Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
COLE
D espite it being the middle of the night, I’m awake, my mind sifting through pieces of information like scraps of confetti scattered on the wind.
“Noooo.” Hannah Grace fidgets in her sleep, her body tense as she fights a nightmare.
Fuck. I should have seen this coming. We’ve been combing through the stack of letters I printed out every night for the last three nights.
Night number one had been her recapping her win as Miss Tennessee and going through the first few letters she had received from her pen pal, Eric.
Not that I believe that’s likely his real name.
How do you know it’s a him?
Yes, I had made that assumption. But something in my gut told me I was right.
For every letter we went through, Hannah Grace would provide an explanation of how she responded—what she remembered. The first few had large gaps because she hadn’t thought anything more about it other than it being a piece of fan mail no different from the rest she had received after being crowned.
The only difference was that Eric had continued writing. Sometimes a letter a week, sometimes more. Once there was even a two-week gap between letters. But frequent or not, they continued.
And as we read them, as Hannah Grace explained her responses, I took notes on places, topics mentioned, dates.
Then came the letters from the second night. The same tone as those from the first night until we got to the last one. The one where Eric admitted how he felt.
You don’t know what these letters have meant to me. How happy I am to see an envelope addressed to me with your pretty handwriting on it. These last few weeks, you’ve become someone I can’t imagine not having in my life. I love you, Hannah Grace. And I imagine you telling me you feel the same. How could you not with everything we’ve talked about? Lately, all I can think about is walking up to you on campus at that coffee shop you study at—the one near your elementary education class. I tell you who I am and you smile at me the way you smiled on stage that night when they asked you your interview question. You’ll be wearing a blue dress when we meet too. Not a ball gown, but something better. One that matches your eyes and highlights your breasts. Do you know how often I imagine them pressed against me? What they would feel like? What your lips taste like? But nothing will beat the real thing. When I come to you, you’ll know me the same way that a soul recognizes its mate. We’re meant to be.
I can’t erase the image of Hannah Grace’s face out of my mind as I had read that letter, stumbling over the words and trying not to fist the paper into my hand and throw it into the garbage. Her expression had shifted from curious and thoughtful to one of fear. Of shame.
Tonight’s letters had been harder to process, and we weren’t even through the last of them. But I kept stopping, trying to give Hannah Grace breaks, even when she denied needing them. I couldn’t ignore how tightly she clung to me every time we put the letters to the side. How she refused to move from my lap as we read the last two for the night.
Why didn’t you answer me, Hannah Grace? I hate that you didn’t. I hate waiting for your letter only to have it not come. I couldn’t have surprised you with my confession. It’s so obvious how much I love you. How much I want to be with you. Do you need the words in person? I can always come to you. What if I came and told you in person how in love with you I am? How much I want to be with you? How I know we’ll be together forever?
Another letter after Hannah Grace apparently hadn’t responded.
What the fuck? Why are you ignoring me? You don’t strike me as the kind of bitch to do that. You’re kind. You love me. Just as much as I love you. You have to. There’s no other choice but for you to be with me. Have you been too busy with school and your obligations? I’m trying to be patient, Hannah Grace. But my patience will only last so long .
She had been fucking shaking by the time we finished that one.
Each letter was always signed with “Sincerely, Eric.” The return address was addressed as Eric Carle and an address in an apartment complex in Nashville that had been torn down two years ago. And it turns out Eric Carle wrote The Very Hungry Caterpillar , one of the books that Hannah Grace had been studying in her elementary education class. The one that “Eric” had mentioned in relation to the coffee shop where she liked to study.
Hannah Grace whimpers in her sleep, and I tighten my arm around her waist, pulling her back against my chest and pressing my lips against her bare shoulder. I don’t want to go through any more letters. Not if they are going to cause this. And the remaining ones are the worst of the bunch.
“Cole.” My name is a soft cry on her lips, her shoulders beginning to shake as the light I left on in the bathroom highlights the silver tracks of tears on her face.
“I’m here, Honey Girl. I’m right here,” I whisper.
Fuck, I can’t stand to witness this. But she has school tomorrow; she needs rest. Her brain needs the break from the darkness we’ve been reading.
Yeah, because she’s absolutely getting a break right now .
The nightmare will fade.
Because it has so far? How long are you going to make her suffer?
Fuck.
“Han—”
“Noooo!” She bolts upright and her scream echoes through the bedroom.
“Baby, it’s fine. I’m here. I’m right here. You’re safe.” I sit up, keeping my arm wrapped around her shoulders as sobs rack her body.
I continue to murmur the reassurances, moving my free hand up and down her back until her sobs slow to hiccups and even when she can take a deep breath. But the tension never leaves her.
“Honey Girl?”
She turns toward me, throwing her arms around me and flattening us both. I surround her with my arms, her cheek pillowed against my chest as my heart thumps against her ear.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.
She shakes her head, her silky hair tickling my side.
“No.”
“I don’t think we should keep reading those letters.”
“There’s only a few left. We need to send the information to Sawyer and Sydney.”
“ I need to get the info to the two of them.”
She lifts her head, her eyes sparkling even in the darkness.
“What are you saying?”
“Hannah Grace, these letters are hurting you. Whoever this guy Eric is, he’s a fucking psycho. What he wrote is disgusting. You don’t need to keep reading these. You don’t need to relive this shit. I can’t stand how much they’re impacting you.”
I lift my hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear and running my index finger along her jaw.
“You’re reading them,” she points out.
“And I’m ready to tear whoever wrote them limb from fucking limb. And I know the last few letters are the worst of the bunch.”
“I can do it.” Her fingers clench into fists against my ribs.
“I have no doubt you can, Honey Girl. But you don’t have to.”
“You listen to me, Cole Matthew Strickland. I will finish reading these letters. With or without you. Wouldn’t you rather be next to me when I read them?”
“If I had my way, you wouldn’t at all,” I grit out through my clenched jaw.
The fact that she triple named me means I’m not winning this argument. But I at least have to try.
“That’s not one of your choices,” she tells me.
It’s the same thing she tells her students when she gives them the options they have when things start to go sideways.
“Are you teachering me right now?”
“Teachering? Is that a word?” Her nose wrinkles as her lips stumble over the word.
“I have no idea. But I’ve heard you use that choice phrase in your class before.”
Her lips twitch, and relief floods my limbs with the knowledge that she’s at least a little distracted from the nightmare that woke her.
“What happens when I say that?”
“The kids make a choice,” I grumble.
“What choice?” she presses.
“The one you want them to make.”
She can’t hide her smile anymore, and it stretches across her face.
“So what answer are you going to give me?”
I sigh, closing my eyes as my arms shift from the small of her back and my hands skate along her ass.
“I’m with you, Hannah Grace. Whatever you want to do. I may not like it. But it’s your choice.”
“Good boy,” she crows and drops her lips to mine.
Her tongue teases the seam of my lips, and my fingers flex into the smooth skin of her hips until she moans, arching into me.
I try to ignore the heat of her pussy against my lower stomach and the way her nipples pebble against my chest. Now isn’t the right time. She’s scared, vulnerable. And I need to have more self-control than a randy goat.
But my good intentions fray as her tongue penetrates my lips, finding mine as she rolls her hips. I grip her hips tighter, stilling her movements, and she breaks the kiss.
“What’s the matter?” she asks.
Her lips find my chin, tracing along my jaw, until her tongue can rim my ear.
Be strong, be strong, be—oh, who the fuck are you kidding?
I groan and lift my hips, grinding against her as my dick slides through her folds.
“We…should…stop.” I have to fight to get the words out when they’re the last thing I want to do.
Her fingernails scratch lightly through the hair on my chest.
“Why?” Her question should be innocent, but the way her hands and hips move against my body makes it anything but.
“I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
Fuck. It should not be this hard to string together a coherent sentence.
Then again, I’ve never had to think rationally when this woman is naked in my arms.
“You’re not,” she says, slipping a hand between us to wrap around my cock.
My eyes flutter closed, rolling back in my head as she runs her thumb over the tip.
My hips buck, unable to control themselves under her gentle, persistent touches.
“Honey Girl,” I groan while praying for control.
She sits up, ass against my thighs, and uses both hands on my dick. Her breasts sway with her movement, highlighted by the light from the bathroom, and my mouth waters for a taste.
“You’re killing me,” I tell her, covering her hands with mine and stilling the torture.
Her fingers lace with mine and she drags our joined hands to her stomach.
“Cole,” she whispers.
I drag my attention away from her pink-tipped breasts to meet her gaze.
“Make love to me.” Every wall she’s held, every hesitation and doubt that has existed every other time I’ve studied her, is gone. Eradicated.
The only thing that remains is…love.
Surging up, I bracket her face with my hands and bring my lips within millimeters of hers.
“I love you, Hannah Grace.”
It’s not the first time I’ve said those words since we’ve reconnected. And more often than not, she immediately kisses me, telling me without words that she feels the same.
“I…” She swallows, her tongue peeking out and slicking along her lips. “I love you, Cole.”
The flavor of my name is still on her lips when mine close over them. Elation fizzes through my blood, rocketing me into the heavens. Our tongues circle one another, and I run my hands down her sides until they cup her ass and squeeze.
Breaking the kiss, I press a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck and collarbone, using the leverage of where she rests against my legs to boost her until my lips can wrap around one of her nipples.
She mewls, arching against my mouth as her fingers tunnel through my hair.
“Tell me again,” I say, shifting to her other breast and dragging that peak into my mouth.
“I…love…you,” she pants.
“I love you.” I kiss the tip of one breast. “I love you.” Then the tip of the other. “I love you.”
This time my lips find the spot above her heart.
“I love you.” My gaze locks with hers as I repeat the words.
She lifts her hand, palm resting against my cheek, and I turn my head so I can brush a kiss against her hand.
“Show me,” she whispers.
In a blur, I shift us until she’s beneath me and I’m cradled between her thighs.
Using my lips, I brush kisses against her forehead, each of her eyelids, the tip of her nose, the right cheek followed by the left, one corner of her mouth before the other, finally settling my lips more fully against hers, allowing our tongues to glide together. Her hands grip my biceps, fingernails digging into my skin, and her legs wrap around my waist, tempting me to speed up. To go faster.
But I force the temptation aside, content to move at this unhurried pace.
She moans, the sound trapped in the merging of our mouths.
How is it possible that I got so lucky as to get a second chance with this woman? My lips continue their pilgrimage, finding spots along her neck, just below her earlobe and the pulse point at the base where I spend time learning the texture of the vibration of her pulse beneath my lips, the exact spot that makes her breath catch. Only then do I continue my exploration.
Her shoulders. The inside of her elbow, the pulse point of her wrist.
The entire line of her collarbone.
The valley between her breasts.
Her hips squirm against the bed, and my hands hold her in place.
“ Please .”
I trace a path up the slope of her breast, my tongue orbiting her nipple, before dragging the flat edge against the hard peak.
“ Cole .”
“I’m going to savor every inch of you, Honey Girl. Worship you with my lips.” I press a kiss against the berry-colored tip. “My tongue.” I shift my attention to her other breast and drag my tongue across the hard bud in the center. “My teeth.”
Sucking her breast into my mouth, I close my teeth over her nipple, my cock jumping with her breathy cry. Despite the need I have to sink into her as fast as I can, to get us both there, I take my time. I learn the edge of her nipple with my tongue, the change in textures as it hardens further in my mouth. I spar with the tip, tapping it with my tongue before wrapping my lips around it, occasionally adding my teeth. While I map one breast with my mouth, I lift my hand to the other, molding the globe with my hand then dragging my fingers over the tip before I use my forefinger and thumb to pluck and twist.
Then I switch and start over again.
Her back arches, pressing her breasts forward as they continue to beg for my attention. Her husky cries grow louder, her fingernails scraping along my scalp as her hips shift against the bed. Finished memorizing the second breast, I switch back, nipping at one tip while my fingers twist the other. Her hips spasm.
“Oh my God , Cole. Please.”
She tries to lift her hips to make me move.
“Please.”
“I’m not done with your breasts, Honey Girl. I’ve missed too many years of tasting their sweetness to speed through this process.”
Flattening my tongue, I lave first one nipple followed by the second. Her fingers tighten in my hair and she tugs, the sharp edge of pain something I enjoy.
“Are you close?” I ask before peppering the underside of one breast with kisses. My lips trace a line under her breasts.
“Yes. Yes .”
Her answer intensifies as I suck one breast back into my mouth while I trace one hand down her stomach. My finger slides easily through her folds and finds her clit, and her legs shake at the first pass of my thumb over the hard bundle of nerves.
“You’re so wet for me. I fucking love it,” I murmur against her rib cage and trail kisses to her navel. “Your pussy wants my mouth as much as your breasts do.”
I dip my tongue into her navel and she squirms at the ticklish caress.
“More.”
My lips continue south, stopping at the edge of her pubic bone.
“Cole.”
“Patience, Honey Girl. Good things come to those who wait.”
Shifting up, I lift one of her legs until my lips can find the arch of her foot. My dick weeps with my own need, but I push its demands to the side, focusing on the delicate curve of her ankle, the sensitive skin behind her knee. I graze my fingers along the sensitive skin of one thigh, circling higher until my fingers skim her slick folds.
Her fingers clench the sheets at her hips, her back bowing off the bed as pleasure continues to build. But I can build that flame hotter. For both of us. I reluctantly move my hand to her other thigh, retreating down the smooth skin while I lift that leg, tickling behind her knee with my lips before tracing the arch of her instep with my thumb.
“Cole.”
I stay focused, sure that if I don’t, I’m going to lose the little bit of control I have left.
“I need you. Please.”
Her words, coupled with the way her hips move against me, are severing the leash of my control one thread at a time—and it was already frayed to begin with.
“Soon.” I’m not sure who the promise is to—her or me.
But I settle between her thighs, lifting her legs onto my shoulders and pressing her thighs back farther with my hands. The moment stretches, the tension winding tighter and tighter, a rubber band ready to snap.
“Fuck,” I whisper the word and close my eyes.
Patience. It’s what I told Hannah Grace. But mine is wearing thin as I close the distance between my lips and her pussy and feather a soft breath against her.
“Cole— ohhhh .”
I snake my tongue along her slit, back to front. Her legs spasm against my hands and I increase my grip, doubling down as I turn my focus to her clit. I circle the hard bundle of nerves with my tongue before tapping a rhythm against it. Her hands slide through my hair, snagging on the strands to grip them tightly. As soon as her body figures out the rhythm of my tongue, I switch it up, circling her clit again before sucking it into my mouth. My cheeks hollow with the suction I apply, and she cries out as her breath breaks.
Using my shoulders to hold her legs open, I free one of my hands and slide my index finger through her folds to press it knuckle deep. Her muscles pull at the digit, pulsing around it as I continue to push. I add a second finger, scissoring the two of them before I bring them back together and withdraw them almost completely.
“I’m so close. Don’t stop.”
I flatten my tongue, swiping against her before I turn my head and nip at the inside of her thigh. She jumps and her hips lift and fall as she attempts to ride my fingers that rim her opening. I slide them back in, running my tongue over her clit again and again. I don’t stop, only switch what I’m doing as I drive her higher, crooking my fingers until they find the spot that makes her legs lock against my back.
Her pussy clamps on my two fingers, and her whimper turns into a loud moan as her orgasm takes over, detonating her around my fingers. I take one last swipe against her with my tongue before I crawl up her body, lining myself up and sliding in as her orgasm still shakes through her.
“ Oh God .”
“Fuck, Honey Girl. You’re going to make me come.” Her pussy milks my cock and I grit my teeth.
“Isn’t that the idea?” The smile is clear in her question.
I open my eyes to confirm my suspicions before dropping my mouth to hers, tangling our tongues as I withdraw from her heat. She locks her legs around my waist and I snap my hips forward, bumping my pelvis against hers.
“Not until I make you come again,” I whisper against her lips.
“Together.”
“Together,” I confirm.
I slide my hands to her hips, holding her as I roll us, and she settles her legs on either side of my waist. She meets my thrusts, rubbing her pelvis against mine, and it’s like the first lightning strike in a storm that’s building.
Fuck, I’m not going to last. Not the way her pussy grips me. Not the way her breath breaks on my name as her hands grip mine. She falls forward, her hair tickling my face. I take advantage, leaning up enough to tongue one of her nipples before sucking it into my mouth. Her rhythm falters and I release her hands to palm her ass, keeping her hips moving against mine as I piston my hips.
“C-C-Cole.”
Releasing her breast with a pop, I increase my tempo as her pussy tightens further. The storm is picking up strength, almost on top of us, and I strain to hold on.
“I know, baby.”
I use my mouth on her other breast, flexing my fingers against her ass as my tongue spars with her nipple. She meets each of my thrusts, each of her breaths accompanied by little sounds of pleasure that are wrenching my control from me. My orgasm races down my spine and I can’t hold it back.
“Come with me, Honey Girl.” I release her breast long enough to murmur the words before closing back over her nipple, sinking my teeth into the sensitive skin and tugging sharply. Her pussy clamps down like a vise and I’m done.
Lightning arcs from my balls and shatters my body into a million pieces of light as my orgasm overtakes me. I release her breast, wrapping my arms around her and drawing her to me, holding on to her as we come together.
“I love you, Cole. I love you.”
If I thought my orgasm was powerful before, it’s nothing compared to the music of those words moaned in my ear.
“Fuck, Honey Girl, I love you too.”
After that, words are impossible as the pleasure finishes claiming us. Once it ebbs, she’s sprawled on my chest as my hands trace nonsensical patterns along her back. She sighs and her breath tickles my chest as she shifts her hand next to her face, over my heart.
“I could stay like this all day,” she murmurs, drawing a heart where mine beats beneath her fingers.
“Me too.”
She lifts her head, and my gaze locks with hers.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I meant what I said. It wasn’t an in-the-moment thing. I love you.”
“I’m never going to get tired of those words on your lips, Honey Girl.” Shifting us, I’m able to press a relatively chaste kiss against her lips. “I love you.”
Our lips find each other’s again and my dick twitches, readying for round two.
The blare of the alarm nixes that idea.
“Fuck.” I sigh, dropping my head back against the pillow.
Her giggle is infectious as she stretches across me to turn it off.
“Time to get ready for school,” she tells me, smacking a kiss to my lips.
“I don’t wanna go to school,” I whine and draw another giggle from her.
Fuck, I love that sound.
But I should have known, it wasn’t going to last. Reality intrudes as we leave the house, her demeanor growing quiet. We’re almost to school when she releases her abused lip and turns toward me.
“Can I ask you something?”
I squeeze her hand that’s been laced with mine since we left the house.
“Of course.”
“What happens if we don’t find whoever is doing this?”
Not an option.
“We’re going to find him.”
Her sigh is one of weariness. Of losing hope.
“You can’t promise that.”
“I won’t give up, Honey Girl. Not until I find this bastard.”
“What if it’s not a man? It’s not like that’s for sure.”
Fuck. She’s right. There’s no certainty who this person is.
“You’re right. But my gut is telling me it’s a man. Although I hate using that word to describe him. A real man doesn’t scare a woman.”
“But what happens if rereading these letters, if starting from square one, doesn’t help?”
“I-I’m not sure. We’ve never had that happen before,” I admit. “It’s always worked.”
“But what if it doesn’t?”
She pulls her hand away, turning toward the window and wrapping her arms around herself. I don’t want to make empty promises. And given that we’ve never faced a situation where we weren’t successful, anything I say right now would be exactly that. An empty promise.
We pull into the parking lot and Zach is already waiting. But Hannah Grace doesn’t offer much of a greeting before she heads for the school, leaving the two of us behind.
“Did something else happen?” Zach asks as I lock Hannah Grace’s car.
“Not a fucking thing,” I growl.
He looks over at me, eyebrows raised.
“Sorry. We’re just hitting a lot of dead ends. Hannah Grace is worried that we’re not going to find whoever’s doing this. She’s now even questioning if it’s a man.”
“Really?” He badges into the school and grabs the door, holding it open until I grab it from him.
“Yeah. But my gut is telling me different. It’s a man. But there’s no connection anywhere. And nothing from the letters she got as Miss Tennessee. It’s driving me fucking crazy.”
We stop in front of the gym with no sign of Hannah Grace.
Fuck.
“So what’s the plan now?”
“We still have two suspects left. A guy who used to work for the pageant who lives a mile from Hannah Grace and the grocery store guy. Thanks for that partial plate by the way. It seriously helped us find him.”
“Yeah, no problem. Anything I can do to help keep Hannah Grace safe.”
“My team is still exploring both to see what else we can find, but we’re also going back to the beginning. Looking back through things in case we missed something. We’ve never had it happen that something didn’t pop up. And Hannah Grace wants to know what comes next if it happens this time.”
“Can I do anything to help?”
“Just…be there for her. She fucking needs you, man. And if you happen to notice anything weird, let me know?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Thanks.”
“Absolutely. See you at lunch?” he asks.
I nod. “I was thinking I might run out and grab a pizza. You want?”
“Sounds good. Hannah Grace knows what to grab.”
Reaching out, I shake his hand. This man is not my enemy. He wants to protect Hannah Grace as much as I do. Recognizing that is a big step for us. Hopefully it means that he’ll accept Hannah Grace and me when she does tell him about us.