Home > Hard Beat (Driven #8)(102)

Hard Beat (Driven #8)(102)
Author: K. Bromberg

“I always will,” she murmurs as I taste salt in our kiss from the tears of happiness that we’re both crying.

And I can’t help it, because this is the second chance I never thought I’d get, so I take the kiss deeper, heart pounding with need, and my body reeling with greed.

There is no finesse, no seduction, just two bodies that know each other from memory finding each other in the early-morning light. I’m hard where she’s soft. Unwavering needs mix with wants I never thought I’d have the chance to fulfill again. Urgency escalates with each touch. Lips to my neck. Hands to her breasts. I push down her pants, she pulls up her shirt, my fingers dip into the heat of her pussy as a feral growl comes from deep in my throat.

She opens for me without any prompting; I slide into her sweet heat without asking, both of us moaning from the intimacy of that first connection. And this right here, not the endgame, not coming with her name on my lips, has to be the sweetest, most incredible feeling in the whole world. Getting the chance I never thought I’d get again to be a part of her in all ways possible.

I pause in my movements, lean up on my elbows, and look down at my dream, my woman, my hope, all mixed into one incredible package, and I smooth the wisps of hair off her face. Our eyes lock, the intensity of our feelings only becoming stronger now. “You came back to me,” I repeat again because I just can’t believe it. “Thank you,” I whisper as a soft smile spreads across her lips while the moment stretches out between us.

And then I begin to move. Slow strokes and soft murmurs, hushed pleas for more, satisfied sighs of disbelief as we are haloed by the sun’s rays as it rises higher in the sky. She comes first, my name on her lips like a feather in the cap of an already perfect moment before I tumble over the edge in what feels like a free fall. And that’s perfectly okay because that means I’ll land back on top of her, and I don’t think there’s anywhere else I ever want to be.

I nuzzle my nose under her neck as we just hold on to each other, still connected, hearts beating as one, and life feels absolutely perfect. Chills chase over my skin as I try to fathom that just last night I wished myself to sleep, wished for this all to be a mistake, and somehow it came true.

Time passes, and as much as I want to stay tangled with her forever, I reposition myself half off her body so that I can prop my head up on my elbow and take her in, shock my mind into believing this tangible truth. She looks the same but different somehow. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I don’t care because that guarded yet liberated smile on her face owns my soul right now.

“I need to explain,” she says.

“I don’t care.” I lean forward and press my lips against hers. “All that matters is that you’re here now.”

“I am, but I need to tell you some things,” she says with traces of caution in her voice.

“Are you going to leave me again?” My chest constricts even asking the question, but I need to ask, need to prepare myself.

“No!” The way the word rushes from her mouth tells me it’s true, and that’s all I need to know. “Not unless you want me to go.”

“Never.” I’ve never felt more resolute about anything in my life.

“You might not think that after I finish explaining things,” she says, and her eyes dart away in an anxious flicker before coming back to mine.

“Never,” I say again. “I’ve already lost you too many times for this lifetime.”

“I’m so sorry for doing this to you, for putting you through this, Tanner. You have to believe me when I say that it wasn’t an easy choice to make, knowing what it would do to you, but it was the only choice.” She reaches out and frames my face with her hands so that she can make sure I don’t look away when she speaks. I just stare and nod, wanting an explanation but not really needing one the longer we sit here. She could tell me that she was an alien with three heads and I wouldn’t care so long as she’s here right now.

“Kids, husband, the white picket fence… I’ve never wanted what I called a real life. Never. After my parents died —” She stops when my eyes flash up from where my fingers trace a line over her abdomen at the mention of one of the many things we talked about. “I broke cover. It just kind of happened that day. It was so easy with you to be myself after pretending for so long that I was someone else. I don’t know… The whole story I told you was true except that my first job after the newspaper was the CIA, not freelance.”

“You’re fascinating,” I murmur, the magnitude of her strength such a turn-on.

“Hardly,” she snorts in a self-deprecating fashion. “You need to know that the time I spent with you, the laughs we shared, opening up and telling you I love you was all me, all real… I never faked how I felt for you, even when we were arguing.”

Her comment draws a chuckle from me, and I just can’t take my eyes or my hands off her because I’m so afraid she will disappear if I do.

“The blast happened. There was chatter of cover being blown and then speculation that the opposition would think that maybe you were in on everything as well. I was out one night, Omid saw me. So stupid on my part really. I was careless, losing my edge. I couldn’t be sure he recognized me, but I’m pretty sure he did. I’d been tracking him for a while, thought he was playing both sides of the fence, and if he was the snitch, that meant that you were in danger too since he may have thought we were a team. It killed me to push you away, but I had to do it to keep you safe. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to say I’m sorry enough for what I put you through.”

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