by JM Stewart
The woman across the way drove him nuts. She didn’t at all match the description Hannah gave him the first night they met. He expected a tall, willowy blonde with short, pixie-cut hair and long legs. This woman had light brown locks that fell past her shoulders in thick waves. She didn’t look very tall, either, but short and voluptuous. She wore a gray, off-shoulder T-shirt, with a white tank beneath. Her fitted black jeans hugged her luscious curves, and his runaway libido ramped up a notch. It couldn’t possibly be her, but he had to admit, if it was, he wasn’t disappointed.
People came and went, passing through the area or moving beyond him to take their place in line, to go up to the observation deck of the Space Needle. There had to be several dozen women in the vicinity, but none seemed to pay him any mind. This one watched him the way he watched her. But was that Hannah?
Deciding to grab the bull by the horns, he turned his head and met her gaze again. Like before, a deep pink suffused her cheeks. She looked down at the ground. Following her gaze, he noted her open-toed sandals. Shoes like that said casual and comfortable but practical, which didn’t at all match the carefree spirit his Hannah had always been. As he continued to stare, her gaze wandered back to him, the way it had the last few times. She peeked at him from beneath her lashes and blushed all over again.
His cock twitched in his pants. Damn it all to hell. Hannah hadn’t been shy in the least. His Hannah would have marched over here by now.
The thought that she might have lied had his nerves scattering. Hannah flat out scared the hell out of him. The fiasco that had been his ex-fiancée, Amelia, should have kept Hannah in the safe territory of the Internet. He’d discovered too little too late that Amelia was another gold digger, another woman out to get her hands on his father’s money.
He ought to be accustomed to being used by now, but it always managed to surprise him. More to the point, he should’ve kept Hannah as an online fling, but talking to her had become too easy. She was sassy but sweet. When he talked, she listened. Really listened. That the sex was so hot as well had him hooked. Exactly why he was here and what had him shaking in his shoes at the thought she might have lied about herself. If he was right, he had to wonder why. Did she have something to hide?
Then again, he wasn’t one to talk. He had secrets of his own. He hadn’t told Hannah about his family, nor had he told her about Ethan. He had a thirteen-year-old son he didn’t know, the result of teenage hormones. The boy was his greatest pride and the cause of his deepest regret. The birth mother had given him up for adoption. Cade had seen him once, the day he was born, and although his adoptive mother sent pictures and letters, his son had no idea who Cade was. His biggest regret in life was not fighting harder to keep him. He was terrified that if he told Hannah the truth, she’d turn around and walk away. They might not have much more than an online fling, but he needed it. He needed her.
Deciding he had to know whether or not that was Hannah, he fished his phone from his pocket and drew up Hannah’s number from his favorites. Yeah. He’d had her number for all of a week now, and she was in his favorites already. The first ring sounded across the courtyard. The woman’s cheeks blazed bright red. As she fished her phone out of her back pocket, her hands shook so much it slipped from her grasp onto the ground. As she bent to retrieve it, the odd jingle sounded again and heads turned.
She punched something on the screen and held the phone to her ear. “I guess the jig’s up, huh?”
A full-on grin spread across his mouth. Christ, he couldn’t help himself. That was Hannah. He couldn’t get ahead of himself, though. She had some questions to answer first. He wouldn’t play the hopeless fool again, with his heart on his sleeve. “Was anything you told me true?”
She shrugged. “If I told you I was five foot three and ten pounds too heavy, would you even have met me here?”
His heart twisted. She had him there. Insecurities. He knew them well. Which meant if he expected the truth, he needed to give it as well. He had to be honest with her, even if this went nowhere.
“You don’t look too heavy, baby. You look healthy. The women in my circles are too damn thin, starving themselves to meet someone else’s idea of beautiful.” Hannah had curves on top of curves. She had small breasts he suspected would fit perfectly in his palms, topped by strong shoulders. Her round ass filled out her dark jeans to perfection. He couldn’t wait to get her out of them. He ached to discover if her skin was as soft as it looked.
“Besides, it’s you I’m addicted to. You’re the reason I go straight home to my computer at the end of every night despite swearing I was done with women seven months ago. That’s the answer to your question, by the way. Why I don’t find a real woman. My ex killed the need. She used me and she cheated on me, and, sadly, she wasn’t the first. I found her in bed with my best friend. She used him, too, pitted us against each other for her own gain. I’m curious, though. How much of our exchanges were just you playing a game?”
He focused on his work these days. He’d had it up to his eyeballs with phony women and being used. Women who saw him as nothing more than a bank balance or a plaything had long ago worn out their welcome. His ex had been the last straw. She’d slept with Sebastian, his childhood best friend, then dropped the bomb on both of them—she was pregnant, and she didn’t know which of them had fathered the child. He and his lawyer had taken her to court, forcing her to prove her claims, but so far, she hadn’t complied. She was still game-playing, trying to blackmail him into paying her off.
One. That’s all he wanted. One woman who’d be honest with him. Which made him wonder about Hannah.
When she didn’t answer his question, he smiled, tight but polite. “I take it you did your research on me? What did you discover?”
She watched him for a moment, her gaze locked on his. Then she drew a breath, her shoulders softening. “You’re a corporate lawyer. You work for your father, Declan McKenzie, in one of the largest and oldest law firms on the West Coast. Your father is worth billions and you made full partner last year, the youngest lawyer in your firm to do so. Your family also owns a small but up-and-coming software company.”
He nodded. “Mmm. My sister’s baby.”
Impressive, but he had no desire to let her off the hook yet. She’d lied to him but shown up anyway. What was her game?
“You should have discovered by now I want the same thing you do. I want someone who can be straight with me, who doesn’t see me as a means to lining their closets or stroking their inflated ego. How much of what you told me was the truth?”
Meeting Hannah had been a fluke. They’d met in an online discussion about a hot novel seated on the top of the New York Times bestseller list. The erotic tale had sides divided and people arguing over its BDSM aspects. He and Hannah had been arguing opposing sides of that very topic. She opposed the idea of someone beating her, as she’d called it. “It’s barbaric!” she’d told him once. “How can beating someone turn someone on?”
His response? How would she know if she’d never tried it? Of course, forms of torture didn’t arouse him. He agreed with her there. He had no desire to inflict pain on a partner. The thought of tying a woman down and having his way with her, though, made him hard enough to hammer nails, and a smack on the ass in the middle of a good groove could heighten the intensity for both of them. Which was where his turn-ons really lay—his partner’s satisfaction. Watching a woman’s ecstasy had to be the most erotic thing in the world, when she let go and came apart beneath him.
And so their conversation had gone. One thing led to another, and she’d admitted his ideas turned her on as well. As long as he had no plans to whip her or spank her until her behind stung so much she couldn’t sit down.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. I was afraid to. Truthfully, if you ended up like the rest of the guys I’ve met, I didn’t want to know. I wanted to play, to be someone else for a while.” Across the courtyard, another fierce blush stole across Hannah’s cheeks. Her voic
e lowered. “I didn’t lie when I told you we want the same things. I only lied about the way I look.”
Apparently, she had as much to lose in this exchange as he did. “Why?”
She looked down at the ground, nudging something with the toe of her sandal. “Men want tall, thin, perfect women, with long legs and huge breasts, and as you can see, I’m not any of that.”
What she wasn’t saying hit him clear as day, and his heart twisted, his anger deflating. Someone had made her feel less than beautiful. He hated the thought.
“You look perfect from here. Your breasts look like a mouthwatering handful. Believe me, sweetheart, I’m not disappointed. If you were afraid, though, why come at all? You knew I’d discover the truth once I saw you.”
She looked up, her gaze bold and unapologetic. “Because I hoped you’d be different. That you wouldn’t be like all the rest.”
They had the exact same fear—of being used and being judged.
“And because you’re right. I had to see you.”
Her last comment was the final point, making the decision for him. Having heard all he needed, Cade disconnected the call and stuffed his phone back in his pocket. Then he smiled and crooked a finger at her. She hesitated, staring at him, then hiked her chin and started across the field. His gaze transfixed on the sexy swing of her hips as she walked, and the embarrassing bulge in his slacks thickened and lengthened. How it was possible to crave someone the way he did her, he didn’t know, but the reaction had been instantaneous from the first argument. Hannah had passion and it turned him the hell on.
When she stopped in front of him, the scar on her cheek came into view. The deep groove cut a jagged path from temple to chin, bisecting her right cheek. Another two-inch scar cut across her left eyebrow and a smaller one-inch slash sat below her left cheekbone.
“You didn’t tell me about these.” He traced the longest scar with the pad of his thumb, his chest aching with the thought of how she’d gotten them. What could cause a scar like that? No sooner had the question formed than possibilities filled his mind, and his gut knotted for the pain she must have endured. He prayed she hadn’t been attacked.
She stiffened and jerked her head to the left. A curtain of hair fell forward over her shoulder, hiding her face. She folded her arms, and he got the distinct impression she meant the action to shut him out. “I suppose it’s a deal breaker, then?”
Her stiff posture nudged something in his gut. Her unyielding tone told him she’d taken her question as fact.
He dropped his hand and arched a brow. “Has it ever been?”
She shrugged, offhanded and dismissive, but her stiff posture answered the question even before her response left her mouth. Someone had hurt her.
“Once or twice. I’ve been teased, stared at, and gossiped about enough to know this sort of thing bothers some people. The scars are deep and all the makeup in the world can’t hide them. On top of the lies I told you, I wouldn’t blame you if you change your mind.”
Disappointment surged through him and his heart clenched. So she’d dealt with them, too, those shallow people who couldn’t see beyond their own noses. A wave of anger followed on its heels. Somebody had made her believe she wasn’t beautiful the way she was, and it pissed him off.
Knowing she wouldn’t believe him, he set out to prove he wasn’t like the other men in her life.
“We all have our secrets. I have my own, and when the time is right, I’ll share them.” He had to admit the thought of telling her about Ethan made his stomach tighten. Would she judge him for the choices he’d made all those years ago? Any other time, he might have kept the secret to himself. After all, their relationship was temporary, little more than a fling. But she’d shared with him. He had to give her the same trust in return. He didn’t, however, want to do it now.
Her gaze darted in his direction, but the mistrust didn’t disappear from her face, and she didn’t otherwise move. He was going to have to prove it to her.
Decision made, he slid his hands onto her hips and over the curve of her behind, pulling her into him. Despite her clear mistrust, she went willingly. To passersby, it would look like an embrace, like a man greeting his girlfriend, but he arched his hips, pushing his straining erection into the softness of her stomach enough that she could feel it. He needed her to know he found her beautiful, and he could think of only one way to do it, given the nature of their relationship.
Hannah gasped. His breath halted as his entire body focused on hers. He’d fantasized so many times about this moment, when he’d have her in his arms. Now he had her and he couldn’t concentrate worth a damn. At least not about anything except the desperate desire to drag her back to his hotel room and sink into her velvet heat. He wanted to get to know every inch of her skin, her every reaction, and he yearned to bring her more pleasure than she’d ever had.
Managing to find his brain again, he leaned his head beside her ear. A soft, lavender scent wafted over him. He had the overwhelming desire to search out every spot she’d dabbed the luscious scent. “See what you to do me? Does this feel like a man who’s disappointed by what he sees? The thought of meeting you has had me hard all day, but this particular erection is from watching you walk across the courtyard. Do you have any idea how sexy your ass swings when you walk or how phenomenal you look in those jeans?”
She drew in a shuddering breath. Her stiff posture softened, and she leaned into him. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t know who you were until you told me. We agreed to no names, nothing to identify each other by, remember? It’s part of the rules I live by. Truth is, your money doesn’t mean a whole lot to me. Money pays the bills, but it can’t buy happiness. Or love.”
He had to admit she impressed him. She might have lied about certain aspects of herself, but he could understand why. He’d done the same.
“I agree. I might have been born into it, but I work hard for every penny. I earned my position. My father didn’t hand it to me. In fact, he made me work harder because of it, made me prove myself to the other partners in the firm.” Unable to help himself, he raked his teeth over her earlobe, then soothed the bite with a stroke of his tongue. “Are you wet, Hannah?”
Her fingers curled around his biceps, where she held on to him. A soft shiver ran through her. “Very.”
He groaned, shoved a hand into his pocket and rearranged his erection so as not to embarrass himself, then forced himself to release her. He took her hand instead, threading his fingers through hers. It scared the hell out of him, too, how right her hand felt in his. “Let’s go find that coffee. Before I drag you to a bathroom somewhere.”
As they started to walk, she looked over at him, one brow arched in challenge. “Would you?”
“Oh, I would.”
He halted and tugged on her hand, pulling her close enough to lean his mouth beside her ear again. He shouldn’t, but he couldn’t resist teasing her. She responded, and he loved that she did. She wasn’t fake about it, either, which told him a lot about her character and filled his mind with fantasies. Getting to watch her reactions in person, rather than having to imagine them, had proven a lure too strong to deny.
“I’d turn you around and fuck you from behind. If I remember right, you like it from behind. I’d enjoy watching your face in the mirror. That’s why I’m really here. Words on a screen aren’t enough anymore. We have the same kink, sweetheart. I enjoy watching, too, and I’m dying to see the heat in your eyes when I slide into you. Hear you moan my name when you come and feel your pussy tighten around my cock.”
He knew he’d hit his mark when she let out a sound that was half gasp, half moan.
“I have no desire, though, for my first time with you to be fast and furious. I intend to take my time.” He nipped her earlobe, delighted in the soft shudder that went through her, then forced himself to release her. He took her hand again and resumed his trek, heading for the light on the corner. “Come on. Let’s go find that coffee. I passed a Starbucks on the
way from my hotel.”
* * *
She couldn’t stop staring at him. Seated across the small round table in Starbucks, Hannah couldn’t keep her eyes off Cade. She couldn’t stop herself from soaking in every detail of his tall, broad form. She’d searched him out online, found his picture on his company’s website, so she knew what to expect before coming today, but seeing him in person didn’t do him justice. Cade McKenzie looked like he’d stepped off the cover of GQ magazine. He stood a good head above her five foot three inches. Thick, broad shoulders tapered to lean hips and powerful thighs that even the perfect fit of his tailored slacks couldn’t hide.
He kept his black hair short, the bristles of his bangs dabbed with a bit of gel to make them stand up. His eyes were a beautiful shade of deep green, like the moss so rampant around these parts. They seemed to catch her every move, something working in the depths that told her Cade didn’t miss a thing. Coffee cups in hand, they’d sat in silence for several minutes. People occupied every table in the café around them, with five or six people waiting in the various lines inside. So far, since he’d told her he wanted her, neither had said anything. They’d walked in aching silence.
She looked down at her cup and sipped at her coffee. “Your silence is making me crazy. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Cade sat back in his seat, coffee cup cradled in his large hands. “Am I what you expected?”
She lifted her gaze, surprised by the question. It screamed of insecurities. With looks like his, she wouldn’t have thought he had any.
She had to be honest, though, especially if she expected the same in return. Besides, she owed it to him. “No. You don’t look anything like I imagined you would and much better than the picture on your company’s website. You’re a walking contradiction. Your Gchat username and your views on spanking had me picturing some hot bad boy in leather, who rode a cycle and would try to convince me to be his next submissive.”
