Page 124
Story: After We Fell (After 3)
“What? Oh, my hair was caught in my shirt buttons. Sorry, I was listening, I promise.”
“Why were you grilling your boss about me, anyway?”
“He brought you up. You know, since he offered you a job a couple of times and you refused, you were a topic,” she says with emphasis.
“Old news.” I don’t exactly remember mentioning the offer, but I wasn’t purposely keeping it from her. “My intentions concerning Seattle have always been clear.”
“You can say that again,” she says, and I can practically see her rolling her eyes . . . again.
I change the subject. “You didn’t answer when I called you. I called so many times.”
“I know, I left my phone in the car at Trevor’s . . .” She stops midsentence.
I stand from the bed and pace across the room. I fucking knew it.
“He was only showing me around as friends, that’s it.” She’s quick to defend herself.
“You didn’t answer my calls because you were with fucking Trevor?” I growl, my pulse quickening with each beat of the silence that meets my question.
Then she snaps: “Don’t you fight with me over Trevor, he’s only a friend, and you’re the one who isn’t here. You don’t choose my friends, do you understand?”
“Tessa . . .” I warn.
“Hardin Allen Scott!” she exclaims, and bursts into laughter.
“Why are you laughing?” I ask, but I can’t help the smile that takes over my face. Fuck, I’m pathetic.
“I . . . don’t know!”
The sound of her laughter resonates through my ears and travels straight down to my heart, warming my chest.
“You should put the wine down,” I tease, wishing I could see her roll her eyes in response to my scolding her.
“Make me,” she challenges, her voice thick and playful.
“If I was there, I would—you can be damned sure of that.”
“What else would you do if you were here?” she asks me.
I drop back onto my bed. Is she taking this where I think she is? I never know with her, especially when she’s been drinking.
“Theresa Lynn Young—are you trying to have phone sex with me?” I taunt her.
Immediately she coughs violently—choking on a gulp of wine, I assume. “What! No! I . . . I was just asking!” she squeals.
“Sure, you can deny it now,” I joke, laughing at her horrified tone.
“Unless . . . is that something you want to do?” she whispers.
“You’re serious?” The thought alone makes my cock twitch.
“Maybe . . . I don’t know. Are you mad about Trevor?” The tone of her voice is much more intoxicating to me than any amount of wine I could consume.
Hell yes I’m irritated that she was with him, but that’s not what I want to discuss right now. I hear her gulp loudly, followed by the soft clink of a glass. “I don’t give a shit about fucking Trevor right now,” I lie. Then I command, “Don’t chug the wine.” I know her too well. “You’ll get sick.”
I hear a couple of loud gulps come through the phone. “You can’t boss me around long distance.” She’s chugging the wine again, to build up her nerve, I’m sure.
“I can boss you around from any distance, baby.” I grin, running my fingers over my lips.
“Can I tell you something?” she asks quietly.
“Please do.”
“I was thinking about you today, and when you came to my office that first time . . .”
“You were thinking about me fucking you when you were with him?” I ask her, praying she says yes.
“At the time, I was waiting for him.”
“Tell me more about it, tell me what you were thinking,” I press.
This is so fucking confusing. Every time I’m talking to her I feel as if we aren’t “taking a break,” that everything is the same as it’s always been. The only difference at the moment is that I can’t physically see her, or touch her. Fuck, I want to touch her, run my tongue across her smooth skin . . .
“I was thinking about how . . .” she starts, but then takes another drink.
“Don’t be embarrassed.” I coax her to continue.
“That I liked it, and it made me want to do it again.”
“With who?” I ask, just to hear her say it.
“You, only you.”
“Good,” I say with a smooth grin. “You’re still mine, even though you’re making me give you space; you’re still only for me—you know that, don’t you?” I ask her in the most gentle way I possibly can.
“I know,” she says. My chest swells, and I welcome the flood of relief that comes along with her words. “Are you mine?” she asks in a voice filled with much more confidence than it had moments ago.
“Yes, always.”
I don’t have a choice. I haven’t since the day I met you, I want to add, but I stay quiet, nervously awaiting her response.
“Good,” Tessa says with authority. “Now, tell me what you would do if you were here, and don’t leave out any details.”
Chapter seventy-nine
TESSA
My thoughts are slightly hazy, and my head feels full and heavy, but in the best way. I’m grinning from ear to ear, intoxicated from the wine and Hardin’s thick voice. I love this playful side of Hardin, and if he wants to play, I’ll play.
“Oh no,” he says with that cool tone of his. “You tell me what you’d want me to do first.”
“Why were you grilling your boss about me, anyway?”
“He brought you up. You know, since he offered you a job a couple of times and you refused, you were a topic,” she says with emphasis.
“Old news.” I don’t exactly remember mentioning the offer, but I wasn’t purposely keeping it from her. “My intentions concerning Seattle have always been clear.”
“You can say that again,” she says, and I can practically see her rolling her eyes . . . again.
I change the subject. “You didn’t answer when I called you. I called so many times.”
“I know, I left my phone in the car at Trevor’s . . .” She stops midsentence.
I stand from the bed and pace across the room. I fucking knew it.
“He was only showing me around as friends, that’s it.” She’s quick to defend herself.
“You didn’t answer my calls because you were with fucking Trevor?” I growl, my pulse quickening with each beat of the silence that meets my question.
Then she snaps: “Don’t you fight with me over Trevor, he’s only a friend, and you’re the one who isn’t here. You don’t choose my friends, do you understand?”
“Tessa . . .” I warn.
“Hardin Allen Scott!” she exclaims, and bursts into laughter.
“Why are you laughing?” I ask, but I can’t help the smile that takes over my face. Fuck, I’m pathetic.
“I . . . don’t know!”
The sound of her laughter resonates through my ears and travels straight down to my heart, warming my chest.
“You should put the wine down,” I tease, wishing I could see her roll her eyes in response to my scolding her.
“Make me,” she challenges, her voice thick and playful.
“If I was there, I would—you can be damned sure of that.”
“What else would you do if you were here?” she asks me.
I drop back onto my bed. Is she taking this where I think she is? I never know with her, especially when she’s been drinking.
“Theresa Lynn Young—are you trying to have phone sex with me?” I taunt her.
Immediately she coughs violently—choking on a gulp of wine, I assume. “What! No! I . . . I was just asking!” she squeals.
“Sure, you can deny it now,” I joke, laughing at her horrified tone.
“Unless . . . is that something you want to do?” she whispers.
“You’re serious?” The thought alone makes my cock twitch.
“Maybe . . . I don’t know. Are you mad about Trevor?” The tone of her voice is much more intoxicating to me than any amount of wine I could consume.
Hell yes I’m irritated that she was with him, but that’s not what I want to discuss right now. I hear her gulp loudly, followed by the soft clink of a glass. “I don’t give a shit about fucking Trevor right now,” I lie. Then I command, “Don’t chug the wine.” I know her too well. “You’ll get sick.”
I hear a couple of loud gulps come through the phone. “You can’t boss me around long distance.” She’s chugging the wine again, to build up her nerve, I’m sure.
“I can boss you around from any distance, baby.” I grin, running my fingers over my lips.
“Can I tell you something?” she asks quietly.
“Please do.”
“I was thinking about you today, and when you came to my office that first time . . .”
“You were thinking about me fucking you when you were with him?” I ask her, praying she says yes.
“At the time, I was waiting for him.”
“Tell me more about it, tell me what you were thinking,” I press.
This is so fucking confusing. Every time I’m talking to her I feel as if we aren’t “taking a break,” that everything is the same as it’s always been. The only difference at the moment is that I can’t physically see her, or touch her. Fuck, I want to touch her, run my tongue across her smooth skin . . .
“I was thinking about how . . .” she starts, but then takes another drink.
“Don’t be embarrassed.” I coax her to continue.
“That I liked it, and it made me want to do it again.”
“With who?” I ask, just to hear her say it.
“You, only you.”
“Good,” I say with a smooth grin. “You’re still mine, even though you’re making me give you space; you’re still only for me—you know that, don’t you?” I ask her in the most gentle way I possibly can.
“I know,” she says. My chest swells, and I welcome the flood of relief that comes along with her words. “Are you mine?” she asks in a voice filled with much more confidence than it had moments ago.
“Yes, always.”
I don’t have a choice. I haven’t since the day I met you, I want to add, but I stay quiet, nervously awaiting her response.
“Good,” Tessa says with authority. “Now, tell me what you would do if you were here, and don’t leave out any details.”
Chapter seventy-nine
TESSA
My thoughts are slightly hazy, and my head feels full and heavy, but in the best way. I’m grinning from ear to ear, intoxicated from the wine and Hardin’s thick voice. I love this playful side of Hardin, and if he wants to play, I’ll play.
“Oh no,” he says with that cool tone of his. “You tell me what you’d want me to do first.”
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