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“If you weren’t wearing a shirt, this would feel much better,” Hardin comments.
I laugh for a moment, but I’m silenced by the memory of his teasing me in the kitchen last night. Leaning forward, I reach for the bottom of my loose work shirt and tug it free from my pants. I hear the gasp from Hardin as I pull it, along with the tank top, up and over my head.
“What? It was your idea,” I remind him, leaning back against him. His hands are rougher now, pushing into my skin with purpose, and my head falls back against his chest.
He mumbles something under his breath, and I mentally pat myself on the back for wearing a decent bra. Granted, it’s one of the two decent bras I wear, but no one sees them outside of myself, and Landon, from a few embarrassing laundry mishaps.
“This is new.” Hardin’s finger pushes under the strap on one of my shoulders. He lifts the strap and drops it back down.
I don’t speak. I only scoot back slightly, pressing back against his open legs. He groans, wrapping the span of his hand around the base of my neck, his fingers gently rubbing over the bottom of my jaw and back down to the delicate skin under my ear.
“Feels good?” he asks, knowing the answer.
“Mhmm” is the only coherent sound that I can muster. When he chuckles, I push farther into him, essentially rubbing my body against his crotch, and I bring my hand up to my bra strap and slide it down my shoulder.
His hand tightens on my throat. “No teasing,” he warns, pushing the strap back up with the hand that was working on my shoulders.
“Says the master of the art,” I complain, and push the strap down again. Sitting shirtless in front of him, removing my bra while his hand is still holding me in place, is making me crazy. I’m worked up, and Hardin is only amplifying my hormones by panting and rubbing himself against me.
“No teasing,” I mock his words. I don’t have the chance to get a laugh in at his expense before he puts his hands on my shoulders and turns my head toward him.
“I haven’t been fucked in five months, Theresa. You’re pushing every ounce of my self-control,” he harshly whispers, just above my lips. I make the first move, pressing my mouth to his, and I’m reminded of the first time we kissed, in his dorm room at that damn fraternity house.
“You haven’t?” I gape, thanking my stars that he hasn’t been with anyone during our separation. I feel as if I knew this somehow, I knew that he wouldn’t. Either that, or I forced myself to be convinced that he would never touch another woman.
He’s not the same person he was a year ago. He doesn’t use lust and harsh words to get to people. He doesn’t need a different girl every night, he is stronger now . . . He’s the same Hardin that I love, but he’s much stronger now.
“I hadn’t noticed how gray your eyes are,” he’d said to me. That was all it took. Between the alcohol and his sudden kindness, I couldn’t stop myself from kissing him. His mouth tasted like—what else?—mint, of course, and his lip ring was cool against my mouth. It felt foreign and dangerous, but I loved it.
I climb on Hardin’s lap now, the same way I did so long ago, and his hands grip my waist, pushing me gently to move along his body when he lies down on the bed. “Tess,” he moans, just like in my memory. It fuels me further, pushes me deeper into the overwhelming passion between us. I’m lost there, and I sure as hell don’t want to find my way out.
My thighs straddle his torso, and my hands dig into his hair. I’m needy and frantic and rushed, and all I can think about is the way his fingers are running, so gently, down my spine.
Chapter seventy-one
HARDIN
My entire plan is shot to hell now. There’s no damn way I am going to stop her. I should have known I didn’t have a chance. I love her—I’ve loved her for what feels like my entire life, and I have missed being with her in this way.
I’ve missed the sexy-as-hell noises that fall from those fuckable lips. I’ve missed the way she moves her full hips, sliding them across me, getting me so fucking hard that all I can think of is loving her, showing her how fucking good she makes me feel both emotionally and physically.
“I’ve craved you every second of every fucking day,” I say into her open mouth. Her tongue swipes across mine, and I wrap my lips around it, playfully sucking on her tongue. Tessa’s breath catches. Her hands reach for the bottom of my shirt, and she pushes it up to my arms. I sit up, bringing her half-dressed body with mine, and make it easier for her to lift the shirt off me.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of you, how many times I’ve stroked my cock, remembering the way your hands feel on me, the way your hot mouth felt on me.”
“Oh God.”
Her moan only spurs my words. “You’ve missed this, haven’t you? The way my words make you feel, the way they make you soaking, fucking wet?”
She nods and moans again when my tongue moves down her neck, slowly kissing and sucking at the salty skin. I’ve missed this feeling so much, the way she can completely and entirely take me over, take me under, and pull me back to the surface with her touch.
I wrap my arms around her waist and turn our bodies so I can lay her underneath me. My fingers have her pants unbuttoned, and my hands push them down to her ankles within seconds. Tessa grows impatient and kicks her feet, tossing the pants to the floor.
“Take yours off,” she orders. Her cheeks are flushed; her hands are shaking, resting on the bottom of my back. I love her, I fucking love her and the way she still loves me after all this time.