Tell Me Now!
HARDIN’S POV
She leaned in, her breath still warm against my lips, her fingers tangled lazily in my shirt.
“We should clean up,” she murmured with a soft, teasing smile. “Wouldn’t want my assistant walking in to find my desk looking like a hurricane hit it. She’d start imagining things.”
I chuckled, brushing my lips against hers one last time before stepping back. “Pretty sure she wouldn’t have to imagine much.”
Ariana swatted my chest playfully, then bent down to gather the scattered papers we’d sent flying across the floor. Watching her crouch like that, her skirt still slightly bunched, her cheeks flushed and glowing from the orgasm I gave her—it took every ounce of restraint not to pull her back into my lap and forget the world again.
She was straightening the documents, smoothing out the creases, when I crossed the room and grabbed the laptop that had nearly fallen off the edge. I placed it carefully back in place, then turned to help her with the rest.
The silence between us wasn’t awkward. It was warm. Sated. The kind of silence that comes after everything is said without words—when bodies speak louder.
But still…
I couldn't help myself.
As soon as she reached for the last file, I grabbed her wrist gently, tugged her toward me, and sank into her office chair, pulling her down with me.
She gasped a little, laughing as she landed on my lap again, arms sliding around my shoulders. “Hardin—”
I kissed her, cutting her off. Deep and slow, like I needed to remind myself of every taste, every sound she made when my mouth claimed hers.
She kissed me back, melting into me, her fingers brushing through my hair.
“I’m going to be gone all weekend,” I murmured against her lips. “And the idea of not having you near me is already driving me insane.”
Her expression softened. “It’s just a weekend.”
“Too long,” I said. “Way too long.”
She pressed her forehead to mine, her voice like velvet. “I’ll be right here. Waiting. Always.”
That damn promise. It wrapped around my heart like a ribbon. A comfort. A tether.
I kissed her again, hungrier this time. I couldn’t help it. I was already aching again, already getting hard from the feel of her weight in my lap, the way her breath hitched when my tongue brushed against hers.
Her hips shifted slightly, and I groaned against her mouth.
Her lips curved. “Already?” she whispered, teasing.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” I growled, sliding my hands under her skirt again. “I’m obsessed with you.”
“I noticed,” she whispered, her fingers brushing down my chest.
Her brow lifted slightly as she glanced at the desk, then back at me. “Did you—wait—are my panties with you?”
I grinned like the cocky bastard she knew I was and pulled them from my pocket. Black lace. Damp. Still warm. “Really?”
She let out a scandalized laugh and smacked my shoulder. “You took it?”
“Of course I did. What kind of creep do you take me for?”
“The best kind,” she whispered, leaning in and kissing my jaw.
Then, without warning, she slid off my lap, dropped to her knees between my legs, and began undoing my belt again.
“Ariana—shit,” I hissed, watching her with wide eyes.
“You’re the one who said you’re going away for the weekend,” she said, voice low, eyes burning. “I need something to hold me over.”
My cock sprang free, and before I could say anything, she straddled me again, lifting her skirt with one hand as she guided herself over me with the other.
“Shit—” I gasped as she sank down on me, hot and tight and wet like she was made to take me.
“Desperate for me?” I teased through clenched teeth, even as my hips jerked up, filling her deeper.
She moaned, head thrown back, riding me slowly. “Shut up, Hardin.”
I growled, my hands gripping her hips as she began to move, circling and grinding like she knew exactly how to break me.
“Fuck, Ariana,” I groaned, thrusting up to meet her every move, her name slipping from my lips like a prayer.
She bent forward, licking the shell of my ear, her moan hot and breathy. “More. Don’t stop.”
Her nails dug into my shoulders, her walls tightening around me, and I knew I wasn’t going to last.
Her rhythm faltered just slightly as she got close, her thighs trembling around me, moans escaping her lips in broken gasps.
“Come with me,” I breathed against her lips. “I want to feel you fall apart again.”
And she did—trembling around me, crying out my name as she clenched and pulsed around my cock.
I lost it.
I buried myself deep inside her and came with a groan so loud I was pretty sure it echoed down the hall. My whole body jerked, locking against hers as I emptied everything into her.
She collapsed against my chest, breathing hard, lips still brushing my neck.
“I swear to God,” I panted, stroking her back, “if we keep this up, I’m never getting on that flight tomorrow.”
She laughed softly, licking my earlobe again just to torture me. “Then don’t.”
“Temptress,” I muttered, nipping her shoulder.
We stayed like that for a while. Sticky. Breathless. Entangled.
Eventually, we dragged ourselves to our feet, exchanging lazy kisses as we dressed. She fixed her blouse, I tucked my shirt in, and we tried—poorly—not to keep touching each other every few seconds.
We made it to the elevator like two teenagers who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. Her hand kept brushing mine. My lips kept finding the soft spot behind her ear. We laughed like idiots. Like everything was okay.
But even through the haze of sex and love and warmth… I felt it.
The tension in her spine.
The way her eyes darted away when I looked too long.
Something was still there.
By the time we stepped outside into the night air, it hit me again. The shift. The thing she hadn’t said yet.
“I’m dropping you,” I said, pulling her closer as I led her to my car. “It’s too late for you to drive.”
She smiled at me, that seductive curve returning to her lips as she leaned in and slid her palm over the front of my pants again.
“Or… you could take me to your penthouse,” she whispered, her lips brushing mine. “Or maybe I take you to mine.”
I almost groaned. Almost said yes.
But then her fingers curled tighter around my cock.
And something in me snapped.
I caught her wrist mid-stroke and held it still, my other hand cupping her cheek. I leaned in until we were nose to nose.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” I said, voice low but firm. “Now.”
Her smile faltered.
Her breath caught.
And for a second—just one—her eyes gave everything away.
Pain. Fear. Hesitation. Secrets.
I saw it all.
“Ariana…”
The wind rustled her hair as she looked away, her lashes fluttering, her lips parting like she was about to speak.
And then she looked back at me.
Something had changed.
“Hardin,” she whispered.
Her hands trembled.
And I knew—
Whatever this was, whatever she’d been hiding…
It had just come crashing to the surface.
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