Hardcore Volume 3 (10 page)

I closed my eyes and took a breath. And then I opened them to face fate.

The concrete ledge was rough under my palms as I hauled myself over and looked around, frantically scanning the rooftop.

When my eyes found him, the sight almost brought me to my knees.

Van’s back was to me, wide and strong as he sat on the ledge in the falling rain, looking out over the city, as solid as the building we had climbed. I couldn’t move. He was there, right there, waiting for me.

He turned as if he sensed me behind him, and when his eyes met mine, the world stopped spinning. I felt everything — the soft pat of rain against my cheeks, the cool chill in the air, the pull to him so strong that my hair stood on end as I watched him stand. His eyes never left mine, his face full of relief and longing as he took a step toward me.
 

Within a breath, my feet flew, carrying me to him.
 

We crashed into each other — a tangle of arms, bodies flush and lips pressed together, telegraphing everything we felt, everything we wanted. We spun around from the force as his hands wound around my waist, up my back, into my hair.
 

I pulled away, breathless, and looked into his eyes. “You’re here.”

He smiled. “You came.”

The words burned my aching throat, the words I would say a million times if I had to. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” He kissed me again, his lips soft against mine. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

I shook my head. “Please, don’t apologize to me, Van.”

He set me down and moved my wet hair from my face. “I got the letter. I came out of my darkroom found it there, staring up at me. To know you’d been right there and left …”

I looked up at him, into his eyes so deep. “I carried it around for days before I came to the gallery. I just couldn’t keep it anymore. I needed to let it go, but I wanted you to know, needed you to know. When I came in and saw my pictures … I don’t know. It was too much. I couldn’t face you. I couldn’t hear those words again.”

He cupped my cheeks and kissed the corners of my lips, first one, then the other. “I’m sorry, Cory. I’m so sorry. I was still too hurt, too angry. Confused, because even with everything that happened, I still wanted you. I can’t understand it, the way I feel about you. Never in my life—”

I stopped him with a kiss, brow bent with pain and hurt, breath heavy with emotion. I didn’t open my eyes when I pulled away, and he pressed his forehead to mine.

“I did this. Not you,” I whispered.

“It’s over now. I understand. But it’s even more than that, Cory. I don’t care. I don’t care about your past, and I don’t even care that you stole from me. I want you. I want to keep you. Just don’t lie to me again. Please.”

“I promise,” I whispered.

“I wish you’d told me from the beginning. I could have helped you.”

“I didn’t know what Jade was capable of, and I couldn’t sacrifice Jill’s life. I had no choice, Van. I couldn’t take the chance.”

He squeezed me tighter, pulling me closer until I was tucked under his chin. “I know.”

My nose burned, and a sob caught in my chest when I tried to take a breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” He held me for a long time in the rain before whispering in my ear, “Come with me.”

“Anywhere,” I whispered back.
 

Van pulled away and grabbed my hand, tugging me toward the ledge. He stepped up on it and looked back at me, smiling wide before he let go of my hand and backflipped onto the roof below with a whoop. I smiled and followed.

WE RAN THROUGH THE city with the rain beating down on us, across roofs and buildings, down fire escapes and up until we found our way up to The Kyle Building. Every time that I’d been there had been under circumstances I couldn’t control, but this time, everything was right. He knew the truth.
 

I followed him through the access door, shoes squeaking on the stairs as we hurried down. We were soaked, and I should have been freezing. But I may as well have been on fire.

Everything was in high relief as we approached his door — the hum of the air conditioner, the small scratch on his door, the drop of water rolling down his neck as he unlocked the bolt. He opened the door and stepped inside, though I could barely breathe as I stood in the threshold, rooted to the spot. The last time I’d been there had been the hardest of all, the deepest cut. It gaped open again at the reminder. His apartment was dark, the city bright beyond his windows. I heard the clink as he set his keys down, his voice as he said my name.

Van stepped out of the shadows, his eyes soft. He reached for me.

I took his hand.

As I walked into the apartment, he clicked on the lights, though they were dimmed. The can lights over the Rothko lit up, and I stopped again.
 

It was gone, and in its place was a black-and-white photograph of me. I stood on the edge of Logan Tower, hair blowing across my face, sun shining in front of me as I looked over the edge. I looked strong and broken, like I could shatter and fly away. My breath hitched.

I squeezed his hand.
 

He stopped and stepped behind me as we stared at the photograph. “I couldn’t keep it here. Not after everything. I took it down, and the wall was so empty. And then I knew. I knew I had to fill it with you.”

Guilt washed over me. “I did this to you, Van. I ruined your trust, your faith. I robbed you of more than the painting, and I don’t deserve you, not after what I’ve done.”

He turned me around, looked down at me in the low light of the room. “That’s not your decision to make.”

“But how can you forgive me? I’ve made you question everything. Why do you want me when all I’ve done is hurt you?”

“You hurt me because you had no choice, and what you did never changed how I felt about you, not at the heart of it, even when I wished it had. I want you because I do. I can’t explain it, and I don’t want to. I don’t need to.” He cupped my cheeks, lifted my face. “Now that I know you’re not running because you’re afraid of
us,
I’m not going to take no for an answer. You can’t leave me because you think you don’t deserve me. I don’t accept that. It’s my choice to make, and I choose you.”

I stared into his eyes for an eternity as the broken pieces of my heart flew together. He wanted me, and I wanted him. He forgave me, gave me a second chance, a chance I thought I’d lost forever. No more lies. No more secrets. Just a chance to start over. To be together.

I touched his chest, feeling his hot skin under the surface of his wet, cold shirt. He trembled under my palms as I leaned into him, but he didn’t move otherwise.

“Tell me you choose me, Cory. Tell me you feel the same.” His words were a whisper, as commanding as they were soft, pleading.

“I do.”

It seemed that he barely moved, but he was everywhere, all at once. Kissing me. Touching me. Holding me. We dropped to our knees, lips never parting, arms wound around each other. His hands slipped into my wet hair, keeping me pressed against him. As if I would ever leave.
 

My hands roamed up and down his chest, feeling every curve of his abs, his chest, his nipples hard against my fingers. But I wanted his skin. I peeled up the hem of his shirt, and he broke away to pull it over his head as I shrugged out of my jacket. His lips found my neck, sucking gently, and I arched into him with a sigh as he trailed kisses down my shoulder, slipped the strap of my tank over the bend and down my arm. He palmed my breast, squeezing softly as he hummed against my skin. His own neck was at my lips, and I took advantage, wanting to take everything he had to give and give it back to him.

His skin was hot and wet against my tongue, tasting like rain and salt as I licked and kissed him until it wasn’t enough. I needed more. My body ached for more.
 

I shifted, pulled off my tank and shed my bra as he watched, panting, dragging his fingers across my collarbone and jaw. My lips connected with his as soon as I was free. Our bodies pressed together, slick and hot, and he gripped my shoulder blades, fingers twisted into my wet hair that hung at my back, kissing me like I was the only one.
 

He laid me down, though he leaned back again to look me over for a long moment, and I did the same. My eyes traced the lines of his chest and abs down to his cock straining against the fabric of his sweats. He laid his fingers over my heart, trailed them across my chest to graze my nipple, to trace the curve of my breast and down my ribs as I trembled under his touch. When he reached the button of my jeans, he unfastened them with his eyes locked on mine, eyes burning with emotion. He tugged them down my thighs, down my legs, hooked his hands under the heels of my boots and pulled them off, and my pants followed.
 

Only my panties were left. I watched him lay his palm on my stomach, slide it up and into the bend of my waist, and grip me hard. My pussy clenched with his fingers, clit aching.

“Van,” I whispered.

My legs were spread, hooked over his thighs, and he bent down, kissing my stomach, moaning softly against my skin as he made his way down. He shifted to get between my thighs, rested them on his shoulders, slid my panties over to expose me to him. His breath was hot on me, and I flexed my legs, sucking in a breath when he licked a slow line up my pussy and opened his mouth, closing it over my clit. A shock bolted up my body, hips rolling under him as he curled his arms under my thighs, palms open around my waist, pulling me down into his mouth.
 

He licked and sucked until I contracted against him once, twice. He pulled away, leaving me breathless.
 

“Please,” I begged.

His chest heaved as he grabbed my panties and pulled, shredding them with a rip and a jolt that jostled my breasts. He raised up and dropped his pants, grabbing a condom from his wallet. My eyes were on his cock as he rolled it on, then on his strong hand as he stroked himself, watching me watch him. He lowered his body, arching over me, dipping his head to meet my lips. I closed my eyes when he kissed me, pulling my bottom lip into his mouth as I sucked on his, softly, reverently. His hands were in my hair, our arms wound around each other. But as much as my body needed him, I realized then that I needed him more. I needed this. The quiet worship. To be connected.
 

Giving myself to him was never a question. I was always his.

He broke away, lips parted as he looked me in the eye and slid into me.

The motion was slow, easy, full of care and quiet joy. He pulled out just as sweetly, rolling his hips to fill me again, achingly slow. He dropped his head, buried it in the curve of my neck as our bodies met in waves. His weight against me was everything, the feel of him inside of me pushing me closer. It could have lasted forever.
 

His movement never came faster, only harder, and every flex of his hips was more intense than the one before. He laid his hot lips against my neck, propped himself on his forearms. When he broke away, he looked down at me, slipped in slow and flexed hard when he reached the end, pressing against my clit with a soft roll. I moaned and closed my eyes without meaning to as he pulled out, and I held my breath, anticipating him. When he drove into me again, my back arched, legs flexed, spurring him on. He slammed into me once more, my heart booming in my chest as he came. The sound of my name from his lips, the feeling of him pulsing inside of me was too much. I followed with a breathy cry, a soft moan, an aching body, a mended heart.

He collapsed on top of me, shifted to roll us onto our sides, pulling me into his chest for a moment as our bodies slowed.
 

His voice rumbled against me when he finally spoke. “Did you feel that?”

My heart ached from the emotion. “I did,” I said softly.

“I’ve never …”

“Me neither.”

His hands found their way into my hair. “This is why I couldn’t forget you. This is why I couldn’t let you go. I don’t know how to explain it, Cory. It’s more than I have words for.”

I looked up at him. “If it weren’t for you, I would never have been free. I’d never have known what it was like. You’ve given that to me. How can I ever repay you?”

“Stay.”

I smiled up at him with tears in my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He kissed me again with reverent ownership, the slow pressure of his lips saying more than he ever could. When he pulled away, he smiled down at me, the same as it ever was, but deeper, heavy with the weight of all we’d been through to get where we were. We’d been galvanized by it, sent through the flames and out the other end stronger than we were before.
 

“What now?” he asked, thumbing my cheek.

“I don’t even care, as long as I’m with you.”

He bent to lay little kisses down my neck. “How about a shower.” He kissed again. “Then I’ll cook for you.” Another kiss. “And then I’m taking you to bed.” The last kiss lingered.

My fingers wound through his hair. “I am one hundred percent on board with this plan.”

“Good,” he said against my skin and sat, then knelt, scooping me up. A string of giggles bubbled out of me as he carried me to his shower.