Tyler
Okay, I take it back. Screw a medal. I deserved a fucking parade for the restraint I’d shown.
Holding her against my bare chest, breathing in the scent of her hair, and letting her walk away instead of pinning her to the wall and kissing her until she forgot every reason she had to run.
Every cell in my body had begged—no, fucking screamed—for me not to.
Last night had been torture. Watching her fall apart in my arms like that, seeing her break open in ways she’d never let anyone see. Especially me.
If only she realized how hard it was to watch her hurt like that, to not lean in and kiss every tear that stained her cheeks. The strong, magnetic Orla Sheehan I knew, had been reduced to a pile of tears and regret over an idiot who didn’t realize the half of what he’d given up.
And that kiss, fuck. She’d kissed me like she was ready to hand herself over, piece by shaking piece. How I found the sense to stop things before they went further was a miracle I couldn’t explain.
She’d been in my head all day since I left her sleeping peacefully in my bed this morning.
She was ingrained in every serve, every point, every breath.
Looking up at the stands and not seeing her there hurt in a way I wasn’t ready for.
Lately, she was always there, grounding me in ways she didn’t even realize.
But I couldn’t fall apart out there. Not after everything she told me.
Not after the way she cried into my shoulder last night.
I had to win for her. For the version of her that still didn’t believe she was worthy of being wanted.
Because if I’d lost today, if she thought she’d knocked me off course in any way? I think that would have broken her more than anything.
I leaned my back against the door, dropped my head with a dull thud, and exhaled hard letting my eyes close slowly. My chest was tight. My fists still clenched. She’d cracked me wide open, and l didn’t want to close back up; I don’t think I ever could anymore.
Then came the last thing I’d expected. A loud, sharp knock at my door. My eyes shot open, my heart giving a jagged, heavy thud against my ribs.
No. Fucking. Way.
Another knock came, firmer this time, vibrating through the wood and into my palm. I stood frozen for a heartbeat, my mind racing through a dozen different scenarios, before I finally reached out and yanked the door open.
And sure enough, there she was.
Orla.
She was barefoot in the hallway, her chest heaving in shallow, uneven gasps as if the air in the corridor had suddenly turned to lead.
She was still wearing those goddamn sleep shorts and that tight-fitted long-sleeve top—the one that had been haunting me since the moment I saw it.
The thin white cotton was a cruel, beautiful betrayal; it left nothing to the imagination, the unmistakable outline of her hardened nipples pressing against the fabric, her body already surrendering to a want she hadn't yet let herself admit.
Her name burned the back of my throat, but she didn’t give me the chance to say it.
She grabbed me by the back of my neck, dragged me down, and kissed me like her life depended on it. Her lips were as soft and as sweet as I remembered from last night. Her fingers slid into my hair, and I felt them tremble, knowing she’d finally given up every ounce of resolve she had against us.
A guttural sound tore out of my throat as I kicked the door shut, the heavy thud echoing in the small space as I pinned her back against the wood.
I cradled her jaw, my thumbs tracing the delicate, soft hollows beneath her cheekbones while I deepened the kiss, forcing myself to slow down.
I wanted to taste every second of her decision.
Her breath broke against mine, hitching in a way that told me tears were threatening to spill. “Tyler, I don’t deserve the way you’ve been,” she choked out, her voice fractured. “Not after—”
“Shhh,” I growled into her mouth, cutting her off with the sheer heat of my gaze. “You don’t get to say that. You have no idea what I’d do to prove how much you deserve it. Every minute of every fucking day, Orla…”
She whimpered when I devoured her mouth again.
I forced myself to pull back just enough to see her face, my heart hammering a frantic, heavy rhythm against my ribs.
I needed her to see the gravity of what she was doing.
“But I need you to be sure this time, O,” I rasped, my voice thick with a hunger I could no longer disguise.
“Because I’m done holding back. I’m done pretending I don’t want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my whole damn life. ”
Her eyes burned into mine, lit with a fierce, beaming clarity that made my blood hum. There was no hesitation left in her, no flickering doubt. “I’m sure, Tyler,” she whispered, her breath hitching as she reached up to tether herself to me. “I need this. I need you.”
That was the breaking point. The last thread of my restraint snapped, replaced by a surge of adrenaline that made every nerve ending in my body ignite.
There was no doubt this time. She wasn’t running, and she wasn't hiding behind a professional mask. She’d walked across that hallway. She’d chosen me.
“Good.” My voice was wrecked. I let my gaze drag down her body and back up hungrily. “Then no more pretending. But I need to warn you, baby.”
She shuddered when my fingers found her again, tracing the tan skin of her arms, moving over the delicate slope of her shoulders, and sliding down the elegant, tense line of her back. She melted into me then, her resistance dissolving into a soft, broken exhale that was the only sound in the room.
The world outside that door ceased to exist. Everything—the tour, the cameras—replaced by a heavy, suffocating heat that seemed to radiate from the very air between us.
We weren't just crossing a line; we were obliterating it.
“This won’t be gentle. I’m gonna fuck you until you forget every other man who ever touched you.”
Her lips parted with a stunned gasp.
“I mean it,” I murmured, pinning her with my stare. “You sure about this?”
“Yes.” Her voice cracked. “Tyler, please.”
“Oh, baby,” I groaned, dragging her flush against me. “You have no idea what you just signed up for.”
I lifted her, hands under her thighs, her body finally wrapping around me like it belonged there.
My towel slipped, and my cock pressed hard against the soft heat of her stomach, the second she felt me, she arched into the contact.
She let out a soft whimper of pure, unadulterated need that nearly sent me to my knees.
It was the sound of her finally letting go, of the last of her walls crumbling into dust.
Her pulse beat against my lips when I kissed the hollow of her throat. The scent of her skin filled my lungs until I was dizzy.
I carried her to the bed and lay her down like she was something sacred. Her hair spilled across my pillow, lips swollen from kissing me, her chest rising in these shallow little breaths that told me she was holding on by a thread.
I didn’t touch her for a full heartbeat. I just looked at her.
I knelt between her legs, kissing her again as I lifted her shirt over her head, revealing breasts that were way more fucking perfect than the version I’d imagined in my mind. My fingers skimmed down her stomach to the lace edging her panties beneath her shorts.
“I’ve thought about this,” I whispered against her lips. “Dreamt about you in my bed, wet for me.”
Her gasp lit my veins on fire. My fingers traced the lace first, slow enough to feel every tremble. The fabric was soaked, clinging to her.
I teased her shorts and panties down, baring her inch by inch to the cool air. She melted around me instantly.
Her hips jerked involuntarily as I pushed my fingers into her. “Tyler…”
“Oh, baby,” I muttered, curling my fingers just right inside her, I watched the pleasure ripple through her, a visible wave that started in her chest and ended in the tight grip of her thighs. “I’ve been aching to make you come.”
She stilled slightly, cheeks reddened with a sudden, flickering bashfulness. “I—um. I usually don’t.”
I froze, confused at the sudden hesitation. “Don’t what?”
Her voice was small, edged with a trace of old humiliation that made my blood boil on her behalf. “Come. Not…from sex, I mean. Not easily.”
A slow, salacious smile pulled at my mouth. “Oh, honey,” I murmured, curling deeper, savoring the way she writhed. “You have no fucking idea what I’m about to do for you.” I knew right then, I needed to be the one to rewrite every memory she’d been given.
Her eyes widened.
“I want every noise you make tonight,” I told her. “Every shake of your thighs, every whimper, I need to hear every sound you make when you beg me not to stop. Got it?”
She nodded, breath trembling.
“Good girl.”
I slipped my fingers out and reached for my nightstand drawer. “Do you want me to use a condom?” I always did, I wasn’t stupid, but this was her. It felt like asking permission to breathe.
Surprise flickered across her face. “Um…yes. We should.”
“Okay,” I said simply, tearing one open with my teeth. I handed the packet to her. “But you’re putting it on me.”
I pushed back, letting the towel fall completely. Her breath caught audibly.
“Fuck, Tyler,” she whispered, eyes locked on me like she couldn’t look away, evidently taken back by my size.
That smirk I’d been holding back broke free. “Still think I can’t make you come?”
She bit her bottom lip without seeming to realize it as a helpless, needy little sound escaped her. The look in her eyes was pure want, pure surrender. It hit me so hard I almost forgot my own name.
She took the condom with shaking hands and rolled it down me, inch by torturous inch. My head fell back with a ragged groan.
“Jesus. You do that again, I won’t last long enough to make good on all the things I promised.”