by Gina Azzi
After my loss to The Bulldog, admitting defeat and being honest somehow became easier. Maybe because I didn’t feel like I had so much to lose. Maybe because I started recognizing just how important the other aspects of my life are. Whatever the reason, I finally say the words to Harlow that I should have shouted out over a year ago.
She stills beside me, her pace slowing. “How do you feel now?”
I stop again, causing her to halt beside me. When she looks up, I place my hand on her cheek, brushing her hair back from her face. We’re nearly to my truck but this time, I want to see her expression. Read her eyes. She looks so innocent, so damn expectant and hopeful, with moonlight casting her face in the softest glow.
“I feel like I don’t deserve this second chance. But if we do this, tonight, take the next step, I’m not wasting it, Harlow. So this time, you need to be all in because I’m not going anywhere.”
She gasps, her eyes widening. Slowly, a smile spreads across her face. Pure joy rocks through me.
“I’m sure,” she says.
“Me too,” I tell her before I dip my head and kiss her.
Sensual and deliberate, Harlow’s mouth molds to mine. Her beautiful face rests between my palms as I tilt her head and deepen the kiss, spilling my want and need into her mouth like secrets, like all the words I should have said before but didn’t.
She responds immediately, her body arching into mine until her breasts are pressed against my chest and her fingers are twisted in the back of my shirt.
“Take me home, Connor,” she murmurs, breathless.
I rip my mouth away from hers, settle her into the passenger side of my truck, and drive straight home.
The porch light flickers when I pull up in front of my small townhouse. Flipping the ignition, we slide out of the truck.
Harlow trails me through the front door, dropping her purse just inside and kicking off her sandals. “It’s been ages since I’ve been here,” she comments.
I head right for the kitchen. “Too long. Want a drink?” I lean into the fridge and pull out a couple Dr. Peppers. I pop the tab on one and take a long drink. When I turn back toward Harlow, she’s staring at me demurely, biting her lower lip.
Keeping my gaze glued to hers, my mouth dries as she reaches up and undoes the tiny row of buttons down the center of her dress. When the slinky material slides off her shoulders and pools at her feet, she steps out of it and walks past me toward my bedroom, the globes of her ass causing my adrenaline to kick up.
My pulse quickens as my anticipation and desperation for her spike. I follow her, yanking my shirt over my head and discarding it on the floor.
When I enter my room, she’s already in the center of my bed, leaning back on her elbows, a confident expression on her face. But her eyes, bright green now, flare with vulnerability. I know how hard this is for her. I know that right now, she’s proving something to herself that is equally as important as showing me she wants this.
This time, we understand each other’s feelings better. We have a pulse on each other’s mental state. We’re more mature, having grown due to the hurts we both experienced.
“I want you, Harlow. More than this moment, I want you.” I step closer to the bed as she shifts to the edge of the mattress, her fingers finding the waist of my jeans and settling there.
“I want you too,” she whispers, popping the button on my pants. I lose them real fast.
Hovering over her, I guide her down until her back settles on the mattress and I can crawl over her body, shielding it with mine, allowing her heat to meld with the inferno blazing through my limbs.
The moment my mouth claims hers, a homecoming I wasn’t expecting washes over me.
The chemistry between us flares. The understanding between us soothes. The heat between us envelops until we’re lost in our own world.
We fit. Harlow and me.
I kiss her fiercely, my mouth trailing a path down the side of her neck that causes her to shiver in my arms. I spend time kissing the sensitive spot at the base of her throat before she guides my mouth back to hers, her tongue swiping across my bottom lip.
I brush her hair back, my eyes finding hers. Desire heats her gaze as she runs her hand up my length, already hard and craving her touch.
“Please, Connor,” she murmurs, her fingers working a gentle rhythm over my boxer briefs that has me desperate for her touch, skin on skin.
“Tell me what you want, Harlow.” I bite down on her earlobe, my hand gripping her hip.
She trails open-mouthed kisses over my shoulder, up the side of my neck until her breath fans across my jawline. A soft moan fills the air as I lick a path down the column of her neck, pressing kisses and gentle nips into her skin, waiting for her response.
“I want you to make me feel everything at once. Fill me up so I’m not so empty.” She breathes out and I hesitate at her words, coupled with the hurt behind them.
I start to pull away but her legs hook around my back, grinding my dick against her center. I feel her heat even through my boxer briefs and the scrap of lace between her legs and I falter.
“Harlow.” It comes out as growl mixed with a groan.
Her hands run up the length of my back, pulling me into her.
“Please Connor. I need you to see all of me.”
11
Harlow
His eyes bleed into mine, dark and swirling. Reverent and hungry. Under my touch, his shoulder blades bunch, his back muscles rippling. Strong, resilient, and complicated, Connor Scott undoes me with his gaze alone.
The air around us sparks to life, a million feelings I lean into rolling through me like a summer storm.
His hands, rough and callused, caress my skin with a gentleness that causes me to shiver under his touch. His mouth lifts the tiniest bit in the corner at my response and he dips his head again, capturing my lips with his.
I sigh into his mouth, slipping my tongue in between the seam of his lips to dance with his. His grip on me tightens and I moan, letting the sensations he elicits flow through me.
The void that has captured my heart, growing larger in the past two years, begins to crack under Connor’s heady attention.
The hurt from Connor’s first rejection, the ache from Bryce’s betrayal, the sting of my own feelings, flare inside of me. Slowly, Connor’s touch, his care, erases my pain, replacing it with yearnings that I’ve tried to lock away.
I’m so grateful I could cry. Emotion swells in my throat as I lose myself to his kiss. Hot, needy, and desperate, our teeth clash as the kiss grows hungrier. He pulls away awkwardly to remove his boxers and we both laugh. But in the next instant, my laughter dies in my throat. My hands track his back as his slips between my legs and tugs my panties down until he parts my core.
Throwing my neck back, I arch into his touch. He chuckles under his breath, the sound vibrating over my skin.
“Greedy girl,” he whispers.
“More.”
Connor growls, pushing two fingers inside of me, the pad of his thumb finding my clit and pressing until I gasp.
I shift my weight, climbing over him until he flips on his back. His eyes never leave mine as I stare down at him. Positioning myself over him, I slide onto his dick. He inhales sharply, his eyes widening.
His hands settle on my hips. “We’ve got all night, baby.”
“Need you,” I murmur, starting to move up and down.
Connor’s eyes close and I throw my head back, one hand splayed wide in the center of his chest, the other gripping the top of his headboard.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he whispers.
“Me too.” I move faster, needing this moment where Connor’s truth, his desire, his vulnerability fills me up with so many things, I overflow.
I need right now. I need this moment to catch up to the woman I used to be. Before L.A. Before Bryce. Before the last year filled me with doubt and distrust and just existing without living.
I set the pace of our rhythm, the sou
nd of my ass smacking against his upper thighs turning me on until I move faster.
“Fuck, Harlow,” Connor breathes out, his hands gripping my hips savagely as he guides my body until our pace is frantic.
He rolls us again, settling on top of me and plunging deeper inside until I cry out. Our sweetness obliterated, our union turns savage, with each of us working out our hurts and betrayals, showing our vulnerabilities and the scars we keep hidden.
Our panted breathing colors the air as our truths spill out. Raw and honest and so fucking real with everything we couldn’t admit two years ago. Our past hurts explode in between us, forcing us to acknowledge our mistakes, to come to terms with the people we’ve become instead of the people we should be.
“I’m going to come.” My back bows off the mattress as my chest meets the hard wall of Connor’s chest.
“Come for me, baby. Now,” he commands, as I pulse around him.
I cry out, gripping his shoulders as he swears. On my next inhale, Connor lets out a strangled cry as he finishes inside me. Connor drops his forehead to mine, sweat slicking our skin. I feel his mouth smile against my lips as he kisses me sweetly. Then he rolls off me and takes my hand in his.
He squeezes once, air leaving his lungs in a long whoosh. My heart gallops, my thoughts obliterated as I float down from the high of being with Connor.
I turn toward him and he drops my hand. He shifts his weight, his hand sliding up my thigh before resting in the dip of my waist.
“That was amazing. You’re fucking amazing,” he breathes out, his fingertips drawing lazy circles along my hip, up to my ribs, and back again.
“I missed you, Connor. So much more than I knew.”
“Me too. I know I should have asked you this sooner but, are you still on the pill?”
“Yeah.” I snuggle into him. Our breaths mingle as my mind begins to fill with thoughts. Thoughts I know I shouldn’t run with but hell, if it isn’t hard to quiet my mind. “Now what?” I whisper, wrestling with my runaway thoughts as my heart craves his with more intensity than I thought possible. Still wounded, bruised, from Bryce, I never anticipated I could feel so much, so deeply, again for Connor.
But there it is. The truth. The want. The homecoming.
Connor grins, a small laugh erupting in the air as he shakes his head at me. “Now, it’s whatever you want. I’m not going anywhere, Low. But I know you’ve had a rough time lately and I’m not trying to rush you.”
His words, honest, are meant to soothe, but all they do it cause my self-doubt to flare. “So, you don’t want to be together?”
He frowns, his fingers stop their circles as his hand grips my entire hip. “What do you mean?”
I sigh, screwing my eyes shut for a breath. “Is this just because we both need something right now? I mean, did you mean the words you said or were they just—”
He swoops forward, his kiss catching the words I didn’t say. He kisses me fiercely, as if trying to talk some sense into my hard head. When he pulls back, his expression is severe. “I meant every single thing I told you. I’m here. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. But you just got out of a relationship with an asshole. Don’t jump into my bed unless you’re planning to stay a minute. I thought I made myself clear, I’m not letting you go this time. Not without one hell of a damn fight. So this is whatever you want it to be until you can commit. Because when you do, I won’t have the strength to walk away again. This time, you’re the one who has to be sure.”
Anger rolls off his shoulders, crashing into mine. His eyes are so dark I can’t discern his pupils from his irises.
Holy shit.
Relief snakes through my body, filling me with so much hope, I smile.
“What are you smiling about?” he asks, his tone still laced with frustration.
I dip my head forward and press a sweet, chaste kiss against his lips. “I’ve been waiting a long time for you to be that passionate toward me.”
“Jesus,” Connor groans, closing his eyes and pulling me even closer, until his hand is splayed wide in the center of my back. “I know I fucked things up between us, but I never realized how much I hurt you. How much doubt I caused.”
“Bryce didn’t help.”
“Don’t say his name. Not now, not when we’re in bed, together, like this.”
I nod, understanding his irritation immediately. If he so much as muttered the name of a woman he’s been with right now, jealousy and hurt would rip me wide open. “Sorry,” I whisper.
“Don’t be sorry, either. You’re being real with me. Honest. That’s the most important thing. That we’re straight with each other. Before, I messed up by not telling you the truth about how I felt. I thought you were better off without me. I didn’t think I was deserving of a woman like you. Hell, I’ll never be good enough. I’m never going to be the guy who buys you a three-carat ring or takes you on exotic trips, but I swear I’ll always be honest with you.”
My palm finds his cheek and rests there, my eyes boring into his. I can read the truth and sincerity in the blackness of his gaze and I accept it wholeheartedly.
“I don’t need anything but you, Connor. You’re what I’ve always wanted. I’m yours.”
The corner of his mouth tugs upward, some of the hardness leaving his expression. Pulling me closer, he cradles me in his arms. I snuggle deeper, loving the feel of his arms around me. His presence blocks out my doubts while his caress makes me feel whole. Safe. Content. Loved.
We stay coupled together until we drift to sleep, my fingertips pressed against his heart, his breath whispering sweet nothings in my ear.
12
Connor
Zoe waggles her eyebrows at me. “Give me the deets.”
Eli snickers and I groan, turning away from my friends to grab the pitcher of lemon water Zoe set out. I fill a glass and take a long drink.
“What? You’re going to pretend the thing we’ve all been agonizing over for years, isn’t finally happening?” Zoe throws her hands in the air, appearing in my line of sight again as she steps in front of my face.
“Zoe,” I warn.
She grins, her eyes dancing with delight. “It’s about time, Connor. That’s all I’m saying.” She holds up her hands in surrender. “Well, that and Harlow looks exhausted. Nice work.”
Eli guffaws and I flip him off, only encouraging his laughter.
“Is she here?” I ask, ignoring their delight even though it eases some of my concern over this thing Harlow and I just dove into. Talk about a giant leap of faith.
“She is. Just stepped out for a minute. Something about her mom.” Zoe tips her head toward the front door. “But she should be back any second. Here.” She moves around me to grab a dish with pastries and plops it down in front of Eli and me.
“When did you start eating sweets?” I ask, breaking off a piece of chocolate croissant and popping it in my mouth. One of the small perks of no longer being in training. However, it’s not a perk I’ve ever seen Zoe the trainer indulge in.
“Since this guy knocked me up.” She hooks her thumb toward Eli before swiping the rest of my croissant. “I just want carbs and sweets.”
“You’re having a girl,” I declare.
Her and Eli stare at me, dumbfounded.
“What?” I shrug.
“How the hell do you know that?” Eli asks.
“I know a lot of things. What’s going on with Low’s mom?”
Eli sighs, tapping his fingers against the kitchen island. “She’s been blowing up her phone all morning. Probably trying to force her to agree to be some blowhard’s date to the premiere.”
“Yeah, but isn’t she working?”
Eli nods. “She’s working a lot. Even assisting my publicist Helen with some things for the premiere. Plus, managing my whole life.”
“She’s so good at it,” Zoe adds.
I turn this new development over in my mind. If Harlow goes to the premiere with a date, will she be off the clock as soon as
her work commitments are over? Will she return to Chicago straightaway or spend additional time in L.A.? Will she party with her old friends, making headlines on celebrity blogs around the planet? Will she see Bryce? Will she care?
“Hey guys!” Her sunny voice echoes as she enters the kitchen. “Ahh, no more sweet treats.” She throws her head back, walking slowly to the kitchen counter where she grabs a blueberry muffin while staring at the ceiling.
“They’re low fat,” Zoe says.
Harlow glares at her as she bites into the muffin. She bumps her arm against mine and smiles up at me, her mouth full and crumbs sticking to her lips and chin.
I smile back, dusting some of the crumbs off her mouth.
Zoe clasps her hands and bounces on her toes. “Aren’t they the cutest?” she asks Eli.
“Like a puppy meme,” he agrees.
“Oh, shut it,” Harlow laughs at our friends. Rounding the island, she slides onto the barstool next to Eli. “We have some serious things to discuss with you guys.”
“Like what?” Eli lifts an eyebrow, already looking bored.
“Like this amazing idea for a new program Connor is launching at Cyanide.”
This piques both Eli and Zoe’s interest, and they swing their gazes toward me.
“You guys know Moe from Madness?” My hands grasp at each other, a bundle of nerves skating low in my stomach. For some reason, this moment seems important. Of course, I know Eli and Zoe will support me no matter what, but given their own professional success — hotshot Hollywood A-lister and boss trainer killing the YouTube game – their support seems more significant.
“Yeah. He’s awesome,” Zoe says.
