After We Collided (After, #2) by Anna Todd Read Online (FREE)
“Oh, lighten up, Hardin, you know I wouldn’t do that.”
I wrap my arms around his neck. The nostalgic feeling that washes over me at being in his arms almost takes my breath away.
“You’re drunk, Tessa,” he says and tries to remove my arms from around him.
“So . . . I want you,” I say, surprising both of us.
I decide to shut my thoughts off, the logical ones, anyway, and grab two fistfuls of his hair. Oh, how I’ve missed the way it feels between my fingers.
“Tessa . . . You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re wasted,” he says.
But there’s no conviction behind his voice.
“Hardin . . . stop overthinking this. Don’t you miss me?” I say against his neck, sucking lightly. My hormones have completely taken over, and I don’t know that I’ve ever wanted him so badly.
“Yesss . . .” he hisses as I suck harder, sure to leave a mark. “I can’t, Tess . . . please.”
But I refuse to stop and instead rock my hips on his lap, making him groan.
“No . . .” he whispers and grips his large hands on my hips, stopping my movements.
I snap and glare at him. “You have two options here: you fuck me or you leave. You decide.”
What the hell did I just say?
“You’ll hate me tomorrow if I do this while you’re in this . . . state,” he says and looks into my eyes.
“I already hate you,” I say, and he flinches from my words. “Sort of,” I add more softly than I mean to.
He loosens his grip on my hips, allowing me to move. “Can we at least talk about this all first?”
“No, stop being such a Debbie Downer.” I groan and rub myself against his leg.
“We can’t do this . . . not like this.”
Since when does he have morals? “I know you want to, Hardin, I can feel how hard you are for me,” I say in his ear.
I can’t believe the dirty words falling from my drunken lips, but Hardin’s mouth is a deep pink, and his eyes are wide, almost black.
“Come on, Hardin, don’t you want to bend me over this desk? Or the bed? The sink? So many possibilities . . .” I whisper up close and gently bite his earlobe.
“Fuck . . . Okay. Fuck it,” he says and wraps his hands in my hair, pulling my mouth to his.
The moment Hardin’s lips touch mine, my body ignites. I moan into his mouth and am rewarded with an equally feverish sound from Hardin. My fingers thread through his hair and tug harder, not able to control myself or my need for him. I know he’s holding back and it’s driving me crazy. My hands move from his hair down to the hem of his black T-shirt, gripping the fabric and pulling it up and over his head. The second the kiss breaks, Hardin leans back slightly.
“Tessa . . .” he pleads.
“Hardin,” I counter and run my fingertips over his ink. I’ve missed the way his hard muscles strain against his skin, the way the intricate black ink swirls and decorates his perfect body.