by Lia Lee
Sliding his hands down her back and up inside the tank top, his shoulders tautened as she moaned and curled close. The move crushed the hard erection that was throbbing in his trunks. He yanked her closer and pushed her against the pillar with his body, gripping her nape territorially, tilting her head with the force of his hands, his crotch grinding against her navel. She hooked a leg around his waist, and he inhaled the scent of her greedily. When he bit her lip, she whined and dug her fingers into his body.
When he dragged his short fingernails along her scalp and tugged at handfuls of her hair, the lust dribbled out from between her legs. Her nipples burned, standing up hard and stiff. Her breasts tingled and ached, and her navel twisted deep inside with sizzling heat.
She bit his upper lip, dragging at it gently, and her eyes opened briefly. Her heart stopped. His eyes were open, and he was watching her with a fiery gleam in his orbs. They looked different in the dark, the light blue glimmering. The dark didn’t hide the wild high and passion. She let her lips stay stationary and unmoving beneath his, lost in the drugging way he ogled her face while claiming her lips. The muscles in his back tensed when she dragged her hands over it.
Abruptly, he yanked her up higher by clutching her hips in a fierce, almost painful grip. She wound her legs around his waist instinctively, and he crushed her harder against the pillar. His crotch ground against her, and she moaned, breaking the kiss as the sound escaped loud and brazen.
He caught her mouth again, releasing her body, and his lips gentled. He dragged them over the contours of her full ones; he traced the sides of her face and the sides of her neck, and covered her breasts with his large palms, digging his fingers into the ample mounds.
She cried out in his mouth and pushed him away. Her body jerked but he persevered, plunging his tongue into her mouth, unable to swallow his answering groan when her tongue met his halfway. Her hands delved down his spine to his hips, and he clenched his ass as she pushed her fingers down the waistband.
She dug her fingers into his hips, and he swiftly thrust his crotch against her, yanking her leg up sideways. When her head fell back and she arched her back, he clutched her hair and brought his mouth down hard onto hers. The greedy sound of his kiss was music to her ears, and for those few moments, she was transported to another time.
She was the eighteen-year-old Hartford again. And he was her nineteen-year-old boyfriend who’d taken her virginity, and he’d loved her and made her feel precious and wanted every minute. She curled toward him, drugged on the feeling of having him close again, of knowing he was there and that he’d take care of her and that he’d be there.
Her eyes snapped open at the reminder that her fantasy world didn’t exist. Because he hadn’t been there. He’d left. He hadn’t taken care of her; he’d been too busy getting on with his life to worry about his pregnant girlfriend. She didn’t care that he’d tried to get her back. That he’d argued with their mutual friends when they wouldn’t help him get her back. That he’d called her incessantly while he was away.
She broke the kiss and pushed against his shoulders as the pain of his betrayal cleaved her chest.
Gerard instinctively knew this push wasn’t like the earlier ones. He meant to make her stop. Stepping back, he let her land on both feet. Panting, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths, he swallowed as his gaze roved over her.
Hartford gaped at the still-greedy look in his eyes, and she looked down self-consciously. Her top yanked sideways, her hair disheveled, she stung all over from his rough hands. Her lips throbbed, and her insides clenched and relaxed around nothing in anticipation of his manhood.
She glanced at him, blushing at the state of her body and that she’d allowed him to touch her again. His manhood stood up proudly, lifting the swimming trunks at the front. His abs tightened as he breathed. She didn’t understand herself, or her motivation for doing what she’d just done.
This couldn’t happen. This shouldn’t have happened. This, whatever it was she thought she was doing, was going to end up worse than last time’s debacle. Because, back then, she’d cited her naiveté as reason for misjudging Gerard. But now she knew what he was capable of. He was going to leave her raw and incapable of healing the next time he abandoned her.
Jerking sideways, she shook her head and spun around, walking away from him even though it physically hurt.
Gerard gaped down at his hands and then back up at where she’d stood moments ago. He’d come up there to talk. He had no idea how he’d ended up kissing her, stroking her body, crushing her curves.
Whatever it was that existed between them was already over. There was so much resentment in their hearts, and he couldn’t fix it. He couldn’t go back in time and make another decision. And even if he could, he was sure he’d repeat his decision. He couldn’t apologize for chasing his dreams, because she’d been doing the same thing. If only he’d been able to handle the situation better, she wouldn’t have left him.
But he had to face it: they were meant to be wrenched apart.
***
An hour later, Hartford lay in bed. The party was still in full swing. Flashes of bright light filtered through the sides of the curtains to cast patterns on her bedroom wall. The screams and music continued to pound, but she was hardly angry at that anymore.
She was angry at herself, because the kiss that had left her shaking and shivering and her lips bruised had been exactly as good as she remembered it. No wonder she had never enjoyed kissing any of her dates after Gerard. No one kissed like he did. It was as if he wanted to eat her up, right then and there, and if he didn’t, he’d die. His kisses spoke of the promise of his want of driving his body deep inside hers.
Frustrated, she got out of bed and checked on Trent. He was fast asleep. For her, it was going to be a long night. Not only could she not sleep because of the constant noise, but now, the sexual frustration was going to leave her tingling and shivering for hours.
Making her way to the vast bathroom that belonged in a magazine, she splashed cold water on her face and gaped at her reflection. The party was getting louder and wilder as the alcohol in bloodstreams rose. She left the room and held the railing of the balcony that overlooked the back lawns and pool. The slip and slide was swarming with half-naked people. She could spot Gerard in the distance—of course.
His arm was around the waist of the skinny redhead again. Her heart twisting in profound jealousy that made her toes curl, she tried to recall their four-year-long relationship and whether she’d ever felt jealous during that time. She hadn’t. Gerard had been unequivocally hers.
The rotten jealousy was not a pleasant feeling. She didn’t enjoy it. It was vile and poisonous, and she wanted to rip her hair out in frustration. She spotted Gerard walking up to the crowded slip and slide. For a moment, Hartford stopped breathing. Surely, he wasn’t going to have a go at it with his injured knee.
Her breath escaped in a rush when he stepped sideways and walked to the pool instead. The doctor in her concerned with nothing but his recovering knee, she gasped as one of his friends grabbed him, hurling him sideways into the pool. It happened so fast and out of nowhere that Gerard couldn’t prepare himself. His leg twisted, and that was the last thing Hartford saw as Gerard’s body plunged into the naked-body-infested water.
She ran, down the stairs and across the hall, and yanked the sliding doors open to where everyone were hollering.
A group of people had already formed a suffocating circle around a pissed-off Gerard. “Get back!” she cried, and the group dissipated slightly. “What happened?”
“I tripped.” He clutched the side of his thigh and winced.
Her hands stilled on his leg as she froze against the blatant lie. “So, this is something else you learned during the years?”
He was panting, grating his teeth. “Shit, I fucked it up, didn’t I?”
Hartford turned to see the guy standing near Gerard’s head. The same red trunks she distinctively remembered. He was t
he guy who’d pushed Gerard into the pool. “You. Get away from Gerard.”
When the dark-haired, heavily built guy gaped at her as if she was crazy, Hartford lost it. She stood up ominously, feeling Gerard’s eyes on her. She grated her teeth and glanced around. People had stopped dancing, drinking, and swimming.
“Okay, every single one of you, out of this house, right now.” Her fury made her voice vibrate, and it carried loud and clear.
Gerard watched the avenging angel. Dark and incomparable. The taste of her mouth still on his lips.
Silence. The only sound was of some of the girls swimming their way out of the pool.
“Did you not hear me?” she cried, turning around. “This party is over right now. Get out!”
When none of them moved and instead looked toward Gerard for confirmation, she dropped her eyes to his, challenging him to negate her. He didn’t.
Gerard thought she looked gorgeous. She looked wild and ferocious and feline. She looked like the Hartford he remembered. She’d always claimed him. She’d always exploited her rights over him. She’d always let him have a piece of her mind. And goose bumps covered his arms as he acceded that she’d been the only one who had dared.
“You heard what she said. The party’s over.”
Hartford’s heart hammered as almost all of the drunken naked partiers glared at her furiously as if she’d yanked out their kidneys without their consent. Free booze and an amazing mansion to go wild in—she’d snatched it away. She stood there, her arms crossed, until they got on their way. When Gerard attempted to stand up, she slid an arm around his waist. Even though she was concerned about him, she was also livid and her temper was at boiling point. Her hands flexed consciously around his muscled physique, and she remembered the possessive way he’d kissed her barely an hour ago. The side of her breast crushed against his rib cage as she helped him through the door and inside the house.
“Mrs. Berry?” she called. The trusted housekeeper stepped into view, still in her pristine black uniform, looking like she was waiting for a command from her employer. Hartford did a double take, wondering if it was actually two in the morning, or if she was imagining it. “Please ensure every one of those idiots has left the house.”
***
Hartford’s hands were shaking. She yanked open the drawer Gerard had pointed to and stared at the neatly folded pairs of underwear. She pulled out a pair of boxers and shut the drawer, turning back to him. He was sitting in a high-backed chair a few feet from his bed, drenching the upholstery. Alone with him, in his bedroom, with a pair of his undergarments in her hand, she suddenly, belatedly realized how intimate the moment was. It didn’t have to be. If it were anyone but him, she wouldn’t have thought twice about this.
But this particular man had taken her virginity. He’d seen her naked and did things to her no other man ever had, and he’d also kissed her an hour ago like he couldn’t get enough of her.
“Stand up, please.” Her voice was shaking, but she hoped he didn’t hear the blatant shy vibration. She was cowering, her heart telling her to stop, to leave this house for good. She’d already stepped past too many lines that shouldn’t have been crossed.
Gerard’s eyes on her, he stood up and reached for the boxers. “I’ll be fine. I can do this.”
She glanced up at him, annoyance flashing in her eyes. “Yes. I’m sure you’ll do everything in your power to make sure you worsen your injury. I don’t like being a failure, and I would appreciate if you didn’t let that stamp my history with the sports medicine unit back in Maryland.”
Gerard stared up at the ceiling, wincing.
Hartford stole a glance at his face when she pushed her fingers through the waistband of his swimming trunks. He wasn’t looking at her. She drew in a deep breath and focused her eyes on a spot near his thigh, where a small scar was gleaming a deep golden color. Her heart missed a beat when she dragged the trunks off his body, keeping her eyes off his shaft, her heart pounding so loudly that the rushing sound of adrenaline-fueled blood resounded in her ears. She couldn’t avoid it, and when he stepped into the boxers, she let herself look at him guiltily.
The man was even more stunning naked than she remembered. Was it because she’d loved him so dearly once upon a time that she thought she hadn’t seen the equivalent of it? Was it because she’d never truly recovered from his betrayal that she was obsessed with him? He was connected to her for life through her son. But she was in awe of his body. His manhood soft and hanging low over his balls, she quickly yanked her gaze away, and he took over, pulling up the boxers.
Then she summoned her disoriented professionalism and slid an arm around his waist. It was hard beneath her touch, warm, and the familiar scent of him wafted to her nostrils.
Nostalgia gripped her, and by the time she helped him onto the bed, her entire core was screaming to be allowed to touch him a little longer. She bit her lip and refused to look at his face as she tucked him in, in the same way she was used to tucking in Trent.
She could feel his gaze on her face, and she met his eyes briefly. “Did you eat?”
She could tell that the gentle tone of her voice took Gerard by surprise. Lately, she was always furious with him and spoke to him with a bite in her voice. “Not really, but I’ll eat in the morning.”
She sighed, keeping her eyes averted. “You have to take meds for the pain. I’ll get you some food.”
She exited his bedroom and quickly slid sideways, away from the doorway, closing her eyes as she leaned her back against the wall. Her heart threatened to erupt out of her chest. Her head spinning, she tried to stop the rush of arousal and adoration and love for the man. It was returning full force, more powerful than her tattered senses to overcome. Sighing, she forced her legs to move and found Mrs. Berry.
Ten minutes later, Hartford returned with a bowl of reheated grilled chicken and some vegetables, leftover from dinner. Gerard had turned on his side.
“Thanks.” He slid back to sit up, and she handed him the bowl before sitting next to his hip.
He looked taken aback for a moment, but when she pushed the covers off his leg and applied a foul-smelling ointment to his knee, he relaxed. She was silent as he ate, her mind spinning in circles.
“Did you sleep at all?” His voice split the silence.
She shook her head. “No, it was too loud. And I had to keep watch on my patient.”
He sighed, placing the bowl on the bedside table. Her fingers stroked the tendons of his calf gingerly, applying the gentlest of pressures, and then she wrapped a pressure bandage around it.
Every sound—be it the duvet rustling, or him shifting in bed, or her bare feet padding on the carpet—was loud in the utter silence between them. She considered initiating a conversation to alleviate the awkwardness, but she didn’t know where to start. I better not bother. I’ll make a fool of myself.
Hartford handed him the medicine when he finished eating, and even though she tried to avoid it, her fingertips touched his palm briefly. She cursed herself silently when that brief touch sent shockwaves straight to her navel.
She needed to get some sleep. She couldn’t be trusted to do or think anything rational in this state. She didn’t look at him again as she left, in case he was looking at her with the same greedy, lustful stare.
“Good night, Gerard,” she said as she switched off the light and left his bedroom.
***
It was ten a.m. when she finally came down for breakfast. This house and its lunatic inhabitant had completely thrown off her routine. She was sleep deprived and exhausted, and she was missing out on important work.
“What do you want to do today, Trent?” she asked as she helped him with his fork.
“Play football.”
Hartford rolled her tongue in her mouth. “Football? Did you play football with your grandpa?”
“No. But I want to play.”
Hartford nodded. Perfect, just perfect. The football player’s son wants to play footba
ll. Surprise, surprise.
“I can play with him,” Mrs. Berry offered.
Hartford smiled at the godsent woman. “Thanks, Mrs. Berry, but I think I’ll join him today.” She had a bucketload of work from the hospital pending, and she had received two phone calls for updates since this morning. She was desperate to work but also preoccupied by the owner of this house. She’d hoped to find time with her son, and that was clearly not something she would be able to achieve. But she was going to try, at least.
She was helping Trent off the chair when she heard the familiar rowdy voices of the group of buffoons that came to see Gerard and play games all day. One second, she was smiling down at her son lovingly, and the next, her temper exploded. Her head pounding with fury, she stalked toward the side room, a place full of gadgets and games and boy toys, and stopped in the doorway.
“What’s going on?”
Her voice resounded through the room, and all men looked toward her. So did Gerard.
Gerard’s brows furrowed. “We’re just hanging out.”
“No.”
“Excuse me?” Gerard said, his temper flaring. “What do you mean by no?”
“No. You don’t have time for this. And we need to be dealing with your knee so you can go back to the field and I can go back home.” She looked around at the grown men who were somehow always free to land there. “Don’t you all have jobs?”
Gerard pushed his hands through his hair. She was disrespecting him in his own house, but his tongue got twisted and knotted when he tried think of something to say to make her stop.
“Sorry, guys. Don’t want to be rude, but Gerard and I have work to do.”
Even though Gerard looked furious, he also looked amused by her casual tone as she attempted to throw his friends out of his house. She knew he could tell that she was enjoying it.
Once again, like last night when she’d cut the party short, the group of gigantic men looked to Gerard for confirmation. And once again, Gerard shrugged. “You heard what she said. I’ll call you when it’s over with.”
