Chapter 39

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Hardin's POV:

An hour later, I'm waiting for Tessa as she gets dressed and ready for her work. I also get dressed too for walk with her to the restaurant her works. Sitting on the couch as I pull my second boots on, she enters the living room.

Looking up at her with a smile on my face, I ask "Ready?"

"For what?" She grabs her apron from the back of the chair and shove her phone into her pocket.

"The walk to work, of course," I say as its matter-of-factly. She nods and smile back. I walk out the front door and she follows me.

As we walking through the street, I complain, "The one, well, one of the problems that I have with this city is this..." I wave my hand up at the sky. "The sun is hidden."

"You live in rainy Washington-you can't bash New York's lack of sun," she counters. I laugh and change the subject, asking her questions about the world of waitressing.

The rest of the walk I ask her about what she had been doing for the last five months, and she tells me about her mother, David, her boyfriend and his daughter.
Poor them. They got that woman.

And she tells me about her first week of nights in this noisy-ass city. And also how she met Joe for the first time, and tells that the homeless man reminds of her father in a way, and she like to think that bringing him food is helping him in a way that she supposed that she couldn't help her own blood. But she did more that help that the man, her father deserve and left her with this guilt that she didn't do much to help him, save him.

This confession, raw and pure giving to me tells that who is she around me, only me. So I reach to pull her hand into mine, hoping that she won't pulls away; fucking happy that she didn't when I do. And at last giving me assurance that she's glad that I visit her here.

When the son-of-sheriff, Robert, meets us at the corner, I move closer to Tess, hold her hand a little tighter. Neither of us say much; just eye each other up, and catches Tessa rolls her eyes.

"I'll be here when you get off." I lean into Tess press my lips against her cheek, and my fingers tuck her hair behind her
ear. "Don't work too hard," I whisper against her cheek; giving her suggestion with a smile. Though I'm fucking serious, she do as per the Landon's given information.

Finally clock out over five hours later. I'm sitting on the bench, waiting for her in the lobby. She'd be here at any minute.

"She's more happy as you visit her here." Someone says. When I look around, Sarah is standing next to the bench I'm sitting on. Is she talking to me?
"I'm talking to you."

"Who are you taking about?" I ask, though I know the answer.

"Tessa obviously." She rolls her eyes. "Hope you wouldn't fuck up this time."

What the fuck she said. What the hell does she knows about me and Tess? Did Tessa told about us to this chick? She is friend of her, so maybe....

Before I say anything to annoy her the way she did, Tessa come and stand in front of us. As I stand up and take her hand in mine, giving the chick one last glare, we walk out the restaurant.

I pull a small chunk of something, maybe ‌noodles from her ponytail as we walk outside.
"I don't even want to know what that was." She laughs softly. I smile and pulls a tissue from my pocket and hands it to her.

She uses the tissue to wipe under her eyes. I lead the conversation, asking simple questions about her shift, and we get back to the apartment quickly.

"My feet are killing me," she groans, pulling her shoes off of her feet and tossing them aside. My eyes follow them, she wouldn't just do that. I know my clean freak girl. She saw me staring them cause she says, "I'm going to put them away in a minute, of course."

"Thought so." I smile and sit down next to her on her bed. "Come here." I gather her ankles in my hands, and she turn to face me as I rest her feet on my lap. I begin to rub her feet with my hands, and she lie back on the mattress.

"Thank you," she moans. She closes her eyes while I massaging her feet. Her face fucking tells me enough that she ease up with my touch.

"No problem. I can deal with the smell to see that relaxed, fucking dreamy look in your eyes." She lifts her hand, swatting at the air, cause she couldn't reach to me to do and I laugh and continues to work my magic on her feet.

My hands move to her calves and up to her thighs. I am loving the sound falling from her fuckable lips. I've starve her touch and the fucking sound she makes. I'd get hard in less than a fucking second by them, by her.

"Come sit in front of me," I instruct, gently pushing her
feet from my lap. She sits up, climbing over my lap, and sits in
between my legs. I grip her shoulders, first; I press my fingertips into her tense muscles and rub every ounce of tension out of them that she carries on it.

"If you weren't wearing a shirt, this would feel much
better," I comment. She laughs for a moment, but then leans forward, reaches for the bottom of her loose work shirt and tug it free from her pants. I gasp, when she pull her shirt with her tank top underneath and revealing her simple black cotton padded bra with red straps.

"What? It was your idea," she reminds me, and leans back against me. My hands are rougher now, pushing into her creamy skin with purpose, and her head falls back against my chest.

"You wanted to get fucked, don't you?" I mumble under my breath. "This is new." My finger pushes under the strap on one of her shoulders and lift the strap and drop it back down.
I've seen every bra and panties collections she had it and I've never seen this one before.

She doen't speak anything, only scoots back slightly, pressing her back against my open legs. I groan, wrapping the span of my
hand around the base of her neck, my fingers gently rubs over the bottom of her jaw and back down to the delicate skin under her ear.

"Feels good?" I ask, knowing the fucking answer.

"Mhmm" is the only sound she musters. She is fucking lost in my sensation.

When I chuckle, she pushed farther into me, especially rubbing her body against my crotch, and she bring her hand up to her bra strap and slide it down her shoulder.
Oh, fuck, Tess stop it.

My hand tighten on her throat. "No teasing," I warn, pushing the strap back up with the hand that was working on her shoulders.

"Says the master of the art," she complains, and pushes the strap
down again. Sitting half-naked in front of me, removing her bra
while my hand is still holding her in place. Damn her. She needs me so fucking bad and I'm pushing her away from what she wants.

I begin to rub myself against her, panting amplifying her hormones. "No teasing," she mocks my words. I put my hands over her shoulders and turn her head toward me.

"I haven't been fucked in five months, Theresa. You're pushing every ounce of my self-control," I harshly whisper, just above her lips. She look down at my lips and presses her mouth to mine.

"You haven't?" She gapes. What? She thinks that I've been fucking other chicks to cool down my fucking hormones. I'm not the same fucked up man I was a year ago, Tess. I want to say.

She climbs on my lap, my hands grip her waist, pushing her gently to move along with my body when I lie down on the bed. "Tess," I moan. Her thighs straddles my torso, and her hands dig into my hair. I run my fingers gently down her spine and press my chest to her naked chest.



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