by L. A. Fiore
She lifted to her elbows, her gaze dropped to his mouth. She was about to make a comment about that greeting but the reminder of dinner with his parents, the humor died a bit. Not that she didn’t want to get to know his parents, but Catherine…she was a lot to take. She moved from the counter, glanced back at it and thought fuck it. “I vote for that being our nightly greeting.”
Hank was halfway up the stairs when he shouted back. “Baby, I come home to you in my house, night or day, that will be your greeting.”
“So you’re usually home around six, right?” She asked with a big smile.
He stopped and turned and caught the sight of her at the bottom of the stairs. Her big smile on her glowing face. The sight hit him…hard. Felt it in his gut. Was smart enough to know what it was and didn’t fuck around. As he stood there unbuttoning his shirt he told her. “I’m falling in love with you.”
Arissa had been enjoying watching him undress, so she almost didn’t hear what he said. Her eyes jerked from his chest to his face, her heart was tripping behind her ribs, her smile shifted, turned warmer…deeper. Her voice was barely over a whisper. “Say that again.”
“I’m lying.’’ Hank said and continued unbuttoning his shirt as he pulled it from his pants. “I’m not falling in love with you. I am in love with you.” It wasn’t even two months. Some would say he was crazy. But Hank knew. He wasn’t a kid falling for the first girl to touch his dick. He knew what true love was and he felt it. Felt it when she wasn’t around and even more when she was near him.
Her legs were weak as she took one step at a time to him. Her gaze never left his face because no one had ever said those words to her. She knew she’d never felt it before, but if the feeling she felt when she was with him was love, she wasn’t falling, either. “I don’t know how it’s possible, but you’re on my mind every second of the day. When I’m not with you, I’m counting the minutes to when I will be and there’s this feeling right here,” she said and touched her chest. “That grows every time we’re together.” She stopped right in front of him. “I’m in love with you too.”
When she landed on the step below him, he took her hand that lie on her chest and put it to his own. “I feel it too.” Hank leaned down and kissed her, soft and sweet, taking his time roaming her mouth. He would have taken it further but the dinner tonight was long overdue and needed to be done. But after dinner…
* * *
Hank shoveled a bite of meatloaf into his mouth and spoke around chewing. “Nah, things have been pretty calm lately.” He finished chewing and swallowed before he told his dad, “Just the normal shit, loose pussies, bitchy old women, and temperamental chickens.”
Henry snickered, Arissa choked on her water. Even though they saw the humor, Catherine did not when she chastised, “Hank!” She placed her fork on the edge of her plate and finished, “Watch your mouth.”
Tossing a piece of homemade biscuit in his mouth, he talked around it. “Thirty-six, Ma, remember that.”
Catherine narrowed her eyes before she said silkily, “Doesn’t matter your age. Manners are manners and I taught you better than that.” Her gaze drifted to Arissa. “And we do have a guest.”
Arissa had sat quietly through the meal, watching the dynamic between Hank and his parents. She had taken time dressing for dinner. Saw the dress in a shop window on Main Street, the floral print sundress with dipping neckline and asymmetrical ruffled hem. Her hair was up; diamonds winked at her ears and on her feet were silver strappy-heeled sandals. She’d wanted to make a good impression. Despite her first encounter with Catherine, her hope was they’d come together over what they shared and that was their love for Hank. That wasn’t the case, though. Catherine was polite, painfully so, but she had yet to refer to Arissa by her name, calling her only a guest. She didn’t feel like a guest; she felt about as welcomed as a migraine.
She turned her focus on Hank, who was already looking at her, a grin playing on his mouth, a mouth she had plans for when they got back to his place. She intentionally baited Catherine when she said, “He’s serious.” Her eyes lit with mischief. “There’s a lot of pussy wrangling in town. It’s got to be exhausting.”
Henry began to cough, his green bean going down the wrong pipe. Hank leaned toward his dad, chuckling, and patted him on the back. Henry raised a hand to motion he was okay while he reached for his glass of water.
Catherine let out an exaggerated huff and tossed her napkin onto her half eaten plate, muttering, “I’ve lost my appetite.”
Hank grumbled, “Stop it, Ma.” Then he looked at Arissa again and grinned, leaving her eyes with a wink of his.
Arissa lowered her head to hide her smile. She should feel badly about upsetting Catherine, but for someone who had invited her to dinner, she hadn’t been at all gracious. Two wrongs didn’t make a right, though, so Arissa lifted her gaze to Catherine and tried, once again, to stir conversation with her. “This meatloaf is delicious. We did a contest for the magazine, and this would have definitely been featured.”
Catherine turned her focus on Arissa, her face smoothing out, a little smile touched her lips but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you, dear.”
Despite her words, Arissa felt a chill so reached for her biscuit and took a big bite so she didn’t have to talk again.
Henry placed his glass on the table, reached for his fork, and asked nonchalantly. “So, Hank tells us you’re going to do some spread about his house in the magazine you work for?” Even though the words came out with ease, there still was a hint of tightness around them.
So much for not having to talk.
At the mention of the magazine, Catherine let out a breath before pushing her plate aside.
Arissa’s attention jerked to Catherine and her odd reaction. Reaching for her water, wishing it was wine, she took a sip before turning her focus on Henry. “Yes, his place is amazing, but it’s the juxtaposition of the home and the man behind it that I want to focus on.” Her gaze turned to Hank and warmed. “It’s going to make a hell of a feature.”
“Seems to me that will draw unwanted attention,” Catherine said, dropping her elbows on the table. “I thought you didn’t like all the attention.”
Henry agreed with Catherine on a hum and turned to Hank. “Yeah, what’s up with that?”
Hank was enjoying his dinner, loved his mom’s meatloaf but suddenly it sat like a brick in his gut. He pushed his plate farther from him and laid his elbows to the table. “I didn’t, but why not share my pride and joy with the world.” He shrugged. “What’s the big deal?” Then he turned to Arissa. “Beer?”
She was tempted to crawl over the table and kiss him. Alcohol…perfect. “Yes, please.”
Hank rose. “Dad?”
“No, I’m good, Son.”
Hank started for the kitchen when his cell rang. He grabbed it from his pocket, looked at the screen and informed the room. “Gotta take this, be back.” He disappeared down the hall and out the front door.
Arissa felt her jaw drop; stared at the door Hank disappeared through leaving her alone with his parents and no alcohol. She muttered a few choice words then smiled at Catherine. “Maybe I could help clear the table, since we all seem to be finished.”
“Are you really going to do this spread? I mean not to speak out of turn, but part of the charm of Summerville is we’re kind of low-key. The attention from your magazine might bring more than we want.”
“I’m very good at what I do. And it’s all in how you handle the spread. Will Summerville see more activity? Of course, but a small town getting revenue from tourists is never a bad thing. I won’t be advertising Hank’s address won’t even be showing the whole property, just teases. And at the end of the day, it’s Hank’s decision and he’s made it.”
Henry pushed his plate aside, leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “No disrespect, Ms. Haywood, but we’ve lived in th
is town for thirty-six years and Catherine knows what she’s talking about.” Catherine sat up straighter and if she had feathers, she would have ruffled them at her husband’s endorsement. He finished with, “Maybe this is a matter that should be brought to the council.”
Arissa reached for her water, took a sip to find a bit of calm. Funny how this conversation waited until the one it actually impacted wasn’t in the room. She turned her attention on Henry. “We can certainly take it to council.” She leaned back in her chair. “But given the statistics of what kind of money we’re talking about flowing into your local economy, there’s no chance the council would vote against it.” She then turned hard eyes on Catherine. “But considering your son has already agreed, it seems to me this is undermining him and his decision. I am quite certain that isn’t your intention.”
Catherine huffed and glanced over at Henry speaking to him as if Arissa wasn’t there. “City girls, always thinking about money.” Then she looked at Arissa and spoke firmly. “Are you saying we don’t know what’s best for our Hank?” Catherine let out a sarcastic chuckle before she sat back in her chair. Her eyes held Arissa’s when she shot at her, “Oh, are you a mom too?”
If she wasn’t Hank’s mother… Arissa took a deep breath because what she wanted to do was walk out, but she wouldn’t do that to Hank. She sought for calm, and was careful not to bite out her next words. “No, I’m not a mother. I’m simply stating he’s already made the decision. He says he doesn’t want the spread done, I won’t do it.” She let a little heat in her tone when she added, “But I answer to Hank and only Hank.”
“Who only answers to me?” Hank asked loudly when he walked into the room holding two bottles of beer. He handed one to Arissa with a smile.
“Oh, you’re back, Honey.” His mom rose and started collecting the plates on the table. “Arissa, would you be a dear and help me clear.” She smiled wide at her then added, “I heard the apple crumb cake from Dehlia’s was your favorite, so I got one for dessert.” Catherine looked up at Hank who smiled at his mom for making his girl feel special.
Arissa’s jaw dropped for the second time that night, her eyes burned with frustration at the two faces of Catherine Weathers, but two could play that game. She smiled even wider. “Of course, Catherine, and thank you so much for thinking of me.” Arissa stood, grabbed a plate, walked to Hank, took the bottle of beer and downed the whole fucking thing. She glanced back at the three in the room. “That hit the spot.” Then walked into the kitchen.
“Our pleasure,” Catherine shouted to a retreating Arissa then turned to Hank. “What a lovely woman. A drinker.” She rolled her eyes and finished, “But a sweet one, Honey.”
“Thanks, Ma,” Hank chuckled.
Arissa had been on her way back into the dining room when she heard Catherine talking to Hank. To say the evening had been a disaster was fair, but it wasn’t just about a clashing of personalities. The Belles had said Catherine was overprotective, but the shit she’d pulled on Arissa, lying about Phoebe and tonight, this was more. Arissa didn’t know what fueled the woman’s behavior, and had it been anyone else she’d have scratched them off, but Arissa loved Hank, and he loved his mother. For him, she’d figure out what was bothering her and make it right.
* * *
Hank lifted one hand and palmed Arissa’s tit, his thumb rubbing her hard nipple while his other went to her hip where his fingers dug into the soft flesh. “Fuck, that’s it,” he groaned when she picked up the pace. He could tell by her labored breaths, glaze in her eyes that she was getting close. “Find it, Baby.”
Arissa moved faster, her head fell back as the tingles started, right before the orgasm overtook her. “Fuck, yes,” ripped from her throat.
Hank watched the beauty of Arissa while she rode out her orgasm. Giving her a minute before he did an ab curl, tagged her around the waist and rolled them dropping her on her back. Hank lifted to his knees and drove deep and hard. With every plunge into Arissa’s pussy, her moans grew louder while his groans rumbled up from his chest. Hank felt his release coursing through his body, the warmth growing into heat as it settled in his balls and shot up his shaft. He withdrew from Arissa and grabbed his wet cock and began stroking it, seconds before the first jet of cum shot out and landed on Arissa’s belly.
“That is fucking hot as hell,” she whispered in a husky voice.
He kept up slowly milking his cock until he had no more to give; his eyes never left hers. He winked and with a heavy voice said, “Watching you ride my cock is fucking hot, Baby.”
She ran her finger through his cum before she brought it to her mouth, smiled then licked it off. “Tastes good too.”
Seeing that, Hank’s cock twitched in his hand. “Jesus,” he grumbled then took a finger and ran it through her wet folds, her eyes went dark and a soft sound hummed in the back of her throat. He brought it to his mouth and sucked the digit inside, the sweet tangy juice of her burst on his tongue causing another twitch of his cock. He whispered deeply, “Sure does.”
Arissa couldn’t take her eyes from him, the sight he made. God, she was completely hooked and it was because she was that some of the happiness faded remembering the evening they’d spent with his parents.
Hank rolled off the bed and started for the bathroom. “Saw the look change, Sweetheart, gonna talk about that after we clean up.”
He disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a wet washcloth and cleaned her. Hank went back to the bathroom and tossed the cloth into the hamper, took a piss and returned to Arissa. When he joined her under the covers, he pulled her to him. She settled in and wrapped an arm around his waist.
“Wanna share what’s on your mind?” Hank whispered while playing with the brown strands of her hair spread across his chest. Arissa tensed and Hank mumbled, “Wow, that didn’t feel good.”
She glanced up at him, and couldn’t help the smile because no one ever knew her as well as he did and they were only just getting started. She didn’t want to ruin the beauty of the moment, but letting her thoughts fester wasn’t a good idea, either. It was a fine line because it was Hank’s mom and she barely knew the woman. She decided to share what was bothering her the most at the moment. “Your parents have serious concerns about the spread.” She lifted her gaze to his. “I won’t do it, but like I told them, it’s your decision.”
Hank tried to rub the worry from Arissa’s forehead with his thumb, watched the wrinkles smooth out and said, “They’ve lived the small town life for…” He paused, gave it thought and continued, “My whole life, Baby. They just like to keep to themselves. They’ll get on board with it.”
Arissa didn’t think it was just the small town life. His parents had been aggressive, his mother downright hostile and insulting. How did she say that to him? Not easily, so she didn’t and instead asked, “I was looking at the pictures your mom has around the house.” She didn’t share that she thought it a little odd how many pictures there were of him. “You were a really cute kid.” She glanced up and grinned. “Not surprising considering how you turned out. So tell me, what’s your favorite beach? I saw a few pics of you in the backyard in a sandbox, adorable pictures, but I’d like to see you now on the beach, all hot and tan.” She grinned again. “Maybe we could skip out for a weekend. I’ve not been to the beaches around here in a long, long time.”
Hank looked up, his eyes following the white border of the tray ceiling. A vivid memory popped into his head and without thought he started talking. “Only remember going to the beach once when I was around five, maybe six, and we were there for about an hour before my dad scooped me up and just about ran to the car while my mom quickly packed up the blanket.” Silence followed that confession, the air suddenly felt heavy, but Hank forged on. “Sal had given me a bright red bucket to take with me, my mom was in such a rush she left it there.” He paused. “Now that I think back on it, she left my blue truck too. On our way home, I
asked why we were leaving.” Hank chuckled. “Well, I cried why are we leaving and Mom had said nasty weather was coming but I don’t remember any storm hitting Summerville.” Hank shrugged. When Arissa stayed quiet Hank went on. “Noah, my best friend all through school, when we graduated, we, and a few guys and girls, had plans to go to Myrtle Beach but Mom got sick so I didn’t go.”
Unease moved through Arissa listening to Hank. Why hadn’t his parents taken him back to the beach? She could tell just from his voice that he’d loved it, as little time as he’d spent there, so why not bring him back? For parents that were as protective as them, so focused on their son’s happiness it seemed kind of contrary. She hadn’t realized she intended to speak that thought out loud until she heard the words tumbling out. “They never took you back?”
Hank started playing with Arissa’s hair again, looping strands around his fingers, watching the movement. “No, not that I remember. But when I was sixteen I fell off Noah’s brother’s four-wheeler, hit my head. Nothing bad, no blood but my mom told me I had a concussion and that some of my memories were erased.”
She moved then, lifted up on her elbow. “You hit your head that hard?” Her eyes moving over him. “Where?”
Hank’s hand dropped to his side when Arissa rose so quickly. He looked into her concerned eyes. “No, no,” he pressed. “Not hard enough to leave a bump and it was on the side of my head. But Ma took me to the doc, and she told me he said I had a concussion and it was possible that I could lose some of my memories.” Hank shrugged as his eyebrows lifted. “And that’s why I don’t remember much of my childhood.”
She was only partly teasing when she said, “As sheriff I imagine you’ve gotten into more than a few rows with people. Surprised your memories weren’t jarred back into place.”
Hank chuckled at Arissa’s comment, but still thinking about places to visit he confessed, “Noah went to school out in Tennessee. Went out there to visit him after I turned twenty-one. It was fucking beautiful but I had to cut my trip short cause Dad got sick.” Hank let that little memory sit with him before he said, “I’d like to go back there.”
