After We Collided (The After Series) (10 page)

Hardin turns to me as Trevor leaves the room. “ ‘Crazy-ass behavior’?”

“Yes, crazy! You can’t just show up here and barge into my room trying to beat my friend up.”

“He shouldn’t have been in here. Why was he in here? Why are you still dressed? And fuck, where did that dress come from?” he says, eyeing my body.

I ignore the heat stirring in my belly and focus on my indignation.

“He came to get his phone because I took it by accident. And . . . I can’t remember any of the other questions you just asked,” I admit.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have drunk so much.”

“I’ll drink what and why and how and when I want. Thank you.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re annoying when you’re drunk.” He flops down on the wingback chair.

“You’re annoying when you’re . . .
everything
. And who said you could sit down?” I huff, crossing my arms.

Hardin looks up at me with those brilliant green eyes. God, he looks so hot right now. “I can’t believe he was in your room.”

“I can’t believe
you’re
in my room,” I counter.

“Did you fuck him?”

“
What?
How
dare
you even ask me that!” I shout.

“Answer the question.”

“No, you asshole. Of course I didn’t.”

“Were you going to—do you want to?”

“Oh my God, Hardin! You’re insane!” I shake my head and pace between the window and bed.

“Well then, why are you still dressed?”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” I roll my eyes. “Besides, it’s none of your business who I have sex with. Maybe I did have sex with him—maybe I had sex with someone else?” The corners of my mouth threaten a smile, but I force a straight expression as I say slowly, “You will never know.”

My words have the intended effect, and Hardin’s face turns dark, animalistic. “What did you just say?” he barks.

Oh, this is much more fun than I thought it would be. I like being drunk around Hardin because I say things without thinking—things that I
mean
—and everything seems funny.

“You heard me . . .” I say, and move to stand over Hardin. “Maybe I let the guy at the club take me into the bathroom.

“Maybe Trevor took me on this bed,” I say and casually look back at the bed over my shoulder.

“Shut up. Shut up now, Tessa,” Hardin warns me.

But I laugh. I feel empowered, strong—and I feel like ripping Hardin’s shirt off of him. “What’s wrong, Hardin? Don’t like the idea of Trevor’s hands all over my body?” I don’t know if it’s Hardin’s anger, the alcohol, or the fact that I miss him, but without letting myself overthink my actions, I climb onto his lap on
the chair. My knees rest on either side of his thighs. Completely taken aback by my action, if I’m not mistaken, he’s shaking.

“W-what are you . . . what are you doing, Tessa?”

“Tell me, Hardin, do you like the idea of Trev—”

“Stop it. Stop saying that!” he begs and I oblige.

“Oh, lighten up, Hardin, you know I wouldn’t do that.”

I wrap my arms around his neck. The nostalgic feeling that washes over me at being in his arms almost takes my breath away.

“You’re drunk, Tessa,” he says and tries to remove my arms from around him.

“So . . . I want you,” I say, surprising both of us.

I decide to shut my thoughts off, the logical ones, anyway, and grab two fistfuls of his hair. Oh, how I’ve missed the way it feels between my fingers.

“Tessa . . . You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re wasted,” he says.

But there’s no conviction behind his voice.

“Hardin . . . stop overthinking this. Don’t you miss me?” I say against his neck, sucking lightly. My hormones have completely taken over, and I don’t know that I’ve ever wanted him so badly.

“Yesss . . .” he hisses as I suck harder, sure to leave a mark. “I can’t, Tess . . . please.”

But I refuse to stop and instead rock my hips on his lap, making him groan.

“No . . .” he whispers and grips his large hands on my hips, stopping my movements.

I snap and glare at him. “You have two options here: you fuck me or you leave. You decide.”

What the hell did I just say?

“You’ll hate me tomorrow if I do this while you’re in this . . . state,” he says and looks into my eyes.

“I already hate you,” I say, and he flinches from my words. “Sort of,” I add more softly than I mean to.

He loosens his grip on my hips, allowing me to move. “Can we at least talk about this all first?”

“No, stop being such a Debbie Downer.” I groan and rub myself against his leg.

“We can’t do this . . . not like this.”

Since when does he have morals? “I know you want to, Hardin, I can feel how hard you are for me,” I say in his ear.

I can’t believe the dirty words falling from my drunken lips, but Hardin’s mouth is a deep pink, and his eyes are wide, almost black.

“Come on, Hardin, don’t you want to bend me over this desk? Or the bed? The sink? So many possibilities . . .” I whisper up close and gently bite his earlobe.

“Fuck . . . Okay. Fuck it,” he says and wraps his hands in my hair, pulling my mouth to his.

The moment Hardin’s lips touch mine, my body ignites. I moan into his mouth and am rewarded with an equally feverish sound from Hardin. My fingers thread through his hair and tug harder, not able to control myself or my need for him. I know he’s holding back and it’s driving me crazy. My hands move from his hair down to the hem of his black T-shirt, gripping the fabric and pulling it up and over his head. The second the kiss breaks, Hardin leans back slightly.

“Tessa . . .” he pleads.

“Hardin,” I counter and run my fingertips over his ink. I’ve missed the way his hard muscles strain against his skin, the way the intricate black ink swirls and decorates his perfect body.

“I can’t take advantage of you,” he says but then moans as I swipe my tongue over his bottom lip.

I let out a derisive little chuckle. “Just stop talking.”

As my hand reaches down to palm him through his jeans, I know that he can’t resist me, which pleases me more than it should. I never thought I would be in a situation with Hardin where I’d have all the control; it’s amusing, really, the way we’ve switched roles.

He’s so hard and so turned on, I climb off of him and reach for his zipper.

M
y mind’s racing and I know how wrong this is, but I can’t help it. I want her, need her. Long for her. I have to have her—and she gave me an edict to either leave or fuck her, so there is no way I’m leaving her if those are my options. The words that came out of her mouth sounded so unnatural, so strange . . .

But so hot.

Her small hands reach down to unbutton and unzip my jeans. When my belt hits my ankles, I shake my head. I’m not thinking clearly; I’m not thinking rationally. I’m wasted, completely gone for this usually sweet, now wild woman that I love more than I can stand.

“Wait . . .” I say again, not really wanting her to stop, but the good part of me wants to at least put up a little fight to ease the guilt it feels.

“No . . . no waiting. I’ve waited enough.” Her voice is soft and teasing as she pulls my boxers down and grips me in her hand.

“Fuck, Tessa . . .”

“That’s the idea. Fuck. Tessa.”

I can’t stop her. Not even if I wanted to. She needs this, needs me. And drunk or not, I am selfish enough to take it if this is the only way I can have her wanting me.

She drops to her knees in front of me and takes me into her mouth. When I look down at her, she looks up at me, batting her lashes. Fuck, she looks like an angel and the devil at once, so
sweet and so goddamn dirty as she works her tongue around me, swirling and flicking.

She pauses with my cock next to her face and asks with a smirk, “You like me like that?”

I almost come from her words. I nod, unable to speak, as she swallows me again, hollows her cheeks, and sucks harder, taking more of me into her sweet mouth. I don’t want her to stop, but I need to touch her. To feel her. “Stop,” I beg and gently push her back by her shoulder. She shakes her head and tortures me by moving her head up and down at a dangerous speed. “Tessa . . . please,” I moan, but I feel her laugh, a deep vibration that rumbles through me until, luckily, she stops just before I’m about to come down her throat.

She smiles and wipes her now swollen lips with the back of her hand. “You just taste so good.”

“Fuck, where did this dirty mouth of yours come from?” I ask her as she gets up off of her knees.

“I don’t know . . . I always think these things. I just never have the balls to say them,” she says and moves toward the bed.

I almost laugh from her saying “balls.” It’s so unlike her, but tonight she’s in charge and she knows it. I can tell she’s enjoying this, having me at her complete and utter mercy.

This dress she has on is enough to break any man. The way the fabric clings to her every curve, every dip in her flawless skin, is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. That is, until she pulls it over her head, tossing it at me playfully. I can literally feel my eyes straining to pop out of my head when I take her body in. The white lace of her bra is barely holding her full breasts inside, and her matching panties are bunched up on one side, revealing the soft skin between her hip and pubic bones. She loves to be kissed there, even though I know she’s embarrassed by the thin, almost transparent white lines on her skin. I have no idea why; she is flawless to me, marks and all.

“Your turn.” She smiles and lets her heels hit the bed before she falls backward onto the mattress.

I’ve been dreaming of this since the day she left me. I didn’t think it would ever come, and now that it’s happening, I know that I need to pay attention to every detail because it probably won’t happen again.

I must pause a little bit too long because she cocks her head up and looks at me with a raised brow. “Do I need to start myself?” she teases.

Christ, she’s insatiable right now.

Instead of answering, I join her on the bed. I sit next to her legs and she impatiently tugs at her panties. I move her hands away and pull them down for her.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I say, but she just grabs my hair and pushes my face down where she wants it. I shake my head but give in, pressing my lips against her. She whines and squirms under my tongue as I pay extra attention to her most sensitive bud. I know how much she loves this. I remember the first time I touched her, she had asked, “What is that?”

Her innocence was and still is such a turn-on for me.

“Oh my God, Hardin,” she moans.

I’ve missed that sound. Normally I would say something about how wet she is, how ready, but I can’t find any words. I’m too consumed by her noises and her hands gripping the sheets from the pleasure I’m giving her. I slip one finger inside of her, sliding in and out, and she whimpers.

“More, Hardin, please, more,” she begs, and I give her what she wants. I circle and curl both fingers inside of her before pulling them out and giving her my tongue. I notice her legs stiffening, the way they always do when she’s close. I pull back to watch my fingers rub over her, quickly from side to side, and she screams—literally screams my name—as she comes all over my fingers. I stare at her, taking in every detail, the way her eyes
screw shut, the way her mouth forms an almost perfect O, the way her chest and cheeks flush a light pink as she goes through her orgasm. I love her; fuck, do I love her. I can’t help but slide my fingers into my mouth after she finishes. She tastes so good, and it’s something I hope I can remember when she leaves me again.

The rapid rising and falling of her chest distracts me and her eyes fly open. Her beautiful face holds a huge grin, and I can’t help but smile as she hooks her finger to tell me to come closer.

“Do you have a condom?” she asks wickedly as I lean over her.

“Yeah . . .” I answer. A frown takes over the smile, and I hope she doesn’t think too much into this. “It’s just a habit,” I admit truthfully.

“Don’t care,” she mumbles and looks over at my jeans on the floor. She sits up and grabs them, digging in the pockets until she finds what she’s looking for.

I reluctantly grab the foil packet and hold her gaze. “You’re sure?” I ask for the twentieth time.

“Yes. And if you ask again, I will go down to
Trevor’s
room with
your
condom,” she barks.

I lower my eyes at her. She’s ruthless tonight, but I can’t imagine her with anyone but me. Maybe because it would kill me. My heart begins to race as I picture her with that faux-Noah, my blood heating and my temper rising.

“Have it your way, then, he’ll be—” she starts to say, but I cut her off by placing my hand over her mouth.

“Don’t you dare finish that,” I growl at her and feel her lips pull into a smile beneath my hand. I know this isn’t healthy, her antagonizing me this way and me fucking her while she’s drunk, but it seems neither of us can help it. I can’t deny her when I know she wants me, and there’s the chance . . . the small chance that if she’s reminded of what we have together she’ll give me another shot. I remove my hand from her mouth and tear open the condom. As soon as I roll it on, she climbs onto my lap.

“I want to do it this way first,” she insists, gripping my length before she lowers herself onto me. I let out a sigh full of defeat and pleasure as she rolls her hips against mine. She moves herself slowly in circles, creating the sweetest rhythm. The shape of her body, the perfect fullness of her curvy hips, is mesmerizing and so fucking sexy as she rides me. I know I won’t last long; I have been deprived for too long. The only relief I’ve gotten lately is from myself while imagining it was her.

“Talk to me, Hardin, talk to me like you used to,” she whimpers and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer to her. I hate the way she says “used to” like it was really so long ago.

I lift off the bed slightly to meet her movements and bring my mouth to her ear. “You like when I say filthy things to you, don’t you?” I breathe and she moans. “Answer me,” I say, and she nods her head yes. “I knew you did—you try to act all innocent, but I know better.” I nip at her neck. My self-control has diminished and I suck her skin harshly, making sure to leave a mark. For fucking Trevor to see. For everyone to see.