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I practically pout. “Well, I saw her trying to flirt with you.” I don’t like the way jealousy feels; it is the most obnoxious emotion possible.
“You silly girl.” He takes one more step to bring his body to mine and then leads us into the elevator. Cupping my cheek, he forces me to make eye contact. “How can you not comprehend what you do to me?” he asks, inches away from my mouth.
“I don’t know,” I squeak when his free hand grabs mine and leads it down to his shorts.
“This is what you do.” He shifts his hips so his erection fills my hand.
“Oh.” My head is swimming.
“You’ll be saying much more than ‘oh’—” he begins, but is interrupted when the elevator stops at the next floor. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he groans when a woman and her three children step into the elevator.
I try to step away from him, but he wraps his arm around my waist, refusing to let me move. One of the children begins to cry, which makes Hardin huff in annoyance. I begin to imagine how humorous it would be if the elevator stalled and we were trapped inside with the crying child. Fortunately for Hardin, the doors open moments later and we step out into the hall.
“I literally despise children,” he complains as we reach our apartment. When he unlocks the door, cold air flows out from the apartment.
“Did you turn the heat off?” I ask him when we walk inside.
“No, it was on this morning.” Hardin walks over to the thermostat and curses under his breath. “It says it’s eighty degrees in here when it’s clearly not. I’ll call maintenance.”
I nod and grab the blanket from the back of the couch and wrap it around myself before sitting down.
“Yes . . . it isn’t working and it’s cold as fuck in here.” Hardin speaks into the receiver. “Thirty minutes? No, that won’t work . . . I don’t give a shit, I pay a small fortune to live here, and I won’t have my girlfriend freezing to death,” he says, then corrects himself: “I won’t have it freezing in here.”
He glances over at me, and I look away. “Fine. Fifteen minutes. No longer,” he barks into the phone and tosses it against the couch. “They’re sending someone up to fix it,” he tells me.
“Thank you.” I smile at him, and he sits down next to me on the couch.
I open the front of the blanket and reach for him. When he scoots closer, I climb onto his lap and thread my fingers through his hair and tug lightly.
“What are you doing?” His hands rest on my hips.
“You said we have fifteen minutes.” I brush my lips along his jaw and he shivers.
I feel his jaw move into a smile. “Are you coming onto me, Tess?”
“Hardin . . .” I whine to prevent him from teasing me further.
“I’m joking, now take your clothes off,” he demands, but his hands lift the bottom of my shirt, contradicting his own command.
Chapter sixty-nine
HARDIN
Goose bumps rise on her skin as my fingertips slide down her arms. I know she’s cold, but I would like to think they’re partly caused by me. My fingers wrap around her arms more forcefully when she shifts on my lap, pushing her hips down onto me to create the friction that I want and need. I have never wanted someone so much, so often.
Yes, I have fucked plenty of girls, but that was just about the thrill, about the bragging rights—it was never about being closer to them the way it is with Tess. With her, it’s about the sensation, about the way these small bumps raise on her skin from my touch, the way she’ll complain that having goose bumps makes her have to shave more frequently, and I will roll my eyes at her even though I find it humorous, the way she whimpers when I bring her lip between my teeth and it makes that noise when it snaps back, and, most importantly, the way that we’re doing something that only her and I share. No one has or will ever be close to her in this way.
Her small fingers move to unclasp her bra as I suck on the skin just above the cup.
I stop her. “We don’t have long,” I remind her and she pouts, making me want her even more.
“Then hurry and get undressed,” she softly demands. I love the way she’s becoming more and more comfortable with me as the days pass.
“You know I don’t have to be told twice.” I wrap my hands around her hips and lift her off, moving her over on the couch a bit.
I remove my shorts and boxers before gesturing for her to lie down. As I grab a condom from my wallet on the table, she slides her pants off—those damn yoga pants. I have never, in my entire twenty years of life, seen anything so sexy. I don’t have a fucking clue what it is about them, maybe the way they cling to her thighs, showing every heavenly curve, or maybe because they display her ass perfectly—but either way they’re going to have to become what she wears around the house at all times.
“You have really got to get on birth control; I don’t want to use these anymore,” I gripe and she nods, staring at my fingers while they roll the condom on.
I mean it, though: I’m going to remind her every morning.
Tessa surprises me by pulling my arm in an attempt to force me to sit down on the cushion next to her.
“What?” I ask, catching onto what she’s doing, but I want to hear her say it. I love the innocence she possesses, but I know she’s so much dirtier than she allows herself to admit—another trait that only I am aware of.
She glares at me, and time is short, so I decide not to taunt her. Instead, I sit down and immediately pull her onto me, wrapping my fingers in her hair and attaching my lips to hers. I swallow the moans and cries coming from her lips as I lower her onto me. We both sigh and her eyes roll back, nearly making me come on the spot.