Chapter 3
3
"It might be a good idea if we started moving."
This after yet another couple brushed against them where they remained frozen in each other’s embrace. Not saying she wanted to move, but they’d already given everyone a show of sorts.
"Jo."
Her name said in that low rasp sent goosebumps racing up her arms and pulled at her nipples. She’d already been throbbing in all kinds of interesting places when the hard press of his cock had made itself known. Feeling it—knowing it was right there and ready for her—had driven home the emptiness she’d accepted as part of her life.
An emptiness she wanted to fill. If only for one night.
Like she’d told Mags weeks ago, she dated. But just as her friend knew, that was as far as it got. None of those dates had turned into a relationship. And certainly not sex.
Why?
Intimacy, she’d found out, was obviously now an end-of-the-second date kind of conversation. One that when saying, "Thanks, but no thanks," to date number three if it involved getting naked, tended to quash any interest men had on going out again.
Had she been tempted to say yes? Sure. But something had always held her back.
That something being Collin.
She’d been mother, father, coach, mentor, and sole support of her son after her ex-husband had walked out on them when Collin had been only two. Ash Webster had never been heard from again. After that, bringing men into his life, who she had no idea if they would be a permanent fixture or not, hadn’t been her style. Hence, her resistance to taking things to the next level.
But Hank?
His chest expanded and she slowly raised her head. What she saw when her eyes locked with his nearly had her coming undone. You’d think gray eyes would be cold. They weren’t. They were molten, with a heat that burned her in their intensity. But it was a burn she would willingly be scorched by.
Hank wanted her. She wanted him. And this wasn’t a date. Meaning, neither of them had expectations of anything more.
And she could do this. Take what he wanted to give her and not worry about having to see him again. It was perfect.
"Do you want to leave?" she asked, searching his gaze, then watched, her body nearly shivering with the sense of excitement racing down her spine, when his jaw clenched and he slowly nodded.
"Do you ?"
She didn’t answer his gruff question but, instead, grabbed his hand and led him through the crowd toward the bar. Just in case this was just the lingering effects of the tequila giving her the courage to do this, follow-through needed to happen fast before it wore off.
"Nice dance?" Colleen asked, a grin playing over her lips, when they got to Jo’s abandoned stool.
"Yes, it was," Jo told her as she pulled her jacket from where it hung off the back and slipped it on, then grabbed her hobo bag that had been underneath. "Very nice."
"It looked like it, didn’t it, Faith," Colleen said.
Faith gave a vigorous nod while Magdalena eyed both of them with her what is Jo about to do look.
"We’re leaving." She threw her purse strap over her shoulder while Hank grabbed and put on his jacket.
"Um, Jo?" Magdalena’s eyes widened as she got off her stool. "Are you sure?—"
"I’m taking my own advice."
"What advice?" Magdalena’s frown wasn’t unexpected. Her best friend usually gave her that look when she thought Jo was doing something crazy.
Jo having a one-night stand?
Yep, crazy.
"The same advice I gave you several weeks back."
"You like to give advice. A lot ," Mags said, her brows raised. "So that could be anything."
"Let’s just say, my rickety garage door needs some attention." She’d encouraged Mags to do the same thing when Renner had first shown his interest.
"Huh?" Then realization obviously hit her friend, with her, "Ohhh," as her eyes flicked to where Hank stood close behind her, then back while leaning into her and murmuring, "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
A shuddering breath left her when Hank’s presence loomed closer, pressing into her back, as his hands went to her waist and hot breath bent to her ear, whispering, "You ready?"
She held Mags’ concerned stare. "I am."
Her best friend nodded her understanding, though her eyes still remained uncertain. Then Jo turned into Hank’s hold and allowed him to guide her out, but hollered over her shoulder, "I’ll call you later," at her friends. Her last look of them before they disappeared behind the crowd showed three women giving a good impression of a set of bodyguards who’d just lost their principal.
"You have good friends."
"I know."
"Should I expect torches and pitchforks at my house in the morning?"
Jo had to laugh at that image as they left the bar and walked out into the chilly night air. She could just see her three friends doing their best impression of storming the castle. Of course, Mags would be leading the way.
"No, I don’t think so."
His house…
"Um, so, we’re going to your house?" They were headed across the parking lot, and he hadn’t asked where her car was parked. So, they must be on their way to his.
Maybe she should have thought this through a little more. Because, seriously, how was this going to happen? No way could she go to his house and stay the night.
Suggesting her house wasn’t an option. Collin was out with friends but would be home soon. Meaning mom had to be home too. Alone. That didn’t consider how in the morning she had to drive him to school, then herself to the office…
His steps slowed—not that he was rushing.
"We don’t have to." He pulled her to a stop and turned her into his hold, before his eyes searched hers in the dim illumination offered by the parking lot lights. "We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do."
"I’ve never done anything like this before." So much for even considering she was ready for this, or any , one-night stand. His eyes softened where he stared down at her. "I’m a little nervous."
"If it makes you feel any better, I don’t make a habit of, well, of…" He scrubbed a hand over the back of his head.
"Picking up women in bars?"
"Let’s just say this, I can count on one finger the number of times I’ve done it." He glanced over her head then back at her. "My truck is right over there. What if we just sit and talk?"
"You’d be okay with that?"
"More than okay."
For whatever reason, she believed him as he took her by the hand and led her to a white, oversized, dual cab truck with darkly tinted windows. The truck beeped as his front and back lights flashed to show he’d unlocked it, then it rumbled to life from what must have been a remote starter. It was probably pretty roomy. And with those dark windows, it offered a lot of privacy.
Dare I suggest…
"What if I want to do more than talk?" she asked in a rush as he reached for the front passenger door. His hand paused and head jerked her way, his cheeks flushed. But that might have just been from the cold.
"I’d be more than okay with that too." He dropped his hand and leaned against the door.
"Then…" She reached for the back door handle with a trembling hand and pulled it open before she lost her nerve. "Maybe the back would be more comfortable."
"Jo, I don’t?—"
"Hank," she said, fully facing the man currently radiating enough tension it filled the air between them. "I know this seems crazy. We’ve just met. But I need…" She shook her head. "I don’t know exactly what I need." Then she huffed at that. "No, that’s a lie. I do know exactly what I need. And I don’t understand why, but for some reason I trust you with that need."
A deep breath filled him as he closed his eyes, before letting it out—long and slow. What else would he do long and slow? After tonight they could…
No.
This would be a one and done. Which didn’t sound right at all, but it was what it was .
Jo’s breath caught as she found herself crowded into the open space afforded by the truck door, with Hank’s strong hands spanning her waist—his features taut and eyes boring into hers. Then she was being lifted inside and onto the seat.
She hurriedly scooted over and dropped her purse in the floorboard as Hank followed her inside and slammed the door shut. The overhead light slowly dimmed as they stared at each other.
"Are you warm enough?" Hank asked. "I can turn the heat up."
"I’m good." And she was, even though her hands were cold as ice. "Um, so…" She had no idea what to say as she shrugged out of her jacket and placed it over the front seat. "So, how do we do this?"
"So," Hank said, seeming to take his time removing his dark brown, leather jacket, before moving closer and slipping an arm around her shoulders. He’d gone slow enough, it should have given her plenty of time to change her mind, which she wasn’t going to do.
Absolutely not.
Probably.
"We do this slowly." He drew her into his body, encircling her in his strong arms. Though she had no idea what to do with her hands. One finally landed on his hard thigh, while the other sort of took hold of the back of his t-shirt. "We do this by not going any further than you want to go." His head lowered to hers, his barely-there kiss pressing against the side of her mouth, before trailing to her ear. "We do this until I give you what you need."
"Ohhh…okay." She licked her lips, while his warmth—the security he inexplicably instilled in her—and the darkness gave her the confidence to say, "It’s been a long time for me. It’s…" A soft kiss brushed against her ear, followed by his warm breath coasting down over her neck before he kissed her there.
God, that feels so good.
"Mmm-hmm…" he breathed out, his lips at her neck sending her pulse ratcheting up several notches. "It’s been a while for me too."
"Oh, um…" She sucked in a breath when his hand went under the front of her sweater, but going no further than the band of her jeans. "Probably not thirteen years."
His body stilled, except for his hand inside her sweater going to her waist and grabbing tight.
"Hank?"
A hard hum vibrated against her neck. Had she just made an epic mistake? Of course, she had. Why had she felt the need to overshare?
"I wish you hadn’t told me that," Hank growled against her skin. His head never budged from where his harsh breath raised goosebumps everywhere and words confirmed her worst fear. She wished she hadn’t either.
"I understand," she whispered, trying to hold in her despairing whimper while attempting to pull away from him. But she couldn’t move. Not with how his one arm pulled her close and his fingers at her waist dug in.
"No, sweetness, I don’t think you do."
Nothing in this man’s deep, rumbling voice struck her as young . All she heard was masculine power, confidence, need, and a desire so strong it left her breathless. All the things she’d craved to have completely directed at her.
A craving to be one man’s entire focus. She’d never had that before. Ever. Not even in her marriage. Ash’s focus had strayed too many times during their three years together for her to be anything more than an afterthought.
Now, here she was with a man she didn’t know from Adam. Something that made her certainty Hank was the polar opposite of Ash so strange. Mainly because that certainty had no basis in any kind of fact.
It was just how she felt deep down. He could be her forever…
Oh, no.
That errant thought had to be shut down.
No forevers.
At least not right now. Not until Collin was off to college. She could hold out for another two years.
But could Hank?
Hank isn’t permanent.
And that thought wasn’t depressing at all.
Especially when his mouth took hers in a soul-eating kiss—licking deep inside her mouth—and his hand at her waist crept up to cover her bra. His mouth parted from hers ever so slightly.
"Dammit," he breathed against her lips, then laid his forehead against hers.
"What?"
"Tequila."
He didn’t like tequila? That didn’t bode well for them.
Stop it, Jo.
There was never going to be a them .
"God, Jo, I want to be inside you so badly, but I’m afraid I’m taking advantage of you."
"Taking advan…" She groaned, as her hand on his thigh moved higher. Now she understood. "Hank, I am deadly sober right now. In fact, I have never been quite so sober in my entire life."
And just so he understood exactly how sober she was, she boldly let her hand do what it had been begging to do by sliding it up his thigh to the front of his jeans. A solid ridge pressed into her palm, then sort of jumped.
"Shit," he hissed, before throwing his head back and swallowing hard. That was a good sign. As big and hard as he felt through the soft fabric of his worn jeans was another good sign—one that had her stomach fluttering and core softening for what that sign promised. His eyes flashed to hers and hand dropped back to her waist, his hungry stare clear in the moonlight filtering into the truck.
Without even realizing it her hand had gone to the top of his fly.
"No," he huffed out, the hand that had been at her waist grabbing her fingers already tugging on the zipper. Could he not tell how desperately she craved to have him in her hand? "Not yet."
"But I need to touch?—"
"I know." He gently moved her hand away from his body, then lifted her fingers to his mouth. "But first," he whispered against them. "Let me take care of you."
Jo hadn’t had anyone take care of her in any kind of way since… Well, what felt like forever. She couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t been the caregiver, the one in control, the one to make sure others’ needs came before her own.
She’d had no other choice. But now…
Could she let go?
"Please, Jo." The arm at her back pulled her close, while the hand he still held was pressed against his cheek. "You said you trusted me."
How could he hold her captive so easily?
It made her wonder again why this man she’d just met—one so much younger—could make her want impossible things after less than an hour.
Was it the soft kiss that left her lips wanting more when he pulled away? Or maybe it was a trick of the darkness. Because how could his steady gaze shine with an emotion that was too soon for him to express? Her eyes pricked as those gray depths held an inexplicable patience, almost like he would wait forever—waiting for her to say…
"Take care of me."
Just saying those four words sent a surge of relief flooding through her body. And Hank was there, holding her tight when the weight of responsibility left her shoulders, and she collapsed against him. Had it always been that heavy? She’d had no idea—not until it had been lifted. She took in a shallow breath, waiting for everything to come crashing down on her. Why hadn’t she done this a long time ago?
Simple.
Hank hadn’t been there to catch her.
"Ah, sweetness," he murmured into her hair, before pulling her onto his lap. "I’ve got you."
Hank gently urged her to lay back in his hold, then began a slow unbuttoning of her sweater. Her heart lurched at how the concentration on that one task drew his brows together. Like it was the most important thing to him in the world.
How could it be, when his own need was digging into her ass?
However Hank managed it, wasn’t something she could dwell on, not when the sides of her sweater fell open. Watching how his lips parted and nostrils flared, made her feel like she had on something other than her so unsexy, plain, white bra. A grin kicked up one side of his mouth when he fingered the front clasp.
"Convenient," he murmured. "Let’s see." With a quiet snap, the cups fell to her sides and his grin disappeared.
"Jo." The reverent way he said her named matched the awe in his eyes as they focused where his fingers brushed over one distended nipple.
"Hank," she whimpered, while her hand between their bodies clutched at his shirt, then held tight.
"It’s okay," he said, his eyes flashing to hers as those same fingers trailed down her abdomen to the button on her jeans, her clit pounding harder and harder when he popped it loose and lowered the zipper.
Rough fingertips skimmed across her panty line, sending her emotions rioting as much as her pulse. Then her body clenched in anticipation when his hand slid inside the barrier of her panties into what she knew from her own fingers to be damp, smooth, bare skin.
"Ohhh…" she shuddered out. Her own fingers had never felt like this.
"Shhh…" Then he shuddered when his big fingers furrowed between her lower lips and spread them apart, forcing the nub centered there out. The first brush of his now wet fingers over that piece of flesh had her melting into his hold.
"That’s right," he whispered, while all she could do was hold her breath to keep from crying out at how good it felt.
"Breathe, sweetness," he murmured, and she tried to, she really did. But then his fingers went lower to her opening, and she held it in again when one finger entered her, nearly bringing her off his lap.
"Jesus," he groaned. "You’re so tight, and…" His finger slowly dragged in and out, and she couldn’t keep from moving with it, while the heel of his hand ground against her clit. "Wet." Another finger joined the other.
Filling her.
Stretching her.
Fucking her.
"So good," she moaned, finally breathing—but harsh and panting—while her free hand went to his upper arm and twisted the fabric there in her fingers. Losing herself in the sensations he created, her hips worked in time with his hand, her body straining when his fingers went deeper.
It was too much as her eyes fluttered shut on his intense, hard features and the furor of response building at her center blossomed. And then she was there .
Tingling heat coursed through her bucking, gasping body, while a riot of sensation took hold and launched her from Hank’s hold to someplace else. Higher and higher she went, her body transforming into one solid pulse of pleasure that hovered inside a blinding light, until she slowly floated back down.
And there was Hank, waiting for her, holding her, his fingers gently stroking her overly sensitive flesh until she was sweaty, limp, and smiling. And so relaxed she couldn’t move.
"Thank you," she breathed out, then managed to open her eyes and make her fingers let go of his shirt sleeve.
"You’re welcome," he said grinning down at her—though it came across as strained. "I feel like I should be thanking you ." The touch of his tender gaze roaming over her face had her mind and heart going into that whole, he could be her forever mode.
Great sex doesn’t equal love or forever.
She knew this.
It didn’t make it any easier to drive that knowledge home.
What did help was the fact she still had a pike prodding her backside that needed attention.
"Let me up," she muttered, squirming in his hold. It took a second of him frowning at her, but he finally allowed her to slide from his lap. She immediately toed off her shoes and socks, before shucking out of her jeans and panties. Her bra and sweater kept getting in the way, so she shrugged out of them and laid them out over her coat.
Had she, in her wildest imagining, believed she’d be completely naked in the back of a strangers truck when she’d woken up that morning?
No.
But now that she was here, and if she was going to do this, she was going to do it right. She wanted the feel of those talented fingers and his hands all over her. Who knew how long it would be before...
She glanced over her shoulder at a statue-still Hank and froze with her hand on the back of the front seat.
"Is something wrong?"
Surely she hadn’t completely read this situation wrong. Or maybe he didn’t like what he saw. And wouldn’t that be mortifying?
"No," he ground out, his jaw clenching and eyes tracing over her body while he reached behind him. Want, need, and a bit of desperation shone out at her in the darkness as he pulled his wallet in front of him, then opened it, producing a condom, before setting it aside. He didn’t say another word as she enjoyed the sight of him pulling his t-shirt over his head. She’d been right. Very nicely muscled, with a smooth, solid, heaving chest.
This was happening.
Thank you all that is holy .
Then his hands were at his waist, undoing his jeans. If his cock looked as good as it had felt…
She licked her lips in anticipation.
"I wish you wouldn’t do that," he growled, lifting his butt up from the seat and working his jeans over his hips. "You’re making this harder for me."
"No pun intended, right?"
Well, that sounded stupid. Good job, Jo.
"No," he grumbled. "This…" His jeans and undershorts cleared his cock, where he slid them down to his knees. "This is no pun."
"No…" She swallowed down the lump in her throat as she twisted herself on the seat until she was right up beside him. Center court, if you will. Was she aware she was staring? She was. But she couldn’t help it. "It’s not." In fact, it was anything but.
Long, thick, and veiny, with a drop of pre-cum glinting in the muted moonlight.
She was so transfixed, she hadn’t even noticed his hands moving. Not until she heard the telltale sound of something ripping open.
The condom packet. She tore her eyes away at the sight of him positioning it over the head.
"Um, do you want me to?—"
"Not on your life," he said low, while rolling the rubber down his length. "I can’t risk not making it inside you." He turned his blazing eyes on her. "And I will be inside you," he said, holding one hand out to her over his body while he slid forward on the seat.
She took hold of his hand, while deep down she knew this was going to be more than she could handle. Not the size of his cock. It was perfect. But the feelings this man stirred inside her.
He tugged on her and she allowed herself to be pulled until she straddled his body, on her knees with her core centered over him.
"Hank."
His desperate, gray eyes snapped up to hers from where they’d been fixed where their bodies were so close, and he let go of her hand.
"Yes."
She stared at him for several seconds, watching him closely as she lowered herself onto him. It was new experience for her. Controlling a man’s pleasure. Ash had always dictated everything to her, making sure she took care of his needs, exactly in the way he had wanted. That, of course, was followed by a wham bam, thank you ma’am kind of sex that more times than not had left her wanting.
It was all she had ever known.
Until now.
Until Hank.
She leaned in, closed her eyes, and took his mouth, then wound her arms around his neck as the rounded head of his cock breached her body.
They both groaned.
Then she lowered herself some more, while their mouths ate at each other, taking him in bit by bit until she was fully seated.
His fingers had been big, but his cock…
It not only stretched her even more than they had, but it reached further, filling the emptiness that had been deep inside her.
And then they were moving, rolling into each other, hands roaming, naked bodies rubbing against each other. But…
It wasn’t just sex.
It was making love.
No matter how much she wanted to deny it.
And she was close.
Again.
All it would take was a little stimulation and she would fly apart. But why hadn’t he…
She pulled away from his mouth, their bodies never stopping, as Hank knocked his head back. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, while his eyes remained shut tight.
Was he waiting on her.
"Look at me," she moaned, unable to stop moving.
"I can’t. I…" He surged into her. "I’ll come. This…this is for you."
Her vision blurred as she grabbed the back of his head leaned back, and pulled it toward her body, offering her breasts to him. And he took them—licking and sucking on one, then the other—while his hand snaked between their bodies. His fingers once more went to her clit, working that little nub that begged for another release.
"Oh, god," she whispered, when the ache grew. She ground hard against Hank’s body to get just the right kind of friction, then grabbed hold of his hair with both hands. The triple assault of his mouth, his fingers, and his cock tossed her once more toward the edge. She rode him hard, holding on for dear life when her body was thrown into another orgasm.
"Yes," he hissed, as he grabbed her hips and drove himself up into her, finally stilling as his cock pulsed against walls.
No words passed between them as they held each other. This was nice, having her head on his chest, while his heartbeat filled her ear—it had finally slowed—and Hank gently stroked his fingers up and down her spine.
"I like this," he whispered into the silence. "Next time?—"
"I have to go," she murmured, pulling free from his resisting embrace, though he finally released her. She lifted herself, holding in a slight moan at how his cock slid from her body. There couldn’t be a next time, and she had to do whatever she had to for him to believe it.
"Why?"
"I’ve got to be…" She was about to say something about being home for Collin, as she grabbed her sweater and bra. And why would she do that? She was not going to mention her son. Telling him about her family was more information than she needed to give him. It didn’t matter she wanted to tell him everything . And that was the more pressing reason to make tracks while she could. "I have to be someplace."
And she needed to make it fast, because she had the baffling notion that if she stayed with this man any longer, she would never be able to leave him. And that scared the hell out of her.
"Okay," he said, his tone slightly confused as she fastened her bra and haphazardly did up the buttons on her sweater. In her peripheral vision he lifted his ass and pulled his jeans up and fastened and zipped them. She hadn’t seen what he done with the condom.
She pulled her own jeans on and stuffed her panties and socks in her jacket pocket, before bending down and putting on her shoes.
"You’re really in a hurry," he kind of chuckled. "Was it something I said?"
"What?" She glanced up at him. "Something you said?" She shook her head and took her jacket and put it on. "Nothing at all. It’s just getting late and I have work in the morning."
"Okay," he said, opening the truck door and hopping out. "I do too."
She nearly bit her tongue to keep from asking him what he did for a living. It wasn’t her business.
She did allow him to help her down. It was pretty high off the ground.
"I’d like your number," he said, while setting her feet on the ground, then leaning against the truck after he let her go. She chanced a look at him, which was a mistake. Why did he have to grin at her like that? "And you should probably know my last name, it’s?—"
"I can’t." His grin faded, while he straightened at her words. "This…" Jo took several backward steps—putting distance between them so she could get the words out she needed to say— watching with a falling heart the way his jaw clenched and denial rose in his eyes. "This can’t happen again."
" This ?" He didn’t move, but his body went just as tense as his jaw. "What do you mean, this ? Did you think this …" He waved a hand between them. "Was some kind of one-night stand for me?"
"I…I don’t know. I just assumed…" She took a deep breath and another step back to give herself the courage to say her next words. "But it was for me."
Hank’s head snapped back, as she forced herself to turn away from his hardened features, then took off at a brisk pace toward her car.
I did the right thing.
Did it matter she wanted to turn right back around, jump inside his truck, and let him take her to his home?
No, not at all.
Liar .