been released by his fingers. However, the not-so-subtle ache for him is still there. It always is.

“This is okay, right? I mean, you wanted space . . . and this isn't exactly space.” His arms wrap around me as we hesitantly stand in front of the bed.

“We still need space, but this is what I want right now,” I explain. I'm sure this doesn't make much sense to Hardin, because really, it doesn't make much sense to me, especially now, when his overwhelming presence is right here in front of me.

“Me, too,” he breathes and dips his head down to my neck. “This is what's good for us . . . to be close this way,” he whispers. His arms tighten around my body, and he uses his knees to guide us onto the bed as his lips gently suck on my tingling skin. I can feel him growing hard against my leg; he's ready to go again, and so am I.

“I've missed you so fucking much . . . I've missed your body,” he hisses. His hands travel under my thin cotton T-shirt, and he pulls it up over my head. My ponytail catches on the neckline, but Hardin gently untangles my hair, and his fingers reach behind me to pull the band out, letting my hair fall against the mattress
beneath me. He gently presses his lips to my forehead; his mood has changed since he ravished me at the gym. He was rough there, sexy and commanding. But now he's being my Hardin, the soft and gentle man hiding inside of a tough exterior.

“The way your pulse”—his lips hover inches from mine, and his fingers press against the tender beating in my neck as he breathes—“goes fucking crazy when I touch you, especially here”—his free hand slides down over my stomach and into the front of my pajama pants.

“You're always so ready for me.” He groans, running his middle finger up and down. I feel my skin catch fire—it's a steady burn instead of an explosion, as fits his gentle touch. Hardin removes his hand, then brings his finger to his lips. “So sweet,” he says, and his wet tongue slowly darts out to cover the tip of his finger.

He knows exactly what he's doing to me. He knows how much his dirty words affect me and how much they make me want him. He knows, and he's doing a damn good job at making me burn with desire from the inside out.

I
know exactly what I'm doing to her. I know how much she loves my filthy mouth, and when I look down at her, she doesn't even bother to conceal it.

“You're being such a good girl,” I say with a dark smile, eliciting a moan from her without so much as a touch to her flaming skin.

“Tell me what you want,” I whisper into her ear. I can practically hear her erratic pulse under her skin. I'm driving her crazy, and I fucking love it.

“You,” she says, desperately, vaguely.

“I want it slow. I want you to feel every single moment that you were away from me.”

I tug on her pajamas and give her a commanding look. Without a word she nods and pulls them down. Then I press my thumb into her thin cotton panties, tearing them from her body. Her eyes are wide and dark, her lips pink and swollen. The force of my movement pulls her into me, and she wraps both of her small hands around my arms, hooking them with her beautiful little fingers.

“Grab the condom,” she reminds me.

Fuck, it's across the hall in the room that no one could have possibly expected me to actually stay in, with Tessa only meters away. Curiously, however, the nightstand was stocked with condoms upon my arrival.

“You
grab the condom.” I playfully fight back, knowing there's
no chance in hell I'm having her scurry across the hallway half dressed. I gently push my hands under her back and unsnap her bra, then slide the black straps down before tossing the whole contraption onto the floor behind us.

“Cond—” she starts to remind me.

But her own sharp intake of breath interrupts the thought as I suck on her newly exposed nipples. She's so sensitive to my touch, and I want to savor every second of her.

“Shh . . .” I silence her by biting down on the sensitive flesh.

But after a moment, I do climb to my feet. I don't waste my time getting dressed. At least I'm wearing boxers; even if I wasn't, I sure as hell wouldn't be wasting my time putting clothes on right now.

I return to the room, four condoms in hand . . . I'm a little ambitious and overprepared, but with the way Tessa is behaving tonight, we may need the entire drawerful.

“I missed you,” she sweetly remarks, a shy smile covering her face. And then there's a flash of embarrassment in her eyes when she realizes she's said the words aloud.

“And I you,” I reply, which sounds as cheesy as I expected it to.

Without any further Hallmark statements, I move to join her on the bed again. She's sitting up, completely topless, with her back against the headboard and her knees slightly bent. She's completely naked; only the cream satin sheets drape over the top of her thighs, blending in with her creamy skin.

I have to control myself at the sight. I have to stop myself from literally diving onto the bed, ripping the sheets away from her, and taking what is mine. I want tonight . . . well . . . morning now, to go smoothly, and I don't want to rush it.

Smiling, I stare at the woman on the bed. She's staring back at me, her eyes soft and warm, her cheeks painted a deep pink. When I join her on the bed, eager hands move straight to the lining
of my boxers, tugging them down my thighs. Her feet finish the job, and she gathers me in her hand, squeezing gently.

“Christ,” I hiss, momentarily losing my focus on everything except her touch. She begins to slowly pump, her small wrist twisting slightly as it moves up and down, and I fucking love the way she knows exactly how to touch me. As she lays herself down, her hand keeps a steady rhythm, and I give her the condom, silently instructing her what to do next.

She bites her lip and quickly obliges. As the latex rolls down me, I silently curse at her, and myself, for never following through with the birth-control plan. The feeling of skin on skin with her is heavenly, and now that I've felt it, I crave more and more.

She's quick to climb on top of me and straddle my waist, my dick only a breath away from slipping inside her.

“Wait . . .” I stop her by gently wrapping my hands around her hips and laying her back down beside me on the bed.

Confusion flashes in her beautiful eyes. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing . . . I just want to kiss you a little more first,” I assure her and cup my hand around the nape of her neck to bring her face closer to mine. My mouth covers hers, and I hover over her body, forcing myself to take this slow. With her naked body pressed against mine, I take a moment to appreciate that after all the shit I've put her through, she's still here, she's always fucking here, and it's about goddamned time I make it worth her while. I support my weight with one arm and lie on top of her, parting her legs with my knee.

“I love you . . . so much. You still know that, don't you?” I ask her between strokes of my tongue over hers.

She nods, but for a dreadful moment, Zed's face appears in my mind. His confession of love for my Tessa, and her thankful acceptance of it. “I love you, too,” she had moaned in her sleep. A slow shiver travels through me, and I pause.

Noticing my hesitation, she pushes her fingers into my unruly hair and takes possession of my mouth with hers.

“Come back to me,” she begs.

That's all it takes.

Everything fades except for the softness of her body underneath mine, the wetness between her legs as I slowly push into her. The feeling is exquisite. No matter how many times I've taken her, it won't ever be enough.

“I love you.” She repeats the words. I wrap one arm under her so our bodies are pressed as closely together as possible. I lick my dry lips and bury my head in her neck again, whispering dirty things into her ear and moving to kiss her every time she moans my name.

I feel the buildup of pressure rising from my spine, igniting every fucking vertebra. Tessa's fingernails dig into my back, across my shoulder blades, as if she's reaching for the words inked across my skin. The words meant for her, and only her.

“I never wish to be parted from you from this day on,”
it says. And I'm going to do everything I have to do in order to keep my permanent promise.

I lean up to look at her. One hand still rests under her back; the other travels up her torso and across both of her breasts, and rests just below her throat.

“Tell me how it feels,” I say with a grunt. I'm barely holding on to the pleasure that is coursing though me. I want to keep it there for both of us, to make it last longer. I want to create this space that we can both inhabit.

My movements quicken, and she moves one of her hands down to fist the bedsheets. Every sinful twist of my hips, every violent thrust into her waiting body, intensifies and further seals the power she has over me.

“So good, Hardin . . . so good . . .” Her voice is thick and hoarse, and I swallow the rest of her moans like the greedy bastard
I am. I feel her body begin to go rigid, and I can't wait any longer. With a soft cry of her name, I spill into the condom with slow and sloppy thrusts before collapsing, barely breathing, next to her.

I reach over and pull her body to mine, and when I open my eyes, a sheer layer of sweat covers her silky skin, her eyes are open, and she's staring at the ceiling fan.

“You okay?” I ask her. I know I was a little rough toward the end, but I also know how much she loves that shit.

“Yeah, of course.” She leans over to plant a kiss on my bare chest and climbs out of the bed. I groan in disappointment when she pulls her white T-shirt down over her head, covering her body.

“Here's your headband.” She smiles, proud of her corny remark, and she tosses the sweat-dampened T-shirt I wrapped around my head in the gym onto the bed. I roll the fabric up and wrap it around my head again just to get a reaction out of her.

“You don't like it?” I ask, and she giggles.

“I do, actually.” Tessa is really putting on a show as she bends down to pick up her black panties from the floor and shimmies them up her thighs. That she isn't wearing a bra is wonderfully apparent as she shakes her body.

“Good. It's easier this way.” I point to the contraption on my head.

I really need a fucking haircut, but Steph's friend, a lavender-haired chick named Mads, has always been the one to cut it. My blood begins to boil at the thought of Steph.
That stupid
fucking . . .

“Earth to Hardin!” Tessa's voice brings me out of my hateful thoughts.