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Story: After We Fell (After 3)
I press my thighs together to relieve some of the tension his filthy mouth arouses in me. Hardin uses one hand to steady himself against the wall as my mouth brings him closer and closer to his high. I keep my eyes on his, knowing that it drives him absolutely crazy to watch me as I enjoy pleasuring him so much. His free hand moves down from the top of my head to my mouth, and he runs the pad of his thumb across my top lip, moving in and out of my mouth at a quickening pace.
“Fuck, Tess.” His body goes rigid as he tells me how good it feels, how much he loves me, while he climbs closer to release. I take all of him, moaning while he’s filling my mouth—and he groans, emptying himself on my tongue. I keep sucking, milking every drop of his release as he softly rubs my cheek with his thumb.
I lean into his touch, reveling in its tenderness, and he gently helps me to my feet. The moment I’m standing next to him, he’s pulling me into his arms, hugging me in an intimate gesture that almost overwhelms me.
“I’m sorry for dragging all that shit up,” he whispers into my hair.
“Shh,” I whisper back, not wanting to backtrack to the dark conversation we left behind only minutes ago.
“Bend over the bed, baby,” Hardin says, and it takes me a moment to register his words. He doesn’t give me an opportunity to respond before he’s gently pushing his palm against the small of my back, guiding me to the edge of the mattress. His hands grip my thighs, pushing my skirt up my legs until my entire behind is bared to him.
I want him so badly that it physically hurts. An ache that only he can soothe. As I move to step out of my shoes, he presses his palm against my back again.
“No, leave them on,” he growls.
I groan as my panties are pushed to the side and he slides a finger inside of me. He steps closer, his legs nearly touching mine, his cock softly teasing the back of my legs.
“So soft, baby, so warm.” He adds another finger, and I groan, leaning all my weight onto my elbows on the mattress. My back arches when he finds a rhythm, steadily entering me, dragging his long fingers into and out of me.
“Your sounds are so sexy, Tess,” he coos, closing the gap between our bodies so I feel his hard cock pressing against me.
“Please, Hardin.” I groan, needing him now. Within seconds he fills me in the way that only he has and only he ever will. I lust for him, but it’s nothing compared to the overwhelming, all-consuming, judgment-altering love that I have for him, and I know deep down—deep in the depth of me that only he and I can see—that it will always be only him.
LATER, AS WE’RE LYING IN bed, Hardin whines, “I don’t want to go,” and in a very un-Hardin-like gesture, he leans his head down and buries it in my shoulder, wrapping his arms and legs around my body. His thick hair tickles my skin. I try to tame it with my fingers, but there is simply too much of it.
“I need a haircut,” he announces, as if answering my thoughts.
“I like it this way.” I gently tug at the damp strands.
“You wouldn’t tell me if you didn’t,” he says, calling me out. He’s right, but only because I couldn’t imagine a hairstyle on Hardin that wouldn’t flatter him. Still, I do happen to love his hair this length.
“Your phone is ringing again,” I point out, and he lifts his head to shoot me a glare. “Something could be wrong with my father, and I’m trying my best not to freak out, and I really want to trust you, so please just answer it,” I rattle out.
“If it’s something with your father, Landon can handle it, Tessa.”
“Hardin, you know how hard it is for me not—?”
“Tessa,” he says to silence me, but then he climbs off the bed and retrieves the vibrating phone from the desk.
“See, it’s my mum.” He holds the screen up so the word “Trish” is clear from where he stands. I really wish he’d listen to me and change her entry to “Mom” in his phone, but he refuses. Baby steps, I remind myself.
“Answer it! It could be an emergency.” I climb off the bed and try to grab the phone from his quick hands.
“She’s fine. She’s been pestering me all morning.” Hardin childishly holds the phone up over my head.
“About what?” I ask him and watch as he turns the power off on the device.
“Nothing important. You know how annoying she can be.”
“She’s not annoying,” I say in Trish’s defense. She’s very sweet, and I love her sense of humor. Something which her son could use more of.
“You’re just as annoying as she is; I knew you would say that.” He grins. His long fingers reach out to tuck my hair behind my ears.
I give him a fake evil eye. “You’re being awfully charming today. Aside from calling me annoying just now, of course.” I’m not complaining, but given our history, I’m afraid that this behavior will disappear when our blissful weekend has ended.
“Would you prefer me to be an asshole?” He raises a brow.
I smile, enjoying his playful behavior, no matter how briefly it lasts.
Chapter one hundred and six
HARDIN
As if the long-ass drive through the freezing rain wasn’t pleasant enough, when I get back to my apartment, I’m bombarded with a disturbing image of Tessa’s dad sprawled out on my couch, wearing my clothes. My cotton pajama pants and black T-shirt are way too tight on him, and I can literally taste the bagel Tessa fed me this morning rising in the back of my throat, just begging to be regurgitated onto the concrete floor.
“Fuck, Tess.” His body goes rigid as he tells me how good it feels, how much he loves me, while he climbs closer to release. I take all of him, moaning while he’s filling my mouth—and he groans, emptying himself on my tongue. I keep sucking, milking every drop of his release as he softly rubs my cheek with his thumb.
I lean into his touch, reveling in its tenderness, and he gently helps me to my feet. The moment I’m standing next to him, he’s pulling me into his arms, hugging me in an intimate gesture that almost overwhelms me.
“I’m sorry for dragging all that shit up,” he whispers into my hair.
“Shh,” I whisper back, not wanting to backtrack to the dark conversation we left behind only minutes ago.
“Bend over the bed, baby,” Hardin says, and it takes me a moment to register his words. He doesn’t give me an opportunity to respond before he’s gently pushing his palm against the small of my back, guiding me to the edge of the mattress. His hands grip my thighs, pushing my skirt up my legs until my entire behind is bared to him.
I want him so badly that it physically hurts. An ache that only he can soothe. As I move to step out of my shoes, he presses his palm against my back again.
“No, leave them on,” he growls.
I groan as my panties are pushed to the side and he slides a finger inside of me. He steps closer, his legs nearly touching mine, his cock softly teasing the back of my legs.
“So soft, baby, so warm.” He adds another finger, and I groan, leaning all my weight onto my elbows on the mattress. My back arches when he finds a rhythm, steadily entering me, dragging his long fingers into and out of me.
“Your sounds are so sexy, Tess,” he coos, closing the gap between our bodies so I feel his hard cock pressing against me.
“Please, Hardin.” I groan, needing him now. Within seconds he fills me in the way that only he has and only he ever will. I lust for him, but it’s nothing compared to the overwhelming, all-consuming, judgment-altering love that I have for him, and I know deep down—deep in the depth of me that only he and I can see—that it will always be only him.
LATER, AS WE’RE LYING IN bed, Hardin whines, “I don’t want to go,” and in a very un-Hardin-like gesture, he leans his head down and buries it in my shoulder, wrapping his arms and legs around my body. His thick hair tickles my skin. I try to tame it with my fingers, but there is simply too much of it.
“I need a haircut,” he announces, as if answering my thoughts.
“I like it this way.” I gently tug at the damp strands.
“You wouldn’t tell me if you didn’t,” he says, calling me out. He’s right, but only because I couldn’t imagine a hairstyle on Hardin that wouldn’t flatter him. Still, I do happen to love his hair this length.
“Your phone is ringing again,” I point out, and he lifts his head to shoot me a glare. “Something could be wrong with my father, and I’m trying my best not to freak out, and I really want to trust you, so please just answer it,” I rattle out.
“If it’s something with your father, Landon can handle it, Tessa.”
“Hardin, you know how hard it is for me not—?”
“Tessa,” he says to silence me, but then he climbs off the bed and retrieves the vibrating phone from the desk.
“See, it’s my mum.” He holds the screen up so the word “Trish” is clear from where he stands. I really wish he’d listen to me and change her entry to “Mom” in his phone, but he refuses. Baby steps, I remind myself.
“Answer it! It could be an emergency.” I climb off the bed and try to grab the phone from his quick hands.
“She’s fine. She’s been pestering me all morning.” Hardin childishly holds the phone up over my head.
“About what?” I ask him and watch as he turns the power off on the device.
“Nothing important. You know how annoying she can be.”
“She’s not annoying,” I say in Trish’s defense. She’s very sweet, and I love her sense of humor. Something which her son could use more of.
“You’re just as annoying as she is; I knew you would say that.” He grins. His long fingers reach out to tuck my hair behind my ears.
I give him a fake evil eye. “You’re being awfully charming today. Aside from calling me annoying just now, of course.” I’m not complaining, but given our history, I’m afraid that this behavior will disappear when our blissful weekend has ended.
“Would you prefer me to be an asshole?” He raises a brow.
I smile, enjoying his playful behavior, no matter how briefly it lasts.
Chapter one hundred and six
HARDIN
As if the long-ass drive through the freezing rain wasn’t pleasant enough, when I get back to my apartment, I’m bombarded with a disturbing image of Tessa’s dad sprawled out on my couch, wearing my clothes. My cotton pajama pants and black T-shirt are way too tight on him, and I can literally taste the bagel Tessa fed me this morning rising in the back of my throat, just begging to be regurgitated onto the concrete floor.
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