by Carrie Elks
She was fumbling at his buckle again, this time managing to get it undone before she grasped at the button on his fly, her fingers shaking as she tried to undo it. She could feel him smile against her skin as his hands moved down to help her, easily unfastening his pants and shucking them off his legs.
Moving back on top, he aligned his body with hers, and she could feel the prominent ridge of his erection through the fabric of their underwear as he rocked against her. At that moment all she could think of was the need to feel him inside of her.
“Richard please…”
She was rotating her hips against him, and he bent down to kiss her again. His right hand moved underneath her behind to cup it, to grind against her some more. “I need to—”
“Soon.”
He moved his lips down to a place on her neck, just beneath her jaw. It was so sensitive that she nearly squealed in delight. “Let me take care of you.”
Sitting back on his knees, he dragged his hands along the side of her body until he reached her panties, hooking his thumbs through them and pulling them down. As soon as they were off, he grasped her legs and pulled her toward him, his lips brushing against her inner thighs as he moved them up, until he could start to kiss and lick at her, making Hanna squirm at his touch. Letting her head fall back, she moved her hand down, her fingers tangling in his soft, thick hair as she felt him hum against her, the pleasure of the vibrations shooting through her core.
Just as he was bringing her to the edge, he pulled his mouth away, and through her half shut eyes she watched him lean down to grab a condom from the pocket of his discarded pants, and roll it on. Moving back to her, he aligned their bodies until he entered her with one smooth thrust of his hips, the sudden feeling of fullness causing her to tip over, her whole body stiffening in response to her orgasm. Her back arched against him as he held her close, kissing her madly as she gasped into his mouth.
“Fuuucckk.” That was Richard, because Hanna’s mind was so full she was finding it hard to remember her own name, let alone articulate any words.
“Sweetheart, are you ready?” he asked.
She nodded, unable to speak. Letting her fall back on the couch, he grasped her hips, his fingers digging into the soft skin as he started to move inside her, his lips never leaving hers, each move punctuated by a soft pant that made Hanna’s heart thud.
She moved her arms around him, hands clasping his ass, feeling the muscles flexing as he moved. She begged him to move faster, harder, as she pulled him against her. He was getting breathless, pulling his mouth away from her, to gasp for air. She got a good look at his expression, his green eyes dark with lust, his face betraying the pleasure he was feeling. Her body was still tingling, little bursts of ecstasy shooting down to her feet, making her toes curl in reaction.
“God, Hanna, I’m going to—”
“I want to feel you come.” Her words were just a whisper, but she wanted him to have it all, to feel as good as he’d made her feel. His movements became erratic and harsh, until he suddenly stopped, a deep moan releasing from his mouth. Crashing his weight down on hers, he kissed her hard as he thrust a couple more times.
Hanna held him tightly, unwilling to let him go, to let him withdraw from her when she was feeling so raw. As if he understood her vulnerability, he began to move his lips against her face, her neck, whispering sweet words as they slowly came back to reality. She ran her fingertips up and down his spine, loving the feeling of his body on hers, not caring that he was crushing her. She felt him slowly pull out of her, his lips still on her skin, his hand moving down to protect the condom.
“I need to take care of this.” He stood up, moving over to a door on the other side of the apartment that she could only assume led to the bathroom. Alone on his couch, she was aware of her nakedness, but couldn’t bring herself to put on her underwear and dress. She was unwilling to admit the evening was over. Instead she plucked his shirt from the pile of discarded clothes, slipping her arms into it and doing up a couple of buttons to maintain some semblance of modesty. The bathroom door clicked, and she looked up to see Richard approaching, a small white towel wrapped around his hips, a smile playing on his lips as his eyes darkened in response to her clothing.
“Nice shirt.”
“Thank you. Nice towel.”
“Thanks.” He was in front of her, pulling her up until she was firmly in his arms, his body cradling hers as he hugged her. He buried his face in her hair, and he mumbled, “I’ll go get you that cup of tea now.”
Ten
February 2nd 2004
“We seem to have all of our most romantic moments at airports.” Hanna buried her face in Richard’s shirt, her wet eyes mixing with her mascara until there was an inky stain on the white cotton.
“Not quite all,” he drawled, bringing his lips to hers. He brushed them softly, as he wiped away the moistness around her eyes. “I seem to remember that last night was pretty romantic.”
Hanna laughed. “You seem to be getting mixed up between romance and sex. The two aren’t mutually inclusive.”
“For us, they are.”
He kissed her again, this time without restraint, and her knees started to shake at the onslaught. The fact they were making a scene in the middle of Heathrow Airport didn’t matter. Every few weeks they had to go through this parting, and it hadn’t become any easier. As time passed, she was finding it hard to remember exactly why she was so opposed to moving to New York.
Then something would happen to bring her back to reality. Like the time he formally introduced her to his mother, and she received a very pointed cold shoulder. At those moments, she realized she really wasn’t cut out for life in Manhattan. The only part of New York she wanted to have anywhere near her was Richard.
His kisses were getting more demanding, and she felt him drop his bag and move his hands to her waist. His fingers dug in to her soft skin as he squeezed her through her black t-shirt, trailing his lips from her mouth to her neck. Her head dropped back, allowing him access to the sensitive flesh of her throat.
“If we’re not careful I’m going to end up doing a Justin on you,” he murmured. The previous night they had watched the Super Bowl and had both been in fits of giggles when Justin Timberlake had pulled Janet Jackson’s top down to reveal her nipple.
“If you don’t stop kissing me there, I’m going to let you.”
“You know, I’ve never watched football in the middle of the night before, but it had its advantages.” The sensation of his smile against her flesh told her he was remembering the way they made their own half time entertainment. And it didn’t involve nipple piercings.
“You’re going to be late,” her voice was still breathy.
“I know.” His hands were moving down her hips, back to cup her behind as she felt him responding to their embrace. It took every ounce of willpower she had to put her hands up and push him away.
“It’s going to take you forever to get through security.” She gestured over at the long queue of travellers, snaking around the airport. “Even American Airlines won’t wait for you if you’re late.”
Richard smirked and she narrowed her eyes at him, moving her hands in a shooing motion.
“I’ll call you from the lounge, okay?” He placed a kiss on her nose.
“And from the runway, then from JFK, your car, and your apartment…” she teased.
He leaned down and kissed her one last time. “I’ll see you in a month, okay?”
“I’m counting the hours.”
“You don’t have to count anything. Come with me now.” He said it every single time.
“I can’t.”
“There’s no such thing as can’t, baby. Just won’t.”
“Then move to London.” She was smiling through the tears, the familiarity of their interchange somehow grounding her.
“I want to—”
“But you can’t.” She finished his sentence for him and kissed his cheek one last time. “We’ll w
ork it out somehow.”
“We’ll have to because this is killing me.” He bent down to pick up his bag, noticing the black mascara stain on his shirt for the first time. His eyebrows rose as he looked at her pointedly.
“What?” She tried to look innocent, but the smile couldn’t help bursting through. “I was sad, so sue me.”
“Remind me to buy you some tissues next time.” His expression was soft as he looked at her.
“I’m leaving now.” She started to back away from him, waving briefly, her eyes never straying from his.
“Without a goodbye kiss?”
“What the hell do you think we’ve been doing for the last half hour?” Her eyebrows knitted together in a mock-frown, as she moved a couple steps farther back.
“That was just a warm up. Now I want the final goodbye kiss.”
THE FOLLOWING EVENING, Hanna rushed out of the Music Train offices on Wardour Street and into the humid Soho air. Being so close to the West End of London, the road was always thronging with people, and she followed them up toward Oxford Street, diving into the tube station along with the rest of the weekday commuters. As she stepped onto the stairwell, she felt her phone vibrate, and pulled it out of the pocket of her jeans to read the text.
Have I told you I miss you today?
She hurriedly tapped out a reply.
I’ve got five hours on you Larsen! I win in the missing stakes.
Taking the tube, she emerged from the station at Putney Bridge and into the cold night air. Her breath caused vapor clouds to appear in front of her as she hurried along the streets to her mum’s apartment. It felt like they hadn’t seen each other for a lifetime; either Hanna was away at a concert, or Diana was busy organizing an event. They’d agreed to meet that evening to catch up.
Her mother was waiting at the door when she walked up to the apartment, a big grin covering her face. She pulled Hanna to her in a huge embrace.
“Oh sweetie, it’s so good to see you.”
“You too, I can’t believe how long it’s been. We live in the same city, for God’s sake.”
“You’ve been busy, with work and Richard.” Diana winked, pulling her inside by the hand and closing the door behind them. As soon as Hanna stepped into the flat, she felt a calm, familiar feeling sweep over her. Everything about this place made her feel at home.
“I ordered beef in black bean sauce for you,” Diana called out as she walked into the small kitchen. “Do you want any prawn toasts?”
“Is the Pope a Catholic?” Hanna shouted back, standing up and following her mum so that she could offer to help. Diana glared at her, moving her hands in a shooing motion until Hanna got the hint, and walked back to the living room.
“How has work been?” Diana asked, her voice echoing slightly against the tiled floor of the kitchen.
“Great, I spent the day in the studio with a band recording their second album. They’ve gone all concept and spent most of the day playing me each track in order so I can understand their narrative.”
“I don’t think I understood a word of that.” Diana’s face was a mask of confusion.
“They’re trying to tell a story with each song. They rap about this guy losing a thousand pounds, and everything that happens, and then, in the final song, he finds it down the back of his TV.”
“Sounds riveting. When do I get to hear it?”
Hanna laughed out loud. Diana was a classicist, if by classics you meant Abba, Elton John, and Cliff Richard.
“It’s out in April. I’ll buy you a copy.”
“I can’t wait,” Diana said dryly, carrying two lap trays into the room, handing one to Hanna along with some chopsticks.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Hanna stared pointedly at Diana’s plate. Only a small helping of rice and an even smaller spoonful of chicken had been placed on the white china. Glancing up at her mum, Hanna saw her hollowed cheeks. “Bloody hell, Mum, how much weight have you lost?”
She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it as soon as she’d walked in through the door, but Diana had always looked the same to her—petite, perfectly proportioned, though maybe slightly heavier on the hips than on the chest. Whenever Hanna thought of her, she usually pictured her mother as being around 35 years old, still wearing the fashions of the mid-nineties, her unlined face smiling in delight at Hanna’s latest escapades.
Looking at her now, she could see that her face was lined, the skin drawn back across the bones. The shadows under her eyes were darker and more pronounced than usual.
Diana looked down at her plate, drawing her bottom lip in between her teeth in a move that seemed familiar. Hanna watched as a single tear dropped out of Diana’s left eye, falling onto the plate, bouncing slightly as it met the china surface.
“Mum, what’s wrong? You’re really worrying me now.” Hanna put her plate down on the side table and moved over, doing the same for Diana’s lap tray. Kneeling on the floor next to her mum’s legs, she took both of Diana’s hands in her own, squeezing them as she urged her mum to look at her.
“I’ve been at the hospital today. I don’t want you to panic, and I know it’s going to come as a shock, but I’ve found a lump in my breast, and they’ve taken it for a biopsy.”
The ground shot out from under Hanna’s feet, leaving her reeling and dizzy, her head trying and failing to make sense of the words. She shook it, the side-to-side movement not helping her sudden feeling of nausea.
“I said don’t panic, not yet.” Diana leaned forward and enveloped her in a warm embrace. “They’re pretty sure it’s cancer, but there are all sorts of tests and things they need to do before they can give me a prognosis.”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me this before?” A surge of anger rose up through Hanna’s chest. She wasn’t sure what she was mad about; whether it was her mother’s lack of sharing, the fact that cancer had invaded her mother’s body, or the whole world in general. She grabbed hold of the emotion and stayed with it, preferring it to the sensation of hopelessness she had felt only a moment before.
“I didn’t want to worry you until I knew for certain there was something wrong. It would have been awful to have you all twitchy and nervous like this, and for the lump to turn out to be a boil, or even worse, a figment of my imagination.”
“Have they told you what they think they can do; what treatment you can have? I wish I’d gone with you to the hospital today.” Spending the day listening to a guy rapping about losing his money seemed to be a poor substitute for supporting her mum in her hour of need.
“Sweetie, I have another appointment on Thursday, I’m hoping they’ll be able to tell me more then.” Diana squeezed her one last time. “Now go and eat your food before it gets cold.”
Eleven
November 30th 2004
Joe Garfield sat back in the leather captain’s chair, folding his arms across his suited chest. His chocolate-brown eyes surveyed Richard with interest. The lines around them deepened into furrows as he spoke. “You did well to make the decision so quickly, Richard. If you find a cancer growing, you have to cut it out before it has time to take hold.”
Richard winced at the mention of the disease. It seemed to be at the center of his and Hanna’s life. Not that the cancer Joe was referring to was of the medical kind. It was the discovery that the head of the Real Estate Division had been taking backhanders from a number of construction companies. Even so, hearing the word was enough to send Richard’s mind across the Atlantic.
Things hadn’t been so easy on this side of the pond, either. Firing half of the executive team in the Real Estate division hadn’t been his favorite job, and searching for their replacements was proving even more difficult. He had called the meeting with Joe to discuss their short-term plans.
“We need to build the division back up quickly,” Richard stood up and walked over to the large picture window that overlooked the financial district. “I’m going to appoint an interim head while we let the executive search team do t
heir job.”
“It sounds like a good plan to me.” Joe nodded his head as he looked at the organization chart that Richard had left on his desk. “We can’t afford to take our eye off the ball when it’s such a growth market.”
They’d had this conversation a number of times. They were both amazed at how real estate prices were increasing exponentially, and the over-inflation of land values had made them wary. Maxwell Enterprises had agreed on a strategy of investing in the short-term while keeping their eye on the market, ready to withdraw at short notice should a downturn threaten.
Richard’s biggest fear was by the time the crash arrived, it would be too late. He was trying to diversify the company’s interests as much as possible, but he wasn’t foolish enough to withdraw from such a lucrative part of his business.
That was why finding the right person to lead the division was so important.
“Have you heard from Daniel at all?” Joe glanced at the photograph of the Maxwell family that Richard kept on his desk, picking it up and rubbing his thumbs over the gilt frame.
“I managed to track him down to a resort near Miami. He’s adamant that he won’t go back into rehab, and there’s little we can do to make him.” Richard rubbed his head wearily. It had been a hell of a month, and it wasn’t looking like things were going to get much better.
“He’s becoming a big liability to this company,” Joe remarked, putting the frame back on Richard’s oak desk. “We’re going to need a strategy for cutting him loose; we don’t want to be at his mercy forever.” Joe laced his fingers together, leaning forward until his elbows were on Richard’s desk. “He’s an addict, Richard, and you and I both know that he’s never going to change. I’d hate for us to be here in a few months’ time having an emergency meeting because he’s sold his share of the company for drugs.”
