by Diana Gardin
I slide my other hand up the side of her smooth thigh, burning a trail over her hip, until my fingers reach the velvet lips of her pussy. She’s hot, impossibly fucking hot, and my fingers are instantly soaked by her arousal.
I can’t stop the growl that erupts from my chest and rumbles against her ear as my mouth finds her heated skin. “So wet, sweetheart. So ready for me. In your sleep? Goddamn, that’s sexy.”
My cock grinds against her ass, practically begging me to ease the ache building, brimming, almost bursting inside.
Arden gasps, and her body tenses for just a second before she moans, this time pushing back against me with awareness and purpose.
“Flash? Oh, God…I thought I was dreaming. You…I need…” Her words fall away as I slip two fingers inside her.
My thumb strokes a slow circle over her swollen, throbbing clit, and my teeth graze her neck as I whisper roughly in her ear, “I know what you need, Bunny.”
I fuck her slowly with my fingers, savoring the feel of her, the sounds she makes, as she rides my hand. It’s the first time—since I was a teenager, I think—I could come just from touch alone, and I dip my head and sink my teeth into her shoulder just to keep from coming.
“Please, Flash,” she begs, and fuck me, I shouldn’t love the sound of her begging this much.
But I want her needy, and begging, and all twisted up beneath me until I know that I’m the only one who can put her back together. This woman, who’s been so strong, so held together with the most fragile kind of glue; all I want is for her to feel safe enough to fall apart in my arms.
And trust me to heal the pieces, over and over again. As often as she needs me to.
I pick up the pace, thrusting my fingers faster inside her as I allow the hand at her breast to cup her harder. As my thumb presses down firmly on her clit, I feel her clenching around me. My fingers are drenched with her pleasure as her legs start to shake.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” I urge, needing it just as bad as she does. “Let me have it.”
“Flash!” She finds the back of my head, her fingers tugging at my hair as she breaks, her gasps filling the room before she goes limp in my arms.
Like she thinks I’m done with her.
“That’s my girl,” I murmur, kissing her neck as I release my hand from her pussy and grip her knee.
Lifting her leg to settle over mine, I enter her from behind with one quick thrust, and my cock surges, growing even stiffer as I’m soaked with her wetness.
“Fucking hell.” I groan, going still inside her, just to savor the way she feels wrapping around me, like honey on a clover. “You’re gonna destroy me, you know that?”
Her breathless voice finds me as she thrusts her ass back against me. “Good. Then it’ll be a mutual destruction.”
Fuck. This woman.
“Move, Flash. I need you.”
I pull out of her slowly, biting my lip against the tug and release of her body to mine, the perfect way we fit together. Bodies were made to fit this way, I know this, but I’m still blown away by how well she sheaths me.
Sheaths me. Fuck.
I freeze. “No condom. Shit, baby. I’m sorry,” I breathe.
She grabs the back of my head again, tilting her face up and finding my lips. Hers are slick, and my mouth opens hungrily to taste her, groaning at the wet slide of her tongue against mine.
When she pulls away, I’m almost dizzy with my need for her. “Don’t be. I’m not. Now, make love to me, Flash. Please.”
It’s the hoarse little “please” that breaks the dam holding back the last strands of my restraint. I forget about condoms, I forget about being gentle. I forget about everything, except the basic need to make her mine.
One hand gripping her hip, I pull out and slam into her, savoring the pleased cry that bursts from her when I do. Again and again, our bodies meet, and the air is filled with the sounds of our fucking.
Of our…lovemaking? Something inside me twists with the slightest twinge of fear at the thought, but I don’t let it stop me as Arden takes over my brain, my body, and my heart.
One thought fills my head as my body draws tight and I roar my release into her hair, filling her with everything I have inside me.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
21
Flash
February 2, 2018
“Settle, Nitro.”
I bite back a grin, because my dog lets out a low growl every time Reese Manheim walks into my office at SJI. I don’t work at the office every day; I don’t have to run the company alone. I have a personal desire to make my parents’ company soar, not just in their memory, but for the sake of my brother’s and my own legacy. Now that I have a vested interest in this place, and the new product line I envisioned is coming to life, I like being here a few days a week to monitor the progress in person, and to soak up every bit of knowledge about this company that I never knew I wanted so much, until I stepped up to manage it.
“What can I do for you, Manheim?” I keep my voice even, even though the president of SJI and I have figured out there’s not much we agree on, personally or professionally.
To be quite honest, every conversation I have with the man has me walking away feeling like I need to take a shower, and I’m pretty certain he won’t be holding his top position for much longer. I need to surround myself with people I trust and have faith in, and Manheim isn’t turning out to be one of those people.
“Sir.” He approaches my desk, his footsteps heavy, before I hear him stop just in front of it. “I wanted to update you on the plans for the product ad launch party coming up next week. All the final details are in place.”
“Yeah?” I lift a brow, lacing my fingers together behind my head as I lean back in my chair. “That’s great. But why are you updating me? Isn’t this whole thing Mandy’s baby?”
I can almost hear him rolling his eyes. While I’m relaxed at the office in slacks and a button-down, no tie, I know without seeing him that Manheim’s all buttoned-up in a suit and tie every day. He probably hates the way I talk about business as much as he dislikes everything else about me, but I could give a shit less about sounding like I graduated from an Ivy League business school.
Whether Reese Manheim likes it or not, this company’s mine. And he can’t hide the fact that it makes him want to shove my face into my desk every time he sees me. He wears his jealousy like a fucking jacket, but all it does is make me smile.
I still can’t figure out if Poppy ever told him about our history. After the way she dismissed him the day of that first board meeting I showed up to, he has to at least suspect. But it’s not my job to fill him in. If he knows, and thinks I give two fucks about the fact that he’s with her now, he’s mistaken.
I haven’t brought Arden around the office yet, but anyone here would only have to take one look at me with her to know there’s only one woman in my life who matters to me now.
Poppy’s nothing but a distant memory, which is exactly the reason I haven’t told Arden about her. Anything, anyone that happened before her doesn’t matter. Everything that’s happened with Arden has been a hard-fought battle won, and I don’t want anything to set us back even a step.
Poppy isn’t someone she should worry about, and I don’t want any ideas put in her head that say otherwise.
Manheim clears his throat. “As head of our Marketing Department, yeah…Mandy’s taken care of all of it. But I wanted to brief you personally.”
Of course you did, you slimy prick.
Aloud, I level my voice. “Shoot.”
I listen for fifteen minutes to Manheim drone on with the details that I only care a little bit about. I’ve already received several e-mails from Mandy, updating me periodically about the ad launch event, and I know Manheim’s just here to stay close.
When he finally finishes, he gets around to asking me what I can only guess is what he really wants to know. “Will you be bringing a plus-one to the even
t?”
I fill in the words he didn’t say. Or will you be hitting on my girlfriend all night?
I swallow my chuckle. “Hadn’t really thought about it. But yeah, I guess so.”
I can almost hear his sigh of relief. “Perfect. I’ll let Mandy know.”
Nodding, I lean over my desk and wake up my laptop, effectively dismissing him. “You do that, Manheim.”
His footsteps retreat, but I hear them pause at my door. I glance up again, listening.
“Mr. Jackson.” The disdain in Manheim’s voice he reserves just for anyone named Jackson is clear.
“Manheim.” Axel doesn’t bother to hide the fact that the feeling is mutual, and I hear him kick my office door shut behind Manheim before he crosses over to stand by the window behind my desk.
“That dude’s such a douche.” Axel flicks the casual words over his shoulder, and I snort.
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure we’re gonna be in the market for a new president down the road.”
“Thank fuck.” The grin in Axel’s voice is apparent when he answers.
I lean back in my chair again, tilting my head to one side. “You coming to the ad launch?”
My brother isn’t interested in the day-to-day running of SJI, but he’s been behind me every step of the way as I’ve made known my intentions to become more than a name at the company.
“Wouldn’t miss that shit,” he says seriously, just before laying a hand on my shoulder. “Proud of you, big brother.”
I can’t help my own sense of pride surging forward, upward, at Axel’s words. “Thanks.”
I track his movements as he removes his hand from my shoulder and sits on the edge of my desk. “So you bringing Arden to the launch?”
The same warm and slippery feeling that always slides around in my chest when I’m thinking about Arden pulls a grin to my lips.
“Christ.” Axel’s voice goes quiet, his tone becoming serious. “I never thought it would happen.”
“What’s that?”
He pauses, obviously choosing his words carefully. “You. That shit-eating grin on your face. Man, I hoped I was wrong, but I was scared that, after you lost your sight, I’d lost that man forever. My brother as I knew him. He was gone.”
The air catches in my throat, remembering the man Axel’s talking about. It wasn’t that long ago that I also thought he was here to stay.
“That was before Arden.” The somber tone of my voice matches my brother’s, but my lips are still quirked upward in a smile. “She changed the game, brother.”
“Yeah, that she did.” There’s admiration in his tone now. “The change I see in you is…well, it’s humbling. One day, I’m going to thank her for giving me my brother back.”
I swallow. “Yeah. First, I need to find a way to let her know that this thing between us isn’t going anywhere, Ax. I want this woman…and I want her long-term. But I think telling her that might scare the shit out of her. Every single step we’ve taken has been one I’ve had to work for…she’s not like any other woman, you know? As strong as she is, she’s also exactly that fragile. She’s been shattered before…and I don’t want to be the reason she breaks again. All I want to do is…”
“Love her? Are you saying this is love? After everything you went through with losing your eyesight, and then that bitch Poppy walking out…you think Arden is a forever kind of thing?”
I chuckle, even though humor is so damn far from what I’m feeling right now. “Nah, I don’t think. I know that forever is the only place Arden and I are going. I’d bet my life on it.”
22
Arden
February 7, 2018
I’m breathless as Flash and I slow to a walk in front of The Art Of Java. “I can’t wait to see the company your parents started. The place that’s been stealing so much of your time from me.”
Though my tone is teasing, there’s truth in my words. Every time I’m with Flash, I lose another piece of myself somewhere inside of him. I’m not complaining, but the attachment is real and intense, and I can’t deny the fact that it’s helped me deal with the grief I’d been drowning in when I met him.
Now, I can remember my husband and my son without feeling like I can’t draw breath into my lungs.
We still run together most mornings, and I squeeze his hand to let him know we need to slow for our cooldown walk.
“I can’t wait to show it to you,” he murmurs, holding my hand tighter instead of letting me go. “I’ve been working there a lot, but that’s only because of the new rollout.”
I give his hand a squeeze. “That’s right. The new product. I can’t wait to see it.”
We walk into the studio and are immediately greeted by the smell of fresh-baked pastries assaults our senses. I groan with delight.
“B is going to kill me. God, now I need a scone.”
Flash chuckles beside me. “I could go for a scone.”
Brantley pops up from behind the counter. “Did someone say scone?”
She slides two warm pastries onto plates and sets them in front of us as we reach the counter. I grab mine and stuff a bite of chocolate-chip scone into my mouth. “Delicious, B. As always.”
My words come out muffled, and Brantley looks smug. “I see you and Flash have reached the ‘I-don’t-give-a-shit-about-manners’ stage in your relationship.”
I glance at Flash, who’s stuffing his face just like I am, and laugh. Little bits of scone fly out of my mouth and hit the counter. I clap a hand over my mouth and can’t control the laughter bubbling out. “Oh, my God. What is wrong with me?”
Brantley rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile dancing across her lips. “It’s called happiness, Ards. Go with it.”
My laughter comes to a stop and I glance down at the counter. Silence settles over us, and I know I’m messing everything up.
You’re allowed to be happy. You’re allowed to be happy.
Brantley sighs and turns around, picking up a coffee filter and changing out the machine. When I feel Flash’s finger underneath my chin, I glance up at him.
“Hey,” he says quietly. “Stay with me. I want to see your studio.”
I swallow, my eyes flicking toward the back of the shop where my studio lies dormant. “You do?”
He nods. “Yeah. Let me see it.”
My stomach tightens, but if he wants to see it… I take his hand and lead him to my pottery studio.
I flick on the light and hold my breath when we cross the threshold, aware of the fact that I haven’t been in this room since before everything. I’ve walked past it a dozen times since coming back to work, but I haven’t been able to bring myself in here. The place where I taught my little boy the art of making a matted lump of clay into something beautiful. The place where I spent hours making cups, vases, plates, and anything else under the sun that can be made with clay.
Once, it was my sanctuary. But now? Now I’m not sure what it is, other than a graveyard of memories.
After a moment of being frozen to the spot, Flash takes my hand and moves to stand in front of me. “Are you looking at me, Bunny?”
I nod, and then shake my head at my mistake. “Yes.”
“Good. There’s no pressure, but I want you to hear me out.” His face is serious, and that always makes me pay attention.
“Okay.”
He’s quiet a moment, his gaze locked on mine, before speaking. “This place? The place where you used to make beautiful things? This place is a part of you. Sculpting, making pottery…it holds a part of your soul. Just like running does. If you don’t allow yourself to have this again, to let art back into your world…there’s always going to be a part of yourself missing.”
My heart sinks, but only because he’s right. My voice scratches out of me in a whisper. “But something’s already missing.”
“Not missing.” His tone is gentle, but firm. “Remember?” He kisses his fingers and touches my chest. “Right here.”
I close my eyes and let the meani
ng of his words sink in. I don’t know how long we stand there like that, but when I feel my racing heartbeat settle and calm starts to ease into my limbs, I take his hand in mine.
“Do you want to make something with me?”
Flash’s mouth kicks up on one side. “I don’t know how.”
Leading him toward the stool I keep in front of the wheel, I sit and pull him down behind me. “I’ll show you.”
Flash wraps his arms around my waist and I sink back against him as I grab a lump of clay out of a container by my feet and place it on the wheel. Grabbing his hands, I guide them to run all over the clay, letting him test its firmness, feel how large it is.
“I’m using my foot to make the wheel move, and our masterpiece is going to start to take shape.” My heartbeat is racing again, but I’m not sure why.
Is it because I’m making pottery again? Or is it because of how close Flash is to me while I do this thing that I love so much? It’s most likely a combination of the two.
He’s silent as I guide his hands, helping him to turn the ball of clay into a tall and slender shape. “This is going to be a vase, I think.”
“And is it going to be sold in the shop?” Flash’s voice behind me is husky, low. I shiver at the sound.
I shake my head with no hesitation. “No, I think I’ll take this one home. This is a brand-new memory. One I want to keep.”
His only answer is the gentle brush of his lips against the skin of my neck.
We don’t stop until we hear Brantley hollering from the coffee shop. “We need to get a move on, bestie!”
“Oh, boy.” Flash’s voice is nothing but a mumble at my back as he leans in, kissing the nape of my neck. I try hard to hide the frustration creeping into my expression. We leave our vase beside the kiln and walk back out to the shop.
“What are you talking about?” I demand, walking until we meet Brantley at the other end of the counter. “What am I missing?”