Part 5

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"Hannah, we should go inside. You need to rest," I told her. Staring in the dark with empty eyes, she tried to get up, but was too weak. Tom helped me to lift her up and support her inside. As usual, the bed in the spare room downstairs was already made, so we put Hannah straight in. Tom left the bedroom while I stayed until Hannah was asleep, which didn't take long.

Feeling exhausted, but so thankful that Tom had been there, I left the guest room, leaving the door open, just in case. It didn't matter anymore why Tom had been there or what he had said earlier. He had saved my best friend and for that, I would be grateful to him for ever.

"Thank you," I whispered, when I was finally standing in front of him. I hadn't noticed before that he was bleeding from his ear. I hadn't had the time to even consider that there might have been a fight going on before Tom landed that punch. "You're bleeding. Let me get the first aid kit." Tom was sitting on the lounge, looking at me with big eyes. His usually neat clothes were covered in dirt and his pants ripped at the knee.

When I returned with the first aid kit, I told Tom, "The paramedics shouldn't have left without checking you."
"I'm fine," Tom allayed my doubts. "I'm just glad you're okay. What were you going to do with that spade and scissors?"

We both didn't say anything for a moment but then I couldn't hold his gaze any longer and burst out in laughter. Not because I thought it was funny, but rather because of the seriousness of the situation. I had never been good at dealing with stress. Not long after, Tom joined in, before turning serious and reminding me about the dangers of the situation, and that I should have called for help instead of trying to handle it myself.

Tom didn't move when I touched him to clean his wound. Only the deep inhalations to keep the stinging pain at ease gave away that he was not quite as tough as he pretended to be. So close to him, I studied his every pore and wrinkle. He was so perfect. When I finished cleaning the wound and put a Band-Aid on, Tom took my hand. He slowly led it to his mouth and gave it a sweet, tingly kiss.

"I'm very sorry for hurting your feelings," he whispered in my ear, moving his arms around me. It was a beautiful warm and secure feeling in his arms. I longed to kiss him, but my conscience warned me. Nothing had changed. Could I deal with a one-week-stand? I seriously doubted I was strong enough, but at that very moment, Tom was the only strength I had.

Tom leaned down, and when his lips touched my neck, I let it happen. His small kisses soon got deeper. I was seeking his mouth, wanting to return the kisses, but Tom was so absorbed that I struggled to break free. Gently, he pulled me down onto the couch. I closed my eyes, soaking in his every smell, his every move and taste. I was completely lost in him, pulled his hair in lust. Tom lifted me up once more, hastily, and carried me through the living room into my bedroom, where he lowered me onto the bed, his eyes wild with hunger. In a fast move Tom pulled his white t-shirt over his head. I lifted myself up, unable to resist the urge to run my hands over the strong, clearly defined muscles on his tummy and arm, then followed the trail with kisses. While kissing his beautiful body, I opened the button on his jeans, while his hands and lips were in my hair. He wore similar trunks to last time. They made him look even more irresistible. Tom pushed me back, and I heard his shoes fall to the ground. He then striped off his pants before moving on to mine.

"You are so beautiful. I have to have you again. Say that you want me." My senses were so overloaded; I couldn't get a word out. I looked at him, shaking, trying to nod. "You drive me wild. I need to hear you say it. Say it. Do you want me?" He held my head between his hands, moving it towards his face.

"I want you, I need you. Now," I breathed against his naked skin. The words had gotten just passed the blockage in my throat. With that, I heard a wrapper rip open.

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