by JM Stewart
This time, she couldn’t resist the pull, the need to somehow take his pain or soothe the raw wound. Hannah rolled over to face him. The room lay in darkness but there was enough light to make out his features. He was a shadow within a shadow, his eyes dark hollows within his face, but his gaze seared into her. She didn’t have to ask to know he waited for her reaction. He’d laid his heart out before her, and she couldn’t begin to tell him what that meant to her.
So, she caressed his cheek. His stiff stubble prickled her skin, course yet soft. “Thank you. For sharing, I mean.”
His hand slid over the curve of her hip to her bottom and he rolled onto his back, drawing her against his side. “I do a lot of things I probably shouldn’t when I’m with you.”
She settled her head into the crook of his shoulder and slid her hand over his stomach. “Such as?”
His hand squeezed her bottom playfully and his tone lightened.
“Such as coming over at midnight in my pajamas because I have to see you.” He lifted his head, tucked his fingers beneath her chin and tipped her face to his, murmuring against her mouth as he sought hers in the darkness. He kissed her, the tender play of his lips over hers, then wrapped his arms tighter around her. “I’m addicted to you, Hannah Miller.”
His voice came as a husky murmur in the darkness, and an answering shudder swept down her spine.
“Ditto.” She kissed his chest then laid her head on the curve of his shoulder. His heartbeat had evened out, no longer erratic, nervous thumping, but a quiet, soothing pulse. The sound, along with the safety of his arms around her, lulled her, and in the comfortable silence, the old familiar memories rose. The dull, familiar ache throbbed in her chest and the need to share hit her hard. She shouldn’t. What she ought to do was reinforce those boundaries, but neither could she stop the words from leaving her mouth. He’d shared with her, and she couldn’t resist doing the same.
The way it always was with him when they talked. He lulled her into a sense of safety that scared the crap out of her. Because Cade had never felt like a stranger, but someone she’d known forever.
“After my parents died, I bounced around from foster home to foster home. Some were nice. Some weren’t. When I was sixteen, they sent me to a group home. They had strict rules we had to follow. When meals were served, quiet time at night, curfew and bedtime. They even made sure we showered every day and took turns with the chores. Not everybody was nice. Some of the kids had been there nearly all their lives. Stuff got stolen. Fights happened. Bullies picked on the weaker, smaller kids. The usual kid stuff.”
His hands swept over her in a lazy, mindless fashion, up and down her back, over the curve of her hip and up her side, fingertips occasionally following her spine. It told her in no uncertain terms he listened. She couldn’t deny the gestures soothed her. Nor could she deny talking to him felt as right as rain. Over the six months since they met on that message board, Cade had become an intimate confidante. When she met him at the Space Needle, she hadn’t been sure what to expect, but lying in the dark in the shelter of his embrace, sharing her world, however painful it might have been at times, was the most natural thing in the world.
So she gave in to the lure. In a week and a half, this would end and they’d go back to…something, but their relationship, this intimacy would end. Now, she couldn’t resist. She needed this.
She slid a hand over his lean stomach, let her fingers wander through the dusting of dark hair there. “It’s funny. Some parts of my life are a blur, a vague snapshot here and there. Like the accident. It’s bits and pieces now. I’m not even sure I remember what my mother looks like anymore. The memories of her, of my parents, have faded. They’re vague blips in my mind, a feeling more so than a specific memory. But I remember everything about the group home I lived in, the house. I remember every single face that came and went. The shenanigans we used to get into. The meals. Even the musty smell of the house.”
“I don’t think moments like those ever leave you.”
His voice rumbled beneath her ear, his tone thoughtful but nonjudgmental. She nodded, her head rocking against his shoulder, grateful for his attentive ear, to know he not only listened, but also that he cared. “A couple of times you asked me to trust you, to learn to open up and talk to you. It makes you nervous that you think I don’t.”
“Sorry. It’s a habit. One too many people have kept secrets from me. It’s how I usually learned I was being used. People who are honest are open.”
“And your ex wasn’t.”
His fingers trailed up her spine this time, leaving goose bumps in their wake. “Mmm.”
“Truth is, I don’t talk much about my life after my parents died because I learned not to over the years. The kids at school all talked about their parents, their siblings, complained about getting grounded. Normal stuff, you know? In the group home, nobody ever talked, at least not about anything except when they were getting out. I didn’t want anybody to know I lived that way. What they don’t tell you is that when you turn eighteen, you age out of the system and they let you go. Once you’re an adult, you’re on your own and you have to leave.”
For a moment, only the sound of his quiet breathing echoing through his chest filled the aching silence rising over the room. Her chest tightened as she waited.
“So, you’ve been on your own since they died. What on earth did you do after you left the group home?”
She released her held breath, her body relaxing. She couldn’t begin to tell him what it meant to know he listened and cared. Her chest swelled with the need to share her gratitude with him, but the words wouldn’t come. They were stuck in the rising lump forming in her throat.
Instead, she snuggled closer and simply answered his question. “My parents left me a trust. They gave it to me when I turned eighteen. I lived off of it. Got a job and an apartment. Went to school.”
“That’s pretty admirable, putting yourself through school.”
She shrugged. “I only knew I didn’t want to end up back where I’d been. I lived on the streets for a couple of weeks after they let me go, and I knew I wanted more than that. One of the memories I have is my mother telling me, ‘Don’t ever let anybody tell you that you can’t do or be something. You can be whatever you set your mind to.’”
Her mother’s words had stuck, had been the driving force in her life. Her parents had given their lives, and she’d ended up in a sometimes dysfunctional place, but those words had gotten her through.
“When did you open the bookstore?”
“About three years ago. I met Maddie at a midsized publishing house I worked at for a couple of years. I worked as an editorial assistant. She worked in marketing. It’s what she does at the shop. She’s good at it. One day, she suggested we open a bookstore together. I’ve always loved books. They’re what got me through. As a girl, I always had my nose in a book.”
He growled, a sexy little rumble in the back of his throat. His warm palm slid over her bare backside. “Reading is sexy.”
Recognizing her own sentiment, she let out a quiet laugh and echoed his earlier response.
“I’m glad you think so. My mother worked as a librarian, and reading always made me feel closer to her. I’ve always collected old books, the ones I treasured the most. Maddie and I got to looking through my collection one day, and she offhandedly suggested I open a shop.” She let out a quiet laugh. “I have an English degree I don’t use.”
“I think you just described half the people who graduate college. I know a few who ended up in professions they didn’t go to school for.” His arms tightened around her. “Tell me about your parents.”
Hannah relaxed into his side, listening to the soothing thumb-bump of his heartbeat, and surrendered to the lull between them. They spent the next several hours talking. She told him things she’d sworn once she wouldn’t ever tell anyone. The things she remembered about her parents. The first few years after she opened the shop, when she feared the business would
fail. Even some of the painful secrets of living in foster care. In return, he shared bits and pieces of himself. His son. His twin sister, Christina. His mother, who forever tried to fix him up with the single women who ran in their circles.
On a return trip from the bathroom, the time on the clock caught her. Seated on the edge of the bed, she stared at the red numbers: 3:04 a.m. She shouldn’t allow him to stay. She’d made that particular rule. The need to kick him out wouldn’t surface, though, no matter how much she told herself she needed to stick to the script. She had to admit, she enjoyed lying there with him. Something as simple as lying in the dark sharing her life with him gave her more than the great sex. She’d give up the entire two weeks for another night like this, to lie in his arms and talk, luxuriate in the intimacy and closeness.
“I know I’m the one who made the rule, but…” She swallowed, her voice lowering with the vulnerability sliding over her. “You don’t have to leave.”
He let out a quiet chuckle behind her. “Good. I hadn’t planned on it.”
She turned her head to look at him. The light from outside provided enough illumination to make out the dark shape of his face. She couldn’t be positive, but she swore he grinned at her.
Her own mouth lifted in response. “A bit sure of yourself, there, GQ.”
“Nope. Just hopeful. Come back to bed.” His hand found hers in the darkness, and he tugged her to him. When she lay down beside him again, he lifted his head, his mouth finding hers. His lips moved with a lazy languidness, plying and tugging, as if he had all the time in the world.
She melted into the warm, moist slide of his mouth and shifted to lie along his length. A contented sigh left her and warning bells blared a red alert in her head. She was in trouble. She was in a damn lot of it. Four days in, and she’d already broken her own rule. Like the wondrous pull of a good book, Cade McKenzie had hooked her. God help her, but she couldn’t put him down.
Chapter Seven
As the sunrise chased the shadows from the room the next morning, Cade lay on his side, one arm tucked beneath his pillow. He’d been awake for twenty minutes now. Beside him, Hannah still slept. She hadn’t moved much during the night. She had to be the only woman he’d ever been with who didn’t take over the entire bed, covers and all. She’d rolled over, but otherwise, she kept to her position, lying on her side, breathing softly.
She looked the way she had when she’d gone to sleep. No wild, tangled mane of bed head. No morning raccoon eyes. She’d taken her makeup off sometime last night while he slept. He had the first glimpse of her au naturel. Her beauty took his breath away. She had almond-shaped eyes, flawless skin, and full, rosy lips he had the desire to lean over and taste.
This two-week affair had been his idea, the rules half his, but lying there, watching her sleep, he couldn’t deny the emotion throbbing in his chest anymore. The thought of going back to his condo in San Diego and never seeing her like this again tied his heart in knots.
Hannah scared the hell out of him. He’d tried so hard the last two days to redraw his boundaries, to put her back in the proper box, but his time with her dwindled day by day. He had a week and a half left. Ten days to enjoy her. Then what? He’d go back to sleeping alone? To days, weeks, months spent burying himself up to his eyeballs in work so he wouldn’t have to feel the loneliness pulsing inside of him?
It was what he wanted once. The old man had high expectations and something in Cade responded, wanted to meet them. He enjoyed the challenge, yet yearned to prove to his father he’d grown up, that he wasn’t that seventeen-year-old kid who’d carelessly gotten a girl pregnant.
He’d convinced himself work provided everything he needed, but time with Hannah had made him realize how empty his life had become and how much he wanted more. Amelia had been another expectation met. He’d convinced himself he’d fallen in love with her, but now, lying there, watching Hannah sleep, the truth stared him in the face. Amelia hadn’t made him feel even half the way Hannah did. Hannah set him free. She accepted him at face value and he could be himself. No name, no obligations, no expectations.
That’s where he’d gotten stuck. He didn’t know what happened now. He’d spent his life building what he had, and so had she. Never mind they’d agreed their relationship was a fling—short-lived and destined to end. They couldn’t be any farther apart from each other.
She stirred beside him, her eyelids fluttering open, and rolled onto her back, stretching her hands over her head and yawning. When her gaze landed on him, she dropped her arms and smiled, surprise lighting her eyes. “You’re still here.”
“That particular rule was yours, not mine.” He winked, then rolled over on top of her, holding himself on his elbows as he settled between her thighs. God, how he loved the way she fit against him. He brushed a kiss across her alluring mouth. “Sleep well?”
One thing he did know. All she had to do was smile at him, and he wanted her. His cock throbbed to life, settling against the hot folds of her body. He wanted to make love to her one last time before he had to leave her for the day. He wanted a piece of her to take with him.
“Like a baby.” She purred low in her throat and bent her knees, cradling his hips with her thighs. Her hands slid up his back, and she arched against him. The head of his cock slid inside her.
Cade let out a low, agonized groan. He wanted more than anything to follow her lead, to push into her to the hilt and make love to her until she screamed his name. The way her body responded to his blew his damn mind. He couldn’t get enough of her.
He nipped at her bottom lip. “Hold that thought, baby.”
He moved off her long enough to pull the last condom from the pocket of his pajama bottoms—because he didn’t go anywhere without being prepared—then rejoined her. She slid her hands up his back, gathering him close, her ankles locking around his hips as he slid into her. He rested there a moment, enjoying the luscious pull of her body around him, gripping him like a warm, wet glove.
“Christ, you feel good. So hot and wet.” He pressed a kiss to her lips and slid all the way out, inch by aching inch, then pushed all the way back in the same way. He wanted to prolong their time together. He’d have to go soon and he wanted as much of her as he could get before obligation made him leave her.
“I dreamt about you.” Hannah gasped. Her nails scraped the backs of his shoulders. Her hips arched, rising to meet his slow thrust.
Cade took his time. He allowed himself to enjoy the moment and watching the lazy bliss travel across her features. She clutched his back and wrapped her body around his, her hips rocking in time with his. His every cell focused on her. Her quiet moans. Her harsh, erratic breathing, and the little purrs emanating from the back of her throat.
He slid a hand beneath her ass, changed the angle, and Hannah erupted beneath him. She gasped, her thighs clamped around his hips, her body convulsing beneath him and around him, pulling a lazy, exquisite orgasm from him. He followed on her heels, hips jerking as he came.
He dropped his head into the crook of her shoulder, drowning himself in her scent. Hannah didn’t release her hold on him, either, but rather tightened her grip. He rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around her in return. She rested her head on his chest and they lay together for long minutes in silence, holding each other, both of them continuing to shake.
When his breathing returned to normal, he lifted his head, meeting her gaze. He tucked her hair behind her ear with the tip of his index finger. Why was leaving her so damn difficult? This was only supposed to be a fling, but something about her spoke to something in him. He wanted to stay, to spend the day wrapped around her, doing things like eating finger foods in bed. He wanted to make her laugh, to watch her smile light up her eyes.
Which was why he needed to leave. “I have to go.”
She nodded, but didn’t otherwise say anything. Unable to resist, he brushed his mouth over hers, one last taste to take with him during the day. Her lips opened beneath his, their
breath mingling. Her body reached for him in turn, surging to meet him.
Yeah. They’d reached that point. They were comfortable touching, but not yet comfortable with the kind of needing that had nothing to do with the physical body. No, this had everything to do with something they’d agreed had no place in their exchanges—emotion. It was there nonetheless. They’d reached the point where emotion began to trickle in and reason began to trickle out. He’d been here before, when he thought he’d fallen in love with Amelia.
He forced himself to pull back, to shift off her and get out of bed. He went into the attached bathroom to get rid of the condom, then found his clothing on the floor and pulled it on. He could only shake his head at himself as he did. Pajamas. He’d come over in pajamas. That was a first. He’d never needed someone so much he let all decorum slide.
Hannah didn’t follow suit. Instead, she rolled onto her side and propped herself on an elbow, watching him with eyes hooded by an emotion he didn’t want to look too closely at. After he dressed, he went back to the bed, braced his hands on either side of her, and pressed a goodbye kiss to her lips. The pull of her mouth once again sucked all reason from his mind. She melted beneath him, and he leaned into her, taking more than the simple peck he’d intended.
Breathing hard now, he pulled back, closed his eyes, and surrendered, resting his forehead against hers. “God, you drive me crazy. I don’t want to leave.”
“I don’t want you to leave either.”
The quiet vulnerability in her voice made him open his eyes. Her gaze darted over his face. The anxiousness there matched the knots in his stomach. They’d gotten caught in something that terrified him, because he wanted it. He wanted everything her gorgeous eyes promised him. The intimacy, the sweet connection. He knew without a doubt she could fill all those empty spaces.
