by Jenika Snow
Gates still surrounded me, but I was no longer on the other side of them looking out, desperately wanting freedom for the sole purpose of being with Harper.
The door shut behind me with a loud crash, or maybe things were just clearer on the other side, the deafening silence almost louder than anything I’d ever experienced in the last seven years.
I lowered my hand and immediately saw the one person who meant more to me than my very life. Harper stood by the passenger side door, leaning against it. She no longer drove the little beige Honda Accord she’d had all those years ago, the rust around the edges something I’d teased her about more times than not. I remembered working on her car seemingly every other weekend, the damn thing having one issue after another.
That had been a lifetime ago.
She had her hands up by her lips, covering her mouth, emotion written across her face.
I took a step forward, but she didn’t move. I could see the water in her eyes, the way it glistened as the sun hit her face, her emotions causing my chest to ache. It was clear she was trying not to cry. But she was strong, so damn strong.
That was my girl through and through.
She dropped her hands to her sides, and I watched as her lips formed the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen her wear.
And then nothing else mattered.
I dropped the plastic bag that held the only possessions I had left in this world, and ran toward her at the same time she came forward. We crashed together, her much smaller body pressed to mine, making me feel drunk and high all at the same time.
I wrapped my arms around her, lifting her small frame up and holding her close. God, she felt so good, incredible pressed against me.
“Arsen,” she whispered.
I could hear her crying, soft sniffles that slammed into me as if she’d hammered a nail right into my heart. Although I’d seen her while being locked up, this was different.
This was real, where I could hold her and smell the sweet floral scent that always clung to her. It was that aroma that got me through each night as I fell asleep, imagining that scent, actually smelling it and feeling it filter into every single cell in my body.
“God, I missed you,” I said into her hair, closing my eyes and inhaling deeply, taking in that scent that I’d grown to know as only mine.
She pulled back first, and I was disappointed. I could’ve stood there and held her for an eternity. I lifted my hand and moved my thumb underneath her eye, right over her cheek, wiping away tears that spilled down. I leaned in and kissed the top of her head, my entire body strung tight, this basic, primal urge inside of me to claim her, make her mine.
I wasn’t a complete barbarian, knew that we needed to talk, that I had to tell her the truth, how I felt, that I loved her more than life itself. I was tired of waiting. Too many years had passed. Tonight was the night I’d lay it all bare.
I wanted to get out of here, away from the prison and the reminder of where I had been for the past seven years. But moving from the spot, away from Harper—well, it was pretty damn hard. I forced myself to pull back, take a deep breath, and let go of her. She sniffled and wiped away the remaining wetness on her cheeks before smiling.
“Enough with me acting like a blubbering fool. You probably want to get out of this damn place.” She walked past me, and I looked over my shoulder to see her picking up the bag with my items in it. For a moment she just stared at it, able to see the contents through the clear plastic. What was she thinking about right now? Was she remembering the night I’d worn it, the night I’d killed her father right in front of her?
When she looked up at me again, it wasn’t the same girl I’d left in that house seven years ago, crying and telling me not to leave, yelling to the cops that what I’d done was to protect her. I didn’t know what she had going on in her life, aside from the bare minimum that she told me during her visits. I didn’t want to know the details because it just reminded me that I wasn’t there to experience them with her.
Had she found someone else? Was she dating? Although it was never brought up, I had a feeling if she were seeing someone, she wouldn’t have told me, not while I was in fucking prison.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” she said and smiled.
She walked close to me, and I reached out and took the bag from her, walked the few steps it took to get to the trash can, and shoved that suit right in the bin. It was a reminder of what had been taken from me, and this was the last time I would ever see it.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
She grinned wider and nodded. “Come on, I plan on wining and dining you tonight.” She laughed softly and walked up to me, rising up on her toes and kissing me on the cheek. For the third time since I’d stepped out of that lock-and-key door, I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.
Harper pulled away and headed toward the driver side, and I did the same on the passenger side. Once we were in the car, she cranked the engine and pulled away. I stared at the place that had been my home, a holding cell for the past seven years. It had shaped the man I was today.
I wasn’t the same person, and I hoped I didn’t end up creating this mountain between us.
Chapter Eight
Arsen
I leaned back on the couch, pleasantly full for the first time in God knows how long. I watched as Harper stood by the sink, soft sounds of her humming filling me with peace. She’d made my favorite: spaghetti and meatballs, homemade garlic bread, a garden salad. She’d even baked me a peach pie, my absolute fucking favorite, and something I’d been missing.
“You want another beer?” she said over her shoulder without looking at me. I didn’t answer and instead stood and walked into the kitchen.
“How about I get us both one and then have you stop doing those dishes and come and sit with me?”
She looked at me then and grinned, a flash of straight white teeth framed by perfect pink lips. My heart started racing as I took in the sight of her, the way her dark hair fell over her shoulder in a loose braid, with the strands that had fallen out of it brushing along her cheeks.
Her eyes, this gorgeous shade of blue, stared at me with nothing but love and trust reflected back in them. I swallowed roughly and turned from her, feeling my cock hardening and cursing the fucker for not being in control.
I opened the fridge and grabbed two beers, the bottles clanking together as I shut the door. And then I took her damp hand, droplets of dishwater falling onto the floor, and pulled her into the living room with me. I let go, and she dried her hands on her pants, laughing softly as she sat on the couch beside me.
She shifted so her body faced me, her arm on the back of the couch, her hand curled into a loose fist as she rested her head against her knuckles. For long seconds we just sat there and stared at each other. I wanted to say so much, tell her all the things that I’d kept to myself before I got locked up all those years ago. But the words were lodged in my throat.
This silence wasn’t something I was used to. Shouting and yelling, fights breaking out, curses ringing through and echoing off the walls, had been my life for so long now that it felt strange, almost foreign not to hear anything but the ticking of her wall clock.
“I’m sorry, Harper,” I finally said, breaking up the silence.
“For what?” Her eyes were wide, her surprise at my apology clear.
I glanced away and cleared my throat. “For everything. For making you watch while I…” I cleared my throat again and ran my hand over my mouth. “While I killed your father.” I glanced at her then, the honesty pouring out of me. “For leaving you for all those years, making you be alone. I’m so fucking sorry for everything.”
She shook her head and moved closer to me, cupping my cheek in her small hand, staring at me with wide eyes. “You saved me, protected me.” I could see she was on the verge of crying. “If you hadn’t shown up…” She shook her head. “I don’t want to even think about what would have happened. You saved my life in more
ways than one, Arsen. I should be apologizing to you for putting you in that situation.” She wiped a stray tear away. “I should have told you the truth from the beginning, not hidden it away because I was embarrassed by it all. I should have done more, said more.”
It was my turn to shake my head. “No, you don’t ever apologize for that, baby.” I pulled her in close then, unable to stop myself. I held her for long seconds, knowing that she was bared right now, like an open wound of emotions and feelings.
I felt the same way.
“I love you, Harper.” I pulled back and looked into her face.
“I love you too.”
I shook my head. “No, baby. I love you.” I heard her sharp inhale and knew by her tone and expression that she knew what I meant. She looked so small compared to me, so vulnerable. “I love you so fucking much, and it was my feelings for you that got me through those seven years.” My entire body was tight. “It was the thoughts of being able to hold you, of finally admitting the truth, hoping you didn’t hate me, that made being away from you bearable.”
I let go of her just as she started to cry. I wiped her tears away before curling my fingers toward my palm and setting my hand in my lap. I wanted to pull her in close, smooth my hand down her hair, hear her say how much she loved me too.
She didn’t say anything for long moments, and I wondered if I’d crossed the line. But even if she rejected the kind of love I had for her, even if she wanted to keep us exactly where we were at, I’d have no regrets about being honest with her.
The only regret I had was that I hadn’t said something sooner.
“Say something, anything,” I whispered, wanting to hold her but forcing myself not to. I didn’t want to make this even worse, didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.
But God, not touching her was hard.
“You’re in love with me?” She said the words so soft I almost didn’t hear.
“So fucking much it hurts. My love for you is a lifeline, the very reason that I breathe.” My voice became thicker.
She inhaled deeply, the sound spearing right to my heart. “I’m in love with you too,” she whispered this time, the smile forming on her perfect fucking lips making my heart race.
“Say it again,” I said gruffly and then held my breath and waited.
“I love you, Arsen Gray. I’ve loved you for longer than I want to even admit. I should’ve been honest with you and maybe things would’ve been different. But the moment is here now, and I fucking love you.” She laughed softly. “I love you so damn much.”
“God, baby girl.”
The silence stretched, and she leaned in close, her warm, sweet-smelling breath moving across my lips. “There’s so much I wanted to tell you all these years, every time I came to visit. I wanted to tell you how much I loved you, that you are the only important thing in my life.” She closed her eyes for a second before opening them again and staring at me. “But it seemed cruel to say anything when you were locked up. So I waited until you were out, worked to save up, to get us away from this damn town.” She smiled softly. “I worked hard in hopes you’d want me in your life in the way I wanted to be in it.”
And then I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t even try. I pulled her onto my lap so her legs were framing either side of my body, cupped the sides of her neck, and slanted my mouth on hers. I groaned deeply from her flavor, the potency of my addiction for her. My obsession was so intense my heart could’ve stopped right then and there and it would’ve been the best fucking way to go.
I stroked my tongue along the seam of her lips, taking in the soft moan that came from her. I pulled back, breathing hard and heavy.
“Don’t stop,” she said softly.
I felt her pulse beat right underneath my thumb, and shook my head slowly. “I’ll never stop when it comes to you, Harper.”
Chapter Nine
Harper
God. This was really happening, and I wasn’t going to stop it.
I loved him.
Always had.
Always would.
“Arsen,” I said slowly, my voice pitched low.
“Harper,” he said just as low, just as needy.
I pulled back and stared into his eyes, my chest rising and falling almost violently.
“The way you’re looking at me is very dangerous, baby.”
I wanted to feel more of it. I wanted that roughness coating me like a second skin.
I shivered and licked my lips, my heart pounding in the center of my throat. “And what way is that, Arsen?” I wanted his body pressed against mine again. I knew I was playing with fire. Arsen was different, changed. He was hardened and looked at me like he wanted to consume me.
Before I knew what was happening, he was standing with me in his arms. He let my body slide sexually, suggestively against his, and I felt the hard outline of his need for me.
“The way that has this beast rising up in me. This look you’re giving me that’s sweet and innocent and calls out to every fucked-up and brutal bone in my body.”
My heart pounded so hard that I felt like it would burst right through my chest. He stared at my lips, and I felt them part under the weight of his stare.
Arsen was most definitely different. Changed.
He was so masculine and raw, so dangerous in appearance. It was like he wore his scars on the outside and in, as if they projected toward me.
I opened my mouth, maybe to tell him that I wanted this desperately, that I’d waited for him my entire life. I wanted to tell him I was a virgin, that no other man had touched me, that he was the only one I’d ever wanted.
And then he pulled me forward so I collided with his wide, muscular chest. The air left me, the oxygen leaving my lungs on a whoosh.
“There’s no going back, Harper. Once I have you, once I touch you, make you mine, there is no going back.” He looked right in my eyes, as if his stare alone had the power to bend me to his will.
It did.
He pulled me impossibly closer to him, and I gasped. “I can’t stop. I won’t.”
“Good,” I breathed out. And then I was the one to kiss him, slamming my mouth on his, our tongues pressing against each other’s, the feel of his hard dick right against to my belly.
“Christ,” he hissed.
He pulled back far too soon, and I sucked in a gasp of air. My lips tingled, his flavor covering every part of me. I wanted to be with him in any way, in all the ways that mattered, that he wanted.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I’m so wet.”
Arsen groaned. “Yeah, you are, baby.”
God.
“Tell me how much you fucking want this.”
His breath brushed along my lips, and I couldn’t stop the small sound that left me.
I wanted to feel him slide his cock deep inside of me, to show me what it really felt like to be claimed, be owned. There was no doubt he’d stretch me, that he’d be huge once he was inside of me.
I was ready for him.
“Arsen,” I whispered. “Please.” I didn’t know exactly what I was asking for, but the lone word came out of me on its own.
“Tell me,” he said on a gruff voice.
I didn’t even hesitate. “I want this, Arsen.”
He let out this deep sound from his chest. “You want me?”
I nodded. “I want you,” I whispered.
He didn’t speak for long seconds, just stared at me as if he could see through me, as if he could read my soul. And then he cupped my cheek, his hand big, his skin rough like how I’d envisioned a man’s touch would be.
I craved more from him.
And then he leaned in and kissed me. His lips on mine were soft, easy. Gentle.
“I want to be gentle with you, Harper. But I’m a changed man.” He said the words against my lips.
“I just want you,” I said on instinct. “Arsen,” I whispered.
Sweet and gentle.
Hard and fast.
I didn’t care ho
w I had Arsen as long as I had him, as long as he was mine.
A dark look of possession and arousal covered his face as he stared at me. “You want me? Just as I am, even if I’m hardened, rawer than how you remember me?”
I licked my lips and nodded. “Yes,” I whispered.
“God,” he whispered and rested his forehead against mine. “Locked up, for all those years, you were always on my mind. Day in and day out, you’re all I thought about. All I could see was holding you once I was out, finally telling you that you are mine.”
I was shaking, unable to stop the emotions as they claimed my body.
“Tell me you’ll only ever be mine.” He kissed me again and again, and I felt myself lean into him, felt my love grow.
“I’m only yours.”
“You’ve always been mine,” he said gruffly. And then he slid his hand over my side, up my rib cage, and covered my breast. A moan spilled from me. I’d dreamed about this moment, fantasized about it. I’d touched myself thinking about Arsen, wishing it was him.
He applied pressure to my breast, curled his hand around my sensitive flesh until a sting of pain filled me and mixed with the pleasure mounting. “Yes.” The word came out of me on its own. I closed my eyes, breathing hard, my heart racing.
And then he was sucking at the base of my throat, the feel of the scruff that covered his cheeks and chin moving along my flesh, abrading it … turning me on.
I could have climaxed from the feel of his teeth and lips on my body. I wanted to get off from that alone.
“God, baby,” he groaned.
Curling my hands around his muscular shoulders, I dug my nails into his tattooed flesh, pulling him closer. I’d been waiting for this moment for longer than I could even admit, so long I’d probably seem insane. But he was the only person I’d ever seen myself spending the rest of my life with. He was the only man who made my heart flutter, my palms sweat, and every part of my body come alive.
The hardened, more serrated version of Arsen, the one looking at me as if I was the last piece of steak and he was starving, turned me on even more.