Hard to Resist (32 page)

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Authors: Shanora Williams

BOOK: Hard to Resist
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A gasp escapes my lips from both pleasure and pain. But that pain boils into nothing but pleasure as he slides in and out with swift strokes. They’re even, defined, and every single one of them is giving me a dose of his love. His lips press against mine sweetly and my lips part, allowing him to taste me.

He plunges into my deeper, harder all while kissing the crook of my neck and growling against it. “I love you, Natalie,” he says against my ear. He lifts me up and pulls my legs around him to remain chest to chest while sitting upward but now it’s my turn to return the love. I move forward, backwards, slowly all with my legs strapped around him and his hand grabbing hold of my ass. I want to cherish this. I want to cherish all of him.

We’re heart to heart, chest to chest to chest, nose to nose. My head falls back as he drags his lips from my jawline to my collarbone. I then smash lips with him, pecking them lightly and delicately as my hips continue to grind. As he grunts, he whispers my name with a few mild curse words.

“I love you, Nolan,” I breathe. He grunts and I moan heavily before we both reach our climax. Bursting with ecstasy, I quiver before wrapping my arms around his shoulders and hugging him. I inhale, taking in the pleasure of his sweet sweat and his masculine scent.

“You’re my baby. My Bunny. Distance will never change that,” he murmurs against my ear.

Tears fall, but I smile because I know that he means it.

 

Chapter Thirty-Three

 

My eyelids flip open quickly. I reach for my phone to check the time and it is now 9:26 A.M. Snatching my blankets off of me, I clamber out of the bed. “Oh, no,” I mumble to myself while searching through my dressers. I’m late. I scramble through my drawers until I pull out a pair of blue jean shorts, a brown camisole, and a bra. I rush to the bathroom while struggling to pull my shorts over my hips. After yanking my shirt over my shoulders, I reach for my toothbrush and give them a quick brush. With my toothbrush hanging out of my mouth, I hook my bra then reach for my shirt to pull it over my head. I rinse my mouth then dash out of the room to slide my feet into my brown Toms.

Clutching my keys, I rush out of my room and head for the door.

“Nat!” I spin around only to spot Harper stepping out of her room with a silky pink robe on and mangled locks. She has the sleepy eyes that are letting me know that she’s had a long night. “Where are you going?”

“I have to get to Nolan.”

“Nolan?” Her face pulls together. “You were just with him. What’s wrong?”

“He’s leaving today, Harper. I have to go.”

Her eyes widen but I don’t allow her enough time to ask any questions because I am out of the door and clambering down the stairs in a heartbeat.

****

Twenty minutes later and I’m at the airport. Bustling through the busy streets, I don’t stop until I am at the glass doors. I’m moving so fast that I almost got ran over—twice. As soon as I swing the doors open, there is a line of people waiting to walk through the security monitor. I groan as I stand on my toes to see if the line is moving quickly but it’s just my luck that it isn’t. I spot an opening to my left where a few security guards are passing by to get to the other side. That’s when my body goes into play. Without thinking, I dash towards the gap and rush through.

“Hey!” one of the security guards call. I ignore him. “Hey!” he calls again. I can hear his footsteps but I decide to walk faster. I spot a crowd of people ahead and rush for them. Sliding my way between, I let my hair down and it falls into curls against my shoulders. Hopefully he won’t notice me with my hair down. I’ll be harder to find without a bun.

I crash into a few people just to make my way through but I don’t stop. I’ll fight if I have to if it means that I’ll make it in time to see him. I promised him last night that I would meet him here before his flight. Arriving here a few minutes before his departure isn’t enough. I should have set a damn alarm like he said.

The crowd finally begins to die down but then I am greeted with a fork of three hallways. I groan as I clutch my keys in hand. I spot a young woman behind the counter and rush for it.

“Can I help you?” she asks.

“Yes. I’m looking for a departure to San Francisco, California at ten.”

“You’re looking to catch a flight?” she asks, her eyes broadening and pretty much saying that I’m an idiot. “Sweetie, sorry to tell you but there’s no way in hell that you can catch a flight within ten minutes. This is an airport. These places are constantly booked.”

“No—I’m looking for the flight that leaves at ten!”

“Oh!” She nods as she clicks the mouse belonging to her computer. “Let’s see here,” she says while tapping away at her keyboard.

A groan rumbles at the heart of my throat. I don’t have time for this. I push away from the counter and cross my fingers while speeding down the middle hallway. My only hope is that he’s down here because if he isn’t, I’m screwed and I won’t see him again for another few months. I can’t deal with that. It won’t last.

As soon as I hit the end of the hall, I scan the area. I spot a few people sitting on benches and a few people waiting in line at the airport Starbucks. My heart pounds against my chest but once I spot the cropped dark hair, the worried grey eyes that are scanning the area just as much as I am, and the bags in his hand while he waits in line, my heart beats rapidly.

“Nolan!” I wail as he takes a step forward. He’s next in line. One more step and he would have been on that plane. His head whips in my direction and his eyes land on mine as he smiles. He rushes out of the line while passing through the crowd of seated people.

Then, dead in the center, our bodies crash, collide and our lips don’t dare to be anywhere else but against one another’s. My fingers braid through his hair as he picks me up in his arms and squeezes me. He finally drops me but he doesn’t bother to remove his lips from mine. His gentle hands cup my face and a tear streams down my cheek. He pulls back to study my face and take me in for what will be the last time for a very long time.

“I got worried,” he says.

“I wouldn’t have missed this moment, Nolan. I love you.”

His lips spread and reveal a row of beautiful, white teeth. He kisses me again while cradling my face in his hands. And as I kiss him back, I can feel it. I can feel everything. The love, the power, the passion. It’s all there. Nolan and I have been through battle grounds during this love game. But it’s no longer a game to us. It’s real. It’s here. And it’s speaking to us more clearly than ever.

I was always told that love comes during the right time. At times, I didn’t believe in love and at times, I swore I would never fall again. But he’s changed my mind. He’s changed my opinion of love. At one moment, I seriously hated it. I hated everything about it. But now, I can say it. Now I can admit that love is just what it is.
Love
. And without it, there is no point in living, in breathing. We are all destined to be with someone. We are all supposed to meet that one person that will change everything. Whether you are put through heartache, pain, or even grief, it will come.

I fell, but was picked up in his arms. I was blessed with his love, with his heart. And I swear to never drop it. I swear to never lose it in all of this madness. Our love will blossom and grow. With time, we’ll be more than one.

Just when I thought that he would be completely hard to keep a hold of—just when I thought that he would shatter me even more than my past had—he’s actually made me better.

This love was hard to control.

This love was hard to keep hidden.

This love was hard to go through with.

But this love was going to happen one way or another because it was completely and utterly
hard to resist
.

Epilogue

 

One Month Later…

 

 

Every day, he tells me that he loves me. And, quite honestly, I believe him. I have no problem saying it back. I’ve progressed so much and I’m proud of myself for how far I’ve come. Heartbreak . . . it’s just a word now. A word that I could care less about. Nolan says that his mother is doing well and we’re planning on seeing one another soon but I hate to wait. I miss him like hell.

I’ve been sitting on these words for weeks and I finally know how to put it down in ink. I finally know how to make it sound right. Tucking my legs beneath the coffee table, I press the tip of my pen against my sheet of paper. This time, Adele and Lucy Rose are flooding through my speakers. They’re a huge inspiration for a time like this.

 

Who would have known that the urge to resist is something much more defiant than it seems? It’s like an addiction to a drug that you just can’t kick. You want to get rid of it, make it go away. You want it to leave from your life, but the resistance will only last for so long. Unless you trap yourself in a white room that you know you can’t escape from, then there is no way of getting out of it, especially when you’re in too deep.

When you’re in so deep that you can’t breathe, can’t speak, can’t move without feeling like you may screw things up, you know there’s no escaping it. When you were once lost, but that addiction found you. You thought that the word “happiness” was pointless and that your heart would remain shattered in pieces, but that addiction came around and put the pieces back together, day-by-day. When that addiction looks you in the eye and gives you their word, how can you resist? How can you just let it go? Perhaps that resistance turned into abundance and you needed it every day. Maybe the void started to die down, started to loosen and transformed into need—into desire and a fulfilling, enigmatic passion.

You can’t fight the feeling. You can’t replace it because trying to hold off and trying to kick it to the curb will only cause you to regret it. And you know you will because that resistance is what had willingly put you back together and took you in, regardless of the way that you were, in the first place.

 

Studying my words again, I smile. Not only because I’ve come a long way, but because it feels amazing to let it all out. It may not be a poem but it truly expresses how I feel and what Nolan and I have been through. It feels amazing to breathe now that my chest no longer hurts from the pressure of a broken heart. I can finally inhale and exhale without choking. He’s provided that feeling for me.

But I’m doing just what he told me to do. Writing. And I will continue to express myself until we’re heart to heart again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

To keep updated with Shanora and her future books, find her on Facebook:

 

http://www.facebook.com/ShanoraWilliamsAuthor

 

Or on her blog:

 

http://shanorawilliams.blogspot.com/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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