Hunting Hannah

by Scarlet James

  The officers swarmed over the perp, calling for the paramedics. One pulled his gun, aimed, as the other cut through the tape with one of Hannah's knives. Seconds later, the paramedics rolled in and, after a brief status check, hauled the man onto their gurney. After slapping on cuffs, two cops and the paramedics started for the door.

  "Hey!" I yelled at the paramedics, ignoring Andy. "Hannah needs you."

  Andrew's gaze bounced from them to me, and the possessive hold I had on Hannah. He grinned widely.

  "No." The words came out as a rasp of sound. She swallowed and tried again. "I'm fine."

  "You're not fine," I growled, holding her tighter when she tried to move off my lap. "Remember? Throat, ribs, face?”

  "I'm fine!" She insisted, glaring at the paramedic advancing on us.

  Andrew found a cup in her kitchen and filled it with water. He squatted in front of us, ignoring me now, focusing on Hannah.

  "This will help. I'm Andrew. Jake’s partner. How about you let the paramedic check you over while you tell me what happened? I promise to punch the paramedic if he hurts you."

  The paramedic, Kyle his name tag read, took it in stride. Tucson, Arizona, paramedics saw it all. Little flustered them, from my experience.

  "Fine. Not going to the hospital, though. Let's get that clear right now."

  "Ok. No hospital. Unless you need it."

  Hannah turned to scowl at me. "I don't, and I won't. No hospital."

  Andrew laughed.

  "What?" Hannah snapped.

  "Nothing!"

  But I knew what Andy was thinking. I’d found a live wire - my match in every way.

  I shifted her to my side, settling her on the couch, so the paramedic had better access. Kyle pressed his fingers into her ribs.

  "This hurt?"

  "No."

  "Don't lie," I chided.

  Her lower lip pouted. "Fine. Yes, it hurts."

  He pressed another area.

  "Yeah, that too."

  "Look up."

  Hannah tilted her head, revealing her neck. Unmistakable fingerprints were already starting to bruise.

  "Fucker," Andy spat.

  Oh, yeah. Very much regretting my restraint now.

  Kyle finished his inspection by pumping a blood pressure cuff around her right bicep and flashing a penlight into her eyes for a pupil check.

  "I'd like to take you in for x-rays - "

  "Nope."

  "Hannah," I started.

  "Not happening."

  All the men sighed.

  "Alright," Kyle said. "As long as you have someone with you for the next twenty-four hours. Anything changes, you go to a hospital. Understand?"

  "Oh, I understand."

  More sighs.

  "Thanks, Kyle. I'll be with her."

  The grin slid back onto Andrew's face, disappearing when Hannah looked back at him. Andrew was married. He knew not to poke the bear.

  "So, Hannah. Want to tell us what happened?"

  She leaned into me, and the fight seemed to leak away, just like that. The officer, still silent, came forward, his notebook and pen ready.

  "I was getting the tea for Mrs. Grant when he grabbed me from behind. I didn't hear anything. Not a thing."

  "Go on," Andrew pressed, his voice gentle.

  "He kept asking 'Where is it?'" She used two fingers to air quote the words ‘where is it’.

  I frowned. "Do you know what he meant?"

  Hannah took a sip of the water. I noticed her shaking hand. So did Andy. Hannah was scared and trying not to show it. Who wouldn't be afraid?

  Where what was?

  "No. But whatever 'it' is might explain why my store was broken into last night."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  HANNAH

  After swearing up and down that I'd make a formal statement tomorrow, the officer and Jake's partner, Andrew, finally let me go.

  Not Jake. Whenever I tried to move, he clamped one firm hand on my shoulder and hauled me back. Surprisingly, I found the caveman attitude reassuring. I felt safe by his side - something I needed right now.

  Even though my apartment now qualified as a crime scene, including a swarm of crime techs, they let me pack a bag. No real question where I'd stay. Not with Jake hovering at my side. Oh, and I didn't miss the knowing smile on Andrew's face. Worse than Mrs. Grant.

  Mrs. Grant.

  "Can I get a few bags of the Lemon Zest tea? For my neighbor."

  Officer Patrick shot me a disbelieving look. "You mean from the cupboard where you were attacked?"

  My shoulders sagged. I hated the look of all these strangers in my apartment, my one haven at the end of crazy workdays. I looked from my beloved espresso machine with its internal bean grinder to my oversized couch and favorite paintings.

  The ornate mirror near the front door, carefully positioned so that daylight from my balcony doors reflected through the entire space.

  That made me think of another mirror and Annabeth's good-natured harassment. God, had that only been twenty-four, or so, hours ago?

  "Crime scene. Right."

  "C'mon, baby."

  I numbly turned into Jake. My neighbor, who was now…what? Romantic interest was an idiotic term. Prospective sexual partner? It felt like more, crazy as that seemed. Maybe due to his saving my life. Survivor infatuation was a thing. Except I'd experienced these feelings before the attack.

  Hadn't I planned to jump his bones tonight?

  He slid his arm around my shoulders, guiding me to the door. The warmth, the feeling of safety and caring, coated me like a warm blanket straight out of the dryer.

  "I'll stay until the techs finish, Hannah," Andy said, interrupting my musing. "And I'll organize a new door. Don't worry about this. Let Jake take care of you."

  No smirk. No innuendo. Just gentle assurance.

  "We'll find out what's going on, I promise." Andrew looked to Jake. "Tomorrow."

  "Yeah."

  In the hall, we turned right, and Jake opened his door, stepping back for me to enter first.

  "Thanks."

  As he locked up, I took in the room. Simple and clean. No frills and all male.

  A quality leather couch and matching love seat took up most of the space. They sat facing a massive TV - not surprising. A low and wide coffee table sat in the middle, cluttered with magazines.

  Two small side tables carved out of rich mahogany wood. Elegant finishing. Wow. Looking around, I saw the dining table, and its chairs matched the style and wood.

  "Those tables are stunning. And chairs. Incredible.”

  Jake turned on a few more lights.

  "My brother, Aiden, is a fine-woodworker. He took offence to my second-hand furniture. I moved in five years ago and did a lot of undercover work. I didn't see the point of buying new furniture when I didn't spend much time here. Let's just say that the argument didn't work. Now every birthday and Christmas, I get something new."

  I turned to him, wrapped my arms around his waist.

  "Sounds like you're close."

  "All of us are."

  "All?"

  "Three, including me."

  He stared down at me. Intense, wanting, holding back. I knew then that I'd have to make the first move. After the attack, he'd been treating me like fragile glass, one puff of air, and I'd shatter.

  Well, I wasn't fragile. I was also very good at compartmentalizing. I'd deal with the emotional fall-out later. Now I wanted Jake's hands on me. And my hands on him.

  "I want to hear all about them. All about you." I slid my hands beneath his t-shirt, tracing his ripped abs. "Later."

  "Hannah." He groaned, trying to pull my hands away.

  I pressed closer, rubbing my body against his, feeling his erection. I lowered one hand to trace the bulge. Lightly. Teasing.

  "Hmm. This for me?"

  "Hannah, stop. You're hurt. You've just been through a horrible experience."

  "So give me an excellent experience. Finish what you started in
the elevator, Jake."

  I still traced him, ever so lightly, loving the way his body tensed, as if he wanted to pounce and was barely holding it in.

  He grabbed my wrist. I flattened my hand against him, cupped his jean-covered cock, pressing hard. Still exploring him, I took his other hand and pushed it under my shirt, up to my breast.

  "Shit," he groaned. He didn't pull away from my hand. He held me there, cupping my breast, holding it, holding up its weight. His heat pulsed through my silk bra. "You don't play fair, do you, baby?"

  "You started it."

  He ran one thumb across my tightly budded nipple. I gasped, pleasure exploding through every seven senses. I wanted his mouth there. His mouth everywhere.

  "I don't want to hurt you."

  "You won't."

  I kissed him, my tongue tracing his lower lip, and then his upper lip. "Besides, didn't the paramedic say I need someone to stay with me? Well, I think being inside me counts."

  He gripped my hair and dragged me in for a long hot kiss.

  "For fuck's sake, Hannah. You can't just say things like that."

  Never had I felt so sexy. The desperation in Jake's voice spurred me on.

  I pulled his hands away and stepped back, turning in the direction of the bedroom. Thank God the apartments all had the same configuration. Knowing he was watching, I stripped my shirt up and over my head, dropping it on the floor outside the bedroom door.

  I flicked on the light and moved to the bed. A dark blue comforter and crisp white sheets. Entirely masculine. Entirely Jake.

  Hearing his footsteps approach behind me, slow and measured, I moved to the side of the bed. He stopped just inside the door, his hands gripping the frame as if holding himself back.

  Well, we couldn't have that.

  I slowly unbuttoned my shorts and lowered the zipper. I left my panties on. Amazingly, I'd put on a matching set this morning. Lavender silk trimmed in lace. Pretty and feminine. A spontaneous purchase a while back.

  "You're gorgeous,” Jake said hoarsely.

  I reached behind me to unsnap my bra, letting it drop one arm at a time, leaving the panties on for Jake to remove. I crawled onto the bed, lying down in the center, my head on his pillow.

  "I've wanted you in my bed for so damn long."

  "You're wearing too many clothes, Jake. Or did you just imagine me alone in your bed? Nothing about what you want to do with me? To me?"

  Releasing the door frame, he strode to the end of the bed. One rip and the panties were gone.

  "Open your legs."

  I obeyed.

  I was already wet, but the look of possessive need etched on his handsome face had me squirming. If he stood there, looking at me like that, for much longer...I'd come.

  "Such a pretty pussy."

  He slid one finger along my slit. Not entering, not giving me any relief.

  He licked his finger. "And so sweet."

  I watched in fascination as he stripped. Sexy, thy name is Jake.

  I took in the ripped muscles everywhere, but my real focus was his penis. Jutting straight out, the bulbous end red and pulsing. A demanding force. The ultimate proof he wanted me.

  He pulled a foil square from his discarded jeans pocket. Watching me watching him, he ripped it open and rolled it along his cock.

  "I want you so damn much. I don't know how long I'll last once I touch you. Taste you. I'll try to go slow. Not hurt you."

  Slow wasn't going to work for me.

  "I'm ready," I gasped. "More than. Please Jake. Now. I need you inside me now.“

  He smiled for the first time since the elevator.

  "Not yet."

  "Jake! I can't - "

  He climbed on the bed, kneeling between my spread legs. He dragged my body toward him, his hands cupping my ass and lifted.

  "I'm going to taste you. I'm going to suck your clit and thrust my tongue all the way inside you, the same way I'm going to with my cock. Think of my cock ramming you as I tongue-fuck you."

  Lowering his face, he licked my clit. Shit, oh my…heat spiraled into sharp pleasurable stings. I flung my arms out, grabbing for something to hold onto, fighting the need to drag him up and demand he give me that cock I want so bad. But I wanted his tongue, too.

  He nipped my clit, sucked, bit again. Pain and pleasure. I never knew both could blend into such incredible awareness. Everything in me focused on each touch as if it were my last.

  With that, he thrust his tongue in me. Two fingers spread me wide. Full, open access. He thrust his tongue, in and out, harder, faster.

  "Thinking about my cock, baby?"

  "Yes," I gasped. "I want it!"

  "Soon. Come anytime you want, baby. I want to swallow every sweet drop."

  His words broke me. I screamed his name, jerking against his face as he sucked hard.

  Slowly, I relaxed. At least, the inner convulsions eased. The rest of me was still blown away and shaking. Physically and emotionally.

  Jake didn't give me time to settle. Without warning, he reared back and flipped me over onto my stomach. I bit back a small whimper as my ribs cringed.

  No way was I going to remind him, let him pull back. Or worse, stop altogether.

  "Hands and knees, gorgeous."

  I got my hands under me, and just when I realized I didn't have it in me to move, Jake hauled me up onto my knees. He pushed one knee between mine and spread open my legs.

  "Ok? No pain?"

  "No pain," I lied. Except it wasn't a lie, not really. Excitement skated right over any lingering pain. The floating state dissipated, and I was back there - on edge.

  No other words. None necessary.

  The edge of his penis nudged my opening. Brushing, testing. So close. I wiggled, pushing back against him.

  "Jake, please," I panted. Pleaded.

  He entered me with one hard thrust. Nothing could have prepared me. I felt impaled, invaded, stretched beyond capacity, and so close to the edge already.

  "You are so damned tight."

  He clamped his hands on my hips, holding me in place, driving in, pulling out, in and out.

  "Come again, Hannah. Get there."

  I clutched the sheets in my hands, pumping back at him, matching every thrust with one of mine. Pace increased. Skin slapped against wet skin. The feeling of him moving inside me was just too much.

  I exploded.

  My eyes squeezed tightly closed, brilliant flashes of color blasting like firecrackers behind my lids. So intense, I was barely aware of Jake slamming into me one last time as he, too, shouted his release.

  No, nothing could have prepared me.

  After a while, a minute or twenty, he pulled out of me. I gave a small sound of protest - I felt empty without him - but really, I was too tired to move anyway. He disappeared, dealing with the condom, I sleepily supposedly. He returned, lifted me, and slid us both under the comforter.

  He rolled me onto my side and spooned my back, brushing a hand carefully over my stomach and ribs.

  After a while, his body stiffened. Back into thinking cop mode.

  "Don't think so hard," I whispered, repeating his earlier words from the elevator. "Sleep. Talk tomorrow."

  I felt him battling an internal war.

  Jake was a warrior and a protector. He'd protected me tonight. That didn't mean the battle was over. His warrior's brain wasn't letting him forget.

  "Sleep," I said again. "You'll need your strength."

  The tension eased, and he laughed.

  "Oh yeah?"

  "Yeah. And Jake?"

  He cupped my breast. That's all. Cupped, held. Not trying to arouse. Just there. I felt as if he'd always been there. Here, with me.

  "What is it, baby?"

  "Thanks for saving my life."

  Jake

  Thanks for saving my life.

  Such simple words had never effected me quite so much.

  I kissed the back of her head, brushed her hair aside and kissed her neck. She’d crashe
d out straight away. Those words and out she went. Those words and wide awake I became.

  I’d almost lost her tonight. If I hadn’t been home…I didn’t even want to think about it, but the scene kept revolving like an old movie reel.

  Scene by scene. Hearing her screams. Breaking in the door. The bastard’s hand around her neck. Holding her as the paramedic checked her injuries. Her injuries, for fucks sake.

  Then the break-in at her shop.

  I’d wanted to shake her, demand why she hadn’t told me before. I could have stopped it. Somehow. At the very least, I’d have moved her in with me.

  I eased out of bed, tucking in the blankets around Hannah’s curled form. She didn’t move. I stood there for a long moment, watching her. Her slow breathing, her tangled golden brown hair, her luscious body.

  I’d wanted her in my bed for so long, and I planned to keep her there. Part of me wanted to peel back the blankets, sink into her. Claim her in the most elemental way. The other part argued she needed sleep and I needed to pace this out.

  Whatever was going on wasn’t over.

  “Where is it?” He’d asked her repeatedly.

  Hannah didn’t know what it was, but I didn’t need my ten years on the force to know someone didn’t break into two buildings and physically assault an innocent woman unless the item was very valuable.

  I pulled on some clean boxers and headed back into the living room. My cell was charging in the kitchen. A text from Andrew awaited me.

  Not talking. In hold up waiting for lawyer. I know she’s your woman, so call anytime if you need. BTW, Becca is pissed about you hiding her.

  Not talking. We’ll see about that.

  As for now…I opened the fridge. I was starving. No dinners, adrenalin rush, incredible sex. I was running on fumes. So was Hannah, but no way was I waking her up to eat.

  The pizza from yesterday sat in prominent place. I hesitated, knowing the smell would fill the apartment, likely waking Hannah. Otherwise, I had sandwich makings. Or toast. Neither sounded as good as the pizza.

  I preheated the oven and peeled off the cling wrap, taking note of the little sheet with time instructions. Fifteen minutes. I set the timer on my phone, on vibrate. Sliding the pizza into the oven, I grabbed another beer and wandered over to the balcony. The pool glow softened the dark. Had it only been a little over twenty-four hours since I’d stood outside watching Hannah’s smooth strokes, plotting my next move?