Twenty-two
TWENTY-TWO
Reagan
“Is everything okay?”
I asked the question out of an abundance of curiosity and a hint of fear.
There had been a very focused and determined sense about Hart as he carried me into his house and straight to his bedroom. Initially, I loved it for the familiarity. It was like we were right back where we’d been before my whole mess of a situation, and I thought the both of us needed that semblance of normalcy.
But from the moment Hart had entered his bedroom and set me down on my feet beside the bed, he had been hesitating.
I didn’t know if he was having second thoughts or if something else was wrong.
And considering Hart had gone above and beyond to ensure that I was okay, that I was safe after the kidnapping—doing it while risking his life and being stabbed in the process—I thought it was only fair that I be the one to take care of him now.
It didn’t matter how much I loved having him kiss and hold me again. It didn’t matter how badly I wanted things to progress. If Hart had reservations about this, I needed to take steps to understand what was ailing him.
If it hadn’t been for the hesitation I felt in him, I might not have realized anything was wrong. Because his eyes were bright, and he seemed to have a radiant glow about him.
“Everything is fine, Reagan. Better than fine.” There was an edge of relief and happiness in his tone. “It’s just that I didn’t think I’d ever have the privilege of kissing or holding you again. I’m trying to give myself a moment to calm my racing heart.”
How I didn’t melt into a puddle at his admission, I’d never know. It was taking me some time to get used to this vulnerable side of Hart, especially when he’d been so closed off before.
I placed my palms lightly on his chest, feeling his heart beating wildly beneath my fingertips. “I feel as though I should apologize for what I put you through. I’m sorry for so much, Hart. I could be here for hours pointing out each individual error in judgment I had, but mostly, I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you deserved to have ten days ago.”
Hart lifted his hand to the side of my face and brushed his knuckles down my cheek toward my chin. Then his thumb did that thing that always made my knees weak and drifted lightly along my jaw. “I’m not upset about that. I dumped a lot on you that day, and I understand why you needed some time. I’m just glad you’re here now.”
I was, too.
The longer I stood here with him, the more I questioned why it had taken me so long. If there was one thing I could say about my discussion with Mallory, it was that she’d been right about not wasting time.
“There’s so much we need to talk about, so much to say.”
His hand drifted back behind my head and settled at the base of my skull, where he offered a squeeze of reassurance. “Yes, we do. And I hope that we will. But right now, I think there’s only one thing we need to talk about before we do anything else.”
“What’s that?”
Following a brief pause, he said, “Ten days ago, I told you what you meant to me. Today, you gave me the same. But more than a year ago, we both agreed that we were just getting together to fill a void, to satisfy our physical needs. I made it clear I’d never be the man who’d ever be able to give you a future, and you insisted you never wanted that. The problem is that things have changed for me, shortcake. I want to know for sure that they’ve changed for you.”
There was a slightly panicked and pleading edge to his tone, so this time, I didn’t hesitate to tell Hart precisely what he wanted to hear. In fact, I couldn’t wait to do it. “Things have changed for me, too.”
His mouth curved into a slow smile. “I want to be clear about where you stand, Reagan. I want to know if what you’re telling me is that you’re okay with doing this for real. I want to know that you’re as deep in this as I am, because I can’t go back to what we had before. I need more than that, because this isn’t just about sex for me anymore.”
I returned the smile, feeling a flutter in my belly. For a moment, it was almost as though I’d become weightless with the promise of a real relationship staring me down. “I don’t know if I’m going to do this right, Hart. Recent evidence would suggest I might be bad at it. But I can make you the promise now that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to figure this out with you. You’re the only person who’s ever shown me what real love is, and I don’t think that’s something I can walk away from.”
Hart closed his eyes and dropped his head forward as he released a long sigh. His fingers pressed in firmly at the back of my head. “God, I’ve missed you.”
My heart couldn’t handle hearing the mix of anguish and relief in his tone. I slid my palms up his chest and over his shoulders as I pressed my body tight to his. His arms wrapped around me as he buried his face in my neck and inhaled.
“Show me, Hart. Please show me how much you missed me.”
His lips pressed featherlight kisses against my neck, sending chills along my spine. I was very aware of my pounding pulse as Hart’s hands drifted along my body. I ached with a need to feel his fingertips against my bare skin.
As though sensing my desire, Hart curled his fingers around the hem of my shirt and lifted it over my head. After tossing it aside, he brushed his knuckles lightly down my arm, his eyes watching them take their journey. “You’re so beautiful, Reagan.”
I loved the way he said my name, especially when he said it at a moment like this. It only made me yearn to touch him more than I already did. So, I bunched his shirt in my fists and pushed it up his torso. He helped me to lift it over his head before dropping it to the floor.
And that’s when it happened.
I looked down over his naked chest and abdomen, expecting to see what I’d grown accustomed to seeing when that scar jumped out at me, disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans.
The last thing I wanted to do was ruin this moment for him, for us, but I couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped. My eyes darted between his face and the scar, tears welling in my eyes. He’d gotten that scar defending me. “Are you… Does it hurt still?”
Hart’s chin dropped to his chest, and his lips moved in a way that indicated he was trying to contain his emotions. I found it to be a strange response, unless he was truly in some awful pain.
“Maybe we shouldn’t do this yet,” I suggested.
“Why would you say that?”
I pressed my fingers lightly against the skin surrounding the scar. “I’m just worried about hurting you. Do you need more time to heal?”
“I’m fine.”
It took massive effort for me not to growl my frustration. “Are you being honest? Hart, I wasn’t there. I don’t know how bad it was. But I know it took you a long time to get to the point where you were able to come and see me. Please tell me this isn’t going to be too much too soon.”
He pinched my chin between his thumb and forefinger, a gleam in his eye. “I can’t tell you how good it feels to know you worry about me like this. I’m not sure what to do with the way that makes me feel. But I can assure you that you’re not going to hurt me. That’s mostly because I’m going to lead us this first time after so long.”
I cocked a brow. “You are? Who said that was fair?”
“I never said it was fair. It’s just the way I need it to be.”
There was no reason for me to complain. It wasn’t as though Hart was anything less than stellar in bed. Regardless of who took the lead, I was reasonably confident neither one of us would be disappointed.
“Can I see the rest of it?” I asked, jerking my chin toward the scar.
Hart’s hands went to the fly of his jeans and worked at the button and zipper there. He pushed them down his legs and kicked them off before pushing the waistband of his underwear down another inch or so to show me the full length of the scar.
I lowered myself to the edge of the bed, my hands going to his hips as I inspected the wound he’d suffered. It was at least four inches in length, and I felt squeamish thinking about how much blood loss he must have suffered.
Tipping my head back, I looked up at him. “This is my fault.”
His features softened as he stroked his thumb along my jaw. “No, it’s not. This is the price I willingly paid for loving you. And I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat if it meant you being safe.”
I traced my fingers lightly over the puckered skin, aware of the way the muscles in his abdomen twitched at my touch. “You knew I was already out of there and safe before this happened.”
“Maybe. But I don’t regret what happened, because it meant seeking retribution on a personal level for what was done to you. It was just something I had to do. And that’s something I’m not sure I can explain beyond that. Even moving forward, especially now that we are taking steps to do this between us the right way, it’s always going to be like that. I will always defend you, Reagan.”
Closing my eyes, I allowed the warmth to spread through my body. Hart and I hadn’t gotten into the specifics of why he never wanted a relationship before all of this happened, but it seemed to me that he was already way ahead of the curve when it came to knowing what to do.
Sure, I could have said that it was merely because I hadn’t truly experienced love from anyone before that I’d be willing to accept anything, but this man, this handsome, wonderful man, had not only rescued me but he’d also taken a blade to his body and spilled his own blood to defend me.
That wasn’t me accepting scraps of adoration. That was me being genuinely cared for and loved by someone so extraordinary.
I leaned closer and pressed my lips to the marred skin, wanting Hart to know how much it meant to me, how much he meant to me. Something made me think that I could have done this all day, that I could have kissed every inch of his body, and I still wouldn’t come close to proving my love for him the way he had for me.
Hart gave me some time to kiss his abdomen, but eventually he urged me to my back on the bed, so he could strip me out of the rest of my clothes. I was surprised he didn’t have the same sense of urgency he always had, even when it hadn’t been anywhere near this long between. For some reason, Hart seemed content to take his time undressing me, like he was afraid he might miss something if he went too fast. His languid pace gave me the opportunity to watch him, to note the way his expression darkened as each garment was removed from my body.
And once everything was off, he continued to surprise me. Because for someone who had always been so demanding in the bedroom, who gave me orders to follow regularly, Hart didn’t do that this time.
Instead, he was undeniably sweet and tender with me. And while I loved anything and everything that I was getting from him, I wondered if what had happened changed that part of him. Maybe he couldn’t bring himself to make demands of me when he knew I’d been in a place for nearly two weeks being ordered around.
Sure, it had just started between us, but I could tell it was different than any other time we’d ever been together. I would have been willing to bet Hart wasn’t going to make a single demand of me as we connected with one another like this for the first time.
But even if we didn’t have that now, I wasn’t disappointed.
In fact, what Hart was doing was arguably better. He’d divested himself of his remaining clothing and climbed into the bed with me.
He pulled me close, kissed me sweetly, and allowed his hands to roam delicately over my skin.
There was a slow cadence to everything he did, like he had all the time in the world for this. For me.
Hart’s lips left my mouth, trailed along my jaw, and down the front of my throat. His hands caressed my hips, drifted up my sides, and squeezed my breasts. There were swipes of his tongue, nips of his teeth, and teasing from his fingertips.
It felt so good—and perhaps slightly overwhelming—to be here with him like this. To feel him close, to inhale his scent that I loved so much.
I didn’t know how much time had passed, but I knew it had been a while. My lips were swollen from kissing by the time Hart finally slipped inside.
And any questions I had about why he hadn’t been making demands of me were answered. Because the way Hart moved inside me while he kissed and caressed my body gave me those answers.
This wasn’t sex.
This was him making love to me. This was about him showing me how much I meant to him, how much he cared for me.
The words that escaped him were soft whispers against my skin and lips. They were filled with love and appreciation and relief and gratitude. He was savoring this moment, committing it to memory, and making it something neither one of us would ever forget.
For as long as I lived, I’d never forget this. I’d never forget him.
Hart and I were utterly lost in one another. Our limbs were tangled, our breaths mixing, our movements matched, and our moans intertwined. We reveled in it, in each other. And we allowed it to build gradually in a way we’d never done before.
But eventually, we reached that point where the unhurried pace of it all made way for frantic breaths and rapid heartbeats.
“Hart,” I breathed.
“Missed you, Reagan. Missed you so much.”
His voice.
The sound of his voice as he said those words would be engrained in my memory for the rest of my life.
“I missed you, too.”
He continued to move inside me. My hips worked to meet and match each of his thrusts.
“Love you, shortcake. Love you like nobody else.”
I was going to cry.
This man didn’t need to say the words for me to know how he felt, but I loved hearing them all the same.
And it was all I needed to push me that last little bit over the edge. “I love you.”
The moment I got the words out, I was free-falling, doing it with Hart right beside me. After everything I’d endured and all that Hart and I had been through, it was no surprise my emotions got the better of me. But what left me reeling was when I looked into Hart’s eyes and saw them filled with unshed tears.