Chapter 143: Chapter 143

“He was on top of you, fucking you, in our bed. You said that you loved him.” He grimaces.

All of this tension and all of Hardin’s strange and awkward behavior since he came to Seattle stemmed from a dream he had about me and Zed? At least this helps explain his middle-of-the-night demand last night that I call Zed and take back the invitation to visit me in Seattle that I agreed to.

As I stare across the room at the green-eyed, grief-stricken man with his face resting on his hands, my earlier paranoia and frustration dissolve like sugar on my tongue.

Chapter ninety-five

HARDIN

When my name escapes her lips, it comes out on a breath, soft, her tongue caressing the word. As if in saying that one word she’s summed up all of her feelings for me, all of the times I’ve touched her, all of the times she’s proved that she loves me—even if part of me still can’t believe it.

Tessa walks closer, and I can see the sympathetic look in her eyes. “Why didn’t you just tell me earlier?” she asks.

I look down and pick at the thick tape wrapped around my hands.

“It was only a dream. You know something like that would never actually happen,” she says.

When I look up at her, the pressure in my eyes, in my chest, is unrelenting. “It’s stuck in my head—I can’t stop it from replaying it. He was fucking taunting me the entire time, smirking as he fucked you.”

Tessa’s small hands quickly move to cover her ears, and she crinkles her nose in displeasure. Then, looking up at me, she drops her arms slowly. “Why do you think you had that dream?”

“I don’t know, probably because you agreed to let him visit you here.”

“I didn’t know what else to say, and we were . . . well, we still are, in that weird place,” she mutters.

“I don’t want him near you. I know it’s fucked up, but I don’t give a shit. Honestly, Zed is the line for me; it will always be that way. No amount of kickboxing will change that. Weird place or not, you are only for me. Not just sexually, but entirely. I can’t stand you being in any sort of emotional relationship with that guy.”

“He hasn’t been near me since he took me to my mother’s house . . . that night,” she reminds me.

But the panic burning inside of me doesn’t budge. I look down, breathe in and out deeply to try to calm myself down a little.

“But”—she takes a step closer, though she remains just out of reach—“if it will make you stop thinking these things, I’ll tell him not to visit.”

My eyes dart to her beautiful face. “You will?” I expected more of a fight from her.

“Yes, I will. I don’t want it weighing on you like this.” With nervous eyes, she looks down at my chest and back up to my face.

“Come here.” I lift one bandaged hand to beckon her.

Because her feet are moving too slowly, I lean up and grab hold of her arm, wrapping my hand around her elbow to bring her to me more quickly.

My breathing has yet to return to normal. I have all this adrenaline rushing through my body. I couldn’t help but beat the shit out of that damn bag, but my hands and feet are aching—I still haven’t released all of my anger. There’s something inside my head, just sitting in the back of my mind, nagging at me, not allowing me to release my grudge against Zed.

That is, until her lips are on mine. She surprises me by pushing her tongue into my mouth and wrapping her small hands into my sweat-soaked hair, tugging hard, pulling the rolled-up T-shirt from around my head and tossing it onto the floor.

“Tessa . . .” I gently push against her chest and remove my mouth from hers. As I sit down on the weight bench, I see her eyes narrow at me.

She doesn’t speak as she moves to stand in front of me. “I won’t put up with you rejecting me because of a dream, Hardin. If you don’t want me, then that’s fine, but this is bullshit,” she says through her teeth.

As twisted as it is, her anger stirs something inside of me, causing my blood to flow straight to my dick. I’ve wanted this woman since the last time I was inside of her, and now here she is, wanting me—and getting frustrated that I’m stopping her from taking what she wants.

Hearing her come over the phone would never be good enough; I need to feel it.

A war is being fought within me. With the wild energy still pumping through my veins like fire, I finally say, “I can’t help it, Tessa, I know it doesn’t make sense—”

“Fuck me, then,” she says, and my mouth falls open. “You should just fuck me until you forget about that dream, because you’re here for one night, and I’ve missed you, but you’re too stuck on imagining me with Zed to even give me the attention that I want.”

“The attention that you want?” I can’t help the harshness of my tone as I hear her ridiculous and untrue words. She has no idea how many times I’ve fucked my own hand, pretending it was her, imagining her voice in my ear telling me how much she needs me, how much she loves me.

“Yes, Hardin. That. I. Want.”

“What is it exactly that you want?” I ask her. Her gaze is hard and slightly unnerving.

“I want you to spend time with me without obsessing over Zed, I want you to touch me and kiss me without pulling away. That, Hardin, is what I want.” She scowls and places her hands on her hips. “I want you to touch me—only you,” she adds, relaxing her stance by a fraction.

Her words, reassuring and flattering, begin to push the paranoid thoughts from my mind, and I begin to to realize just how stupid this whole ordeal we’re going through really is. She’s mine, not his. He’s sitting alone somewhere, and I’m here with her—and she wants me. I can’t keep my eyes off her pouty lips, her angry glare, the soft curve of her tits just under the thin white T-shirt. The T-shirt that should be, but isn’t, one of mine. Which is another result of my stubbornness.