Page 55 of Hardline (Hacker 3)

“Tell me how that feels.”

I closed my eyes and squirmed, the feel of leather on my ass reminding me of my nakedness. I groaned. “I’m warm all over. But I’m frustrated. I want your hands on me.”

“I know you do, baby. Soon enough. Do you want me to let you touch yourself some more?”

“Yes. Please.”

“How about you slide your fingers into your pussy and tell me how that feels.”

I exhaled sharply, my need urgent now. I couldn’t possibly last long this way. I moved down to my torso until my fingers traced the seam of my sex. I glided my index finger along my opening, over my sensitive clit, and back down again. I opened my eyes to find Blake’s on me again, his tongue wetting his lower lip. Seeing that small sign of his own hunger, I pressed into myself. I arched my back off the seat and moaned, wishing he were filling me now, where I’d wanted him for so long.

He adjusted himself before hitting the gas a little harder. “Talk to me, baby. We’re close.”

“You could be inside me so easily. I want you here, your mouth and your cock. It’s not enough, just me. I have to have you or I’m going to lose my mind, Blake.” I grabbed my breast with my free hand, pinching my nipple as he’d told me to before.

“Fuck,” he breathed. His grip tightened on the wheel.

“That’s what I want. I want you moving inside me, slamming into me. I want to forget everything except how that feels, how perfect you make it feel every time.”

He glanced sideways and caught my thigh with his free hand. He tugged my leg up so my knee rested on the console. I was fully open, exposed and eager for the attention he should have been putting on the road.

“Keep going,” he rasped.

“You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel this way. I love it. I love you. I’ve been going crazy missing you, needing you. Blake, I need you.”

I pumped into my sensitive tissues, my mind reeling with want.

“Blake, please,” I moaned, having no care of where we were. I was close and I couldn’t wait.

“Don’t stop. I want to see you come for me.”

I did as he asked, desperate for any relief, even at my own hand. I edged closer to orgasm, the promise of it coiling tight in my muscles. Eyes closed, I had no idea where we were until the car came to a sudden stop and Blake’s hands were at my breasts, his mouth hot and wet at my mouth.

“Come, baby. Hurry.”

His hand covered mine as I hastened my final strokes. My muscles tensed, my skin burning under the small places where we touched.

“Blake,” I breathed his name, over and over.

“I love watching you do this. God, I want you so bad. So fucking bad.”

Then I crashed over, just as his teeth sank down into my shoulder. I cried out, shaking with the force of the climax.

I came down slowly, the reality that I was spread eagle in his car on our not-so-private street slowly dawning. I swallowed over a gasp, gradually pulling myself back together. Blake leaned back, seeming to do the same as he stared through the window.

“Let’s go.”


I leaned back against the door of the apartment the minute it shut behind us, only a little sated. My legs were still jelly, but every cell was charged, ready for him.

“Come here.”

Blake turned after a few steps, hunger and hesitation at war on his beautiful features. Hunger won as he came back to me, pinning me gently. He kissed me, petal-soft brushes of his lips over mine. I shivered as he traced the skin of my shoulder down my arm, lacing our fingers together. He pulled back a fraction.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

My heart ached at the smallest increase in separation between us, that small recession from where we’d been moments ago. I gripped him by the hip, wishing I could will him back to me, wishing distance were the only obstacle between us.

“I want to.”

“I can wait. God knows, I don’t want to, but I can.”

Strain laced the words as he spoke. I arched into his gentle touch—whispers of skin on skin, quiet declarations of the love between us that had very recently had no outlet. Blake was my lover, and we loved with our bodies.

“I’m ready, Blake. I need this, to be this close to you.” I had to find my way through this, so we could find ourselves in each other again.

He cupped my cheek, holding my gaze. “I will wait. As long as you need to.”

“No more waiting. I’m...”

I shook my head, not wanting to show him my doubts, but it was too late. He leaned away, his green eyes questioning me.

“I can’t take this anymore. I don’t know if I’m ready or if I’ll freak out somewhere along the way, but we have to try because I can’t live like this, without you.”

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“No, it’s not the same. You know it’s not. This is who we are, how we love, and sometimes I can’t show you any other way.”

“You need time to work through this. I can see the hesitation in your eyes. I can feel it when you hold back. It shreds me. I can’t stand the idea of being the one who scares you and brings you back to those memories.”

“I know...God, you’ll never know how sorry I am, for all of this.” I sagged against the door, defeated by what Max had brought between us.

“You don’t need to be sorry. I’ve told you a hundred times. You need to believe me when I say that. None of this is or has ever been your fault.”

“I wish I could make it go away. You have no idea how badly I want have Mark’s memory wiped away forever, but even his death couldn’t do that. I thought maybe it would, but it didn’t. It took away the fear that he could hurt me again, but what he did to me on the inside...I don’t know if I’ll ever be free of it. I want to believe it won’t haunt me one day, but all of this...lately...everything feels so fresh. Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing it again, but with different eyes.”

“How do you mean?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but before, with Mark, right after he attacked me and for the years after, I was never really better. I was functional and happy enough and moving forward with my life, but in order to be, I put what Mark did to me away. I locked him in a box, threw away the key, and convinced myself I was fine. But I wasn’t. Before you came into my life, I hadn’t really faced any of it. Maybe out of self-preservation with school, because I couldn’t imagine letting the rape ruin me and everything I’d worked so hard for. But I can’t block it out anymore. It’s like this terrible ugly scar and I’m too exhausted to hide it anymore. You’ve seen it, and you don’t judge me or pity me for it. It’s a part of me, and for the first time in years I’m realizing that I’m not all the way healed yet. And that’s okay. But I’m better because of you, because of us.”