“Next time will be slow, baby, but this time we only have a few minutes left. Okay?” I groan into her ear as she rotates her full hips.
“Mm-hmm . . .” she moans.
I take that as my cue to pick up the pace. My arms wrap around her back and pull her close to me so that our chests are touching, and I lift my hips at the same time she’s rotating hers. The feeling is indescribable; I can barely breathe as we both move faster. We don’t have long and for once I’m desperate to finish quickly.
“Talk to me, Tess,” I beg, knowing she will be shy, but hoping that if I slam into her hard enough, tug at the ends of her hair hard enough, she will gain the courage to speak to me in a way she has before.
“Okay . . .” She pants and I move faster. “Hardin . . .” Her voice is shaky, and she bites her lip to calm herself, turning me on even more. The pressure begins to build in my stomach. “Hardin, you feel so good . . .” She gains confidence, and I curse under my breath. “You are already whining and I haven’t said anything,” she boasts. Her smug tone brings me to the edge and pushes me over.
Her body trembles and stiffens, and I watch her climax. It’s like she’s just as—if not more—captivating each time she comes. This is why I cannot get enough of her and never will.
A knock at the door brings us both back from our postorgasm, almost sedated state, and she jumps off me in an instant. She grabs her shirt off the floor as I remove the spent condom, and pick up my clothes from the floor.
“Give me a minute,” I call out. Tessa lights a candle and begins to rearrange the decorative pillows on our couch. “What is with the candle?” I ask as I dress and make my way toward the front door.
“It smells like sex in here,” she whispers, despite the fact that the maintenance worker can’t hear her.
She frantically runs her fingers through her hair; my only response is a chuckle and a shake of my head just before I pull open the door. The man on the other side of the door is tall, taller than me, and has a full beard. His brown hair touches his shoulders, and he looks to be at least fifty.
“Heat’s out, right?” his raspy voice asks. He has clearly smoked too many cigarettes.
“Yes, why else would it be twenty degrees in this apartment?” I reply and watch as his eyes land on my Tessa.
Of course she would be bending over to retrieve her cellphone charger from the basket under the table. And of course she would be wearing the fucking yoga pants while doing so. And of course this greasy man with a damn beard would be checking out her ass. And of course she would stand back up and be oblivious to the entire exchange.
“Hey, Tess, why don’t you go in the bedroom until it’s fixed,” I say. “It’s warmer in there.”
“No, I’m okay. I’ll stay out here with you.” She shrugs and sits down on the chair.
My patience is wearing thin, and when she lifts her arms behind her head to tie her hair up and she’s practically giving this asshole a show, it takes everything in me not to drag her into the room.
I must be staring angrily at her, because she looks over at me and then says, “Okay . . .”—clearly puzzled. She gathers her schoolbooks in her arms and stalks into the bedroom.
“Fix the fucking heater,” I snap at the old perv. He gets to work silently—and stays quiet—so he must be smarter than I assumed.
After a few minutes, Tessa’s phone vibrates on the end table, and I take it upon myself to answer it when I see that the screen reads Kimberly. “Hello?”
“Hardin?” Kimberly’s voice is so high-pitched, I have no idea how Christian can stand it. It must be her looks that drew him in. Probably in a club when he couldn’t hear her very well.
“Yes. Lemme get Tess . . .”
I open the bedroom door to find Tessa lying across the bed with a pen between her teeth, her feet kicking in the air behind her.
“Kimberly is on the phone,” I explain, tossing the cell on the bed next to her.
She snatches it up and says, “Hey, Kim! Is everything okay?” A few seconds pass before she says, “Oh no! That’s terrible.” I raise my brow at her, but she doesn’t notice.
“Oh . . . okay . . . let me speak to Hardin about it. It’ll only take a second, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” She removes the phone from her ear and covers the bottom with her hand. “Christian caught some sort of stomach flu and Kim needs to take him to the hospital. It’s nothing too serious, but his babysitter isn’t available,” she whispers.
“So?” I shrug.
“They don’t have anyone to watch Smith.”
“Aaaaand you’re telling me this because?”
“She wants to know if we can.” She chews on the inside of her cheek.
There is no way in hell she’s suggesting that she wants to babysit that child. “Can what?”
Tessa sighs. “Babysit, Hardin.”
“Nope. Absolutely not.”
“Why not? He’s a good kid,” she whines.
“No, Tessa, this isn’t a day care. Not happening, tell Kim to buy him some Tylenol and some chicken soup and call it a day.”
“Hardin . . . she’s my friend and he’s my boss—who is sick. I thought you cared for him?” she asks and my stomach turns.
Of course I like him, he was there for me and my mum when my father was fucking up, but that doesn’t mean I want to watch his kid when I already have to go to a hockey game with Landon tomorrow. “I said no,” I say, standing my ground. The last thing I need is some annoying kid with a Kool-Aid mustache messing up my apartment.