Hardcore: Complete Series Box Set (Hardcore #1-3)

by Staci Hart

  I could tell Jill, but that wasn’t really an option.

  I could bullshit Jade and hope to Christ she let it go.

  I could tell Van the truth. But then he’d know. I wasn’t ready for him to judge me. I never expected to care whether he did or not.

  But I did.

  The warmth of his hand around mine was comforting, the size of it wrapped around my own like he wanted to protect it. Protect me. Was that what I wanted? I wondered if I could find a way to let go and let him him in, and I realized with a shock that it would be a relief. It was a burden I didn’t know I’d been carrying.

  If he learned the truth about me, that I was a thief, a liar, that I had plans to steal from him … how could he ever forgive that? Why would he want me? Something told me he wouldn’t be forgiving. His life was as black and white as the photographs he took. The shades of gray were just noise. He had hard lines of expectations on the world, even though he was pliant on his expectations of me. But that was because he didn’t know me. If he did, he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me.

  And so I decided that I would give us both the night. One night to be together, unbound by my baggage and past. Just a night to be. Because I wouldn’t lie to him, and I wouldn’t steal from him. I had to tell him the truth or disappear. There was no answer, and there wouldn’t be until I faced Jade. Nothing could be decided until I’d dealt with her.

  I looked over at him, his face illuminated by the city. He glanced down and turned to me, gripping me tight. The wind spun around us, lifting my hair as he leaned down and kissed me, his body as solid as the buildings that reached up into the night, and I held on to him like I’d fall if he let go.

  WE WERE WIPED WHEN we trotted to the roof access door of The Kyle Building. He punched in a code at the door and pulled it open for me, laying a hand in the small of my back as I passed. I hopped on the rail and slid down to the landing, and we laughed with our arms out as we descended each flight until we reached his floor.

  I twisted my hair up again as we walked the hall and into his apartment, closing the door behind us. Van made his way through the living room, throwing his beanie, reaching back between his shoulder blades to grab a handful of his tank to pull it over his head. I stood there like an idiot, watching the shadows of the muscles on his back expand and contract when he moved. He turned back, reaching back for my hand with a crooked smile.

  “I’m gonna shower, you coming?” He looked at me like he already knew the answer.

  “Whether or not I come sort of depends on you,” I said and I slipped my hand into his.

  Van laughed and started walking. “Then the answer is definitely yes.”

  He kicked off his shoes when we reached his room, and I let go of his hand to pull off my boots. When I unbuttoned my jeans and pushed them down my thighs, Van sucked in a breath from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, smiling.

  “Don’t stop on account of me,” he said with his arms across his chest.

  I bent over farther than I needed to in my pantyless state, then tugged the ends over my heels and turned to face him. I reached across my body and grabbed the hem of my shirt at my hips to yank it over my head, then did the same with my bra, dropping it with the rest of my clothes in a pile on the floor. His eyes wandered up and down my body as I walked to him and slipped my hands around his waist, then to his ass to hook the band of his sweats with my thumbs and push them over the swell and to the floor.

  Then it was my turn to look him over. His body was sculpted, a mass of flesh and muscle, all angles and shadows. Every curve, every line imparted dominance and ability, strength and control. He reached for me, pulled me into him, and I tasted his salty lips. His cock pressed against my stomach, and I tightened my arms to get him closer to me, as close as I could.

  He pulled away and smiled down at me, brushing a stray hair from my face. “Come on,” he said and turned for the shower, and I followed with my eyes on his ass. It was literally perfect, like something you’d see in a magazine or a sculpture in a museum, defying all logic just by its existence.

  I shook my head, rolling my eyes at myself while he turned on the shower.

  The steam began to curl within seconds, and I looked warily at the setup. There were five shower heads in the ceiling, one large one in the center and four more around it, all angled at the drain, and a bench along two of the walls. It was near the size of some apartments I’d been in.

  Van smiled sideways at me. “I know it looks crazy, but just wait.”

  He stepped through the door and into the water, and I froze again, watching him lift his face up to the stream and run his hands through his hair. The water rolled down his body in long streams, and my eyes roamed, drinking him in like they were parched.

  He ran a hand over his face and looked at me, confused for a second before he smiled and raised an eyebrow.

  I laughed awkwardly, realizing I had no idea what I was doing besides ogling him like a side of beef. I stepped in and closed the door.

  “This is the spot, right here.” He pointed under the ceiling head.

  I took his place when he moved for the shampoo, and then I nearly died.

  The shower heads hit me from every direction, beating my sore muscles, rinsing the city’s grime off of my body.

  “Oh my God,” I groaned with my eyes closed.

  “Yeah. That,” Van said with a laugh, and I felt his soapy hands in my hair.

  “Mmm.” I stepped back and pressed into him, his dick slick against the top of my ass as the soap ran between us. I shifted my hips, massaging his length with our bodies, and his hands left my hair for my shoulders, then around to my breasts where he squeezed, teasing my nipples. He lowered his body to cradle his cock between my cheeks, and I shifted my hips, rocking him.

  I turned and ran my hands across his broad chest. “You’re not clean just yet, Van.” I dragged his name out, and he smiled as I reached for a bar of soap, rubbing it between my palms until suds ran down to my elbows.

  He watched as I touched his chest again, his nipples, his abs. His eyes followed my fingers when I traced the ‘v’ of his hips down to his cock, long and thick, and I held him in my palms, wrapped my fingers around him and slipped down to his base, then up to his crown. He guided me back until I was pressed against the wall, his palm next to my head while my fingers ran up and down his length, slow and slick.

  “Cory,” he breathed.

  Heat shot through my body at the sound of my name, and the water rained down on us, washing the soap away as I knelt down, my eyes never leaving his, my hands never letting him go, wanting to touch all of him. I kissed the soft skin low on his stomach, and his cock brushed against my cheek. He let out a soft sound that fell somewhere between a hum and a moan when I trailed my tongue up his length. I took his head into my mouth, flicking my tongue lazily against the tip as my hands found their way to his ass, and when I dropped down onto his cock, he let out a hiss.

  His hand slipped into the hair at the nape of my neck, urging me on, and I pulled back, sucking softly before taking him again, my hands on his ass matching the pull of his own, over and over. He throbbed against my tongue just before pulling out with a pop, about to come, and I raised up just tall enough to press my chest to his hips. I closed him tight inside of my breasts, and he flexed his hips, pumping into me until he came, laying all his weight on his hands pressed against the wall behind me. His eyes closed as the water ran down his face, dripping off his nose and chin as he struggled to breathe.

  I stood and found myself in his arms with my face pressed up against his chest, his heart thundering in my ear. He dipped his head to kiss me, our lips and tongues rolling slow and heavy around each other. He broke away to smile and rub my cheek with his thumb just once before he reached for the bar of soap.

  “Your turn.” He rubbed the soap between his big hands and started with my neck and shoulders, pressing his thumbs into my muscles.

  I sighed and closed my eyes as his hands m
oved across my chest, my breasts, his fingers grazing the tips of my nipples. He trailed fire down to my hips, skimming his knuckles across the lowest part of my stomach as the steaming water ran over us. My breath hitched when he pressed a finger to my clit.

  “Sit down,” he whispered in my ear.

  I sat on the bench with a racing pulse, and he kneeled before me and grabbed my legs, slinging them over his shoulder, pulling my hips so my ass was hanging over the edge. My breaths were shallow as I anticipated him, hooking my ankles behind him, feeling the muscles in his shoulders under the backs of my knees.

  His eyes were between my legs, and he placed two fingers at the base of my pussy to slide them up slow, pressing against me with his fingers in a ‘v.’

  “I’ve wanted to know what you taste like since we met.”

  I licked my lips, catching the bottom one between my teeth while he dipped his head painfully slow, and I sighed when his lips touched my clit. He sucked, and my breath shuddered, my thighs trembling as my heels dug into his back.

  “F-f-fuck…” I whispered and pressed my head against the shower wall, twisting my fingers in his hair.

  He held all of my weight as he traced tiny figure-eights around my clit. I couldn’t breathe, like the air was too thin, my lungs too weak. But when he slipped a finger inside of me, my back snapped into an arch. The rhythm of his tongue matched his finger inside of me, spurring me on until I turned my head, pressing my cheek against the cool tile. A cry ripped out of me, sharp and loud, my body flexing as every thought left me at the command of his touch.

  He kissed and sucked, licking slow while I shuddered on the bench.

  “Van,” I said after a moment, dazed.

  He raised up and leaned over me, threading an arm under my knees and another around my waist. I buried my face in the bend of his neck as he picked me up, not caring about anything outside of that exhausted, satisfied moment. I noticed distantly that he turned off the shower and grabbed a towel, only because his hand left my waist. He carried me into his room and laid me down in bed, dripping wet.

  I tried to sit up. “I’m all wet.”

  “I don’t care,” he answered and unfolded the towel as I made it upright. He dried my hair, my shoulders, my face, then all the way down to my feet, the fluffy towel warm and soft against my pink skin. He pulled down the covers. “Come get in.”

  “God, that’s so much work.”

  Van laughed, and I snapped out of it a little as I crawled into his bed and lay on my side, watching him dry off. My eyes followed his hands as he ran the towel through his hair, leaving it standing up. He ran his fingers through it as he tossed the towel before climbing in to bed with me.

  We faced each other, smelling of soap, still damp.

  I looked into his eyes. “What are we doing, Van? What is this?”

  He moved my wet hair back over my shoulder. “I don’t know. All I know is that I don’t want you to leave.”

  “I don’t want to go,” I said, my throat burning.

  “Then stay.” He stroked my arm.

  “I’ve never … I don’t know, Van. I’ve never done this before.”

  “It doesn’t have to be hard. Have you ever had a relationship that’s just easy? One that doesn’t feel like work, even when it is?”

  I thought of Erin and nodded.

  “It’s like that. I don’t have to try with you. It just happens. I don’t have to think about it. It just is.” He smiled lightly. “We really don’t need any answers right now. Or at least I don’t. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Van pulled me into his chest, and I scooted closer to him. My head fit perfectly under his chin, and with his arms around me I felt safe. I didn’t realize until that moment that I hadn’t felt safe in my whole life. Van was right. It was easy, simple. He genuinely wanted me to be happy, and if I had to guess, I would bet he treated everyone he cared about the same. I didn’t doubt for a single minute that he was loyal and honest. I believed every word that left his lips.

  But I wasn’t honest, and I wasn’t good. What would he do when he found out the truth? Because I couldn’t keep it from him.

  We didn’t speak, he just held me in the dark, his fingers tracing circles and patterns on my arm until he slowed, then stilled, and his chest rose and fell slow and steady with his breath. And as tired as I was, I couldn’t sleep, only stared out the window from the warmth of his arms, looking for answers.

  I STRETCHED IN BED and opened my eyes, looking at the world sideways for a moment, blinking away sleep. It was quiet, that soft serenity that comes only in the early hours of morning, that feeling of promise, of hope. I didn’t know how I was going to solve everything, make everything right, but I’d find a way. Starting with Jade.

  Sleep had brought resolve. As afraid as I was to tell Van the truth about me, I knew it was the only choice. I felt good about the rightness of it, even if it brought destruction. I wanted to believe he would understand. There was a chance he would, and I hung on to that with everything. I could handle Jade. I was strong enough to move past all of this. But everything would change, starting today.

  Van wasn’t in bed, but I smelled bacon and smiled. It was like a dream, like I’d stolen someone else’s life. Like I’d pulled back a curtain and realized that there was a world past the one I knew, if I could only break out of the one I was living.

  I slipped out of bed and walked to the window, looking out over Midtown. The view was brilliant, and I watched the sunrise as it climbed over the horizon like I was seeing it for the first time.

  My jeans and shirt were folded and stacked on the armchair, and I pulled them on in a daze, twisting my hair into a bun as I made my way into the kitchen.

  Van stood at the stove with no shirt on and jersey sleep pants low on his hips. I smiled and took a seat and propped my chin on my hand.

  “Frying bacon with no shirt on? Hardcore.” I said.

  He glanced over his shoulder with a smile. “Skills. I was just about to wake you up. Coffee?”

  “Yes, please. Just sugar.”

  He poured me a cup and passed it across the bar with a sugar bowl and spoon. “What are you up to today?”

  I stiffened in my seat with my eyes on my coffee while I stirred, watching the bubbles spin around like my thoughts. “Not much. I’m off today, not a lot of deliveries on the weekends. You?”

  “Meeting my lawyer for lunch. Every once in a while, I get busted for shooting on private property. Most property owners don’t care, but there’s always that one dick who thinks he runs the world and wants a piece of you.”

  Jade’s face flashed in my mind. I picked up my mug and nodded, taking a sip even though it was still way too hot to drink.

  “Speaking of work, I have a gallery show next week that I desperately need a date for.” He smiled crooked as he plated eggs.

  “Oh?”

  “You in?”

  “I’d love to.” If you don’t hate me by then.

  “Good. I’ll text you details.” It could have almost been a grin, though he was trying to suppress it as he divvied out bacon, eggs, and toast. He sat next to me at the bar and slid a plate in front of me.

  I laughed. “What’s fucked up is that you don’t even have my number.”

  Van leaned over to me, his lips almost on mine. “Let’s rectify that.” He kissed me, sucking gently on my bottom lip before pulling away, picking up my phone as I picked up my fork.

  “Smells so good. Thanks, Van.” I stressed his name, stretching out the syllable.

  He smiled at the sound while he put his number into my phone. “I shouldn’t have told you about saying my name.”

  I smiled back. “Well, I have a confession.” I stuffed a bite of eggs into my mouth.

  “Oh?”

  I nodded and swallowed. “It’s the same for me when you say mine.”

  He smiled, mischievous and curious. “Really?”

  “Really. I think you’re right about it being because of how we
met, the not knowing who you were. It was intense. For the record, I’ve never done anything quite like that, either.”

  “Guess I just caught you on a good day.”

  I laughed. “Or a bad one.”

  “Well, it was a good one for me. Crazy, but good.”

  “Van, I don’t mean—”

  “It’s okay.” He smiled.

  I shook my head with a hint of a smile on my face, surprised at how the potential insult hadn’t fazed him when most people would have been hurt. “I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

  “You either.”

  “Don’t you ever get pissed?”

  Van shrugged. “Yeah, everybody does. Most stuff doesn’t get to me, though. Just the big stuff. Lying, cheating. I just feel like it’s not that hard to be a good person, do the right thing.”

  I nodded down at my eggs, feeling like my chest was going to cave in from the pressure. “Right.”

  “Anyway, most stuff rolls off my back.”

  I watched him for a moment as he sipped his coffee. “You realize that we’re exact opposites?”

  He shrugged and set his mug down, turning to me. “Except we’re not at all. It’s like we’re made from the same metal, we just have different finishes. We shine different.”

  “You’re like a fortune cookie.”

  Van laughed. “I know. I have a couple of binders full of bad poetry from high school, if you ever need a laugh.”

  “Poetry, huh? My high school days were spent freerunning and avoiding school.”

  “And guys?”

  “More girls than guys.”

  He let out a laugh. “Oh, really?” He seemed to be part impressed, part not sure if I was fucking with him.

  I took another bite and nodded. “True story.”

  “Anything serious?”

  I swallowed hard. “Not really.” I watched his face, looking for his reaction, but he just smiled.