10. Thayer #2
“Sorry, sorry.” His strong arms are wrapped around me. He’s shirtless and sweaty. I’ll never get over him at this rate.
“It’s all good. Can’t complain.” Looking into his green eyes, I let him see all I want to say. Pushing away gradually, I feel the loss that reflects in his eyes. “Thayer.” Smiling, I release his hand and keep walking.
By late afternoon, my crew is cleaning up, and I’m more than ready to go home and soak in a nice hot bath. One left a little early so he could shower and change for his appointment with Lea. He’s crazy about her. I’m excited to get to know her. Too much testosterone around here lately.
Cranking up the music, I pour myself a glass of wine and draw a hot bath with plenty of bubbles.
Sinking in, I close my eyes, thinking of his.
I need to move on; I know I do. I wish it were that easy to just forget.
Forget his mouth on mine. His mouth on me, his hands running over my body, claiming it.
I’ve never been a girly girl; I’m more of a tom-boy.
I don’t cry a lot; I try not to sulk. I pick up and move on.
Although, to say I’ve had a relationship, I haven’t.
Sure, I dated in high school, a few guys in college.
To be honest, I think most were probably afraid of One. The man can be overbearing.
I don’t chase, never had to. I don’t play games either, don’t think I should have to.
So why is Hardy pushing me away? His display with blonde bimbo was a setup to show me who he is, I’m sure.
Maybe no one has ever called him on his shit.
I need to decide what the hell I’m going to do, and I need to do it.
Am I in or out? Mindlessly, I play with my flower necklace.
My phone rings, making me jump as water splashes. I wasn’t expecting a call this late. It’s probably One calling after the meeting with Lea. “Hey, how’d it go?”
“Not good; I don’t have the girl.” The deep vibration coming through the phone doesn’t belong to my brother. A tug in my core sends me spiraling. I wanted to hear from him, but I’m so pissed at his push and pull all the time.
“You could have, but you didn’t want her. What can I do for you, Hardy?” Brass tacks are all I come up with to deal with him. I’m not sure if that’ll work. Stepping out of the bath, I quickly dry and throw on my robe.
“I’m going to tell you this again, Thayer: I want you.” His voice is so low it sounds menacing. Then, there’s a knock at the door.
“Hang on, someone’s at my door.” I’m pissed anyone would just drop by.
“Don’t answer it. It can’t be good this late.” Hardy chuckles as he says it. Is he drunk?
He has me so distracted, I forget to use the peephole, jerking the door open without looking first. Hardy stands there, looking so good I could eat him up. What’s worse, he’s drunk. His eyes are glassy, and he giggles at my surprise. I widen the door for him to walk through as I end the call.
He stumbles through, and I turn in time to catch him. My phone flies through the air, hitting the wall on the other side of the door. It breaks into pieces when it hits the floor. Hardy reaches for it, and we end up on the floor tangled around each other.
The savior becomes the saved when Hardy spins for me to land on top of him. Brushing my hair away from my face, he raises up. I think he’s going to kiss me. His eyes flicker to the silver hanging from my neck to my eyes. Taking it between his fingers, he rubs it like it’s lucky.
“You did find it. I’ve been worried you didn’t. Do you like it, Thayer?” Hardy’s face softens when he captures my gaze again.
“I love it, thank you. You didn’t have to do it.” My words are barely a whisper.
“You love it? Do you love everything, hun?” There he goes with that, hun, shit. Pushing off him, I straddle his lap.
“First, don’t call me hun; it’s ridiculous. Second, you’re not in any position to question me about what I love unless you can handle the answer, big boy.” Bracing my hands to get off him, he wraps his arms around my waist, holding me to him.
“I can handle it, can you? Can you say, no matter what comes with me, you’ll be okay with it?” Conviction laced in his words gives me a little more insight into this crazy, beautiful man.
“I’m stronger than you think. I know all of this is sudden. I should’ve talked to you before we got to the point where we weren’t dressed. I’m sorry. But I’m here, Hardy. We’ll be okay, together.” I stroke his beard that’s grown out this week. “Why haven’t you shaved?”
“No reason to without you. I didn’t want that girl; she was a poor substitute. I want you, Thayer. Please know, I didn’t sleep with her. I can’t.” His hands-on mine again, he brings them to his lips and kisses them.
“Good, cause that would have hurt. Now, let’s go to bed.” Tugging on him as I rise, he comes willingly.
“Okay, but we’re not having sex yet. Understand?” I’m puzzled but go with it anyway.
“Okay. Kick your shoes off; I’ll grab us some water.” Turning to the kitchen, I come up short. Hardy has my hand still. “Can I have my hand?”
He stares at our hands and then responds, “No. Never again, at least not until One kills me.” Dragging him to the kitchen, I hand him the water. Then I stop by the laundry room where I still have One’s clothes from last week. I walk him into my bedroom.
“One’s basketball shorts and t-shirt. You change while I go to the bathroom.” I had forgotten what I was wearing when he got here. I slip off my robe, sliding on some shorts and a tee. Hardy’s lying on the bed when I return. A smile spreads across his face; it’s perfect. I lay beside him.
“Thayer, I’m trying to be the man you deserve, but damn, woman. What the fuck do you have on?” His eyes traveling my body makes me feel so sexy.
“Boy shorts.” His eyes snap back to mine.
“Boy shorts? Hun, no boy could do for those shorts what your ass does for them. Fuck, this is going to be a helluva dating trial.” Hauling me to his side, I tuck in next to his chest. Thankfully, he left the shirt off.
Hardy reaches down, grabs me by the knee, pulling my leg across him. I’m seriously comfortable. I melt into him happily. Just before I feel his thick cock laying against his stomach—fuck, he’s hung—I squeeze my thighs to dissipate the need in my core.
“Hun, you’ve got to calm down. I’m trying to do the right thing here.” Leaning in, he kisses my head.
We fall asleep with him holding me.