Chapter 89

“It’s not fair to you,” I gasp when his teeth pull at the skin just under my ear. He releases his grip on my wrists—only long enough to pull my T-shirt over my head and toss it onto the floor.

“This isn’t fair. Your even allowing me to touch you after all I’ve done isn’t fair to you, but I want it. I want you, I always want you, and I know you’re fighting it, but you want me to distract you. Let me.” He pushes his weight onto me, his hips pinning me to the mattress in a dominating and demanding way that has my head swimming faster than last night’s wine.

His knee slides between my thighs, and he opens them. “Don’t think about me. Only think about you and what you want.”

“Okay.” I nod, moaning when his knee rubs between my legs.

“I love you—don’t ever feel bad about letting me show you that.” He speaks such soft words, but his hands are rough as one of them keeps both of my hands pinned to the bed and the other pushes into my panties. “So wet,” he groans, moving his finger up and down the moisture there. I try to hold still as he brings his finger to my mouth, pushing it past my lips. “So sweet, isn’t it?”

He doesn’t allow me to respond before he frees my hands and positions his head between my legs. His tongue swipes across me, and I push my fingers into his hair. With each stroke of his tongue across my clit, I am lost in this place with him. I’m no longer clouded by darkness, I’m no longer pissed off—I’m not focusing on regrets and mistakes.

I’m only focused on my body and his. I’m focused on the way he groans against me when I pull his hair. I’m focused on the way my nails leave angry little lines across his shoulder blades as he pushes two fingers inside me. I can only focus on his touching me, every part of me, inside and out, in a way that no one else ever could.

I focus on the sharp intake of his breath as I beg him to turn around and let me please him while he pleases me, the way he pushes his jeans to the floor and nearly rips his shirt off in his hurry to touch me again. I focus on the way he lifts me on top of him, my face opposite his cock. I focus on the way we’ve never done this before, but I love the way he moans my name when I take him into my mouth. I focus on the way his fingers dig into my hips as he licks me and I suck him. I focus on the way I can feel the pressure building inside me, and I focus on the dirty things he’s saying to bring me over the edge.

I come first, followed by him filling my mouth, and I nearly collapse from the relief that my body feels after my release. I try not to focus on the way I don’t feel guilty for allowing his touch as a distraction from my pain.

“Thank you,” I breathe into his chest when he pulls me to lie across him.

“No, thank you.” He smiles down at me and presses a kiss to my bare shoulder. “Are you going to tell me what’s been bothering you?”

“No.” I trace my fingertip over the black ink of the tree on his chest.

“Fine. Will you marry me?” His body moves with soft laughter underneath me.

“No.” I swat at him, hoping he’s only teasing.

“Fine. Will you move in with me?”

“No.” I move my finger to another group of tattoos, tracing the heart-shaped end of the infinity symbol drawn there.

“I’ll take that as a maybe.” He chuckles, wrapping his arm around my back. “Will you let me take you to dinner tonight?”

“No,” I answer too quickly.

He laughs. “I’ll take that as a yes.” His laughter is cut short when the sound of the front door opening echoes through the house and voices fill the hall.

“Shit,” we both say at the same time.

He looks up at me, puzzled by my language, and I shrug at him before digging through my drawers to get dressed.

Chapter fifty-four

TESSA

The tension in the air is so thick that I swear Kimberly opened the window for that reason alone. Across the living room we exchange sympathetic looks.

“It’s not that hard to answer the phone or at least respond with a text. I drove all the way here, and you just got back to me an hour ago,” Hardin says furiously, scolding Christian.

I sigh, as does Kimberly. I’m sure she’s also wondering just how many times Hardin is going to repeat that “I drove all the way here” sentence.

“I said I was sorry. We were downtown and apparently my phone decided not to have service.” Christian wheels his chair past Hardin. “These things do happen, Hardin. ‘The best-laid plans of mice and men,’ and all that . . .”

Hardin gives Christian one of his patented glares before rounding the island and standing next to me.

“I think he gets it,” I whisper to him.

“Yeah, well, he better.” Hardin continues glowering, earning an annoyed grimace from his biological father.

“You’re in a mood today, considering what we just did,” I tease Hardin, hoping to ease his anger.

He leans into me, hope taking the place of the anger in his eyes. “What time do you want to leave for dinner?”

“Dinner?” Kimberly interrupts.

I turn to her, knowing exactly what she’s thinking. “It’s not like that.”

“Yes, it is,” Hardin says.

Between her nosiness and his smug grin, I want to slap the both of them. Of course I want to go to dinner with Hardin. Since the day I met him, I have wanted to be near him.

But I’m not giving in to Hardin; I’m not throwing myself back into the cycle of our destructive relationship. We need to talk, really talk, about everything that has happened and my plans for the future. The future as in New York in three weeks with Landon.