Covertly Strong (The Strong Series Book 1) (23 page)

HIS HIP RESTS AGAINST THE kitchen counter; the back of his head colliding against the cabinet door with a thud. His eyes close tightly in response, but not from the discomfort of his harsh movements. It’s in response to the painful way his day ended with Sloan. He pushed her too far, desperately begged her to open up to him, and she just clammed up. Her ironclad walls that he had worked so hard to knock down were quickly put back in place. Self-preservation cloaked her tear-stained eyes.

Where do I go from here?

She walked away from him without a single glance, without a single word. She said nothing, did nothing,
showed
nothing. She just left. Simple as that. Left him sitting in the car, shocked to his very core and scared that he had just lost his chance—his only opportunity to turn back time.

Lost
her.

He
can’t
let things end like this. He convinces himself that he needs to give her some space, let her work through things before barreling his way back into her life. He doesn’t want to be in her life as some guy she met at a dinner one night. He wants to be in her life as
her Nix
—the guy she once loved so many years ago.

He reaches down and grabs his cock just to check if it’s still there, to make sure that he’s still a god damn man. A few days back in his life, and this woman—
his woman
—is already testing his sanity and making him feel like the world’s biggest pansy ass.
I guess this is what happens when love takes control
, he thinks to himself.
Love, that motherfucker, has careened into my life, flipped everything upside down, and turned me into a bleeding sap.

He sighs heavily into the silent apartment, frustrated beyond belief.

Fuck it! I know I’m a sap, a pussy, a pansy, but I don’t care. I fucking love her.

He won’t let this go. Her go. The fact that he can’t get her out of his head is the unwavering proof that he shouldn’t give up. She is in his brain—commandeering every thought—because she needs to be there. She belongs there.

The crushing pain in his chest is the only thing reminding him that he’s still awake—still living in this nightmare. He’s emotionally exhausted from the excruciating tug-of-war that has been the recent exchanges between him and Sloan.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The door of his apartment building shakes and creaks from harsh knocks.

His eyes open in shock, curiously staring at the door, wondering who in the hell is standing on the other side. His strides are quick, irritation motivating his movements. His fist clamps around the knob, yanking the door open. His jaw drops to staggering depths as he stands in his doorway, unsure of what to say or do.

She’s here. Sloan—
his Sloan
—is standing before him.

He feels like he’s completely detached from his body—merely hovering above himself, watching the events play out—as his eyes take in her disheveled, wet appearance.

Slick raindrops slide down her skin. Her body trembles and shakes. Her clothes are soaked. Her dark hair is matted against the sides of her face, the ends of the long strands curling softly at the ends. Her gaze is staring at her shoes, not meeting his.

And then…she looks up, her chest heaving frantically up and down.

Suddenly, he’s being pulled back inside himself.

His world is in full view once again. All of his senses are sharp, strong, and present. Sights, sounds, smells hit him at once, and it’s a jolting feeling. His nostrils are assaulted by the smell of
her
—rain and Sloan and sweat and a hint of her flowery perfume.

She’s here.
She’s standing in front of him and he doesn’t have the slightest idea of what’s about to occur. He can’t differentiate her emotions. Her intense, powerful gaze has thrown off his equilibrium. Her eyes are soaked with tension, passion, and a feisty edge that only she could make look good.

Their eyes are locked in an erotic dance.

She blinks. He blinks. She blinks. He blinks.

They are solely fighting with their bodies. Every heavy breath she takes he feels inside his own lungs. The racing of her pulse visible on the side of her neck mimics the jabbing, aching, sharp sensations piercing his heart.

“Nix,” she whispers like a prayer. They’re the first words she’s spoken since she got in his car before they drove back from Solana.

Her voice wraps around him like a blanket, caressing his soul.

“Are you okay?” he asks. He has no idea how to tread this situation.

Her lungs inhale a harsh gasp. “No,” she spits out, enraged. “I’m not okay. I’m not fucking okay. I haven’t been okay for a very long time.”

He blinks in confusion. Three blinks—that is the only response his body gives her, fueling the fire behind her eyes. Each blink might as well have been the swift swipe of a match on the striker of a matchbook. The tip of the match sizzles and hisses as the flame ignites the inferno that’s been buried inside her for far too long.

“Why? WHY?” she questions with an unforgiving tone.

His face pulls into an expression of utter misunderstanding. “Why?” he says, mirroring her words. His tone is just as harsh, just as piercing.

“You gave up on us. You fucking gave up on us!” she screams through the tears that have taken up residence in her throat.

His breath is pushed out of his lungs in a loud whoosh at her words. His eyes blare with fury. “I did NOT give up. I never gave up, and I’m still
not
giving up. You were mine.
You. Are. Still. Mine,
” he demands with a growl as his hands reach out, gripping her hips, pulling her body into his.

He backs them past his doorway and into his apartment, his foot kicking the door shut.

Their faces are mere centimeters apart. His hand moves up to her face, pushing the wet strands away from her eyes. His fingers grip her hair and then without hesitation, Nix crushes his mouth to hers. His lips are unrelenting, attacking hers with ferociousness.

She gasps and pulls away from him.

Her fingers reach up to her lips, brushing against them in shock. Anger consumes her. She’s angry that she’s here, doing this, right now. Pissed at herself for giving in to these crazy, overwhelming emotions that all revolve around him. But mostly, she’s just furious at him.

The feisty, fiery Sloan takes over and finally starts calling the shots. Her right hand comes up swiftly and slaps across his cheek.
Smack.
Her shocking behavior echoes loudly against the walls of his apartment.

“What the fuck?” he questions. His fingers touch the spot where a faint red handprint starts to reveal itself. “What was that for?”

“
Everything
. That was for everything! You did give up on us. I waited for you, Nix. I fucking waited for you! But you stopped writing, you stopped calling, you stopped everything. You
destroyed
me,” she cries—a heart-wrenching sound escaping her lungs.

His body leans into hers, pushing her back up against his apartment door, and dominating her personal space. “No!
You. Gave. Up!
You stopped writing, you stopped calling. You promised we would be together once we were both eighteen—that we would find each other again—but you broke that promise. You broke that promise when, one day, you just decided to walk away from us. Yeah, we were young, naïve even. But what we had was
real.
You made me feel alive. You made everything right. And you took it all away, Sloan!”

Her name leaves his lips and resonates in the stillness of his apartment. The sound of Nix saying her
real
name out loud feels like a barbed-wire fence has been removed from her chest.

“Why did you take it all away?” he whispers into the silent room.

The only sound filling the space is their erratic breathing.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
Their lungs fight against each other.

Emotion-filled tears begin a slow descent down her soft cheeks. “I didn’t, Nix. I tried. I really tried. You have no idea how many letters I wrote you. For six months, I kept writing you, kept trying to call you, but you never responded.” She pauses as her chest inhales a shaky breath—filling her lungs with much-needed oxygen. “The phone numbers I had for you were always disconnected. It’s like you just disappeared,” she gasps through her trembling lips.

He presses his forehead against hers, keeping their lips as close as physically possible without actually touching. “I tried too, Meli. I swear I didn’t give up. I lost count of how many letters I wrote you. It took me years to move on from us.
Years
. And even after all that time, I never really gave up. I just forced myself to move on because I thought that was what you wanted.”

For the first time in his adult life, tears fill his eyes. The visual of her—heartbroken and crying—is the most painful thing he’s ever witnessed.

She tightly closes her eyes, pushing more tears out past her reddened lids. “I’m so confused,” she states. “I don’t understand, Nix. Nothing is making sense anymore.”

His large hands frame her face. “I’ve been in perpetual night since you walked out of my life. Maybe I didn’t really realize it, but once I saw you again, I knew. I knew in an instant that you belong with me…
always
. When you left, the best part of me left with you.”

Quiet consumes the room as Nix stares down at her, his eyes piercing hers with an all-consuming passion. Her dark irises speak a thousand words.

He keeps her there, his hands holding her face, his body pressed into hers. He holds her there and waits. Waits for her to say something.
Anything.

Her chocolate gaze pulls away from his ocean-blue orbs, glancing down at the ground for an endless moment until she finally stares up at him again. “Despite the distance—the time that passed—my heart was always loyal to you,” Sloan proclaims. “You’re the only one who’s ever had it and the only one who ever will.”

Her words push his heart right out of his chest and straight into the palm of her hand.

She owns him. In this moment—with those words—she owns his mind, body, and soul.

He tenderly rubs his nose against hers in response, his eyes closing involuntarily from the powerful meaning of her words. “You were my favorite hello and my hardest goodbye. You are it for me, Meli. I’ve never stopped waiting. Yeah, I tried to move on—tried to forget about you—but I couldn’t. I still won’t. I refuse to let you go this time.”

God, I need her. I fucking need her more than I’ve needed anyone or anything in my entire existence.

His impulses tell him to act. Conquer. Claim her. And he does. He kisses her—not a soft peck or a gentle brush of his lips. He
crushes
his mouth to hers, stealing her breath and making her heart race at an erratic pace against his chest.

She moans against his lips and molds her body against his in response.

He kisses her because he’s furious that they could have been together all of this time if distance and unknown circumstances wouldn’t have pulled them apart. He kisses her for all of the times he should have been kissing her. And more importantly, he kisses her because there isn’t anyone else he wants to kiss for the rest of his life. He pours everything he has—everything he is—into this kiss.

He is overwhelmed with desire, with want, with absolute need for her in all ways. Nix craves her like an addict craves a drug. She is his addiction, and there will never be day that he doesn’t yearn for her.

“I need you. I need you, Nix,” she moans against his mouth.

His hands are everywhere, all over her body. Gripping her hips, grabbing her breasts, brushing his thumbs against her hardened nipples. He doesn’t know what part of her he wants to touch the most.

Sloan grinds into him, spurring a low growl to release from his lips.

His hands grip her ass, lifting her up, and her legs automatically wrap around his waist. The combination of her damp clothing sticking to his skin and the warmth of her body turns him inside out, leaving him frantic and aching to be inside of her—to claim her.

His long legs stride quickly to his bedroom as their mouths are still locked in a sensual dance. They are lips and tongues and teeth and two bodies desperate to connect as one.

He lays her down on the soft mattress, her body splayed out for his anxious perusal. She’s never looked more beautiful than she does in this moment—her body trembling, her voice hoarse and raspy with desire. Her eyes glows with a lust-induced haze as his ocean blues stare down at her.

“I love you, Nix,” she rasps out as his body hovers over hers.

A smile crests his mouth and he voices the four words he’s been dying to say. “I love you too, Sloan.”

She smiles and giggles, and it’s the first time since seeing her again that he can’t see the sadness behind her eyes. “Put your money where your mouth is, Lieutenant, and prove it. Scream it. Tell the fucking world,” she challenges as her heels push against his ass, urging his body closer to hers. She’s secretly sassing him like she used to.

And god, does he fucking love it.

His arousal presses into that oh-so-perfect spot, releasing another delicious moan from her perfect little mouth. He leans in, his warm breath stroking her cheek. His lips brush her ear as he whispers, “I love you, Sloan. I love you with every ounce of my soul.”