Pulled Within (24 page)

 “Finding you naked in the shower is even better than finding you in my clothes.” His breath licked my shoulders, and a shiver
trickled down toward my navel.

“I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

I tried to turn around. He wouldn’t let me. “That was my plan.” His arms pressed harder against me; his mouth turned hungrier. My
head tilted back into his chest and I leaned into him, feeling his
nakedness
behind me. His hand crawled down between my inner thighs and
pushed them apart. He stopped me before I shifted. “Don’t move. Just take everything I’m about to give you.”

Since the moment he’d come back into my life, all I had done
was take from him. He was completely in control. He was practically all I
thought about. My body responded to him. It became more evident
each day that he really did own it, so I didn’t try to dissuade him or
promise him things in return for what he gave.

If he wanted something from me, it sounded like he would take that, too.

The water pounded over my head. I closed my eyes and focused
on his fingers as they traveled around my breasts. They rubbed in circles
and tugged at the sensitive mounds rising beneath his touch. His free
hand spread over my stomach. Every reaction that came from me
started in my core
—
the quivering, the shuddering, the goose bumps.
The tightness that gripped me as I waited for his next move. If he
was
testing how far he could take me, I made sure to show him it was
working.
I bucked when he pinched; I arched my back when he used the pad
of
his finger. I ground into him when he lowered his hand to my inner thighs.

“Breathe,” he whispered into my neck.

I pulled my face out of the water and flipped my hair back. It fell
over his chest and down the top of his abs. His nipple piercing
peeked
through my locks and pushed against my shoulder. The metal wasn’t cold like I expected it to be. The shower had warmed it along with his skin.

“Mmm,” he groaned. “You keep pushing into me like that, and
I’m going to punish you. I’m going to make you beg for it.” His lips
closed around the bottom of my earlobe; his hand was once again
between my legs. It came from underneath and cupped me. “Is this what you want?”

I looked down to see the tips of his fingers. “Yes…”

“Like this?” His skin, so hot and wet, almost felt like a tongue.
He
used his fingers to draw a line that ran down the middle of me,
passing over the exact spot that was throbbing for his touch.

My back jerked against him; my legs spread farther apart. “Just like that. Now give me more.”

The arm that was on my breast moved up and tightened around my neck. His thumb rubbed over my lips, pressing into my mouth. I
sucked
his fingertip, my teeth gently dragging over his knuckle while my
tongue circled it.

“Your mouth is going to get you in trouble,” he panted, “but
that’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“I just want
—
” His fingers entered me, and my words morphed into a moan. My hands flattened against the wall to bear my weight.

“Fuck my fingers,” he ordered.

I moved my hips back and forth, grinding them in a circle so I could feel his fingertips twist inside me. The wall had become too
slippery, so I reached behind me and surrounded his neck the same way he had
surrounded mine. I ran my hands through his hair and pulled as
hard as I could.

“Fuck them harder, Rae.”

His arm left my neck, and I felt another finger touching me,
pressing
on my clit and circling while I moved against him. With all his
attention
on my body, on the spots that could bring me to that place, I could focus on nothing other than getting there. I pumped faster as the build began to spark. My hands fell from his hair. The intensity in my stomach increased. I knew it would only take a few more passes before it
would peak.

“You’re tightening around me, baby. I can feel how close you
are…but you’re not going to come on my fingers.”

His hands left me completely.

The heat from him standing behind me was gone. Then his arms bent under my knees and around my waist as he picked me up. I flew through the cold air, this new sensation floating over my skin as
we
moved hurriedly into the bedroom. He tossed me onto the bed, the comforter turning damp from my hair and the drops rolling off my skin.

Hart disappeared briefly and returned with a small foil packet, licking between my legs as he put it on. “I can taste how close you were.”

My legs spread even wider. “Don’t stop.” I gripped the blanket between my fingers, the build once again threatening to peak.
“Please… don’t stop.”

“You taste so fucking good.”

I ran my other hand through his hair, the strands slick from the
shower. When I pulled them, he looked up at me with his piercing
metallic
gaze. His fingers were inside me; his tongue was flat against me,
slowly moving up and dipping down before starting to climb again.

The ache was a teasing torture.

His fingers moved out and up to my navel, lightly pressing to
feel
how hard he was making me quiver. “Are you happy with just my
tongue inside you…or do you want more?”

“More,” I breathed. “I want more.”

He climbed up my body, my legs automatically straddled his
waist,
his fingers pressing into the bed next to my neck and he filled me. Completely. Then he stayed still while I stretched to accommodate his size. With his mouth on my lips, his tongue delicately circled
mine.

“I forgot how good this felt with you.”

This wasn’t the rushed, urgent grinding I had done to tease him
in
the shower. This was a slower, much more erotic pace. We flowed in
and out of each other like water. His movements were all about
pleasuring me, figuring out what he could do to drive me further. It was more
than what he did between my legs; it was how he kissed me, how his
hands navigated my body, how his mouth triggered passion in the
same places his fingers drove out the pain.

“You’re so tight, I can feel you pulsing around my cock,” he
said,
pulling away from my lips. My back arched and his mouth dipped
to
my nipples just long enough for him to flick both. “I want you to
come—now. For me.”

My body had already been so close so many times.

Those words were all I needed.

I felt the jolt as it built and exploded within my stomach, the rest of my body turning completely numb.

“
Fuck, Rae…Fuck!
” he screamed. As his thrusting quickened, his
teeth nipped my bottom lip, and he sucked it into his mouth. He shuddered
against me before he fell completely. Slowly unraveling from my body, he
slid next to me on the bed and pulled me onto his chest.

I gently pushed down on his nipple, in the spot where I could
feel
the metal underneath. I remembered how the ends of each puncture spread to hold the rod. Those used to be some of his most sensitive spots.

“You used to love to bite on it,” he said, “especially when it was
healing.” He was inside my head again. “Do you remember what
our bet was?”

“Holy shit, that’s right.” The reason we had gotten the piercings was all over a bet. Once mine was done, Hart had decided to get one,
too. He let me choose the spot, so I chose his nipple, out of spite. I
didn’t expect to like it as much as I had. “I don’t remember what it was,” I
said. I was sure it was over something silly, something that didn’t
even matter from a time that had been so carefree. “But I’m glad I won.”

He lifted my hand and held the tips of my fingers against his
lips. The warmth from his breath heated them. “You didn’t win.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No way,” he laughed, kissing the tops of my nails. “I never
would
have let you win. That doesn’t sound like me at all.” I nuzzled my
face against his arm. His scar was just a few inches above my eyes. “My plan was to have more than just your belly button pierced. Had things
lasted, you’d probably have holes all over your body.”

He could have punched rods through every part of me if that
had meant he would have stayed in Bar Harbor.

But things hadn’t lasted.

And he’d broken my fucking heart. No piercing required.

My hand slowly crawled up his arm, resting on the thick white
line that I traced back and forth.

Back and forth
.

It somewhat resembled mine, though they felt nothing alike.
Mine
wasn’t a straight line; it was jagged and circular, rougher in the
center where the skin had broken open and healed savagely.

“It was shoulder surgery,” he said, finally addressing it.

“I thought so.” It sounded like it was still painful for him. “We
don’t have to talk about it.” I figured if we didn’t talk about his, I wouldn’t have to talk about mine.

“No, you should know.” He blew out a burst of air. It wasn’t a
sigh.
This was deeper, more emotional. “There was separation, complete
tearing
throughout. I dislocated my elbow, too. A whole bunch of damage.
Four surgeries, and the end of a career that hadn’t even started.”

“And now?” I asked.

“It hurts worse when it rains.”

Scars and rain. We were more similar than I’d thought.

Mine also hurt worse when it rained, but for much different
reasons. Hart didn’t know anything about my fear of an angry sky dropping its fury down on me. I hated to think what would happen when we finally discussed it.

“It also hurts when I think about what could have been,” he said.

I wasn’t going to try to spin that into something positive. My
mom had done that when I’d been in the hospital, with my face and body
trying to heal from everything that had happened. She kept telling
me
the stitches and scars would give me character. Yeah…real fucking character. Every time she spoke, I gave the narcotics pump a
squeeze,
hoping the dose would make me pass out so I wouldn’t have to
listen to her anymore.

“My dad’s favorite quote is that everything happens for a
reason,” he said.

It sounded stale and hollow. “Do you really believe that?”

He thought for a second. “Not until now. Had I gotten into the league, I wouldn’t be partners with my parents. I wouldn’t have
purchased their
house.” He rolled to his side so we faced each other. “I wouldn’t have come back to Bar Harbor. And I don’t mean that in the way it sounds.”

I knew what he meant.

“I think it’s all happened like it was supposed to. I want to be
here, Rae. With you.” He reached forward to brush the hair from my eye, but I stopped him, holding his hand in mine and looking down at his knuckles. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I forget sometimes.”

It felt ridiculous: his hand had been all over my body—his
fingers had been
inside
me. But when it came to my cheeks or my hair, I still wasn’t ready for him to touch me.

Twenty-one days
.

I kissed his palm, wondering how he could forget things I hadn’t
even told him about. “I know. Soon.” That was probably a lie, but I
didn’t
know what else to say. I released his hand and traced his piercing
again. “You didn’t give me a chance to bite it, you know.”

“Mmm.” His bottom lip brushed the edge of my ear. “I can’t
help it. All I think about is your body. I don’t want to be distracted while I’m taking what I’ve been dreaming about for so long.”

I laughed…or maybe it was more of a sigh. I couldn’t tell, I had
lost control again. “You’ve been dreaming about this?”

His hands clamped my sides. He rolled onto his back and
brought
me on top of him. “I never stopped. Especially after I hurt my
shoulder.”

“Is that why you’re
really
here?”

The way he looked at me changed. It was as though he was
about to admit something for the first time. “It’s one of the reasons.”

He had come here knowing I could have been dating someone—
or
married, even, and not wanting to even speak to him after all our
years apart. Still, he’d taken the chance.

I didn’t know how I felt about that.

“When we dated,” he told me, “you said you only wanted one
thing
from me. No one else I’ve been with has ever wanted something so
pure, so simple from me.”

“I did?” I asked him.

“Yes. You did.”

I honestly didn’t recall. “What was it?”

“My love.” He kissed my lips. “Just my love.”

“Your
—
” I didn’t get a chance to finish. His mouth had covered mine while he flipped me onto my back. He was rubbing the spot
between my legs again, and his teeth were biting my nipples. I sank deeper into the mattress.

The only sound I could produce was a moan.

HART AND I
developed a routine. On my days off, I got everything
done that I needed to before he got home from work, so we could spend every minute together until he had to leave the next morning.
When I
came home from my night shifts, we ate breakfast together, and sometimes lunch if I woke up in time. The hours I worked weren’t ideal, but we
weren’t after something perfect. Perfection didn’t suit me, and he
never tried to push me in that direction.