Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Hannah
My stomach is in a knot up under my ribs. Or maybe that’s my diaphragm on lock-down. Must be because I can’t really breathe. My stress level shot to freak-out mode when Armando was asking me about the business.
Tears prick my eyes as I make up bouquets I don’t need.
Working with the flowers is the only thing that makes me happy here, though.
I mean, it makes me happy in general—that’s why I gave up my scholarship to nursing school—my mom’s plan for me—to buy the flower shop.
Flowers make me happy. I like their colors, their delicate textures, their smells.
I love that I get to work with such a beautiful medium and use my eye and creativity in the arrangements.
College didn’t suit me. I may have been a straight-A student, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed it. No, when Mary Alice approached me to take over, I wanted this more than anything in the world.
But now it seems like I made a huge mistake.
Armando walks in from the back door, and I frown at him. There’s a little bit of hate rattling around in me toward him right now.
I know it’s not his fault, but he told me the thing I’ve been hiding from myself for the last six months. I made a huge mistake buying Garden of Eden. I gave up my education and sure-thing career, and now I am going to lose everything.
“Hey.” He leans a hip against the bench and watches me. “I wasn’t trying to piss you off.”
“I’m not pissed,” I lie in a tight voice. What I really mean is I don’t want to be pissed because it isn’t his fault I’m drowning here.
“I wasn’t criticizing your decision or your business, Hannah.”
Sure as hell isn’t how it feels.
“Look at me.”
I ignore his command.
“Hannah.” He plays Mr. Forceful very well. I’ll bet he makes guys pee their pants when he wants to.
I turn to him with lips tight. Pressure bottlenecks in my throat, threatening to explode.
“You’re not totally fucked. And you didn’t fuck up, either.”
I blink at him. Interesting summary. Oddly, his words settle around me with a comforting sort of thud.
He cocks his head. “You wanna make this work, right?”
I open my mouth, taken aback by the redirect on my angst. It’s all still sitting there in my chest, but it stopped simmering. Stopped churning. “ Yes, ” I snap, even though he doesn’t deserve my anger.
“Hey.” He brings one hand to settle on my waist. It does jumpy things to my insides, especially considering how on edge I am. “You’re worried. I get it. But you have choices.”
I find myself drifting closer to him, like the strength in that rock-solid body or his cock-sure attitude will magically transmit to me. “What choices?”
He shrugs. “You can keep worrying and do the same thing you’ve been doing.”
I scowl, my lungs tightening again.
“Or you can start trying new things to grow your business. Because that’s what you want, right? To grow it?”
I nod. Yeah. That’s what I’d imagined when I decided to buy. I didn’t picture myself just maintaining things the way Mary Alice had done them for years, and I definitely didn’t think I’d have even less business than she had.
“I can’t grow it when I have no money to invest. I mean, I couldn’t even get the van fixed to keep deliveries going. That’s why I’ve just been stuck treading water since I bought it.”
“Then you figure something out.”
I blink up at him. “Seriously? That’s your advice?”
“Not every idea costs money. And money doesn’t only come from one source.”
I shake my head. I don’t know why I thought he had some magic answers for me here. “What do you know, anyway?” I mutter, turning away.
He catches my arm and pulls me back. “Either give it up or fight for it, Flowers. Don’t hold your breath and pretend it’s not sinking when it is.”
I’m not the type to get physical with anyone, but I give his chest a hard shove. “Fuck you, Armando.”
I know, not a really profound comeback. But I?—
I lose my train of thought when he captures my wrists and backs me into the wall, his hard body pressed against mine. “Watch it, Flowers.”
I don’t know why I get wet every time he manhandles me. Or threatens me. It’s like my body can’t distinguish his abuse from foreplay. Not that it feels like abuse. His actions definitely read more as foreplay—it’s not just me.
“Get off me,” I whisper, but I clearly don’t mean it.
“Breathe, Flowers.”
I attempt to pull my wrists free, but he tightens his hold. “Breathe, or I’ll make you.”
“How will you do that?” I challenge. I’m way more turned on than afraid. I want all of his attention on me. On my body.
Maybe even on my business, even though he pissed me off.
He moves quickly, covering my mouth and nose with his free hand, blocking my air.
Surprise and fear leap to the surface, and I fight him, my survival instincts all kicking in.
He releases my wrists and shifts his other hand between my legs, cupping my mons firmly.
He lets me take a quick breath, then smothers me again.
Shock, terror and pleasure mingle in a rage of sensations.
Blood rushes to my clit, tingles start up everywhere.
He rubs firmly between my legs the whole time I freak out about not being able to draw a breath.
Just when I’m frantic, he pulls his hand away from my mouth and closes it around my throat instead.
I suck in gasps of breath. It’s only been thirty seconds, and I’m on the cusp of an orgasm.
He doesn’t choke me, he just uses his hand at my throat to hold me pinned against the wall while he works his fingers over my folds.
He’s not even inside me, and I’m ready to go.
I reach down and cover his hand with my own, pushing his fingers more firmly against my clit, my entrance, my anus.
He grins and nods, his eyes glittering with pleasure as my breathing grows more shallow. His other hand slides up my body, tracing a path up my neck and sending shivers through me, before coming to rest on my jaw. He looks into my eyes, and I can see the intensity in his gaze.
“I could fuck you all day, every day,” he whispers, and I can feel his breath tickle my skin. I nod, unable to find the words.
He tightens his grip around my throat and leans in, pressing his lips to mine hungrily. His tongue explores my mouth, tasting and teasing, and my arousal grows.
With a growl, he slides two fingers inside me. I gasp at the sudden pleasure as he strokes, pushing his wrist against my clit as he does. He starts to move faster and harder, stimulating me in ways I didn’t know could happen so closely to sex and being more than satisfied.
We just had sex.
Not being able to get enough of this man, I writhe and squirm against him, desperate for more. He takes up my challenge, alternating between hard thrusts and gentle caresses, driving me closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy.
He responds to my moans, pushing deeper and faster with each stroke.
I can feel his breathing hitch as I mewl and pant against him, my body trembling with pleasure.
His other hand slides around my waist, pulling me closer, and his tongue finds its way into my mouth, tasting and exploring me as his fingers move faster and faster over my sensitive skin.
The sensations are overwhelming. Every nerve is on fire, and I’m close to the edge, my hips bucking against his hand in a desperate attempt to reach climax—again.
He must feel it too, and his tongue moves more fiercely against my own, his fingers working harder and harder until I can’t take it anymore, and I scream out my release, my body shaking and shuddering.
As I come, choking and gasping for my breath, Armando keeps rubbing between my legs. Stars dance before my eyes, and I close them, shuttled away in some other universe.
When I come back to reality, when my breath slows, and I open my eyes, I find Armando leaning his forehead against the wall beside my head, stroking my jaw with his thumb. His fingers still wrap around my neck and stroke between my legs.
A full-body shudder runs through me, another release.
“Don’t give up, Flowers. Stop holding your breath. You can fix this.”
I sag against his body. “How?” I warble. I sound pathetic. I should be pissed over what he just did to me. Even if I liked it, it was high-handed and scary. I should push him away and tell him never to touch me again, especially in my place of business.
Instead, I fall into his arms and let him hold me up.
“You try every idea you have until something takes hold. Ask for help. Keep working it. You can do this. You’re good at what you do. Trust in that.”
As far as motivational speeches go, it’s pretty flimsy, but I do strangely feel better. That’s probably just the orgasm talking.
I push away from him, even though I’m not sure my legs will hold me. “You’re still an asshole,” I mutter.
“Believe it,” he confirms as I walk away on shaky legs but breathing much better than before.
Looking over my shoulder, I catch the way his eyes watch every single move I make. He’s hunting, and I’m an easy prey.
I could run. I should run. But with the way he watches over me, I’d surely trip on my lust and desire for this man and fall flat on my face. But then knowing Armando, he’d simply pick me up, smack my ass for trying to flee and fuck me all over again.