Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Hattie
“I’m saying I forgive you.” I squeezed his hands in mine. “I’m saying that I understand why you did what you did, even if I think you’re an asshole for doing it and you better never do it again.”
The moment the words left my mouth, something shifted in Weston’s eyes.
The grief and regret that had been etched there since he found me sitting on my Granny’s porch swing completely melted away and were quickly replaced by something raw and hungry that had my breath catching in my throat.
“Hattie,” he said, my name falling from his lips like a prayer.
“Yeah?” I rasped, licking my suddenly dry lips.
Like a summer storm brewing between us, the air crackled and shifted.
Then Weston snapped, moving all at once, closing the distance between us.
“God, I fucking missed you,” he groaned as his good hand came up and cupped the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair as he slammed his mouth to mine.
Thank the Gods above!
He wasn’t being gentle like he was when he kissed me earlier.
Oh no. Not Weston Basham.
He’d reached his tipping point.
Years of longing, heartbreak, misery, and desperate need rolled into this one soul-freeing collision.
“Oh, god,” I moaned.
Weston kissed me deeper, swallowing up the sound as his tongue swept inside my mouth, claiming what was rightfully his.
I was gone. Lost. I surrendered completely.
Having him close to me—feeling his body against mine. All of it consumed me until all there was was him.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
Nodding against his mouth that was devouring mine, I fisted my hands in his shirt, careful of his shoulder even as every instinct screamed at me to pull him closer.
“Jesus Christ,” he groaned against my lips, walking me backward towards my papaw’s old workbench until my back hit the wooden top.
“I’ve missed you so much,” I whispered, running my hands under his tee, feeling the solid muscle of his abs and chest.
His body was like granite. Strong and hard under my touch.
Gone was the gangly boy I knew before I left.
He was now this beautiful badass who looked like he could bench press a Cadillac. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but he was really freakin’ big.
“Can I take this off?” His lips skimmed along the column of my neck as his fingers tugged at the ties of my halter top.
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure about this, baby?” he asked, kissing back up my neck until his forehead rested against mine. “Because once I have you again, I’m never letting you go.”
The promise in his voice made my heart soar. “Don’t make promises unless you’re going to keep them,” I breathed. “Because I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”
I would give up everything for him.
He must have seen the conviction in my eyes because in his next breath, he pulled at the tie behind my neck and the white bandana top fell away.
His eyes went dark as they raked over my bare skin.
“Fuck me,” he growled. “These tits.” He cupped my breasts together. “I’ve dreamt about these fuckin’ tits every night since you left.”
“More,” I begged, arching into his touch as a moan escaped my lips.
Everything about being with him again felt right—the way his calloused hands knew exactly how to touch me, the way my body responded to him like no time had passed at all.
Eyes hooded, he released my breasts and slid his hands down to my bottom and grabbed with his powerful hands, hefting me up onto the workbench and positioning himself between my thighs with a grunt.
“Yes,” I moaned, letting my head fall back on my shoulders.
I wanted him so bad I felt like I was going to explode.
The leather pants that had seemed like such a good idea earlier were now torture, creating a barrier between us that I desperately wanted gone.
“These need to come off,” I panted, fumbling with the button.
He chuckled, that low rumble that used to drive me crazy. “Patience, baby. I’ve waited a long fuckin’ time for this.”
I groaned. “Please, honey.” I didn’t have any patience left. I needed him like I needed my next breath.
Screw it.
I grabbed the hem of his shirt, and he helped me pull it over his head, careful of his injured shoulder.
The sight of his bare chest, all hard muscle and tattooed skin, made my mouth water. He was so damn handsome and manly, and had this rugged look about him that was so damn hot.
“Your turn,” he smirked, his hands going to the button of my leather pants.
I lifted my hips, helping him work the tight material down my legs.
When the cool night air finally hit my heated skin, I didn’t feel a thing. Not with the way Weston was looking at me.
“Christ, Hattie,” he breathed, sliding his hands up my thighs. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
Before I could answer his mouth was on me again, kissing a trail down my neck to my collarbone.
Every touch sent sparks shooting through my nervous system, and I could feel myself unraveling.
“Weston, please,” I whimpered, my hands fisting in his dark hair.
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his brown eyes burning with desire. “Please what, baby? Tell me what you want.”
“I need you to put your dick inside me,” I gasped as his hands roamed lower.
With a gleam in his eye, he swept everything off the workbench behind me before carefully helping me lie back against the surface.
“What my baby wants, my baby gets,” he growled.
I liked the sound of that.
His hands made quick work of my panties, and then his mouth was everywhere—my neck, my breasts, the sensitive spot just below my ear.
“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured against my skin. “I used to lie awake at night, remembering how you tasted, how you felt wrapped around me.”
His words sent liquid heat pooling between my thighs, and I was practically writhing beneath him.
When his fingers found me, slick and ready, I cried out.
“Shh, baby,” he whispered. “Don’t want to wake up Pete. He’d probably shoot me.”
I bit my lip, trying to stay quiet as he worked me with his fingers.
Then he added his mouth to the mix, and that talented tongue with the steel bar through the middle had me screaming to the heavens.
“I need you inside me,” I panted, tugging at his belt buckle. “Please, Weston. I need to feel you.”
He groaned against my skin. “Fuck, the things you do to me.” He pulled back long enough to shed the rest of his clothes, and then he was settling between my thighs, the heat of him making me crazy with want.
“Are you sure?” he asked one more time, his forehead pressed against mine.
“Yes,” I breathed.
Holding my stare, he slowly pushed inside me, filling me completely, and it was like coming home after years of being lost.
We both froze in the moment, overwhelmed by the sensation of finally being joined together as one again.
“Hattie,” he whispered, my name broken and reverent on his lips.
“I know,” I whispered back, locking my legs around his waist so he couldn’t pull away. “I feel it too.”
Then he started to move, and all coherent thoughts fled my mind.
His hips snapped, faster and harder, taking me higher and higher.
“Yes!” I hissed. God yes. Having him inside me was better than I remembered. Better than any of my dreams.
This was my Weston loving me like I was his whole world.
“I love you,” he groaned, his face buried in my neck. “Never stopped loving you, not for a single goddamn day.”
Tears pricked at my eyes. “I love you too. So much.”
When my orgasm finally crashed over me, it was with his name on my lips and his arms wrapped around me.
He followed seconds later, my name a broken chant as he planted himself deep and stayed there like he never wanted to leave.
We stayed just like that, both of us breathing hard, trying to process what had just happened.
“No more running,” Weston murmured against my hair, his good arm tightening around me. “I meant what I said. I’m not strong enough to let you go again.”
I arched an accusing brow. “Excuse me, sir, but I wouldn’t have run eight years ago if you hadn’t–”
He moved back enough to lift his hand and press it over my mouth. “I know. I fucked up. I won’t ever make that mistake again.”
I grinned wickedly. “I don’t know... We used to have some pretty hot makeup sessions.”
His lips twitched. “How about I keep my fuck ups to a minimum?”
“That sounds like a deal,” I whispered against his heated skin. “Because I don’t think I could survive losing you again.”