Page 69 of Rock On

His lips found mine tentatively, and despite the fire he lit deep inside of me, I was content to revel in his touch. His lips were soft but firm, a gentle whisper against my mouth. We’d kissed a million times before, yet this felt new. The caution in his touch coupled with the warmth of his body sent shivers down my spine.

He toyed with me, his lips exploring like it was the first time all over again, in no rush to deepen the kiss or take it any further. My lips parted of their own accord, anxious to feel more of him but also determined to enjoy every second of this.

“Don’t rush me, baby,” he whispered. “I want to savor this. It’s the first time all over again.”

“We weren’t patient the first time,” I said with a soft smile.

“No, but we need to be this time. It’s too important.” He brushed my hair out of my face, gazing down at me like I was the only woman in the world. He’d always looked at me like that, and it was one of many reasons I could never love anyone else. There were so many things we still needed to talk about, but right now none of it seemed to matter.

“Tommy…” My voice might have had a touch of whine in it, because I needed him to keep kissing me. Touching me. Looking at me like I was his everything.

“I’m here.” He put his hands on either side of my face, continuing to gaze down at me until his eyes fluttered closed.

Then he kissed me like it was the first, last, and next time—all rolled into one.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Tommy

Leaving Harley at her door last night, without going in or inviting her back to my room had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done. But I’d been serious when I told her things were too important to rush this time around. I didn’t know what we were doing or where we were going with this, but I couldn’t take a potential second chance lightly. If there was a chance, I was going to be the man I hadn’t been the first time.

I’d be a man she trusted enough to confide her fears, insecurities, and even her failures.

It had hurt me down to my core to hear her admit the things she’d let other men do in the hopes of finding the same pleasure she got from me. The alpha male deep inside of me loved hearing it, but the man who adored her more than his own life had been gutted.

Just the thought of someone else getting rough with her, choking her, hitting her, was enough to send me over the edge. I didn’t hit her, not in the traditional sense of the word, but within the parameters of our sex life. I knew what was acceptable, how much pain she could take, and what she enjoyed. I’d slipped up the night at the cemetery when I’d grabbed her wrist, but even then, it had been a different circumstance because it had been the first time I’d been alone with her since the divorce.

It wasn’t an excuse, but I truly hadn’t realized I’d grabbed her so hard when I’d stopped her from slapping me. There was no universe where I’d lay a hand on her in any other way, but those guys she’d told me about—veritable strangers—could have caused damage I didn’t want to think about.

It terrified me and made me want to protect her, take care of her.

Fight for her.

I wasn’t sure why she’d felt the need to tell me, but I was glad she had. It had clearly been weighing on her, and no matter what happened between us going forward, she needed to get past all the things that had been dragging her down. If we didn’t work out, even though I couldn’t fathom not being with her, I truly wanted her to be happy. In love. Married. It gave me no pleasure to think of her alone, lonely, pining for me.

She’d sacrificed everything for me once, and I wouldn’t let it happen again, no matter how much it might hurt.

Fuck that noise.

As Quinn often reminded me, life was short.

But I wasn’t giving up without a fight.

Which was why I hadn’t let last night go any further than kissing and holding her.

Tonight, I planned to take her on a date.

Well, as much of a date as we could have without leaving the premises.

We were allowed to leave, but I was easily recognized in Santa Barbara, and the last thing we needed at this early stage of things was media attention. Everyone at Harmony Place, from staff to guests to visitors, had to sign strict non-disclosure agreements. The fine for breaking it was in the hundreds of thousands of dollars. That was how seriously they took our privacy, and I was glad for it.

I knocked on Harley’s door at six, and leaned against the door frame when she opened it. She wore a long, ruffled peasant skirt, with a black top and her hair up in a messy bun. Her makeup was light, but I thought she was beautiful no matter what, and I leaned over to gently press my lips against hers.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” She smiled back.

“Ready?”

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