The Perfect Secret

Chapter Fifteen

The ring of the doorbell echoed through the lonely apartment. Dan paused before he answered the door. Hannah was on the other side. Tess liked her. Was he ready? Maybe he was making a big deal out of nothing. Maybe he should let himself go this once. If Hannah was ready to give her brother a chance, maybe she could overlook Dan’s mistakes too. Hadn’t he paid enough for them? And if she could, there was no reason to hold himself back from her.

Squaring his shoulders, he pulled the door open. Raindrops spattered her jacket and darkened the ends of her hair to chocolate. She smelled of rain, vanilla, and something unique to her, and heat pooled low in his belly. She was here. They were alone at last. All the times he’d thought about her, dreamed about her, desired her, coalesced into one hot ball of need. He grabbed her hand and pulled her inside. His groin tightened and he pulled her close, capturing her lips with his as he tangled his fingers through her silky hair. She was his and she was glorious.

When she opened her mouth, he thrust his tongue inside, tasting her sweetness. He groaned. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her, how much he needed her, until this minute. If he were smart, he’d go slow, talk about his feelings, double check hers, make a plan. Running his hands down her back, his palms rounded over her backside. He pressed her against him and all thoughts of being smart, all thoughts, period, disappeared. Her sigh, or was it his, tickled his mouth as she moved her hips back and forth against him. He’d waited so long for her, wanting to make sure everything was perfect. Her movements were sure. Her desire was as great as his. The friction was exquisite torture. He couldn’t wait anymore and he backed her against the wall.

“Slow down,” she whispered against his lips. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

He trailed kisses down her neck. She whimpered as she tilted her head, exposing more of her skin for him to taste. For him to own.

“I need you,” he groaned, and ran his hands up and down her body, memorizing her curves as need built inside of him. He wanted to be inside of her, to be one with her. Preplanning be damned. Candles, roses, wine, they all could wait. His pulse pounded. He hardened as he pressed against her. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything but her. He couldn’t wait.

She wiggled against him and he fought to maintain the little control he had left. Oh god, he would lose it right now if she kept that up. Pulling away from her, dizzy with desire, he took her hand and led her farther inside his apartment. Hands shaking, he pushed her jacket off her shoulders, leaving it where it dropped on the floor. He stared into her eyes. Her lashes were long and her pupils were dilated, surrounded by bright green rims. He slid his fingertips beneath her sweater. Her skin was warm and smooth, begging him to explore further, but he wasn’t a barbarian. Pausing, he waited for her response. She bit her lip, raised and lowered her hands. When she nodded, he raised her sweater over her head, flinging it aside to join her jacket. He stared at her, breathless.

Creamy skin with a light smattering of freckles. Breasts that fit perfectly into his hands. She was perfect. He cupped her breasts through her navy lace bra and her nipples puckered at the contact. It was him. He was doing this. He was making her react to him. His chest swelled. As he admired them with his touch, she tugged at his T-shirt, pulling it out from his jeans. Thank God, she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Her hands on his bare skin made him hiss. Her touch was like a brand. He raised his arms over his head for her to continue undressing him. Never before had he wanted to be naked with someone as much as he did with her.

Bare chest to bare chest, their hot skin touched, igniting a fire of need in him that matched what he saw reflected in her eyes. Pupils dilated, lips parted, she kissed his brow, down the bridge of his nose and across to his cheekbones. His skin burned beneath her lips and coherent thought fled.

He shut his eyes, let the feel of her lips take over. Their noses touched, their cheeks brushed against each other as she mapped his face with her kisses. When she finally reached his mouth, he opened it hungrily, devouring her, thrusting his tongue against hers, battling for ultimate control.

He clenched his stomach as the backs of her fingers slipped between his pants and his stomach. A tugging at his waistband made him open his eyes. He stretched his mouth in a wicked grin as he reached for her jeans, unbuckling her belt and the metal clasp. He couldn’t wait for them to be naked together. When she pulled away from him, the cool air shocked him. He stifled a protest at the space, space he didn’t want between them. His disappointment disappeared when she shimmied out of her jeans. He watched her, his gaze drawn to parts of her she kept hidden. She stood there, motionless as his gaze moved from her toes to her head and down again. Her skin blushed along with his gaze and she stepped forward.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she murmured and reached once again for his waistband.

Reality returned as he realized his leg needed more support than the middle of the room could provide him. He cupped her jaw and gave her a searing kiss before he moved to the sofa. She followed. Standing in front of him, she unbuckled his belt. She pulled it out of his belt loops with agonizing slowness. He closed his eyes when her hands pulled at his zipper. The waiting was torture. The speed with which she’d met his demands disappeared. As if in slow motion, she pulled his jeans over his hips, inch by torturous inch. Finally, she lowered them over his hips. The physical evidence of his arousal was obvious. He ached for her to touch him. Instead, she spent what felt like hours staring at him. His pulse pounded in his ears. Goosebumps rose on his exposed flesh. She reached forward and touched him. Sheer bliss washed over him. It was all he could do not to come right there. She followed him as he sank into the sofa. This time, he wasn’t letting her go. He reached for her to draw her into his lap, but she shook her head. Instead, she knelt in front of him. His eyes widened. She pulled off his pant legs, and traced his scar along his leg with her tongue. He shivered with desire so great, his hips bucked. Her tongue traveled up his leg. He’d never been so turned on. His breath came out as harsh gasp as he panted with need. When he could bear it no longer, he pulled her against him, letting her body slide against his, friction setting off sparks of desire with increasing potency. They leaned sideways, and stretched out with her on top of him.

He clasped her bottom with shaking hands. Their mouths joined, his tongue plunging inside her. Their bodies rocked together. He bucked beneath her, unable to wait a moment longer.

“Hold on,” he ground out. He fumbled for his jeans and pulled out a condom.

“You’re such a boy scout,” she whispered. “Always prepared.” Eyes filled with longing, she shimmied out of her panties. He fumbled with the condom wrapper. Who the hell made them so small and well-sealed?

She took it from him with a gleam in her eye, her hands sliding over his.

“Mine,” she said.

He almost lost it right there. She ripped open the package and slid it on him, the ache of her touch exquisite torture. He wanted her. He needed her right now.

He pulled her toward him, but she arched away. She was a tease, touching him only with her lips on his mouth. His body shook with desire. Her tongue plunged deeper, imitating what he longed to do to her.

“Hannah, I can’t bear this,” he groaned against her. More than just the physical coupling, he needed her to become one with him. He needed the connection.

He jerked as her fingers circled him. His head pounded with every massage and squeeze she gave. No longer able to let her take complete control, he inserted his fingers into her wetness. Now it was she who shuddered. She wriggled and gasped beneath his hand. When he couldn’t hold out a minute longer, she rose on her knees and came down upon him.

She was tight and warm and perfect. This is what he had been waiting for. He fit inside her as if their bodies were meant for each other. They rocked together, finding their rhythm. He climbed higher and higher, eking out every last bit of pure pleasure. He could see the peak, feel it. His muscles contracted, his focus narrowed. But he needed her to come first. She deserved that much consideration at least. He listened to her moans of desire, and they increased his own pleasure. He caressed her breasts, rubbing his thumbs across their peaks. She flung her head back and screamed. It was all he needed. Pressure built deep within him. Blood pounded in his ears. Oh God, the wait was over. He closed his eyes. Lights flashed behind his lids. His body exploded, and he shouted his release.

Collapsing on top of him, Hannah buried her head into his neck and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. His breathing was ragged and matched hers. Against his chest, her heart pounded. Her back was slick with sweat as he trailed his fingers up and down her spine. He inhaled her scent as peace descended around him. More than just joining their bodies, they’d joined their souls. He hadn’t felt this close to another woman in years. He loved her.

He drifted on the edge of sleep, enjoying the weight of her body on top of him, uniting them. After a while, she kissed his jaw. He turned his head toward her, blue eyes meeting green. She caressed his forehead. He kissed the palm of her hand and stared at her pink flushed cheeks.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and pulled her into the crook of his arm. He thought about saying “I love you,” but the words stuck in his throat. He needed to tell her the truth first.

“So are you,” she said.

He drew her close and they rested against each other. They dozed and when he finally woke up, she lay next to him, staring at him.

“That was amazing. And unexpected.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but he wasn’t sure he wanted her to.

“Well,” he said, “spontaneity is a good thing, right?”

She stroked his cheek and he studied her face, trying to see what she was thinking. Flashes of emotion danced across her eyes—happiness, confusion, and something he couldn’t define. They’d just had sex. Their bodies had become one. He should know what she was thinking, what the unidentified emotion was. But he was afraid to ask. He didn’t want to spoil the moment. His stomach growled and he chuckled with relief. He reached for his clothes. “Can I make you something to eat—omelet?”

“Perfect.”

And it would have to be. For now.

Hannah was supposed to think about tough interview questions, like, “What are your worst qualities?” or “Why are you leaving your current job?” Instead, as she stuck gold loops in her ears and redid her hair for the fourth time, she thought about sex. Sex with Dan, to be specific. And what it meant, or didn’t.

The first time they’d fooled around, he hadn’t wanted to have sex because it needed to mean something.

Well, they had sex last night, and he didn’t say anything about what it meant. Or what she meant to him. She climbed in the cab and gave the driver the address. Was she too emotional, thinking he needed to declare his feelings for her, or define their relationship, after having sex?

She didn’t tell him she thought she was falling in love with him, so why did she expect him to say something to her?

Because she’d been about to say something, and he’d changed the subject with food. And she let him. She was no better than he was, but her pride still stung.

Hannah traveled alone in the elevator, watching the floor numbers tick upwards and feeling her palms dampen as she approached twenty-one. When the bell dinged and the door opened, she squared her shoulders and stepped into the reception area of the boutique PR firm.

She hadn’t interviewed since she’d left college five years ago and her heart beat fast in her chest. With a quick glance around the cream and taupe reception area, she walked to the desk and smiled. “Hi, I’m Hannah Cohen. I’m here for an interview with Barbara James.”

The receptionist directed Hannah to a plush dark taupe sofa to wait. To keep occupied, she studied the magazine covers framed on the walls—case studies and publicity for clients and maybe the firm, if she had to guess.

“Hannah, I’m Barbara James.”

A small, plump, friendly looking woman held out her hand. Hannah rose, grasped it, and couldn’t help but smile in return. “Nice to meet you.”

“Come on back to my office. I’m impressed with your résumé. You’ve experienced some wonderful opportunities for someone so young.”

Barbara’s office credenza was filled with photos—people Hannah assumed were family, friends, and clients. On the walls were more magazine covers and articles.

“I remember that campaign.” Hannah pointed to a start-up technology company. “I loved the way you turned the tide from a cold technology company to a company whose products reflected the need to care for the community.”

Barbara smiled. “It was one of my favorites. I try to convey warmth and connection in both my personal and professional life. My employees are like family, as are my clients. If I can’t relate to a person, I don’t want to hire them or work with them. We specialize in what I like to call Hallmark moments, although I shouldn’t call them that since they’re not our client.” She grinned and pointed Hannah to a seat across from her blond wood desk.

Hannah crossed her legs. “So you create stories for your clients that convey emotions.”

“Exactly. We want the public to patronize a company because it makes them feel good, because they admire their values—whatever those may be—because they’re more than an economic beast.”

Hannah bit her lip. This was exactly what she wanted, but she’d tried to do it with Fortex and look where that had landed her. If Barbara did any investigating into her previous job, she’d never hire her.

Barbara reviewed her résumé and asked questions about her experience. When she reached the end, she laid it on her desk, folded her hands and pinned her gaze on Hannah. “So, why are you leaving your current position?”

Hannah’s neck grew warm and a drop of sweat dripped down her back. How honest could she be? An image of Jim flashed through her mind. If she couldn’t be honest with her boss, and if her boss couldn’t believe her, she didn’t want to work with him or her. With a deep breath, she told Barbara about Fortex, leaving out the names of everyone involved.

Barbara leaned back in her chair. “Based on what you just told me, I think you’re a perfect fit.”

Hannah’s mouth dropped.

“While I understand the difficult situation your boss was in, the difference is, here I will always back my employees. While the client is always right, it doesn’t mean my employees are always wrong. I am selective in what companies I take on and I do an exhaustive check into their backgrounds before I agree to represent them. In your boss’ position, I would have dropped the client, not you.”

“But how can you run a business that way?”

“You’d be surprised.” She slid a folder across her desk to Hannah. “Take a look at who we are, what we do, and what you would do if you worked here. Let’s both take a few days to think and talk again on Friday. In the meantime, I’ll check your references.”

Speechless, Hannah nodded and left the office.

Later that night, she reviewed the company folder. Her favorable opinion of the boutique firm increased. She’d gain valuable experience by broadening her duties and responsibilities. The campaigns the firm created and the companies they represented were impressive. And she’d be getting a pay raise to boot.

She’d be on pins and needles until she heard back from Barbara. For the first time in a long time, she was excited about her job.

Dan scrolled through financial statements, but his brain wasn’t focused on numbers. It had been two days since he’d seen Hannah—two days too long. He missed the touch of her hand—the way her skin felt smooth beneath his, the unexpected delicate feel of her bones when their fingers were intertwined. She was strong, stronger than she looked. The contrast intrigued him.

He missed the closeness he’d experienced when he was inside of her, arms and legs entwined. Their breaths mingled, their hearts beat together and their bodies moved as one. They connected in a way he hadn’t shared with anyone in a long time. She was the first person he’d wanted to have sex with since his wife.

He missed her vanilla-scented perfume when he buried his face in her neck, the berry flavor of her mouth when he kissed her. He missed the peace that settled over him when she leaned into him. Hell, he missed how she pushed him to test his physical limits and made his leg ache when he was with her, how she was solicitous yet not pitying.

Dammit, he missed everything about her, which was ridiculous, because they’d been together on Monday. And they would see each other this coming weekend. He was a grown man. Why couldn’t he be away from her?

Fear settled in the pit of his stomach. His hands grew cold. He wasn’t dependent on her, was he? It was one thing to care about someone. It was a different thing to be unable to be away from them. He’d been drawn to her from the start—it was a relief when he realized she felt the same way. But was this something more? Like someone testing a wound to see how painful it was, he poked and prodded at his feelings for Hannah and his desire to be with her. Maybe not seeing her for the next few days was a good thing.

He pushed away from his desk in disgust and ran a hand over the top of his head. His phone rang. Spinning around in his chair, he banged his leg against the desk. With a muttered oath, he answered the phone.

“Dan Rothberg.”

“Whoa, it’s Lisa. Not sure who you’re mad at, but it can’t be me.”

He let out a whoosh of air. “Sorry, Lisa. What can I do for you?”

“Did you look at the affidavits from the charities?”

“Yeah, I did. Great work. We’ve got everything lined up. Thanks.” He massaged his knee.

“Okay, let me know if you need anything else. Or if you need girlfriend advice.”

He sputtered. Was it that obvious? Her laughter told him it was. Except the advice he needed—determining if his attachment to Hannah was healthy—couldn’t come from her. “I will. Thanks.”

“No problem. But next time I might persuade you to tell me details.”

He shook his head as he hung up. He was losing it. The phone rang again, but this time it was his cell. Hannah. His heartbeat increased. “Hey, I was thinking about you,” he said. In a matter of seconds, all his anxiety melted away.

“It must be why my nose is itching. Or are my ears supposed to ring?”

He laughed. “I have no idea, but it sounds like allergies and that can’t be good.”

“Not as good as your kisses.”

His face heated. He glanced at the door to make sure it was shut. Pulling his collar away from his neck, he cleared his throat.

“Oh, did I embarrass you?” She sounded surprised. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just didn’t expect it.”

“Mmm, I’m full of surprises.”

This was the Hannah he’d missed. His Hannah?

“So, I have news and I’d rather tell you in person,” she said. “I wish it wasn’t so long until the weekend.”

He glanced at his calendar. “Want to slip away and meet now? It’s almost lunchtime.”

“Can we do that?”

He laughed again. “We’re adults. In theory, we can do whatever we want.” There was silence on the other end of the line, interrupted by a keyboard clicking.

“Okay, let’s meet in Chelsea, the corner of 5th Avenue and 30th Street, in say, twenty minutes?”

“Great.” He hung up, told his assistant he was going out, and made his way to the subway. He had no idea what her surprise could be. Nineteen minutes later, he waited on the agreed-upon corner, hand tapping the top of his cane. A flash of red caught his eye and he turned in time to see Hannah in a red coat, her smile illuminating the entire street corner.

“I’m glad you came.” Placing her hand on top of his cane for balance, she stood on tiptoe. Berry lips met his, vanilla engulfed him, smooth fingers caressed the nape of his neck. He was drowning. The knot tightened.

With a groan, he pulled her close, feeling her soft breasts against his chest, her narrow hips against his. He nipped her lips, stroked her hair, entwining strands around his fingers. Soft and silky, her hair twisted around his wrist. With reluctance, he pulled away. “God, I can’t get enough of you,” he said, his voice hoarse with longing. That was his problem.

She stroked his cheek and her blue eyes sparkled. “You’re pretty irresistible yourself.”

He raised his cane. “Yeah, a total babe magnet.” Because she couldn’t be as desperate for him as he was for her.

She took it out of his hands and used it as a shepherd’s crook to reel him in. “You’re good just as you are.”

He exhaled, took back his cane, and stepped out of the line of pedestrian traffic that flowed around them. “So, what news do you have?”

She told him about her job interview, described Barbara and the company philosophy. “Can you believe what she said?”

“I think she makes some interesting points,” he answered when she finished her recitation. “It’s heartwarming to hear about a company with honor. Have you looked over her materials yet?”

“Last night. I’m going for a second interview. I hope they offer me the position. I really want this job.”

“They’d be lucky to have you. Even if you don’t take this job, it’s nice to know other alternatives are out there.”

She shrugged. They continued walking, hand in hand, until she stopped in front of a gallery. “Look at these pictures. Do you have time to go in?”

“Sure.”

Entering the austere white-on-white space, the owner invited them to look around. With a nod, they walked the perimeter of the room and studied the photographs hanging on the walls. Most were black and white portraits. Dan admired the poses and composition when he wasn’t analyzing his attraction to Hannah.

Was a never-ending desire to be with her normal? Did other people in love feel this, or only former addicts?

“Look at this one,” Hannah said. She pointed to one of a mother and baby. He dragged his focus away from his thoughts and followed Hannah’s finger. The photo showed half of their profiles, noses touching.

“It’s excellent, but did you notice the one over there?” He led her to one of a couple sitting on a bench, facing away from the camera. Through the slats of the bench, you could see their arms entwined around each other. How attached to each other were they? How would it compare to his feelings for Hannah? “Something about this reminds me of us.”

“Is it the grey hair?” Hannah asked.

He shook his head at her, unable to speak.

She gave him a hug. “I like it also. I was teasing.”

“I know.” Or he hoped.

They waved to the owner.

Outside the gallery, Hannah paused. “You seem off today,” she said. “Did something happen?”

They strolled along the street, window-shopping. “No. I just….” He turned to her and kissed her lips. “I just missed you.” And I’m terrified about what it means.

She gave him a look like she knew he was leaving information out. He was, because he remembered the last time he’d felt this pull, this lack of control. And it had almost cost him his daughter.