The Kissing Season

by Rachael Johns

  Yes, that’s what he wanted. That was usually his line, so why were his insides twisting unpleasantly at the knowledge that this thing had an expiration date? Hannah was different from the women he’d slept with in the past. Generally an attraction was established, an offer of fun and frivolity laid out on the table, and it was taken pretty damn quick. He only ever slept with women who thought the same way, and even though Hannah said she did, something about her confession didn’t sound convincing. She’d taken too damn long to come to him.

  “Am I wrong?” She spoke again, her voice wary. “Do you want more?”

  “No.” He rushed to set her straight, not wanting second thoughts to creep into her head. Or his. Of course he didn’t want more, so why the hell was he wasting precious time thinking it all through? They were on the same page. It was time to take advantage of that.

  Without another word, he made contact again, his lips on hers as he scooped her up against him. She sighed and wrapped her legs around his torso, pressing the juncture between her thighs on the erection threatening to burn a hole in his jeans.

  Somehow he made it up the stairs, his eyes open but all his energies focused on making out. On tasting the gift he couldn’t wait to unwrap. They stumbled into the room that would become his mother’s (he tried not to think about that) and tumbled onto the bed they’d tested only days ago. This time he planned to take the testing to a whole other level.

  They’d barely made contact with the mattress when she reached up and pulled his head back down. She kissed him this time, flicking her tongue almost ferociously between her lips as if he were a three-course meal and she’d been fasting for months. He heard a thud, quickly followed by another and realized she’d kicked her sandals off and the noise was them slamming against the wall.

  As the direction to take his own shoes off traveled from his brain to his fingers, Hannah got things going. He was usually in control of sex, but she had him off-kilter, her hands on the waistband of his shorts, yanking them down. He gasped as she slipped her fingers beneath his jocks and cupped him where it mattered.

  “Whoa.” He took a breath. And then another. He was hot and turned on and hard and he wanted all the material between them banished. He was ready; he could slip inside her right this second and ride himself to the best damn orgasm of his life, but he wanted her to be as wet, writhing and desperate as him. Sitting up slightly, he turned her over, making it obvious he was taking back the reins. Within seconds he had her pants and underwear on the floor; her shirt and bra followed quickly.

  The grin on her face as she lay on the unmade mattress completely naked was a turn-on itself. Not that he needed any encouragement. He hesitated only a moment, unsure where to start and whether to touch or taste her first. And then he just went for it. His fingers ran the gauntlet from her mouth down her neck, over her stomach and right between her legs, and he followed the trail with scorching kisses. He felt her warmth before he touched it, before he tasted it. He slipped his tongue inside her, smiled when within moments she cried out, arched off the bed and shuddered into his mouth.

  If he’d thought women sexy in the past, he’d been wrong. The way Hannah reacted to him was the most arousing thing he’d ever seen. He was kidding himself if he could keep this up. Just one time he needed to completely let go. When they did it again, then he’d take things real slow.

  Climbing back up her body, he lowered himself down and slipped inside. And oh God, she was ready! She felt good. Hot. Slippery. Maybe better than any woman had ever felt before. Her body clenched around his cock and for one second he thought he might just die of pleasure.

  And then she stiffened. Her hands came up against his chest, pushing him off her. He blinked open his eyes, wondering what the hell was wrong, and saw she was crying. Big, noisy tears dripping down her cheeks.

  “I can’t do this,” she sobbed up at him. “It’s wrong. I should never have come.”

  “Wrong?” Until two seconds ago, nothing had ever felt so right.

  “I’m pregnant!”

  His erection drooped, the desire fleeing. If he’d had nightmares about a woman dropping this bombshell, it had never been like this. “What the hell?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  HANNAH ROLLED OFF the bed, her heart pounding as she scrambled on the floor looking for her clothes. Her body buzzed with what she’d just experienced—what would only have been the tip of a very pleasurable iceberg—but she hadn’t been able to go through with it.

  Capris. Yes. Top. Thank you, God. But where the hell was her underwear? As she gathered up what clothes she could find, she fought the urge to turn around and look at Matt. She could only imagine the anger he might be feeling right this second. Just thinking about what she’d done to him, how shabbily she’d treated him when he’d been nothing but honest with her, had her stomach twisting in disappointment. Deciding to forgo undies and bra and simply get dressed as fast as possible was one thing, but her lungs ached with struggling to breathe, and the coordination needed to dress herself had gone AWOL.

  “Hannah.” He spoke for what seemed like the first time in ages but could be no longer than half a minute.

  She shut her eyes, preparing for a barrage of anger or at least a few choice names for what he thought of her, but nothing of the sort came.

  “Here.” As the two scraps of material that made up her underwear appeared outstretched toward her, she realized Matt had climbed off the bed and come to her. She dared not look at him as she took his offering, mumbled a “thank you” and somehow managed to fix the items where they were supposed to go. Her underwear in place, she took a quick breath and pulled her capris and shirt on as well. Behind her she heard shuffling of what sounded like Matt dressing, but her cheeks burned red and she still couldn’t bring herself to turn around.

  “I guess that’s why you didn’t want the beer,” he said eventually.

  She tried to decipher the tone of his voice—irritation, sadness, amusement, something else? He had every right to feel angry with her; she’d been a selfish bitch.

  “I’m sorry, Matt.” She turned slightly, dared to look into his face. And damn, it was gorgeous. Even without his roguish smile, he could be the poster boy for toothpaste, aftershave or diet soft drinks. How could she begin to tell him that she’d wanted some of that? Just one last time before she became a mother, Miss Responsible, she wanted to do something for her. Something that made her knees buckle and her feminine core rejoice.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  She found herself giggling because no man had ever asked her such a question, not even Larry. About to make a joke of this, she bit down on the reactive reply and shook her head. “Not really, but I guess I owe you some kind of explanation.”

  “You don’t owe me anything.” He folded his arms across his chest and glanced toward the door.

  Yes, she could see now there was anger simmering in his eyes. “I do owe you an apology. I should have told you about the baby straightaway.”

  He nodded. “When I first asked you out might have been a good idea. I can guarantee that would have been all you needed to have said to get to me to back off.”

  “Maybe I didn’t want you to back off.” She let her head fall into her hands and contemplated making a run for it. “Oh God, I’m so messed up. I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy hormones, but just looking at you makes my toes curl and my body temperature skyrocket. I reckon I’d have managed to fight it if you hadn’t gone and kissed me. Twice. Once I’d experienced the power of your lips, I wanted more.”

  “So this is my fault?” he asked, his voice ringing with skepticism.

  “Yes, dammit. If you weren’t so sexy, so persistent, I’d never have thrown myself at you in such a manner.” Her chest heaved. That was a slight lie—that was exactly the type of thing she’d have done in the past, but things had changed. She
’d managed to remember that at the eleventh hour. “So sue me, I like sex and I wanted to have some with you.”

  He raised his eyebrows, but didn’t smile. “I don’t know whether to feel used and abused by that statement or flattered.”

  She sighed. “Please, go with the flattery and we’ll call it a day. This hasn’t been one of my better moments and I’d like to put it behind me.” Thank the Lord her family would never find out.

  When he didn’t say anything, she made a quick dash for her thongs and began to shove them on her feet. The sooner she was out of here the better.

  “Where’s the father?” he asked as she started toward the door.

  It was none of his business, but his voice wasn’t callous. In fact, he sounded concerned and she found herself telling him. “In Vegas. Kids weren’t on his agenda. We parted ways.”

  “Is he doing the right thing? Paying his way?”

  “If he can’t give us love, we don’t need his money.” Instinctively she placed a hand on her belly, the intense love for her unborn child washing over her. Never in her life had she wanted to succeed at something like she wanted to at motherhood. She wanted to prove to her family that she could be sensible and grounded. As hard as pushing Matt away had been, she looked upon it as the first step in putting her baby’s needs before her own. In proving herself.

  “Fair enough, but I can’t help wanting to pummel the guy into a post. It takes two to make a baby.”

  “Yes, it does. But luckily it only takes one very good parent to raise it and I plan on being the best.”

  “I don’t doubt that, Hannah.” He took a step toward her and her heart jumped as he glanced down at the hand still resting on her barely there baby bump. “You know, this doesn’t have to change anything between us. I’m not staying in town, I can’t be a father, but the more I think about it, I’m okay with scratching your itch. I’ve never had sex with a pregnant woman before but I’m prepared to make an exception where you’re concerned, Hannah Elliot.”

  As laughter bubbled within her at his frank offer, her eyes lowered of their own accord and ogled the impressive package encased in his board shorts. She thought about how it had felt to have Matt inside her; her desire rose again and she wanted more than anything to take him up on this very attractive offer.

  It was, after all, just sex. Between two consenting adults, and it didn’t have to mean any more.

  “Hannah?” He touched his thumb ever so gently to her chin and lifted her face so their gazes met. She saw red-hot desire in his pupils, but there was something extra. Something deeper and more real between them than she’d ever felt before. He’d been tender with her when most men would have wanted to throttle her for such deception. The house they were standing in now, he’d bought for his mother. He’d shared her hot dog with her, watched kids unwrap Christmas presents, tried on silly things and made her laugh more than any guy she could remember. And although he’d made his desire blatant, he’d never once tried to push her into anything.

  She’d had a few boyfriends in the past few years, but she’d never felt so drawn to a man until now. The thought made her feel lousy and stupid because she’d gone and married Larry the Loser on a whim, but it also made her wary. She didn’t know if she could just have sex with Matt. With him, she feared she wouldn’t simply be handing over her body for a couple of hours; she might inadvertently be handing over her heart.

  And that was something she couldn’t risk. Not now.

  “Oh, Matt.” A lump formed in her throat at the thought of what she was turning down. If the sparks between them were any hint, they’d burn up the sheets but... “As tempting as your offer is, it wouldn’t be right. I think I should leave.”

  His shoulders dropped and disappointment was etched in every line on his amazing face. She longed to stretch out her hands and smooth her fingers across his cheeks, but touching him wasn’t a good idea. Finally, he shrugged and smiled a little. “Worth a try. Now, let me give you a ride back to the shop.”

  “No, it’s fine—I’ll walk.” Despite their little chat, being in such a confined space with him would be downright awkward.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s at least a half an hour walk back into town, and aren’t you supposed to be working this afternoon?”

  She wanted to argue but he was right. Besides, she’d already turned him down where it hurt; the least she could do was swallow her pride and accept a lift. With a nod, she said, “Thank you.”

  * * *

  HE PUT THE radio on for the short drive into town and although Hannah was thankful for something to fill the awkward silence, she couldn’t have told anyone what music played. Matteo Della Bosca still consumed her mind—she thought of what might have been if she’d bitten her tongue, or better still if she’d met him before Larry. She couldn’t be sad about the little bundle growing within her, but there was a special something about the man driving her back to the shop and part of her couldn’t help wishing circumstances were different.

  * * *

  MATT WATCHED AS Hannah crossed the short pathway and escaped into Elliot’s Emporium, and then he thumped the heel of his hand against the steering wheel, narrowly avoiding beeping the horn. A string of swear words he reserved for rare occasions thundered off his tongue, and as he pushed his foot onto the accelerator and eased the car back onto the road, he had one destination in mind. If he didn’t deserve a drink after the encounter he’d just had, he didn’t know what warranted one.

  Being the day before Christmas Eve, the local pub was buzzing with activity, and cheesy Christmas carols blasted from the ancient stereo. A group of women who looked as if they’d come to have a drink following an end-of-year work lunch glanced up, giggled and waved perfectly manicured fingers at him as he crossed the floor to order a beer. Under normal circumstances he’d flirt back with such a group, happy for the attention, but today he couldn’t summon any enthusiasm. His body was taut and unsatisfied after his near miss with Hannah, and he thought the only way he might get her out of his mind was by downing a number of tequila shots in quick succession. Unfortunately he wasn’t much of a tequila fan.

  He sighed as he leaned against the bar and waited for the bartender to approach him. Midforties, faded blond hair, wearing reindeer ears and looking like she’d rather be anywhere but here, she offered him a tired smile as she poured him a beer. She looked about as enthusiastic about Christmas as he was.

  “There ya are, luvvie.” She pushed his drink toward him, took his money and scooted off to serve someone else. Matt was glad of the peace as he knocked back the first few satisfying gulps and began to ponder what the hell had just happened to him. He felt like something had been cut short, and it wasn’t just the sex.

  Less than half an hour ago, he’d had Hannah Elliot naked and in his arms, and she’d felt better than any woman ever had before. There’d been seconds the last few days when alien thoughts had invaded his mind. He’d imagined coming back to Wildwood Point for longer than a couple weeks. He’d imagined maybe even buying a house, putting down some roots. His mum would drink a whole bottle of bubbly in celebration if she’d known he was even circling around thoughts of settling down but he couldn’t lie to himself—all these thoughts came down to Hannah. Since he’d first seen her behind the desk at the emporium, she’d burrowed under his skin and knocked him sideways into a world where commitment didn’t seem a dirty word.

  He shook his head at the irony—the one woman who had ever brought him close to thinking long-term came with baggage he could never take on. Pregnant. Who’d have thought? Strangely, the thought of her carrying another man’s baby hadn’t killed his desire at all, but maybe it was a good thing she’d turned him down. Although kids hadn’t featured in his five-year plan, he guessed he wanted them eventually but there was one thing he was absolutely certain about.

  After the way his stepfather had treate
d him, he could never bring himself to take on someone else’s child. His heart pounding in panic mode, Matt downed the last of his beer and decided to take his thoughts elsewhere. If there was one thing that would take his mind off Hannah it was Christmas shopping, and fortunately he still had a few gifts to buy.

  * * *

  HANNAH PEERED THROUGH the window as Matt drove away from Elliot’s, not caring whether or not he caught her doing so. He must already think her a total fruitcake, so what did it matter if she added pervert to that title? When his hired red convertible was finally lost in traffic, she returned to the desk and flopped into the swivel chair behind it. Thank God the showroom was empty except for Julie, the other assistant, who sat on one of the beds bestowing devout attention to her iPhone. Hannah had thought the other woman a little distant when they’d first met—she spent more time messaging people on Facebook than she did speaking to real humans—but today this didn’t bother her at all.

  As she scrounged in the bottom drawer for any half-eaten packets of candy she might have left there, the bell at the front door rang, alerting her to a potential client. She glanced up, hoping Julie might drag herself off social media and actually do her job. But all hopes of escaping interaction faded when Hannah recognized the visitor as Sarah. Armed with a warm grin and a Tupperware container, Matt’s mother plowed toward her like a woman on a mission.

  Hannah’s hands shook, which was ridiculous considering there was no way Sarah could have found out about her unfair treatment of her son so quickly. And as if that was the kind of thing a man like Matt would share with his mother anyway. Forcing her pathetic nerves aside, she closed the drawer and stood. She walked around the table to greet the woman who’d been a cleaner for her parents the last few years. She’d become a friend to all of them. It was hard not to fall in love with Sarah.