Hannah crested, lungs seizing, muscles locking tight as the orgasm took control, keeping her body prisoner while it wreaked havoc, clenching her sex around Fox and taking him past the breaking point, too. They ground out the pleasure, hips pushing down and pressing up, fingers digging into skin, teeth scraping flesh, loud groans rending the air of the glowing pink bedroom, his moisture streaking down her inner thighs, his dirty speech echoing in her head, prolonging the pleasure.
Inside this tight thing without a rubber . . .
Watching you ride dick . . .
Fox went flat on his back, taking Hannah with him, both of them spent but remaining locked together, her head resting on his shoulder. Their harsh inhales and exhales filled the room, his fingertips stroking up and down her back through the cooling sweat, mouth moving in her hair. A priceless embrace that was everything right in the world. Everything honest and perfect. And . . .
She wasn’t giving this up.
God help her, she’d ridden the tide of more emotions tonight than she’d ever experienced in her life. Hopefulness, denial, devastation, anger. When he’d walked into Cross and Daughters obviously determined to break up with her, she’d lost her courage. Her resolve. The heartache had been so immense, there’d been no room for positivity. There was only survival. But before he’d returned from the ocean, she’d decided to fight, hadn’t she? And now here she was, at the final round, weaving on her feet, closing in on unconsciousness, ready to quit just to mitigate the pain. Isn’t this when she needed to be at her strongest?
Isn’t this when being a leading lady really counted? When she wanted to quit?
And after what she’d accomplished over the last two weeks, she didn’t have any excuses. She could do anything. She could be brave. Lying in the fetal position with a pint of ice cream wasn’t going to salvage a relationship she knew damn well could be amazing and lasting. Fox needed her to believe in him right now, when his self-doubt was blinding him—and she needed to believe in herself, too.
Hannah kissed Fox’s shoulder and rolled to the side, climbing off the bed.
Outwardly, she appeared calm, but on the inside her pulse was going a thousand miles an hour, a trench digging itself in her stomach. Fox sat up and watched her through bloodshot eyes as she dressed in jeans and her Johnny Cash T-shirt, eventually dropping his head into his hands, fingers tearing at his hair.
She zipped her suitcase again and stood in front of him, working to keep her voice even, though the effort didn’t quite pay off. “I’m not giving up on us.”
His head came up fast, eyes searching her face. With what? Hope? Shock?
“Yeah, um”—she swallowed, gathered her courage—“I’m not. Giving up on you. On us. You’re just going to have to deal with it, all right?”
He was a man afraid to swim toward a life raft. She could see it.
“What happened since you left me?” she whispered, fighting the urge to stroke his face. His beautiful face that looked torn and haggard for once.
Fox pressed his lips together, looked away. Spoke in a raw voice. “It didn’t matter. It was never going to matter how qualified I am for the captain’s chair. How well I can manage the boat under pressure. No matter what I do, I’ll just be someone they mock and doubt and criticize. Someone they can’t respect or take seriously. A hall pass. The backdoor guy. And that will extend to you, Hannah. Your waters are clear and I’ll muddy them.” He massaged the center of his forehead. “You should have heard how horrified they were. Over us. I knew it would happen eventually, but goddamn, it was worse.”
With every fiber of her being, she wanted to cradle his head to her breast and be gentle. Be supportive. If he’d been pushed into breaking up with her, whatever his crewmates said must have been bad. Really bad. But he didn’t need sweet and cautious encouragement right now.
He needed a good, hard wake-up call.
“Fox, listen to me. I don’t care how many different beds you’ve been in. I know you belong in mine. And I belong in yours, and that’s what matters. You’re taking something that happened in college out on us. You’re taking the stupidity and shortsightedness of others out on us. The hurt they caused you . . . it’s valid. It’s meaningful. But you can’t take the bad lessons you learned and apply them to every good thing that comes your way. Because there’s nothing bad about what we have. It’s really, really good.” Her voice grew choppy. “You’re wonderful, and I love you. Okay, you stupid idiot? So when you’ve done some thinking and pulled your head out of your stubborn ass, come and find me. You’re worth the wait.”