Chapter 12
HANNAH
The second we make it through the door to my apartment, I unleash Toast Malone before launching myself at Happy.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I crane up and crash my lips to his, pushing my tongue inside his mouth with a whimper.
Effortlessly, he lifts me, and I link my legs around his hips, grinding into him, feeling his dick grow in his pants.
I’m so damn needy after sucking his cock, still a sticky mess since the car, my panties as good as ruined.
“Someone’s needy,” Happy murmurs against my lips.
“I had the worst day,” I pout, biting his bottom lip between my teeth. “And I need you to help take my mind off assholes like Brookes Devereaux.”
Happy pulls back, looking at me with a quirked brow. “Why do I keep hearing that guy’s name today?”
“Because he’s a d-bag, that’s why,” I say hurriedly before claiming his mouth again.
Happy palms my ass through my jeans, grinding me harder against him and giving me the friction I so desperately need as he walks us through to my bedroom.
“What do you want first, Baby Draper?” he gruffs against my lips. “My tongue or my dick?”
“Dick.” I choke on my own panting breath. “So. Fucking. Bad.”
Happy chuckles a low, rumbling laugh, and I clamber down, finding my feet and quickly removing my blouse and jeans, left standing in my underwear. I look up at him, still dressed in his suit pants and shirt, and I eye him obviously like hurry-the-fuck-up.
With another low chuckle, Happy kicks off his shoes and makes quick work of removing his clothes until he’s left in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs that stretch against his gorgeous erection.
And while I would love nothing more than to drop to my knees and take his perfect cock in my mouth again, the ache between my legs is almost unbearable.
With a shove, I push Happy onto my bed. He goes easily with yet another chuckle, scrambling up the mattress and relaxing back against the pillows, hands clasped behind his head.
I allow my eyes to roam over his body, taking in every part of his perfection, from his muscular chest, perfectly pebbled nipples, the flex of his stacked abs, and the outline of his cock in those Calvin Kleins.
I walk around the bed to my nightstand and open the drawer, plucking a condom from the stash and tossing it at him. “Be a good boy and put that on.”
Happy’s eyes light up at my praise, and he shimmies out of his underwear, his delicious dick springing to life, the tip glistening with precum that makes my mouth water.
I watch as he sheaths himself, stroking his length a few times in the process, like a fucking tease, and I remove my bra and panties, climbing onto the bed.
“All aboard the Slater Express,” Happy jokes, waving me to him with a cocky grin.
“Lame.” I roll my eyes but climb on anyway, planting my knees on either side of his hips before lowering myself and rubbing my pussy against his thick shaft.
Happy’s hands move from my hips, trailing up my sides, my ribs, before cupping my breasts and tracing my peaked nipples with his calloused thumbs.
I continue grinding on him, working myself up, closer and closer until it’s too much.
Reaching down, I wrap my hand around the base of his dick and position him just right, the head of his cock notched at my entrance before I sink down onto him torturously slow, feeling every inch of his perfect dick stretch and fill me until I’m fully seated.
“Fuck, look at that pretty pussy taking my dick,” Happy grits out, his gaze focused on where we’re joined, his thumb pressing against my clit.
“Shit,” I choke out through a whimpered moan, my head falling back. I’m so full—almost too full—but it feels so fucking good.
I brace myself, placing my hands against his hot, firm chest, rocking my hips, and I’m already so close, the filthy sound of my wetness almost embarrassing as Happy thrusts his hips up to meet me, hitting me even deeper.
“Oh, yes, right there,” I cry out when I feel his cock graze my G-spot, rolling my hips a little faster, grinding hard.
“That’s it. Ride me,” Happy whispers through gritted teeth. “Use my fucking cock, Baby Draper.”
“Ohmygod,” I whimper, feeling the wave of my release so close.
Happy sits up, wrapping his hand around the back of my head, fisting my hair and pulling it just hard enough, his lips crashing against mine in a depraved, bruising kiss.
He holds me to him so tight as he continues pumping up into me hard and deep.
I can feel my orgasm begin to crest, bliss unfurling in my belly and lighting me up from the inside out, but just before I can reach the peak, the bridge starts playing from out in the hall, causing us both to stop.
My brows knit together as I search through my lust-filled daze for what, I don’t even know. Panting, I manage, “Is that… KPop Demon Hunters?”
“Oh, shit!” Happy hisses, scrambling out from underneath me.
Confused, and more than a little offended that he’s choosing a phone call over letting me finish, I lift off him despite my objecting pussy, watching him jump up off the bed and running naked out of my room, gaping at the doorway he just disappeared through as I hear a rushed, “Hello?”
With the moment well and truly ruined, because fuck him, that’s why, I grab my oversized sleep shirt from under my pillow and shrug it on, hopping up and padding through to my bathroom to wash my face while trying hard to listen to Happy’s low tone, his words purposely hushed and murmured.
“It’s in the cabinet above the coffee machine,” he says. “The orange one…. Yeah…. Try that.”
My brows knit together as I pluck my jade roller from the cup of various skincare tools sitting next to the sink, slowly rolling it over my dewy skin.
“Okay. I’ll come now,” Happy whispers. “Love you, too. Bye.”
The jade roller slips from my fingers, falling into the sink with a clatter.
What. The. Actual. Fuck?
Did he just—Oh. My. God.
Not again. Please, no.
My stomach lurches, falling into the pit of my ass; I feel physically sick.
Hands trembling, I pick up the jade roller and place it back into its cup, turning and walking through to my bedroom to find Happy buttoning his shirt hastily.
His gaze lands on me, slowly taking me in from head to toe while avoiding my eyes.
He glances down at his phone resting on the foot of my bed.
“That was, uh…” He licks his lips, hesitating before finally looking at me. “I have to go.”
I narrow my eyes, studying him. He’s actually serious. I try to ignore the pesky pain that settles in my chest, turning away from him with a muttered, “Whatever.”
“I’ll um… I’ll see you later,” he says quietly before leaving.
My heart flies up into the back of my throat, and I spin around. “Happy?”
He returns, filling the doorway, his face stark and void of its usual cocky arrogance.
My hands ball into fists at my sides, my heart racing as the words burn the tip of my tongue. “I-I told you… I-I can’t be the other woman again.”
Happy’s dark eyes flare, his brows pulling together as he studies me for a long moment.
I throw a glance at the phone in his hand, arching a brow.
“It’s not—” He snaps his mouth shut, his broad shoulders sagging with resignation as he looks down at the device again.
“Happy?” I press.
Without looking at me again, he shakes his head. “I’ve gotta go.”
And he does go. Without so much as a second glance or a semblance of reassurance, he’s gone, the sound of the front door clicking closed, echoing through the silence of my apartment.
I’m a breathless, sweaty mess as I lay punch after punch into the pad Silas holds between us, glaring at it like it’s my mortal enemy—or, like it’s Happy Slater’s face.
“Use your shoulders!” Silas shouts.
I grunt, punching hard.
“Follow through with every punch!”
Another grunt, another punch.
“Don’t just hit the pad; hit through the pad!”
I lay into the pad with a combo.
“Use the power in your core!”
Glowering up at Silas, I grunt again, only this time instead of my fists, I land a knee to the pad with such force it sends his six-foot, two-hundred-pound frame back a few unsteady steps before he manages to collect himself.
“Good job, Han,” Silas says, eyeing me dubiously as he lowers the pad, like he’s not so sure I won’t start laying into him again. “Time’s up. Go hit the showers.”
Gasping for breath, I use my teeth to release the strap on my gloves. I’m already late for work, but I had way too much aggression to get out this morning; if I’d showed up to work in the mood I was in when I woke up this morning, Brookes Devereaux wouldn’t stand a goddamn chance.
“Way to kick ass, Tyson.”
I startle from where I’m gulping my water, spinning around to see Happy standing right there, dressed in a Thunder hoodie, athletic shorts, and a backward ball cap looking unfairly attractive despite the two black eyes he’s sporting from his collision with the cross bar in last night’s game.
All I can think when I look at him is how he just up and left last night, mid-fuck, without even a semblance of an explanation.
God, he told whomever he was on the damn phone with that he loved them.
I was so angry after he left, I couldn’t even finish myself off.
I went to bed angry and sexually frustrated, and I barely slept a wink.
God help whoever gets on my wrong side today.
If what Chris Garret did to me taught me anything, it was that most men are lying sacks of shit, and that it’s best not to trust a single one of them.
I grab my gym bag from the floor and sling it over my shoulder, glaring at Happy as I push past him. But before I can get away, he grabs me, his calloused fingers circling my arm gently but with enough force that I couldn’t shake him off even if I tried.
With a sigh, I turn, offering him a bored look.
He steps up to me, eyes flitting about before boring down into mine, his voice a low rasp as he says, “Look, I promise it’s not what you’re thinking…”
I search his dark eyes, looking for the lie. It doesn’t appear to be there.
But I believed Chris once upon a time, too.
I refuse to let Happy see that last night affected me, so, lifting my chin, my face veiled with indifference, I shrug a shoulder. “I don’t really care. It’s just sex. Nothing my dildo can’t manage.”
Happy stares at me for a long pause, his face unreadable.
“I’m late for work,” I mutter, shrugging out of his grip.
He lets me go, and I spin around and hurry out of the gym toward the locker rooms, unable to chance a glance back in case he sees the truth, which is one not even I understand right now.