Hardcore Volume 3 (13 page)

I WOKE THE NEXT morning completely surrounded by him. Our legs were tangled together, his arms around me, my head under his chin. I smiled, not wanting to open my eyes. Not wanting to end the feeling. I barely moved, but he stirred, arms squeezing me tighter.
 

“I’m not dreaming, am I?” His voice was rough from sleep.

“Only if I am too.”

He kissed the top of my head and wrapped his fingers in my hair, and we lay that way for a long while. My hand found his back, swept up, then down as his did the same, innocently at first. His fingers grazed the curve of my waist, mine traced the dip above his ass. Every little move, from the pressure of his cheek against my head to the shift of his thigh as he slipped it between mine, every touch heightened our senses. His cock stirred against my stomach when my fingertips skated across the smooth skin of his ass to his thigh. I flattened my palm and dragged it up. He sucked in a breath as my fingers skimmed his shaft, hands roaming his body just as his did mine.
 

I wanted to touch him everywhere. Every inch of skin, every angle and curve. My fingers closed around his cock as his hand slipped around my ass to touch my pussy, soft and teasing in long strokes. He traced the slit up and down, pausing to circle my clit, and I held him gently, stroking him in the same rhythm, gripping tighter when I reached his base.

I slung a leg over his hip, giving him access that he used to slip his fingers into me. I leaned back so I could see him, looked into his eyes as he touched me, brow creased in the smallest way, just enough to see his heart. I shifted my hips, angling his cock to my pussy as his hand moved to my ass. He flexed his hips as I flexed the leg hooked over his, pulling him into me.

He didn’t move to kiss me as he pulled out and slipped in, hand on my hip, mine on his cheek. My thumb brushed his lips, and he kissed it gently, eyes never leaving mine as our bodies came together.

His eyes widened. “Condom.”

I shook my head and rolled my hips, shifting his cock inside of me. “It’s safe for me.”

He nodded, laid his hand over mine and turned his head to press a kiss into my palm, matching me motion for motion. His hand moved to my hip and gripped it, pulled me to him with more force. Our eyes were locked as he pulled in a breath, let out a moan, filled me to the hilt as he came.
 

His hips slowed as mine picked up, angling my body so that with each motion his shaft dragged across my clit, grinding into him when he filled me, each motion faster until my heart pounded, then stopped for that long moment when my body clenched, squeezed around him once and released, let go with a heavy breath.

I rolled my hips slow and lazy, though I didn’t stop, wanting nothing more than to keep him inside of me for a little longer as my body tightened around him in bursts, even though my orgasm had passed.
 

Van pulled me to him, pressed his lips to mine. He pulled away after a moment and smiled down at me. “Run with me.”

“Anywhere.”

He kissed me again with a smile. “First, food. Real food. Bacon. Pancakes.”

“Yes to all. And coffee.”

“Definitely coffee.”

We rolled out of bed and into the bathroom, pulling on minimal clothes before I followed him into the kitchen for breakfast, laughing and chatting as he cooked and made coffee. We ate stacks of pancakes and bacon like wild animals. And once we’d had our fill, we dressed, me in my now-clean clothes and him in a tank and low-slung jersey pants, hat backwards, smile beaming. He took my hand, and we ran.

And as I followed him through the city, the cage around my heart opened as far as the hinges would allow.
 

THE GALLERY WAS PACKED with people, the steady hum of conversation woven with an undercurrent of downtempo electronic music that played over the speakers. I smiled as I talked to a potential buyer, though I wasn’t really listening. My eyes were on Cory across the room, talking with her friends. She laughed at something Erin was saying, and her face lit up with joy. She pushed her black hair over her shoulder, and my eyes followed the line of her body. The ‘v’ of her neckline was cut to below her breasts, somehow without being revealing, and the fabric in the back was crossed, leaving a wide triangle of exposed skin low on her back. I looked down her legs to her tall, black heels.
 

I smiled, imagining those legs wound around my waist.

She turned to me like she’d heard my thoughts, something that happened often. Her red lips inched into a smile, green eyes sparkling. I couldn’t look away.

“…when that piece in particular is exciting on its own. Would you agree?” The older man said.

I turned my attention back to him and cleared my throat. “Absolutely. Just talk to my agent about whichever pieces you’re interested in, and we’ll set up a meeting.”

“That would be wonderful. We can do lunch next week.” He stuck out his hand, and I shook it. “Thank you, Mr. Collins.”

“Of course. If you’ll excuse me.”

I walked across the room, past the large photos of Cory that hung throughout the space. She stood in front of my favorite piece in the collection. The shadows were deep, her body in high contrast to the sky behind her as she stood on the ledge of Logan Tower, looking out over the city. The angle was such that I caught her hair in the light as it flew behind her, as did the tear streak on her cheek. The hurt, the pain on her face as clear as her resolve. She was a warrior.

Six months had passed since we’d been together, the best six months of my entire life, hands down. No contest. I’d have her forever, if she’d have me. One day, I’d ask her. I’d put a rock the size of Brooklyn on her finger and give her my name. Until then, I was happy to have her in my bed every night, to see her face every morning. To run with her. To love her.

I slipped a hand across the small of her back, circling my thumb against her hot skin as I leaned into her ear.

“My gallery was made for you to be in it, Cory.”

She turned her head to smile up at me with flushed cheeks and took a sip of champagne. I watched her lips as the bubbling gold slipped past them.
 

Erin grinned, her blue eyes bright as she looked around. “This is amazing, Van.”

Jill smiled too. “I just can’t believe Cory agreed to let you do an entire gallery show on her.”

“Me neither,” I said with a laugh.

Cory smiled. “It’s important to you, and they’re beautiful. I’d actually forgotten you’d taken the bulk of the collection until I saw them on your desk that day.”

My heart clenched at the memory. I’d come out of my darkroom to find her letter, her confession sitting on top of photographs of her, scattered all over the surface like an homage. I’d developed the photos to try to work through what happened, thinking I could get her out of my system. But there was no shaking Cory once you had a taste.

Morgan and Chase joined us, holding hands. She pressed her cheek to Cory’s for a kiss. “Sorry we’re late.” She did the same for me, and I kissed hers back. “This is fantastic, you guys. Really, Van. You’ve outdone yourself."

Chase held up a hand, and I clasped it as he pulled me into his chest and we clapped each other on the back. “Hey, man. Congratulations.”

“Thanks for coming.”

“Any sharks buying?”

I laughed. “We’ll see.”

Another buyer approached with pink cheeks and glassy eyes. “Is this Cory?” He glanced at Cory, but asked me, and I stood up a little straighter as I wondered if he was blind or just stupid.

“Yes, this is Cory James.”

He stuck out a hand, and she took it. He gave it a clumsy pump. “Nice to meet you, Cory. Great show, Collins. ‘Hardcore,’ great name for a show about parkour.” A laugh burst out of him. “Oh my God. I get it. ‘Hardcore?’ Cory? Smart, Collins! Funny guy.” He shook his head, and we all shared a look as he congratulated himself. “These photos of you, so great. I especially love those double exposures with the city overlays. Have you ever thought about modeling?”

She shot a sideways look at me and chuckled. “No. Thanks, though. I’m a Van Collins exclusive.”

It was my turn to laugh. Photographing her had become my favorite pastime. I’d captured her in my favorite moments — drinking coffee in the morning in nothing but my sweater. Looking up at me with love in her eyes. Curves swathed in white bedding with early morning light behind her. And running, of course, the center of who she was. The time when she was in her element. Free.

She’d chosen the ones for me to add to the gallery collection. You couldn’t see her face in most of them, but it didn’t matter. She was so present in each one that they had their own gravity. They couldn’t help but make you
feel
, not only what she was feeling in the moment, but what I felt for her, what was in my heart. It was in every shadow, every curve, the visible signature of our love.

She leaned into me, and even that simple movement was enough to turn me on and make my heart explode, all at the same time.
 

The buyer nodded. “Well, if you ever change your mind about modeling, let me know.” He held up his glass. “Great show, Collins. Nice to meet you, Cory.”

“Pleasure,” she answered as he winked and turned to leave.

I looked down at her. “I wanted to show you something, Cory. Excuse us, everybody.”

They all nodded and smiled as I grabbed Cory’s hand and pulled her through the throng of people, to the back of the gallery and into my studio, the din fading behind us as I closed the door.

I flipped on the safelight, and the red lights lit the room.
 

“You had something to show me, Mr. Collins?”

I nodded and stepped closer, taking her champagne and draining it before I set it on the counter. “I did. Something that couldn’t wait.” I dragged a finger down her neckline and hooked it inside, pulling gently until her breast was exposed. I held it in my palm, warm and soft, squeezing gently, thumbing her nipple that peaked under my touch.

“Mmm,” she answered. “I want to see. Show me, Van.”

My cock stirred in my pants at the sound of my name. “Oh, I will.” I cupped her cheek, eyes on her lips, full and red, wishing I could kiss her. But there’d be no way she could go back to the party. I’d have to be discreet. But that didn’t mean I had to be careful. Not with Cory.

I trailed my knuckles up the inside of her thigh, all the way up to her pussy, warm and wet. I ran the pad of my finger up her slit through her g-string, stroking her through the thin fabric, and she sighed, that sweetest sound. My free hand roamed up her thigh, hitched up her dress as she reached for my pants, unzipping them and slipping her hands in just as I grabbed her bare ass. She closed her hand around my cock, hard and straining against the fabric of my underwear, pumping once, twice to the rhythm of my finger on her clit.

I wouldn’t wait any longer for her. Not after watching her in that dress all night.

I hooked my fingers in the strap of her thong and tugged until they hit the ground. She stepped out of them as she dropped my pants, and as soon as I was free, I grabbed her around the waist and picked her up. She wrapped her legs around me, hooked her ankles, wound her arms around my neck as I lifted her up by her waist until my crown rested against her pussy, slick and warm on my skin.

Our eyes met as I dropped her onto my cock.

Her lashes fluttered, lips parted as she sighed again. “Van…” she whispered. My cock throbbed inside of her, and I hummed. I needed to taste her. I found her neck and licked, bared a shoulder and sucked. She held on tight as I shifted to hook my arm under her knee, and she smiled at me while I slipped my arm under the other. My hands rested on her ribs, thumbs shifting against the curve of her breast, and I rocked her, lifting her easily before sliding her back down onto me again. Then again. And again.
 

Her breath was already shallow, fingers in my hair, spurring me on as she panted. She was so hot, so warm around me, and every little sound, every moan sent me closer. Her hips swung around every time I brought her down, her brows tightening, and I knew she was about to come. I lived for that moment every day.
 

I brought her down harder, pacing myself with her to the soft pat of our skin as I thrust my hips, giving myself to her as she took a deep breath and held it, mouth stretched open as she came, gasping once the release washed over her. I followed her, heart pounding, pulling her close to bury my face in her neck.

She was mine. I was hers.

“I love you,” she whispered.

They were the words I’d never tire of hearing. “Forever.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

AS ALWAYS, THE FIRST person to thank is Jeff Brillhart, husband extraordinaire. Thanks for putting up with my inconvenient need to keep myself (and in effect, you) constantly busy. Thank you for being so incredibly supportive, as well as being an incredible badass.

Brooke Cumberland - Thank you, thank you, thank you. You are an amazing, shiny, absolutely lovely woman, and I love you times one million. Your support through my journey into a new genre has meant more to me than I could ever really put into words. I’m grateful for you every day, pookie.