I reach forward and kiss her tummy, and she stirs immediately. I feel her hand rest on the back of my head and stroke sleepily, and I smile against her skin. She probably has no idea what she’s doing right now, which makes her gesture even more touching.
I wait for her feeling fingers to stop before I break away, happy she’s fallen back into a deep sleep again. Then I gently peel myself away and throw on some sweats, leaving Hannah to her dreams. I hope they’re happy dreams. I hope I’m the starring role.
I turn at the door when I make it there, looking back at the unusual sight of a woman in my bed. Except it doesn’t feel unusual. It feels perfectly normal.
Kind of…right.
I smile to myself as I head for the kitchen to make some breakfast, checking the time as I drag the pan out. Eight o’clock. Shit, I never sleep in this late. I feel energized. Content. I look down the corridor to my bedroom as I set the pan on the stove, unable to stop my smile growing. There’s a woman in my bed, and I have absolutely no desire to remove her.
Being sure not to make too much noise, I set about preparing breakfast, my absolute favorite, whistling happily while I go. When the stove throws up a bit of smoke, I rush to open the door to get a bit of ventilation. The scattering of twigs and branches reminds me of last night’s storm, as well as the heavy damp smell of kicked-up dirt. But it doesn’t overpower the smell of Hannah that’s lingering on my skin. I lift my arm to my nose and inhale. I never want to shower again.
Leaving the door wide open, I head back to the kitchen and pull down two plates before collecting the pan.
“Morning.”
I look up and find Hannah across the room, her eyes sleepy but bright, her body covered in one of my old lumberjack shirts. “Wow,” I breathe, unable to hold back my awe as the pan hangs in my limp hand.
She looks down her front on a demure smile. “Hope you don’t mind.” She tugs at the hem on her thigh as I rest the pan on the counter, moving in closer to conceal the twitching happening behind my sweats. It takes everything in me not to abandon breakfast, seize her, and take her straight back to bed.
“Not at all.” I realign my focus and serve up breakfast before I succumb to that temptation. “Hungry?” I head for the freezer.
“Starving.” She moves across to one of the stools on the opposite side of the counter, settling as she watches me.
I spoon out two huge dollops of my vice onto the pancakes and push her plate across to her. She looks at it with a grin but doesn’t say a word, collecting her fork and tucking in. I’m starving, too, but watching Hannah eat is unexpectedly enjoyable. I lean down and rest my forearms on the counter, getting comfortable. “Good?” I ask, despite her little moan of pleasure telling me what she thinks of my favorite breakfast. Alex’s too.
With her mouth full, Hannah nods, pointing her fork at my plate. She quickly chews and swallows. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Then eat,” she says on a little laugh, popping another helping in her mouth, watching me as she chews. I continue to observe her until her eating slows and she sets down her knife and fork. “What?” she asks, half smiling.
“How did you sleep?”
“Very well.”
I nod, knowing this already. I just wanted to hear it. “Any regrets?”
Her lips press together tightly, her gaze moving away from me. Is she thinking about it? I push my folded body upright, not liking the small pang of pain in my gut, and I wait with bated breath for her answer. When she looks back to me, I see a steely confidence in her eyes. I’m not sure I like that, either. Wasn’t last night amazing for her? Our connection was palpable.
“Hannah?” I say, my voice evidently broken.
“I don’t regret a thing,” she virtually whispers. “It was the best night I’ve ever had in my life.” Do I see tears in her eyes? “You?” she asks, and then inhales. She’s bracing herself.
Keen to put her mind at rest, I lean over the counter and take her hand in both of mine. “Last night was the best thing that’s happened to me since Alex came into my life.” Bringing her hand to my mouth, I kiss her knuckles, and she deflates. Last night was earth moving, and I suspect it might be life changing for me, too. I want to see her again. But I already knew that before I took her to bed. Before I kissed her. Before I made love to her. Not once in my thirty-nine years have I ever thought that about a woman. There was always something missing. There were no game changers. No…eruptions in my chest. I inwardly smile. I want more of this feeling of sweet contentment.
Dropping Hannah’s hand, I round the counter, and she turns on her stool to face me. I put myself between her thighs and take her arms, directing them around my waist. She looks up at me as I slide my fingers into her hair, bringing my nose down to hers.
“Stake your claim,” I whisper. Her smile blinds me, and she uses the footrest to launch herself up my body, wrapping all her limbs around me and slamming her mouth against mine. Stake her claim she does, kissing me with a hardness and passion that I’ve never experienced before. I shift us so my arse rests against the counter, steadying me, as Hannah eats me alive and I try to keep up.
“That’ll fucking do,” I mumble, holding her close, and she giggles, the sound so damn sweet. I’m forced to take her hair and gently pull to get her attention. Withdrawing a little, she finds my eyes, and we spend the next few minutes just looking at each other, her hands slowly moving across my bare shoulders, mine through her hair.
This exquisite, sweet woman in my arms, no matter how happy she looks in this moment, is carrying pain. I saw it last night. Heard it in her words. She’s been hurt. I hope she lets me ease that pain. Maybe I already am.
“I think nearly killing you could turn out to be one of the best things that ever happened to me.” Fucking hell, what has she done to me? A few encounters and one night with this woman have derailed everything. And I couldn’t care less, because here now, with her in my arms and a million memories from last night, I’ve never felt so sure about anything in my life. I have to see how this grows.
She nibbles on the end of my nose. “It’s definitely the best thing that’s happened to me.”
I’m glad we’re clear. “Your ice cream is melting.” I tap her bottom to release her legs from around my waist, and I lower her to the stool, reaching to my neck to pry her hands away. Pulling my own plate over, I drag another stool across and sit beside her. “Eat,” I order gently, spearing a piece of pancake and swirling it through some ice cream before holding it out to her. She opens her mouth and takes it, then mimics me, feeding me some of her breakfast. And that’s how we go until both of our plates are clean.
“Your breakfast was very good,” I say as I gather the crockery and load it into the dishwasher.
“So was yours.” She slips down off the stool and wanders to the open door, looking outside. “Is there much damage?”
“Only a few fallen branches.” I pass her and take the steps down to the lawn, collecting a few and throwing them onto the woodpile. When I look up, Hannah has found her way to the outside shower and is peeking over the top. She’s on her tippy-toes. My shirt has ridden up her arse. “Oh boy,” I more or less groan, reaching for the front of my sweats to restrain my wayward dick. My eyes are glued to the cheeks of her bottom, my mind off on a tangent. She clearly wants to try the shower, and I really want to try her again.
Two birds, one stone, Ryan.
I slip my thumbs into the waistband of my sweats and push them down my legs, kicking them off. And then I’m moving toward her, eyeing that arse like it’s my prey. She stills when I reach her, lowering from her toes. The shirt drops. Her arse is gone. “Arms up,” I order, and they immediately rise. I take the hem of my shirt and pull it up and off, discarding it on the floor. She turns around before I can command it. Hooking one arm around her waist, I lift her and walk us into the shower, flicking it on as I do. The water is freezing when it hits us, and she gasps, huddling closer. “Give it a
few seconds and it’ll be hot,” I say, nudging her face from my neck. I push her back into the wooden paneling and hold her in place with my front, pushing her arms up. “Until then, I get to keep you warm.”
I take her mouth softly and decide here and now that this morning is the best wake-up I’ve ever had. She’s on a mission again, and not for the first time I question my approach. Handle with care, that’s what I thought. Still do. I instinctively want to be gentle, though it’s fucking hard when she’s attacking me with such desperation and force. I don’t know what her secrets are, and until I do, I’ll stick to the plan. Build her trust. Earn her confidence. But now, just like last night, she’s swiftly losing control, getting carried away. It’s as if she’s been given something new and exciting, and she wants to make the most of it before it’s taken from her. My thought doesn’t only hurt. It angers me, and I feel my kiss hardening to follow Hannah’s lead. I hiss when I feel her short nails sink into my shoulders. I moan when I feel her teeth sink into my lip, and while it’s all fucking amazing, I hate the potential motives behind her eagerness.
I rip my lips away, panting, and turn my face when she goes for my mouth again. It doesn’t deter her from trying to pull me back. I remain where I am, and eventually losing her patience, she grabs my jaw and pulls me to where she wants me, holding me there as she tries to kiss me again. I withdraw, and Hannah frowns. “What’s wrong?” she asks quietly, her worry clear.
“I don’t know, what’s wrong?” I throw it back at her, my simmering annoyance leading me. God damn, I’m condemning her lack of control and trying to analyze it, and here I am losing control, too. Should I analyze that? I laugh. You already have, Ryan. You’re smitten. You care. It’s old news. Move it along.
“Nothing.” Her voice is small, and I see with perfect clarity that she’s starting to shut down. Fucking hell. I’m pushing her away. I’m desperate for her to share her sorrows. I’m desperate to ease her pain. I look at this impassioned woman and imagine things that I thought were beyond my capability to imagine. Like sharing my life.
I wrestle myself back into line and place a soft kiss to her mouth. “You’re always in such a rush,” I say around her lips. “There’s no need to be.” The water is warm now, hot meeting the cold morning air, steam billowing up, shrouding us.
“Sorry,” she replies, and fuck me, I quickly feel like shit. I shouldn’t condemn her for being so eager and desperate. I should be chuffed. If only I could shake the notion that there’s more to her rush than simple hunger for me. Could it be that simple? “You’re irresistible,” she confesses unapologetically.
“I can live with that.” I reach between us and take hold of my dick, guiding myself to her, and she tenses against me, bringing her forehead to mine. As I slip into her with ease, both of us cry out, my fist hitting the wood behind her. Fuck me, the feel of her around me is arresting. “I need a second,” I admit, ready to shoot my load at any moment. My eyes cross behind my lids, my teeth gritting. I can feel her warmth pulsing against my shaft. It’s not fucking helping. “Don’t move.”
“I’m not moving.”
“Oh Jesus, Hannah.” I flex my hips, sliding out a fraction. “You feel out of this world.”
She moans when I hit home on a grunt, my teeth locking onto her neck and biting gently.
I find my stride quickly, easing in and out of her on semi-controlled drives. I feel our wet bodies sliding and have to jack her up a little when she slips down my torso a bit. The result is an unplanned pound into her, and she yelps, her eyes flying open, her hands fisting my hair painfully, as if to return the favor. Her viciousness only spurs me on, and I lock stares with her, my face tight. I’m rapidly losing my control. She pulls my head forward and plunges her tongue deep, and I swallow down every sound of pleasure she makes as I’m claimed by a craving that’s way out of my control. The friction is debilitating, my nerve endings on fire.
I grab her thigh and squeeze, our tongues clashing. My body is burning up, my thrusts automatically gaining momentum. Fuck, is she with me? I open my eyes and find her staring at me, and I pull back to get a better view, seeing all too clearly that she is. Then I feel it, too. She stiffens against me, pulling in a deep breath, tightens her thighs, and her eyes glimmer madly. Fuck me. The sight alone pushes me over the edge, and I detonate, my whole body going into spasm as I’m torn in half by the power of my climax. I hear Hannah scream, the sound broken and jagged, but distorted through the rush of blood swirling in my head.
My knees give out, forcing me down to the cold tile floor in a heap. At the mercy of her own exhaustion, Hannah has no choice but to fall with me, landing on my front, and my arms fall above my head, unable to keep holding her.
I close my eyes, drained.
Yet more alive than ever.
She hums and rolls to her back next to me, sucking in air when her skin meets the stone tiles. “Shit,” she gasps, and I drop my head to the side, finding just enough energy to smile. But I can’t talk. Can’t even find the will to think of anything to say. So I just reach for her hand and hold it while we lie side by side and recover, both of us staring up to the sky.
“I like your shower,” she says after a while, tugging my hand to her face and nuzzling it.
“I’ve always liked it. Now I fucking love it.” I shift onto my side to face her. “You’ll have to be here every morning to shower with me, because I don’t want to just like it ever again.”
Her response is to simply smile at the sky. “I really love it here,” she says wistfully. “It’s so quiet and peaceful. Hidden from the world.”
Hidden. She’s hiding from something. All the scraps of information Hannah’s unintentionally throwing my way are slowly building a picture. But the picture is fuzzy still. Will it ever be clear? I don’t know, but what I do know is she’s here, hidden, and whatever she’s hiding from can’t find her. And if it does…I quickly shake off those dangerous thoughts. It’s obvious now that Hannah’s scared to trust, and everything tells me she’s scared to feel. Now I just need to find out why. Or do I?
“Is that a car?” Hannah breaks into my thoughts, and I still, listening.
“Sounds like it.” I quickly jump to my feet and look over the top of the shower stall. My eyes widen. “Shit.”
“What?”
I fly around in a panic and collect a startled Hannah from the floor, putting her on her feet and ushering her out of the shower. Hurrying us across the lawn, I look back over my shoulder, seeing Darcy’s Jaguar emerging from the darkness of the trees canopying the road. What the hell is she doing here? “It’s Alex’s mother.”
I direct Hannah into the bedroom and throw a shirt at her. “She can’t see you.” I scramble for some more sweats and yank them on, quickly peeking out of my bedroom window. “Oh no,” I mumble, seeing Alex in the passenger seat.
“What, Ryan?” Hannah sounds reasonably annoyed.
“It’s Alex, too, and she definitely can’t see you.” I hurry over to Hannah and help her into the shirt, tugging the sides in and buttoning it up, albeit wonky, leaving one tail longer than the other. Then I run into the kitchen and snatch up my keys from the counter. “Get in my truck,” I say when I make it back into the bedroom, finding Hannah has abandoned my shirt in favor of her dress from last night. It must be wet. But then again, so are we. Whatever, I don’t have time to waste on what she’s wearing and why.
I shove the keys in her hand and take her shoulders, turning her and leading her to the back door. “If you go around the back of the shed they won’t see you. Wait for me.” I turn her quickly, smack a huge kiss on her lips, and then send her on her way. I slam the door and turn, running to the living room. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I fly to the door, take a moment to compose myself, and then pull it open with a stupid smile.
Alex skids to an abrupt halt halfway up the steps to the veranda, taking me in, and I shift and squirm guiltily under her scrutinizing glare. “What are you doing here?” I ask.
She narrows
her eyes. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.” I laugh like a twat, looking past her to Darcy. “Morning,” I chirp.
Just like our daughter, Darcy stops in her tracks, assessing me suspiciously. My smile widens. Darcy cocks her head. “You were supposed to collect Alexandra at eight.”
Shit. I was? I look to my girl, who now has her arms folded over her chest. I give her sorry eyes. “I’m sorry, Cabbage. I just woke up.” That’s bullshit, and she must know it. I’m out running by six every morning, no matter what day, no matter the weather.
“Then why is your hair wet?” she asks.
I reach up and feel, cringing. “Because I just showered.”
“You said you just woke up.”
“Like ten minutes ago.”
Silence falls, and I stand like a plum being studied by two sets of beady eyes. Fuck me, won’t they just stop? Eventually, Alex passes me, though her eyes remain glued to my guilty form the whole way, until she’s in the cabin and it’s just me and her mother.
“Good night?” I ask, taking the steps and collecting a few more stray sticks and twigs.
“What do you care?” Darcy retorts, and I pause, half bent over, asking myself that very question. I couldn’t give a shit about her night. Alex’s, on the other hand…
I straighten. “I don’t.”
“Then why ask?”
I roll my eyes and make my way to the compost heap, tossing the debris on top and collecting some more sticks from nearby. “Is that all, Darcy?” I turn and find her standing motionless, lost in a bit of a trance. At first, I’m confused, but then I note the direction of her stare. I look down at my bare chest. It’s been years since she’s seen this torso. Back then, it was cut from a very active job and youth. Now it’s still cut, sure, but I have to work a lot damn harder to keep myself in physical shape.
I break the stick in my hand, the crack snapping Darcy right out of her daydream. “All right over there?” I ask on a wicked smirk.
Leave Me Breathless Page 14
