by Scott, S. L.
He reaches for his cigarettes and lighter on the nightstand, setting them on the bed. “Grab a condom, baby.”
If he only knew all the bad things I’m willing to do just to hear him call me baby more often. When we’re tangled up in each other, the good far outweighs any bad the world wants to rain down on the happiness we find in times like tonight.
As I stretch over him, he holds me by the waist so I don’t fall over. I get a condom from the drawer and get comfortable on top of him again. “Underwear.”
He lifts his middle with me on top. I take them down, and he kicks them to the floor. “Good Lord, you’re built like a Greek god.” Too tempting, I have to run my hands over every dip and rise of his abdominal muscles.
My ass is squeezed with gusto. “You have the sexiest body and the best fucking ass I’ve ever seen.”
“And since you’ve seen a lot, I’ll take the compliment.”
Laughing, he doesn’t bother with apologies. He has nothing to be sorry for anyway. He moves me down and rips the wrapper open. The condom covers him, and he moves me back with a little lift so I can slide down.
I hold my breath as he stakes claims deep inside me. God, it feels so good. Having him inside me . . . The feel of his skin below me, the coarse hair of his legs . . . his hard stomach . . . I want this. I want him. I just hope he leaves my battered heart alone; it’s too weak to fight a battle.
Putting his hands behind his head, he keeps eye contact but then starts claiming me in a new way—through a fixed gaze. “I want to watch you get off on me.”
He’s never made me feel less than confident in doing whatever I want to do in bed with him, but I hesitate. “Watch?”
“Start slow and then fuck me the way it feels best for you.”
I pluck my bottom lip a few times in contemplation, but he feels too good not to want more—faster and deeper.
Finding a rhythm that feels amazing, I use his stomach as leverage to keep it. I watch as he takes a Marlboro from the box and lights it. His eyes never leave mine while taking a deep inhale, slowly exhaling, and savoring every second.
Smoke fills the air above us. He never smokes anywhere but next to the open window or outside, but damn if he’s not absolutely the sexiest man I’ve ever seen doing it in bed.
I burn for him. The yearning builds as I get closer to the finish line. My lids close, but he says, “Open your eyes, baby.”
Moving without regret or apologies of my own, I take everything he’s willing to give—his body, his lustful eyes, his soul . . . I rock. I ride. I take. I don’t give a damn thing until I give him my fall, my orgasm, a little piece of my heart, more of my soul, and his name. “Jet,” comes out with a whimper as I grind against him until my need is satisfied.
He answers my earlier question. “When you say my name—in swear or prayer—I see your wounds and want to heal every one of them. I want more than one night every six months. I want you to stay when morning comes.”
With his hand out, the lit cigarette held away from me, he sits up, holding me by the back of the neck with my cheek against his. “Fuck me, Hannah. Fuck sense right back into me so when you leave this room I can pretend this was nothing more than fun.”
His forehead falls to my shoulder, his body slightly curled toward me, bending to me, bowing to me. With my arms around him, I kiss the top of his head. I want to tell him it’s okay, that I feel the same, but I can’t. I can’t. I can’t pretend that this is just fun. It isn’t nothing. It’s him. It’s us.
We didn’t expect things to get out of hand so quickly. But here we are—our hearts open and our bodies bared.
What he doesn’t realize is that my body is open and my heart bared. It would be too much too soon to tell him.
So I fuck him to spite my growing emotions. I fuck him to take away his pain. I fuck and fuck and fuck until we’re both coming together, and the lies bind us—the lie that this is only fun.
As soon as we’re done, he’s gone. The ash leaves a trail on the wood floors as he rushes from the bed to tap out the burning butt into the ashtray on the sill. The cold I’m left with doesn’t comfort but leaves enough room for doubt to creep in.
Before I have time to regret what we’ve done, the warmth of his body cradles mine from behind, and he whispers, “You’re amazing.”
His soothing words melt the forming chill, and I cover his hands with mine.
My hair is swept to the side, and kisses are placed the length of my neck. I start to shy away, but he holds me tighter. “Stay,” dusts across my skin, making me consider it for the first time.
The beat of my heart pounds in my chest, reflecting my nerves. Nothing I’m about to do is right in the light of day, but right here in the dark of his bedroom it feels right. Shifting around so I can see him, I take a breath while admiring those eyes that give so much insight to the man. “Jet?”
“Yes?”
“We’ve got to keep us a secret.”
“Tonight?”
“I’ll stay,” I reply with a smile sneaking out. “But we have to keep this a secret.”
He doesn’t even try to hide his relief. “Promise me more than tonight, Hannah.”
Running the tips of my fingers over the stubble on his chin, I smile, the thought of waking up next to him too tempting to pass up. I kiss him, loving the feel of his lips pressed against mine and the way his hands span my back, holding me close. “I can’t promise you much, but I’ll give you tomorrow. I want to give you more, but I’ve been hurt before.”
He tilts his head, his gaze traveling from my mouth to my eyes. “I’ll take whatever days you can give and show you how good we can be together.”
“You’re so optimistic.”
“When I look into your clear blue eyes, hope is found in your endless oceans. Give me a chance, Hannah. Give me a chance to be the glue that can hold your broken parts together when you’re not strong enough. Let me be the one who gets to put you back together. Just one chance is all I’m asking for.”
My heart softens. He did read my confession, my text that I regretted sending. I don’t have any regrets now as I look into the warmth of his eyes. He wins me over with his gentleness while wooing me with his words. “What will you do with only one chance?”
“I’ll make sure that sadness never touches your heart again.”
Leaning my head on his shoulder, I want to shout yes to this amazing man with every part of my being. I place one kiss on his lips, and reply, “How are you so sure?”
“Gut instinct. Following my heart. Throwing caution to the wind. Chemistry. Attraction. Everything up here,” he says, tapping his temple, “tells me to proceed with caution because of the situation we’re in and because I can see you’re worried.” Taking my hand, he holds it against his chest. His heartbeat is strong, just like him. “If I can’t bring down your walls, I’ll climb them to prove you’re worth the effort. To me, you are worth everything.”
Whispering, I ask, “Why?”
“I know your heart. I see how you put everyone else before yourself. We may not have had an ideal start or taken a traditional path to get here, but we’re here, and I’m not asking for your heart. I’m asking for a chance to see what this is, to find out what could be. Will you give it to me?”
After I left him so many months ago, Cassie consumed my mind. I spent days looking after her and Alfie’s needs, trying to fill the blanks that her illness had created in their lives. But even then, my nights belonged to Jet. Thoughts of him. Thoughts of the way he touched me, kissed me, owned me.
Then all that fell apart when Cassie told me who Alfie’s dad was. The knife further tore my heart open as Eileen used scathing and spiteful words to further dehumanize him.
My heart has felt empty. Now, lying so close to him, feeling his heart beat and hearing his words that he wants to be the one who puts me back together, how can I say no? I’ve never felt more vulnerable, more exposed to be hurt. We have so much more to learn and to talk about, but he m
akes me want to stay. He makes me want to take another risk. “How could I ever say no to you?”
“All I need is a yes.”
“Yes.”
18
Jet
How’d I go from trying to keep my distance to being in a relationship?
She called my house “home” on the phone. I know it was a slip on her part, but damn if it didn’t make me wish that it was more for her.
Thinking back to our talk before she fell asleep, I pray that yes she gave me wasn’t a dream. I may not have planned for this, but I don’t regret telling her how I feel. I never saw Hannah Nichols coming, but now that she’s here, I’m not ready to let her go.
I’m curious how she’ll feel when the sun rises. With her sleeping soundly next to me, I’m not anxious for the day to invade.
Alfie needs to be up soon, so I decide to let her sleep in. I’m going off two hours of sleep from the plane ride home, but I want to see him. I carefully get out of bed so I don’t wake her and get dressed by plucking clothes off the floor and sneaking out the door, closing it behind me.
First priority—coffee. I start the pot and pull on a shirt and jeans before going into Alfie’s room. Kneeling, I rub his arm to wake him. “Hey buddy, it’s time to get up.”
He yawns and then opens his eyes. The smile is instant, and he throws his arms around my neck. “You’re home.”
“I’m home. Missed you.”
“Missed you.”
“You hungry?”
He nods, and we make our way to the kitchen. “Hannah’s sleeping, so it’s just you and me this morning. Eggs?”
“Waffles. Hannah let me choose any flavor I wanted.” I check the freezer and see a box of frozen waffles.
“Chocolate chip. Good choice.” I pop two in the toaster. “Go get dressed and they’ll be ready when you are.”
He runs off, and I pour a cup of coffee just as I hear Hannah speaking to him in the hall. “Whoa! Slow down, Alfie.”
I pull another mug from the cabinet and fill it, though I leave enough room for the creamer she likes to add. When she comes around the corner, a smile I’ve only seen in private is on full display. “Good morning,” I say, pulling her close by a belt loop.
Glancing over her shoulder and then back at me, she whispers, “Good morning.” I go in for a kiss, but she stops me. “We can’t. We’ll talk after Alfie is at school.”
“What are you going to talk about when I’m in school?” Alfie asks, coming in just as the waffles pop up.
“Nothing,” she replies quickly, stepping out of his way when he rushes back in for breakfast.
She shakes her head at me, but she’s not mad. That little smile she’s trying so hard to hide behind the mug comes with music to my ears in the form of a giggle. Alfie is eyeing her while he eats his waffle, but then sets it down. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
When we reply in unison and a little too guiltily by how quick we both answer, he squints his eyes and looks at us. “Did you get a sunburn, Hannah? Remember when I got a sunburn at the park?”
She starts fanning herself after setting the mug down. “We should go so we’re not late. Grab your backpack, Alfie.”
“Can I eat in the car?”
“Yes.” He takes his waffle and gets his bag by the front door. When he’s out of earshot, she turns back to me and whispers, “I was thinking I could come back—”
“I want you to come back,” I reply, feeling good about how things are between us.
She nods and starts for the door. I catch Alfie in a hug. “It’s good to see you this morning, buddy.”
“Will I see you today?”
“I’ll pick you up from school.” His arms tighten around me, and he squeezes hard for a six-year-old. That’s my kid. “I like you, Jet.”
“I love you, Alfie.”
As I’m setting him down, I hear Hannah exhale a breath and look up. Her hand is covering her heart and tears are in her eyes. Moving closer, I take her hand and hold it. “Are you okay?”
“More than okay.” She clears her throat, and our little bubble is popped. “I’ll be back soon.”
“No hug?” I love pushing her buttons.
“No hug in front of him.”
I slap her ass as she walks out the door. “I’ll collect later.”
Alfie has run ahead on the sidewalk, but Hannah’s still on the porch. She shakes her ass for me. “Good luck with that, Crow.”
“I don’t need luck, baby.” I drag my hand over my stomach, pulling my shirt up along with it. “I got all I need right here.”
Her mouth drops open. “Do you really think I’m that weak that I’d fall for a few good abs?”
“A few?” I ask, lifting an eyebrow at her. The gauntlet has been thrown down.
Turning around on the path, she rests her hand on her hip. “Is that how we’re going to play this, Jet?” The alarm beeps, and Alfie starts climbing into her car.
“This is exactly how we’re going to play this, Ms. Nichols.”
With an exaggerated eye roll, she turns around, but then calls over her shoulder, “Game on, Crow. Game. On.”
I lean against the doorframe with a smile on my face and cross my arms, watching her walk down that path. This time, she’ll be coming back. Yeah, I win. “Bye, guys.”
After they drive away, I go back inside. I’m a stinky fuckin’ bastard, and since I’m hoping for more action with Hannah when she returns, I jump in the shower.
I’m in, out, and scrub my hair with the towel. I spend some time looking through my closet, but my best shirts went with me to LA and are now dirty. I stop acting like a chick and pull a tee from the shelf.
I keep checking the time, wondering when she’ll be back. It shouldn’t have taken this long, so I text her: Got an ETA?
Hannah: Do you miss me already?
Me: Yep.
Hannah: Charmer.
Me: Come back so I can show you how charming I can be.
Hannah: I think you showed me several times last night.
Me: And your point is?
Hannah: You’re right. I’ll be back in a few.
She isn’t, though. I sit on the front porch for the next hour wondering where she is and checking my phone regularly. I finally break down and call her, but she doesn’t answer.
Worrying, I pace. I’m about to go inside and busy myself with some housework that needs to be done, but the sound of tires turning into the driveway pulls my attention back. I walk down the steps and greet her by opening the door. “Hey, I was starting to worry.”
She unbuckles her seat belt and smiles, but something is off. “We’ve already jumped to worrying about each other?”
“Guess so.”
Standing with the door between us, she hides her eyes behind large sunglasses. When she shifts and lowers her head, I know something’s off. Something’s wrong. She’s quick to duck out from between the car and me. “You don’t need to worry about me, Jet. I can take care of myself.”
I shut the door, and she clicks the alarm, locking the doors when she walks away. I follow her up the sidewalk but step around her and block the door. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong.”
“Then take your sunglasses off, look me in the eyes, and tell me nothing’s wrong. If you do, I’ll back off.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, her stance firming. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
“I’m not telling you. I’m asking you what’s wrong. Clearly, something is.” Taking her wrists, I try to unfold her arms and make her feel more comfortable. “Hey.” I tilt my head to the side. “It’s me. The guy you said you can’t say no to last night. C’mon, Hannah. Talk to me.”
Her arms fall to her side, and her head falls forward to rest against my chest. I bring her in and hold her. Kissing the top of her head, I whisper, “You can talk to me about anything. I’m kind of impatient in life and a little bossy, but I’m a good listener.”
&
nbsp; “A little?” She laughs against my chest, making me laugh.
“Fine. A lot bossy.” I open the door and step aside to let her by. “Now tell me what’s on your mind.”
Once we’re inside, she pulls the sunglasses off and drops them in her purse that’s dumped on the coffee table. She sits down and finally looks up at me. Her eyes are red and a little puffy from crying. “My cousin died, and I haven’t had the time to even mourn.”
Kneeling before her, I rest my hands on her knees. “Is that what you’ve been doing?”
“She was cremated.”
I wasn’t expecting to hear about Cassie, but looking at the pain on Hannah’s face, the gray in her eyes, I realize I should have asked. I’m still not sure what I can and can’t ask, but I should have taken the risk. I still don’t know if I have the right to ask about her at all. “I don’t need you to fix anything, Jet. I just needed to cry.”
Getting up, I sit on the couch next to her. “And you did?”
“I did. It makes no sense, but I was driving by the park we used to take Alfie to. I drive by that park every time I go to his school, which is almost every day, sometimes twice, but today . . .” She rubs her eyes and huffs, annoyed with her tears.
“But today what? What happened?”
“I’ve not been happy in a long time.” I pull her onto my lap and keep my arms wrapped around her when she’s settled. “How can I be happy when she’s no longer alive? How cruel am I?” She drops her head into her hands as her body gently shakes with little sobs.
“You’re not to blame for her death, and you’re allowed to be happy. That’s what living is about—finding what makes you happy.”
Leaning her head on my shoulder, she says, “She’s not been gone that long.”
“Everyone mourns in their own time and in their own way.”
“Alfie won’t talk about it.”
“He will when he’s ready.”
Looking back at me, she asks, “Do you ever think about her?”
“All the time, but being honest with you, I’m not sure what to think. She obviously didn’t think very highly of me, and I’ve spent years thinking the best of her.”
