Chasing Hannah (Billingsley Book 2)

by Melissa Ellen

  “Han,” I whispered her name as I crawled next to her. I laid on my side, elbow tucked under my head, staring at her beautiful face through the dark. I wanted all of my nights to end this way—her in my bed, sleeping peacefully. I ran my knuckles lightly down her cheek, gently pressing a kiss to her forehead, careful not to wake her. Using my arm, I tucked her into my side before closing my own eyes.

  “How’d it go with Hannah?” Wes asked, walking up beside me as I poured my second cup of coffee.

  Grams sure knew how to make a damn good cup of joe.

  She had a whole setup for us early this morning: coffee, juice, and homemade breakfast tacos of various kinds.

  I gave him a sideways glance, then shook my head with a smile, pressing the lid back onto my travel cup. “That’s none of your business, man.”

  “I wasn’t asking for the details of your sex life, Miller. Just wondering how she took the news of moving out of my place. She’d been fightin’ mad the first time I told her she was moving.”

  I took a sip, hiding my smirk. “I’d be too if I had to live with the likes of you.”

  He scoffed a chuckle, lifting the carafe to pour himself a cup. “I see how it is. Gone and got yourself a pretty city girl and now you’re getting cocky. Don’t forget who writes your checks, buddy.”

  It was my turn to scoff. “When you remember. You still owe me one.”

  “Maybe if you hadn’t taken off so fast that day, you’d have it in your hands already.”

  “Let’s not go there, man.” I clapped his shoulder as I walked off to where Wes’s dad, Beau, and the rest of the boys stood. Even knowing the truth about that day, what I’d walked up on was a sore subject for me.

  I spent the rest of my day secluded in a combine, my music playing through the headphones of my phone as I plowed through the rows of wheat with only a grain truck traveling alongside me. I’d had a permanent smile on my face since leaving Hannah asleep in my bed this morning. I’d left her a key to my place with a note on my nightstand, hoping she’d see it as soon as she woke up. Once the sun had been up for a few hours, I couldn’t resist the urge to send her a text any longer.

  B: Morning, blondie. How’d ya sleep?

  I waited impatiently for her response, the gray bubble with three dots taunting me.

  H: Like a rock. Your bed is freaking comfortable.

  H: Sorry I passed out on you.

  B: Nothing to be sorry about. Besides, figure you’ll be making it up to me tonight.

  H: If you’re meaning a massage and a blow job, I can handle that. If you’re expecting a meal, you might be disappointed.

  B: Not much of a cook, huh?

  H: That’s putting it nicely.

  B: Good thing I am, then.

  H: I knew there would be a good reason to keep you around ;)

  H: Ugh…Mrs. Fitzgerald just walked in. I’m being beckoned. See you at home, cowboy.

  Home. I liked how that sounded coming from her.

  Beaten down from the sun and a long day of work, I climbed the stairs to my second-story apartment. My body ached and my stomach rumbled, but the first thing on my list to do was kiss my woman, then maybe a shower and food before taking her to bed.

  I opened the door to the smell of something burning and the sound of profanity flying out of that sweet mouth. I slammed the door closed, rushing to the kitchen, where she was standing in front of the sink.

  “Shit,” she huffed, turning on the faucet, smoke and steam billowing up from whatever she was extinguishing.

  I rubbed at the scruff along my jaw with a wide smile on my face, taking in the whole scene—her in my kitchen, attempting to make what I assumed was dinner for us.

  “You all right there, blondie?” I came up behind her, snaking my arms around her small waist as I kissed her bare shoulder I was peering over. “What’s that?” I wrinkled my nose at the pot filled with a thick, black substance.

  “That was dinner.” Her shoulders deflated with defeat as she stared at it too.

  “I thought you didn’t cook.”

  “I don’t. But obviously, I felt the need to prove my point.”

  I chuckled, spinning her around in my arms. I ran a hand up her spine to her neck, tangling my fingers in her thick hair before pulling her mouth to mine, taking the kiss I’d been anxious for all day.

  She sighed into my embrace, her arms hugging me close as she pressed the side of her face to my chest. “I just thought maybe I’d give it a shot again. I called my mom to get what was supposed to be an easy recipe.”

  This woman…she had no idea how much just the thought she wanted to cook for me was enough. I was a simple man. I didn’t need much, nor expect much. If she only knew coming home, finding her there waiting for me in that short, flowy dress, barefoot and comfortable, was more than I could’ve ever prayed for.

  “What was it?”

  “Spaghetti sauce. Jarred even.”

  I did what I could to hide my laugh, but the silent chuckle shook my whole body that she was pressed flush against. She swatted at my pec, stepping out of my embrace to throw away what appeared to be soggy, overcooked spaghetti noodles.

  “Well, now what?” She faced me with her hands on her hips, glancing around the kitchen as if dinner would magically appear.

  “I’ll order a pizza before jumping in the shower.”

  “No, I’ll do it. It’s the least I can do after nearly burning down your apartment complex. What kind do you want?” She walked to the counter, picking up her phone.

  Stepping in front of her, I dropped one more kiss on her lips. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to get my fill of her lips, but I was going to do my best. “Surprise me,” I whispered in her ear before nipping at it with my teeth.

  I turned toward the bathroom, stripping my shirt off as I went.

  “Tease!” she yelled after me.

  “You like it!” I quipped, grinning like a damn fool as I heard her laughter from the other room.

  I sat on the couch, Hannah’s pink toes pulled into my lap as she laid back on the other end, the half-empty pizza box opened on the coffee table in front of us.

  “Okay, my turn,” she said, taking another bite of supreme pizza. We’d spent the last hour learning what we could about each other, all the little details, while eating our dinner.

  “All right, shoot. What do ya wanna know now?”

  “Hmm…okay. Who was your first kiss?”

  I laughed. My head fell back to rest on the back of the couch as I rubbed small circles on her ankles with my thumbs, thinking about being an awkward teen boy trying to score his first kiss, among other things. “Sarah Hamilton.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “How old were you? How did you do it? Was she your first girlfriend? Was it good?”

  “Geez, you really want to know?”

  “Yeah. I want all the details.”

  I raised my brow skeptically as I rotated my head to look at her. “All right. She wasn’t my girlfriend, but I wanted her to be. I was fifteen and she was fourteen. She was an early bloomer and had these boobs—”

  “Yep. Nope. Never mind.” She tossed her half-eaten slice back into the box.

  I chuckled, gliding my hand up her leg, giving it a light squeeze above her knee. I shifted my weight, crawling between her legs as she spread them open for me. Hovering over her body, I stared down into those rich eyes. “You jealous, blondie?”

  “Of a fourteen-year-old girl who got the awkward fifteen-year-old version of you?”

  I nodded.

  “Not a chance. I prefer the man you are now.” She linked her fingers at the back of my neck. “It’s your turn, aren’t you going to ask me about mine?”

  “Hell no. The last thing I want to do is think about another guy touching you, awkward teen boy or not.”

  “You expected me to stay an innocent virgin all these years?”

  “No. But doesn’t mean I have to think about what you did with othe
r men before me.”

  Or what she’d be doing with men after me. The truth of that thought was a sharp stab to my chest. I wasn’t going to be her first or her last and that whole thing was a punch in the gut.

  “Hey? Where’d you go?”

  I blinked away the dark tunnel I was starting to fall into and looked back at the lightness in her eyes.

  “Nowhere. I’m right here, baby.” And I would be for as long as she let me.

  I kissed her lips, then sat back on my knees, pulling her up with me. I stood from the couch and slipped my arms under and around her body, cradling her into my chest.

  She lifted an eyebrow, and I smirked as I walked her down the hall to the bedroom. “You owe me. I’m collecting.”

  With one hand still holding my neck, she used the other to cover her mouth as she exaggerated a fake yawn through her smile. “I’m feeling kind of sleepy.”

  I laid her down on the bed, beaming like a lovesick fool as I crawled over her. “No worries. I’ve got just the thing to wake you up.” I thrusted my hips between her legs.

  She laughed. “Well, hello there, cowboy. It’s about time you showed up.”

  She slid her hands down my torso, her fingers easily working open the button to my jeans as I kissed down her neck. She dipped her hand inside my briefs, wrapping it around the stiff wood I’d been sporting for days. As she began to stroke her hand up and down, I thought I was going to blow my load right then. No fucking way was I letting that happen.

  I lifted my head, snatching her wrist to a stop. I yanked it from my pants, pinning it to the pillow next to her head. Her eyes shot to mine, a knowing grin on her face.

  “My rules. My way,” I grated as I tried to cool down the heat coursing through me.

  Her chest rose and fell with her heavy breathing as she sat up, forcing me back to my knees with a gentle push of her hand. With her eyes locked on mine, her hands coasted up the top of her thighs, lifting the hem of her dress as they went and pulling it over her head. She tossed it to the floor before attentively unclasping her bra and discarding it also.

  Leaning back onto the palms of her hands, she put herself on display for me, her lips parted, her tongue swiping over them. “Then quit torturing me, cowboy, and get on with it.”

  Whatever restraint I was fighting to hold onto was gone as fast as her clothes. I shed my own like a man starved, a man desperate for this woman’s touch, her warmth. Sheathing myself in a condom, I moved back between her wide-open legs. Taking her tiny foot in my hand, I kissed at the inside of her ankle, working my way up her inner leg to the warm apex that was already wet and ready.

  Her body shivered as she released a greedy whimper. I smiled, my heart pounding like a beating drum, feeling like the man for making this headstrong woman fall apart with just my touch.

  “Billy, please…” With the upward thrust of her hips, I slipped my fingers into the sides of her panties, sliding them down her silky-smooth legs.

  I licked between her legs. Another plea ripped from her lips, her nails digging into my hair. Refusing to torture either of us any more, I moved to hover over her, fisting my cock as I lined myself up with her body. Her eyes fell closed, her breathing harsh and rapid as she anticipated my first thrust.

  Holding my weight on one arm, I pushed aside the hair from her cheek. “Look at me, Han,” I demanded, needing to see the light in her eyes, needing her to see how this was more to me than just the physical.

  Her eyes fluttered open and as they connected with mine I pushed into her warm folds, a hiss on my lips as I felt that sensation of finally being inside her. Tight and perfect.

  “Fuck,” I growled as I stilled so we could both adjust, reminding myself not to take her the way my body was begging me to right then. She deserved more than a hard, emotionless fuck.

  Her legs wrapped around my hips as she kissed along my throat, urging me to move.

  I towered over her, my muscles flexing with the strain, so I could watch her come undone beneath me. I began to thrust slow and steady. I kissed her lips, her neck, her tits, giving every section of her beautiful body the attention it deserved. As I felt her body build to its climax, I picked up my pace, driving harder and deeper, helping us both over that edge.

  Our bodies tensed and convulsed with the sounds of grunts and moans echoing in the room, accompanied by our heavy breathing. I rolled from her body to my back, pulling her with me.

  Sprawled out on top of me, she dotted my sticky hot skin with her soft lips. “That was so not worth the wait,” she lied through her grin.

  I tickled her side and she squirmed with a light laugh. My eyes fell closed, a giant smile on my face as I glided my hand across the backs of her shoulders.

  She sighed, content and relaxed, as she started to drift off to sleep. I pressed a kiss to her head before slipping out from under her to dispose of the condom. Climbing back into bed, I tugged her lifeless body to me, that crazy feeling from our first time together working its way back in, the one that wanted to make her mine for forever. The one I knew was nothing but fucking madness.

  12

  HANNAH

  Friday morning, I rolled over to my back, my hand blindly searching the bed for Billy, even though I knew he’d be long gone. He rose before the sun, and the sun was already filtering through the blinds, casting light across the room.

  I gave my aching limbs a good stretch before sitting up onto my elbows to look around. The sheets smelled of his minty eucalyptus soap, and I sort of wished I could just stay wrapped up in them all day until he came home to me.

  He’d spent every evening with me after work, focusing his full attention on me, making what felt like love to me, holding me tight afterwards until we both fell asleep. I’d felt like I’d been wandering around aimlessly lately, with my career up in the air, but for some reason, when I was with Billy I felt anything but lost.

  Another piece of folded paper sat on the nightstand with my name written across the front of it. A giddy grin pulled at my mouth as I picked it up, the butterflies already swarming my stomach before I’d even read his words. I flipped it open, settling my head back on the pillow.

  Morning blondie,

  Sorry I can’t be here when you wake up. Leaving your side every morning is the worst part of my day. But on the plus side, knowing I get to come home to you at night is the best part and gives me something to look forward to. See you tonight, sweetheart.

  P.S. Don’t worry about dinner tonight. I think it’s in everyone’s best interest you leave that to me.

  I laughed, holding the note at my belly as I did. My heart ached a little when I realized the number of future nights with him were dwindling. Lottie and Tucker would return home this evening, and there’d be no reason for me to extend my stay any longer.

  Technically, I had nowhere to be, but I wasn’t sure how he’d feel about me staying with him for no other reason than just to be with him. And what would that do to us in the end, when I finally had to return home? It seemed like a longer stay with Billy would end up a blessing and a curse, only making things harder when it was over.

  I sighed, turning onto my side, my thoughts quickly spiraling. I was in deep shit. I was more than just wrapped up in his sheets. I was wrapped up in Billy Miller entirely. I’d claim ignorance if I could, saying I hadn’t expected him to steal my heart the way he had. But I couldn’t. I did this to myself—to the both of us—knowing the ending before it even started.

  I pulled myself out of bed to get ready for my last day of work, tucking the note into my suitcase with the others he’d left me over the last few mornings before heading to the bathroom for a shower. Though I’d prefer to be waking up to the man, the notes had become my favorite part of starting the day. They were like little souvenirs. A small piece of Billy I could take back with me to Seattle.

  My phone rang in the distance as I stepped out of the steamy shower. I quickly grabbed a towel, sprinting back to the bedroom, barely missing it as it switched over to my
voicemail. I scrolled through the missed-call log, noting it was a Seattle number. As soon as I received the notification, I listened to the voicemail.

  I jumped up and down with a little squeal, spinning in a circle.

  An interview. I have an interview!

  The prospect sent a thrill through my entire body. It was the one company I’d been really hoping to get a call from. A buyer position, instead of the assistant position I’d previously been in.

  I flopped backwards onto the bed, catching my breath as my heart calmed after my little one-person dance party.

  Oh. Oh, god.

  My excitement slowly faded as it hit me.

  That meant I’d for sure be leaving Sunday.

  “How did dinner go the other night?” my mom asked.

  I tucked the phone between my shoulder and ear as I went through the process of locking the storefront door and shutting down most of the lights in the store. The day had flown by and now I was closing up shop for the last time. It was almost bittersweet.

  “Uh, it didn’t. I somehow managed to burn it.”

  “Oh, Hannah. It’s a good thing you have brains and good looks,” she teased.

  “Jeez. Thanks, Mom. Love you, too,” I retorted with a sarcastic huff.

  She snickered on the other end of the line. “When do I get to meet the young man?”

  Her question caught me off guard, stalling my feet mid-stride. “Um…I doubt you ever will. It’s not that serious between us.” Even saying those words left a bitter taste on my tongue and a void in my chest.

  She scoffed. “Hannah, you tried to cook for the man.”

  My head fell back with a repressed sigh, not wanting to acknowledge what we both already knew, what I refused to admit. I just hoped the old saying wasn’t true, that the best way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. Because if that was the case, I was screwed. I’d be a lonely old hag until my dying days.

  “Well, if I didn’t scare him off with my cooking, I’m sure I’ll find another way to.”