“Hey.”
Hannah’s sleepy voice broke through my reverie. I turned to see her standing in the bedroom door. Adorably rumpled. Wearing only a t-shirt. I liked knowing she went through my clothes to find it. That showed comfort in her surroundings and situation. Although I’d rather she just wander around naked.
The idea of her naked had my cock twitching to life.
“Hey, yourself. Sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t. My stomach did. I’m starving.”
She negotiated the furniture, shaded in the dark, coming to a stop by my side, entwining her fingers with mine.
“Well, luckily, I just put a pizza in the oven. Papa Murphy’s.”
She visibly perked up. “Which kind?”
“Chicken and garlic.”
“Really? That’s my favourite.”
I smiled, touched her chin, tilting her face up to mine for kiss.
“I know. I’ve seen you bring it home a few times. I got it yesterday night, planning to invite you for dinner.”
“Oh.”
“Is that a good or bad ‘oh’?”
“Good.”
She glanced away, a faint blush tinting her cheeks.
“What aren’t you saying?”
“Nothing important.”
“Hannah…”
She huffed out a breath. “You’re not going to let it go, are you?”
“Nope.”
When she looked back, the embarrassed blush had turned mischievous. Wicked.
“Bet I can distract you.”
With that bold statement, she dropped to her knees in front of me. She tucked her fingers into both sides of my boxers and pulled. Just seeing her on her knees made me hard as stone, so she had to adjust her grip and pull the material over my already huge, stiff shaft, and down.
“Hmm, what have we here?”
She glanced up me and licked her lips. I almost came right there.
There couldn’t be a more incredible sight than a woman on her knees, eager to take a cock in her mouth. That was wrong. There wasn’t a more incredible sight than my woman on her knees, eager to take my cock in her mouth.
I held my breath, waiting. Not wanting to rush her, at the same time needing like hell for her suck me in.
Her lips opened, licked the tip, licked the pre-cum glistening in the pool’s light. She gripped its base, brushed a finger over my balls. I sucked in a breath. Fuck, that felt good.
It pulsed, everything pulsed. Watching me, she opened her mouth wide, taking me in. Slowly. Agonisingly slow. But she took all of me. Kept going until the tip hit the back of her throat. No gagging, nothing but pure excitement in her eyes. She wanted this.
“Jesus, Hannah.”
Then she closed her eyes and started to suck. Her head bobbed back and forth as she sucked, her tongue running along the underside of my cock, her teeth lightly nipping, playing. One hand wrapped around the top, pumping in unison, while the other caressed my balls.
I groaned, tangling my hands in her hair, forcing myself to stay still when all I wanted to do was take over the rhythm and fuck her mouth, fast and hard. To come in her mouth and watch her swallow my cum.
I felt it rising, and I grit my teeth.
“Honey, I can’t -”
The timer on my phone went off. The pizza. Shit, who cared. Let the damn thing burn.
She pulled back, sitting on her haunches, her mouth gleaming as she smiled. “Pizza timer?”
“Yes,” I struggled with the word.
“Well, we don’t want it to burn.”
What the fuck?
“Hannah, I’m dying here.”
Ignoring my state, she grinned a cheeky grin, rose and strolled into the kitchen.
Flicking on the kitchen light, she found a dish towel and used it to pull out the pizza. Placing it on the oven top, she asked, “Do you have a pizza roller?”
“Hannah, are you really going to leave me like this?”
“Yep,” she returned cheerfully.
“That’s just cruel.”
She found the utensils drawer and found the roller. She quickly cut slices and carried the entire pizza over to the dining table.
“Sit. It’s best hot.”
Still disbelieving, so lost in my whirl of need and lust, I pulled out a chair and sat.
“I can’t believe -”
She straddled my lap, angled her hips right above my cock and slid down, impaling herself fully. She rocked forward, taking me in even further, at the same time tugging the shirt over her head.
“Jesus.”
I lifted her breasts, sucking on one nipple and then the other.
“Hmm, love that.”
“You are fucking incredible, Hannah. Incredible.”
She eased back and slowly rocked forward. She stopped, holding me deep inside her.
“I love this. Feeling you deep inside.”
That brought reality crashing down. Deep inside her. Without a condom. No wonder my brain was sparking off the charts. Her inner walls clutching my bare cock. Fucking amazing.
As far as I was concerned - awesome. She was mine, and the idea of a baby? Totally on board. But I didn’t want her to regret this. To look back on this amazing moment with regret.
She started a slow rock, rotating her pelvis in a way that made my eyes roll back in my head. Holy crap. Incredible. I grabbed her, stopping before I shot off deep inside her.
“Hannah, honey. I’m not wearing a condom. Are you on birth control?”
She stilled. Stared down at me. Awareness widening her eyes.
“Are you?” I bit out. Not in anger. Never in anger. “If not, I’ve got some condoms in my bedroom.”
She reached over and picked up a slice of pizza and took a bite.
Rocked forward.
“Hannah, damn it. Answer me.”
“No, I’m not on birth control. I haven’t had sex in three years, so birth control seemed unnecessary. That’s what the ‘oh’ was about. Last night, you know when I made a fool of myself in the hallway? I’d been thinking how much of a sex-god you are. Don’t think I hadn’t noticed. From the first day we met.”
“Hannah.”
“I guess I should have gone back on birth-control, but to be honest I didn’t think you’d ever notice me. Other than as your neighbor.”
She peeled away my hands from her hips, moved them back to her breasts, sighing with pleasure when I gripped them hard. Freed, she pumped her hips, riding my cock in earnest now. Her thighs wrapped around my hips giving her purchase to lower and rise up again.
“Baby, I can’t last much longer. Bedroom, now.”
She leaned forward, touched her lips to my neck. Nipped, then licked the slight sting away.
“What if I tell you I’m dying to feel you come inside me? I know it’s crazy, and stupid. I know the risk. But I want to feel you climax inside me. I want to feel you coming in me, filling me up. Not latex.”
Supreme satisfaction warred with shock at her admission. I’d always thought I’d have to ease her into a relationship. Then into bed. And when she was ready, marriage and kids. That’s what I wanted with her and she just gave me the most unexpected opening.
She bit her lip, as if suddenly aware of the impact of her words. “But yeah, the risk of…ok, lets get those condoms if you want.”
“There is nothing I want more than to take you bare. To have nothing between us.” I grabbed her ass, pulling, pushing, urging her to ride me faster. She was close. I felt her inner walls starting to clench around me. “But what if you get pregnant from this time? I don’t want you to regret it.”
She looked at me, clarity and nerves visible behind the glaze of her rising orgasm.
“Guess you’ll just have to marry me, then.”
Her entire body went tight, her pussy fisting my cock, and she threw her head back on a soundless scream. I followed her over the edge, my control finally released, pouring everything into her perfect amazing body.
&nb
sp; Mine.
Spent, she slumped against me, her panting breath tickling my chest. I smoothed one hand along her spine. She felt so right in my arms. Everything I’ve ever wanted. Even more that I didn’t know I wanted.
“How about I marry you anyway?”
I felt her smile as her arms snuck around my back.
“Ok. But can we eat the rest of the pizza first?”
CHAPTER FIVE
HANNAH
Not in a million years would I put the attack and store break-in into second place as the most bizarre events of the last few days.
I looked down at the sapphire engagement ring on my left hand, tilting it to catch the triangle of diamonds on either side of the sapphire. It sparkled even in the dim space of the police interview observation room. Nope, not in a million years.
Jake insisted on stopping at a jeweler on the way to give our statements. Something about not going into a police station filled with ogling male cops without his ring on my finger. Also, he didn't want me to back out of the impromptu, in the middle of sex proposal/acceptance.
As if.
The only thing that might beat the last two day’s insanity was if I got pregnant. I surreptitiously pressed one hand to my stomach. Table that thought.
"Ready?" Andrew asked, quietly closing the door to the small room.
"Yes."
Together we watched as my attacker, Jim Jones, as it turned out, was brought into the room and handcuffed to the dented metal table. I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself. I've been trying to ignore my aching ribs and neck, but seeing him again brought it all to the surface. I glanced at his hands. Large. Vicious.
"You ok?" Andrew asked gently.
"I guess."
No. Definitely not ok.
"He's locked up and will be for a long time. No attorney can get him out of trying to strangle you, especially with a detective as an eye witness."
Strangle. Nausea rolled my stomach.
"Before this gets going…”
I turned to see Andrew grinning a wide stupid grin at me.
"I just want to say for the record - Jake entirely lost interest in women over two years ago."
Hmm. Interesting.
"And trust me, my wife is a determined matchmaker.”
"So, what I want to know is why Jake didn’t tell me you were involved. Me, his partner who he sees every day. I mean, I knew he lusted after you like a damned teenager. Then, there's the fact that you weren't wearing that ring yesterday." He pointed to my engagement ring, then lifted my hand. "Nice, by the way. Shiny.”
"Thanks."
I wasn’t about to tell his Jake and I’d been involved for less than forty-eight hours.
Andrew exhaled, clearly frustrated.
I smiled at him and extracted my hand. "Interrogate Jake."
"Oh, trust me, I will."
"Aren't you going in? I don't know anything about the legal system, but it doesn't seem right that an eye-witness should also be the interrogator."
"Good luck keeping Jake out," Andrew shrugged. "But yes, I'm going in just as soon as another officer comes in to sit with you. I know it will be hard, but Jake, the chief, and I think it might be beneficial to the case if you listen. Since we don't know what exactly he wants from you, something he says might ring a bell. If not, we'll go the normal route and dissect your movements over the last few weeks."
I rubbed my hands over my eyes. I didn't want to stand here and listen. I'm was already likely to have nightmares. But I also didn't want to be constantly worried about something else happening.
"Ok."
The door opened. Andrew turned to greet the newcomer.
"Hey, Wilson. I thought Foster was coming. Him being part psychologist, and all."
I glanced over. The man wore a uniform, unlike Andrew. Tall and too thin, with close-cropped blond hair and European features, he reminded me of a character in a Nazi documentary I'd seen a few months back.
Lovely.
"His kid spewed all over his teacher. Foster's wife is out of town. I'm free, so no problem."
His voice contrasted sharply with his looks. Soft, almost fatherly. Like a priest assuring a woeful parishioner. The contrast threw me, so I looked back at the interview room.
Jake entered then, and I sighed. Just the sight of him relaxed me. Even though thick glass separated us, and I knew he couldn't see me through its reflection, I felt comforted.
I had to listen, but I could focus on the man I was going to marry. I fingered my ring and relaxed even more. We'd sort this out and move on with our lives.
Andrew squeezed my shoulder and left, appearing moments later in the interview room. He held the door open, and a mouse of a man entered. Hunched, with a poor fitting suit and wiry gray hair that stuck out over his large ears. He looked tired.
Andy came in behind the man.
Jones glared at him, recognition flaring into a vicious snarl.
“Jim Jones, meet your lawyer, Mr. Kline, appointed by the state."
Jones’s expression didn't change as he took in the man supposed to protect his rights.
"Before we start, let me state for the record that we are recording this interview. I am Detective Andrew Franklin.”
"I am Detective Jake Lancaster," my man stated. His expression blank, his voice toneless. His jaw gave him away. Clenched, as if barely holding back. I worried about his molars.
"Please state your names for the record, gentlemen," Andrew continued.
The lawyer complied immediately. Jones said nothing.
A long moment passed before Andrew shrugged.
"The suspect refuses to state his name, but his fingerprints identify the suspect as Jim Jones of 1297 North street in Grants Way.”
Andrew continued to lead. Likely knowing Jake might blow anytime.
"Last night, you broke into Ms. Greene's home and assaulted her, as witnessed by Detective Lancaster. He witnessed your attempted murder by strangulation."
"Excuse me," the lawyer interrupted. "As a witness, Detective Lancaster should not be involved in this interview. I request he excuse himself immediately."
"Not happening," Jake said flatly.
"Asshole," muttered Jones. "When I get out of here, I'm gonna sue you for assault and battery."
I choked.
The officer next to me said softly, "He's just trying to get an edge in. Everyone knows he's dead to rights."
I exhaled and refocused on Jake. Only on Jake. I didn't want to be here anymore, but if I could pick up on anything…
"Ms. Greene reported that you demanded to know where an object is, isn't that right? She said your exact words were 'Where is it'?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"What is 'it'?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Jones repeated sullenly.
Andrew shifted tactics.
"You have a long rap sheet, don't you, Mr. Jones? Multiple accounts of breaking and entering, theft, assaults. But do you want to add attempted murder to your list? That's a long time in jail. A very long time."
"You have no proof my client was attempting to murder Ms. Greene," the lawyer interrupted, a resigned expression clear on his pallid face.
"He had his damned hands around her throat," Jake growled.
"Again, I request Detective Lancaster leave the room. He is emotionally involved in this case."
Andrew ignored this.
"Ok, let's move on. We have your cell phone records for the last few weeks." Andrew glanced at the lawyer as the man opened his mouth to object. "Subpoena signed this morning by Judge Holden."
"I'd like to see that, please."
"Sure thing."
Andrew took the first sheet off a pile near his elbow and slid it across. I hadn't noticed the papers, being so focused on the scene playing out.
“Back to the cell phone records. You do know, Mr. Jones, that cell phone records show locations, not just the details of your calls, right? The signal connects to ce
ll towers nearby, effectively tracking your movements."
At this, Jones shifted in his seat, showing the first sign of agitation. I leaned forward. Jones didn't want his movements known. I'm not a cop, but even I knew this was something.
"So what?"
"So you've taken quite a few road trips in the last three weeks for someone who lives in Arizona. Seattle, California, Chesapeake City, and New Mexico. Interesting that you rented different cars with fake identifications. That's another tick on your upcoming arraignment, you know. Want to tell me why you were visiting those areas?”
"Going on a road trip, asshole."
I was no longer listening. Chesapeake City, Maryland. That couldn't be a coincidence. Darnington Estate. Something in that purchase. It had to be.
I whirled to face Officer Wilson.
"I need to talk to Jake. Or Andrew. Now!"
"Figured something out?" he finally asked, not moving.
"Yes!"
Why wasn’t he moving?
He pulled his gun, reached behind him, and locked the door. Holding the gun on me, he reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a silencer. Oh shit. A silencer. Like a bad B-Rated movie. Watching me closely, he smiled as he slowly screwed the metal extension into place.
"Where is it?"
Shock, followed by horror, hit me. A cop? Not just Jones? What the hell was going on?
I lunged to the mirrored glass, intent on banging for Jake's help. He'd know. He'd save me again.
Wilson blocked me, smashing the butt of his gun against my cheek, and I crashed hard against a wooden chair, falling to the linoleum floor. Crap that hurt.
"Where is it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Sure, you do. The Matisse knock off.”
The Matisse? Knock off?
I'd sent all the paintings from Darnington to Professor Zander. I pictured the Professor. Thick white hair, his once fit body starting to curl in with age, and yet still the jovial man who'd taught hundreds of students. No way was I going to give this prick his name.
Hunting Hannah Page 5
