The coffees and pastry bag hit the floor as Hank’s arms close fully around me, dragging me in hard against him.
He straightens and my feet leave the floor. Seconds later, we’re back in his room, gentle and sweet left in the hall with our breakfast. I’m on the bed and Hank is crawling over me, each kiss like a hot claim.
His hand finds the sheet that’s somehow remained caught between us and he rips it aside, leaving me bare beneath him. Cool air meets my breasts, but only long enough for Hank’s eyes to burn over them. He lowers his head and takes one taut nipple into the heated cavern of his mouth, sucking and licking at the tip as he covers the other with a firm, kneading grasp.
“Yes,” I hiss, arching into the sensation, my legs shifting, squeezing restlessly together as each flick of his tongue and pinch of his fingers causes me to clench with need.
Kneeing my legs apart, he shifts lower, trailing those deep-suction kisses across the bottoms of my breasts and the lines of my ribs. He grips my hips, squeezes and then moves down to my thighs, where he slides his hand beneath. Another caress and squeeze, and then he’s parting my legs to kneel between.
Hot eyes take their fill of me, and he groans again, shouldering between my thighs and pressing at my knees until I’m completely open to him, spotlit by the warm morning sun. I’ve never been so exposed to a man. I’ve never been so turned on.
Lowering his head to my spread sex, he licks once and my hands fly to his hair, fingers threading through the dark strands.
Another slow pass that runs the length of me, and I’m crying out Hank’s name.
A deep, satisfied rumble against my sex is his answer, and then he’s kissing my slick folds, sucking gently and then less gently. Nibbling at the swollen flesh before giving me his tongue again. The flat of it in a hard, slow press, the pointed tip in a tight circle around that throbbing, aching spot, and the firm, sinking thrust, in and out, again and again.
He brings his thumb against me, using it to cover me in my own slickness as I clench and seize, thrashing against the sheet.
“Hank… oooh… Hank…” I’m so close. “Like that…” Need accumulates like a weight, heavy and hot, deep in my center. “Please…” Just a little more. “Don’t—don’t stop…”
He doesn’t. And when he gives me that deep growl, I rock my hips into his kiss and come so hard I see stars.
And then Hank’s hands are beneath my hips, gripping me tight as he pulls me down the bed, so I’m aligned beneath his groin.
One tug and the drawstring on his sleep pants is undone. He’s got them off and my God, he has the most beautiful body.
I reach between us and curve my hand over his straining shaft, stroking it as he reaches for a condom from the bedside stand.
He groans, tearing the wrapper open.
His shaft is thick and hot within my grip. Silky smooth.
“Your hands are driving me insane. I need to get inside you, baby.”
Baby. I love the way it rolls off his tongue.
With the condom on, he positions the broad head at my opening. He made me come less than five minutes ago, but already I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t have him inside me.
Breathing hard, he meets my eyes and pushes in. He only gives me the first inch, but already I can feel the stretch of my body, the tender muscles unaccustomed to this kind of use.
“You okay?” he asks, his restraint evident in every line of his face.
I nod. “Please, Hank, more.”
His hands fist against the bed at either side of me. “I can be gentle.”
Of that I have no doubt. This man could do anything if he thought it was what I needed. But now, what I want is something different. Cupping the side of his strong jaw, I brush my thumb across his lips.
“I don’t want gentle. Not this time.”
His nostrils flare and the cords along his neck stand out in starker relief.
“What do you want?” he asks, starting to move but only to the barest, maddeningly teasing degree. Just enough to hint at what’s to come, to make me wild for it.
My knees spread wider and I raise my hips in a plea for more. “I want you inside me. All the way.”
Every inch.
“All the way.”
Another shallow thrust, and then—oh God—he sinks deep, filling me to the hilt.
My breath rushes out around his name.
“Like that, beautiful?”
I’m nodding fast, overwhelmed by the way he fills me so completely. To the point I don’t think I can take any more, but then he gives it to me anyway and it’s even better.
He’s thrusting deep, each stroke pushing me closer to that place no one else has been able to take me so quickly. I want to watch his face, study his eyes, his mouth. But I’m so sensitive, so close. So overwhelmed by how good he feels inside me that my eyes drift closed and I lose myself to the sensation.
To the hoarse words washing warm against my ear as he moves over me.
“You feel so fucking good…”
“Abby…”
“Dreamed of this…”
“Baby…”
“Need to feel you come for me…”
It’s that last one that pushes me over the edge, that has everything inside me seizing tight and then falling apart in wave after wave of blissful pleasure.
Somehow Hank’s hands have found their way to mine. Our fingers are threaded together above my head and all I can think is that it’s going to kill me when I lose him again.
So I’m going to make the very most of every minute we have together until then.
HANK
“I STILL CAN’T believe you did this,” Abby says, snug within my arms as we sway beneath the glittering lights of the Wyse Hotel Grand Ballroom. “I can’t believe the look on my mom’s face. Have you ever seen her blush like that?”
I glance over my shoulder to our table where Abby’s Mom and Helen are eating up Jack’s unrelenting flirting. I know this is going to cost me my manhood, but it’s sweet. The girls are delighted, and yeah, Abby’s mom has a blush going, all right. I can only imagine what the guy is saying over there.
Turning back to Abby, whose hair is pinned back with a pair of gold barrettes I found in Prague for Christmas, I shrug.
“I wanted to surround myself with the most beautiful women I could find. I figured getting your mom to agree was the first step to getting you to come too. Helen was a bonus. It was a selfish, calculated move, so I probably don’t deserve those moony eyes you’re giving me.”
She laughs, and the sound of it is so pretty, I find myself jealously scanning the dance floor around us, wondering who heard it. If they’re as caught up in the sound as I am.
Her soft hand finds my jaw and brings my gaze back to hers.
“It’s the sweetest thing you could have done, and I love it. Thank you.”
The song ends and I drop a kiss at her temple, knowing full well it’s going to show up on the internet in about twenty-seven seconds. The press is eating up our “second-chance romance” and can’t get enough of Abby. She’s a little less enamored of them and the fact that I had to hire some muscle to make sure the press didn’t get too close. I’d still like to see her move into a building with better security—hell, I’d like to see her in my apartment—but she put her foot down the minute I mentioned it and hasn’t budged in two weeks. Not even when I offered to move Helen too. For now, this works.
We make our way back to our table and Abby immediately starts leaning on Jack, wanting to know what he’s saying to her impressionable mother.
I haven’t had a night at one of these events in years that didn’t feel like work, that I didn’t dread coming to, or see as an immense waste of time when I could have easily written a check and been done with the whole thing… but tonight I’m having fun. Tonight I’m surrounded by the people I’m myself with and it feels good.
“How about another drink, ladies?” I ask, running my thumb along the sexy line of Abby’
s spine.
She turns, offering the smile that’s just for me. The one I’m greedy for and possessive of and makes me want to forget her drink order altogether and tug her into some quiet space for the sole purpose of getting my mouth on her again.
Instead, I head over to the bar, nodding to a few familiar faces along the way. I give the bartender my order and ask if he’s got the score for the game. Slayers are in the lead by two, but before he can give me any more information on Chicago’s newest hockey team, Nate is cutting purposefully through the crowd.
Shit.
I don’t want to get caught up in work stuff tonight, but that’s the only thing Nate’s capable of thinking about. And honestly, the same would have been said of me up to two months ago.
“Having a nice evening, Nate?” I ask, trying to remember if he brought a date but coming up blank.
“Spectacular. I just heard from Michelle Dawson.”
He’s got my attention now. Michelle is one of SpaceWalk’s top execs and we’ve been working closely with her for the last year. But since the deal went south, it’s been radio silence.
“What’s she want? If it’s a job, she’s got it.” What I wouldn’t give to get that brain on my team. And after the way Walker screwed us, yeah, I wouldn’t mind sticking it to him… just a little.
Nate laughs, shifting his jaw to the side. “Don’t even think about trying to recruit her. She says the deal’s not dead.”
“What?”
He shrugs, but it’s clear from the gleam in his eyes that Nate is jacked.
And I’m not completely unaffected either. I wanted this deal with SpaceWalk. We worked our asses off to make it happen. And yeah, there was a part of me that wasn’t entirely broken up when I realized we wouldn’t be moving down to Florida after all, but now…
I catch Abby’s eye when I look back to our table. She’s having fun, laughing with Jack and Helen about something that has her beet red and fanning her face. I’m grateful for the time I wouldn’t have had with her if the deal had gone through as planned. Now that we’re together, I have the feeling we can make anything work.
Clapping Nate’s shoulder, I gather up the drinks. “Stay on top of it.”
“Absolutely, sir.”
ABBY
FAT FLAKES SWIRL through the chilly January air, rushing past the windshield as I drive home after school. It hasn’t been cool enough for the snow to stick until about a half an hour ago, so the roads are wet and just starting to freeze over. I would have been white-knuckling the wheel if I were driving, but tucked in the back of the SUV with Dan, Hank’s security guy, behind the wheel, I’m cozy and comfortable.
Hank’s ringtone sounds and I grin like the love-struck fool I am.
“Hey, handsome, how’s Germany?”
“I’m sure it’s gorgeous. But I haven’t been outside for two days, so I can’t be certain.”
“Poor baby. Such a workaholic and no one to blame but yourself.”
He laughs, sounding tired. “That’s the worst of it, isn’t it?” The car turns down my street and he asks, “You still play Scrabble?”
“Every chance I get.” Then, after a thought, “Though I should qualify that statement to say, not quite like we used to.”
His laugh rumbles through the phone, followed by a sigh it’s too easy to read too many things into.
“Check your phone. I sent a link to download an app.”
“Words with Friends? I already have it, but what’s your username?”
“Not Words with Friends, but similar in principle.” The muffled sound of his throat clearing hits my ears and I can practically see him looking away before returning to the phone and I wonder where he is—it has to be midnight there. “It’s customized.”
That last word has me forgetting about his unrelenting schedule and has the wheels of memory turning and taking me back to Hank’s basement. To the cool breeze blowing in through the basement window we kept open to hear if his parents came home early.
I can practically feel the cut-pile carpet against my knees as we sat on the floor, the game board between us and our tiles lined up across two trays apiece. The nervous anticipation and excitement over where the game would lead. Automatic triple points for sexy words. But only if we used it in a sentence. Last time we played, the game ended when I laid down SODDEN… the state of my panties when Hank flexes his big brain.
I remember the way Hank had swallowed hard, eyes locked on my lap as he swept the game aside and pulled me beneath him.
“Customized?” I ask as I download the app.
“For my rules.”
“Hank,” I whisper, wishing he wasn’t so far away.
I open the game and, sure enough, there are fourteen tiles displayed, and a spot to enter my sentence. “You… you made this?”
He laughs again. “I actually made it back in college. I was thinking about selling it, but then I realized I’d just been using it as an excuse to hold on to something from you.”
My heart hurts hearing him explain, but I love that those memories meant as much to him as they do to me.
“Anyway, when I saw you still had the Scrabble board at your place, I started thinking about it and decided to update the code to make it compatible with the latest operating systems.”
“How big is your brain?” I laugh, awed and delighted.
“Big enough to get one of the interns to make the changes.”
“I love it,” I say quietly.
“So you want to play?”
Biting my lip, I scan the tiles in my rack and then smile.
ACHING.
Definition: I’m aching for you to come back so I can show you just exactly what your big brain does to me.
“Abby? You there— Oh sweet, you played!” He sounds like a kid with a new toy, and then he groans and it’s all man. “Yeah, I’m aching myself. Can’t wait to get back tomorrow night.”
“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Alex Zimmons stopped by my room at lunch. He was beaming, Hank. Ninety-seven percent on the retake for his chemistry test.”
“He texted me earlier.” I can hear the grin in his words. “Got me busted doing a fist pump in the middle of a presentation I was supposed to be listening to.”
The mental image is too much. “I can’t believe a tenth grader has your direct line. Novak doesn’t even have it.”
Almost nobody does.
“Yeah, well. I like that kid.”
Alex had started showing up on the afternoons when Hank came in, volunteering to help him with setting up the lab. He worked his butt off and finally admitted to Hank that he was trying to show him that he could be a valuable member of the team… even though his grades didn’t make him look too smart.
Hank had been telling me about this boy for weeks by then, talking about how sharp he was. What a good thinker. And once he realized Alex was struggling, he sat down and started helping him try to catch up in some of his classes.
The man works more hours than anyone I’ve ever met. He didn’t have time… but he made some, and now I’m listening to him laugh about how jacked Alex was when he left the presentation to call him back and it’s making my heart do all the things I keep begging it not to.
I’m in too deep. And all the reasons I know are still there for me to try and get out, to put a little more distance between us… I’m starting to wonder if maybe I’m finally ready to let them go.
HANK
I’M PRETTY SURE there isn’t one damn thing better than coming home to Abby Mitchel waiting for me in my apartment. Her arms are tight around my neck, her heels kicked up as I carry her back through the doorway she just leapt out of. I’ve got her with one arm as I shrug off my bag and walk us straight to the wall, leaning into the soft give of her body.
She moans, pressing back against me with her hips and breasts.
I’ve only been gone a couple days but it feels like it’s been forever since I had my arms around her. Since I’ve tasted her kiss.
&nb
sp; Christ, I’m like a man possessed and she’s coming at me just as hard.
“You want it like this?” I ask, working her skirt up to her hips so I can get my hands on her ass. So I can reach between her legs and feel how wet she is.
I’m pretty sure my zipper ripping open accompanied by Abby moaning as she bites my bottom lip means she does. She’s got my cock in her hands, and as incredibly good as it feels, it’s not what I need.
“Please,” she says in the voice that tells me it’s not what either of us need.
My fingers twist in the sides of her panties and her breath catches.
Yeah, I told her what I was going to do the next time I got near her.
The delicate fabric rips within my grasp and falls.
Her eyes meet mine and hold as I bend my knees and find that slick, warm spot where her body gives for me. We stopped using condoms since she’s on the pill, so I’m right there, nothing between us. It’s so damn good and I haven’t even made it inside her yet.
I thrust.
“Hank!”
I’m buried deep, then rocking deeper, watching the pleasure play through her eyes as I pin her to my wall with my hips.
“I missed you,” she says, clutching at my chest.
“You too, baby.” So fucking much.
I’m lost in the pulsing grip of her body, the slick friction as I shaft into her, slow and hard. Our hips grind on every thrust, and the way she’s looking at me—Christ, I can see it in her eyes. I can feel it moving between us.
She’s not ready for the words.
But it doesn’t mean they aren’t there.
An hour later, we’re stretched out along the couch together. I’m reading takeout menus to her while she traces designs across my chest. It’s a quiet, perfect moment that ends too soon with someone hammering at my door.
“Jack?” Abby asks, climbing off the couch after me.
“Doubt it. Pretty sure he’s in London this week.” I know he is, because I asked him to stop in and see Abby a couple of times while I was going to be gone and he couldn’t.
But based on the force and urgency of that knock, I’m pretty sure I know who I’m going to find when I open the door. Just like I’m guessing when I un-silence my phone I’m going to find half a dozen calls from the same person.