8. Isaac
8
ISAAC
I grabbed her waist and threw her down onto the mattress, ripping her thong down her legs in the process. I loved being with women of all shapes and sizes, but damn—I could make Hannah’s body purr like a Ferrari. Blindly, I reached over and yanked open her drawer of unmentionable toys.
“That’s cheating?—”
I shut her up with my thumb working her clit in circles.
Sure, I knew plenty of guys who felt threatened when a lady had a drawer full of silicone dicks, though I could never figure out why. Sex was a team sport. Use every weapon in your arsenal.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” I straddled her, nestling my cock between the lips of her pussy. I didn’t even try to hide the tent in my sweatpants.
“I know, I know. You want me—you can admit it. I won’t judge,” I murmured as ahe whined and bucked her hips
Hannah gritted her teeth as I ground into her. The textured fabric of my sweatpants teased her clit.
She barely got out the first syllable of “fuck you” before she had to bite it back. I brushed her short hair away from her face so she could get a clear look at the person giving her the best damn orgasm of her life.
Getting little miss perfect all dirty was becoming a favorite pastime of mine.
“Eyes up here,” I clipped as I grabbed the pink vibrator and flipped it on. The soft buzz was drowned out by the downpour of rain on the roof. The noise from the TV faded away, and it was just us. “Show me how you touch yourself,” I said in the menacing tone I saved for the boardroom. The flare of her nostrils and her dilated pupils gave away that it was a huge turn-on. “Touch your tits while I make your cunt feel good.”
Hannah was slow to react, so I snapped my hips, drilling my sweatpants-covered cock against the apex of her thighs. She grabbed onto those sweet swells and squeezed hard, pinching her nipples and twisting them back and forth like a madwoman.
“That’s my dirty girl.”
I pushed down the mattress and draped her legs over my shoulders. She crossed her ankles and bent her knees, pulling me closer to her center. One slow lap of my tongue against her folds, and she was arching her back. I slid the humming vibrator through her seeping pussy and sucked on her clit.
“Oh—Oh, God. Isaac—” Hannah fisted the sheets and writhed back and forth as the orgasm built to a crescendo.
So I backed off.
“What?” she shrieked, sitting up.
I chuckled and slid the tip of the vibrator into her cunt. She dropped back onto the bed like a cinder block. “I never said you could stop touching your tits, Princess. You stop, I stop.”
She muttered a colorful string of profanities aimed at me but did as she was told. I rewarded her with my finger stroking her G-spot, tangling with the vibrator, and stretching her tight pussy. I bent down and swirled my tongue, tapping that sensitive spot until she was screaming .
There we go. She was too quiet last time.
The walls of her pussy fluttered around my finger, and I doubled down, stimulating every nerve possible. Female pleasure was both an art and a science. If they gave out PhDs for being great in bed, I’d be number one with a bullet.
It wasn’t an assumption. It was a fact.
“ Fuck, ” Hannah Jane moaned. She wasn’t cussing at me this time. It was whispered in reverence to my sexual prowess.
Her thighs clamped down on my head as she rode riptides of pleasure. Best fucking earmuffs in the world.
Finally, her knees tipped open, and she slumped against the pillows. I turned the vibrator off and set it aside. Her lips were parted, and her cheeks were flushed. Hannah’s chest rose and fell as she caught her breath.
Hell. Yes. Ma’am.
“Am I dead?” she muttered.
“Sorry to say you’re still stuck with me in your house.” I chuckled. “So yeah, you’re probably in hell.”
She snorted, rolling over and giggling into her pillow. I worked the tight muscles along her thighs before parting her legs and drawing my fingertips through her wetness.
“God, Isaac,” she groaned. “I can’t go again.”
“Pity,” I said as I looked her dead in the eye and popped my fingers into my mouth, sucking off her juices. “Guess I won our little bet.”
She groaned and wrinkled her nose. There was a smattering of freckles sprinkled across her cheeks, still holding on from the summer sun. It was cute.
“How much do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, getting up to grab something to help clean her up. “You’re letting me crash at your place. That’s payment enough.”
She propped herself up on her elbows and watched as I grabbed a warm washcloth and brought it back, settling between her legs and gently wiping away the mess.
“So that’s it?”
“What’s it?” I asked.
“You just toss around orgasms like a flower girl chucking rose petals and call it a day? Now we’re back to what? Watching TV and acting like that didn’t just happen?” There was a hint of panic in her voice.
I nodded. “Pretty much. You hungry?”
Hannah pinched the bridge of her nose and held up a finger, signaling I needed to give her a minute. Finally, she huffed, “I don’t get it.”
“Get what?” I tossed the washcloth in the hamper and shifted so I was sitting against the headboard.
“How you do it.”
“You want me to teach you how to get yourself off?”
She swatted my arm, but it felt like a bumblebee bouncing off my body. “No, you ass.” She sighed. “I wish I could be that disconnected.”
I tucked a short lock of chocolate brown hair behind her ear and chuckled. “You’re catching feelings for me? I’m honored.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “Not even close.” She opened her mouth to say something else but hesitated and then clammed up.
“What’s going through your head?” I asked, helping her sit up beside me.
“I wish I was a little more like you,” she said quietly. There were cracks in her mask of perfection.
“Trust me,” I chuckled, throwing my arm around her shoulders. “You don’t want to be me.”
Hannah giggled and rolled the back of her head across my shoulder until she rested my forehead against my neck. “I think we only get along when you’re inside of me. ”
I snickered and looked down, my lips a mere breath away from hers. “There could be worse things in life, I guess.”
The power flickered, but neither of us moved.
“You hungry?” she asked.
“If you’re asking if I want to eat you out again, then the answer’s yes.”
She threw her head back and laughed at the ceiling. “Not like that, you perv! I meant do you want to go downstairs and grab a snack?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve seen your fridge. There’s way too much kale.”
“Come on,” she said, hopping out of bed and grabbing a robe out of the closet. “I’ll show you where I stash the good stuff.”
I followed her downstairs, adjusting myself to ease the hard-on fighting its way out of my sweats.
Hannah Jane wasn’t kidding. A few minutes later, we were sitting on top of her kitchen island by that ridiculous bowl of lemons, eating cereal I hadn’t tasted since I was a kid.
“So, this is your vice, huh?”
She smiled over her bowl of Reese’s Puffs. “Among other things, yes.”
My Fruity Pebbles had gone from rainbow rice puffs to a mottled hue of grayish-green milk and wilted cereal. Delicious. “I can’t imagine that you have a lot of vices. Cereal is pretty tame.”
She shoved a spoonful into her mouth. Milk dribbled down her chin, and I had to bite back the urge to lick it off her skin. “We weren’t allowed to have sugary cereal as kids, so when I went away to college, I tried every brand I could find.”
“We?”
“My brother and me. He’s four years younger.”
I nodded and took another bite. “What else?”
“Coffee. I have to stop at Queen’s every morning and get some before I go to work. Fried appetizers at the bar we all go to. That’s a love-hate relationship there. God, I love mozzarella sticks, but I loathe the Stairmaster at the gym.”
I laughed. Fuck it—I couldn’t help myself. The Hell Yes Ma’am, who was the appointed drill sergeant at Maddie and Luca’s wedding was a one-eighty compared to half-naked Hannah Jane sitting cross-legged on her kitchen island, shoveling in cereal like an unsupervised six-year-old.
“Cereal, coffee, and mozzarella sticks? Those are some lame vices. Now, if you had said you collected Beanie Babies or were addicted to those reality shows about popping zits, that would be a little more interesting.”
She pointed her spoon at me. “I think I’m addicted to your cock. And your hands. And your mouth. Does that count?”
I plucked a Reese’s Puff out of her bowl and threw it at her, bopping her on the nose. She laughed and tossed it in her mouth. I gave her a warning look. “No catching feelings, remember?”
“Don’t worry,” she said, waving it off. “I think I’m immune to you. I just wish I could be that way around the guys I actually go on dates with.”
It was adorable how idealistic Hannah Jane was. She had that Nicholas Sparks view of the world.
Yeah, I watched those movies. You know what’s a sure-fire way to get a girl in bed? Quoting literally anything Noah says in The Notebook. Be real casual about it, too. The panties practically melt off. And if that doesn’t work, go straight for the lift from Dirty Dancing.
It had been working pretty damn well for the last thirty-six years.
Hannah Jane Hayes and I were opposites in every sense of the word. The biggest difference was in our contradictory views regarding long-term monogamy. She believed that one day she would just stumble upon her soulmate and nothing would be the same again. Happily ever after .
She was in for a rude awakening. Most of Nick Sparky’s characters died, and happily ever afters didn’t exist.
Live in the moment and, when the happiness passes, move the hell on.
“Where do you plan on meeting the future Mr. Hell Yes Ma’am?” I asked without an inkling of humor.
She fought off a smile and stared into her cereal bowl. “You’ll make fun of me.”
“Yeah, probably.”
Hannah looked up at me with shock dancing through her eyes.
I laughed, setting my bowl aside and raising my hands defensively. “Look, Princess—what you see with me is what you get. You hate me, and the feeling’s pretty damn mutual, but I promise you—I’ll never lie to you.” I dropped my voice into a stage whisper. “Because honestly, I don’t care about your feelings enough to bullshit around you.”
Hannah rolled her eyes and shoved in another spoonful. “I dunno,” she mumbled. “I just… I have this scene in my head where I’m in line, waiting for my coffee at Queen’s like I am every morning, and I hit it off with the gentleman in line behind me… And maybe he’ll go up to the barista and quote the line from When Harry Met Sally . You know—‘I’ll have what she’s having.’ And he’ll pay for my coffee, and we hit it off and things just…”
“Fall into place?”
“Love at first sight,” she sighed wistfully.
I leaned in close enough to catch a hint of her lingering perfume. “Hannah,” I said in a low rasp. Her eyebrows perked up with curiosity. My eyes flitted to her lips and then back up to meet her gaze. “That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
I felt the sting before I heard the clap of her hand against my cheek.
I deserved it.
Her backhanded slap didn’t knock the grin off my face, though .
“Asshole!” she shouted, rearing back to swat at my chest. With those talons she had for nails, I wasn’t taking any chances. I jumped down off the island and took off like a bat out of hell.
Hannah came ripping through the den like a pissed-off honey badger. I went on the offensive and locked my arms around her waist and threw her on the couch. She bounced on the leather cushion, and I scrambled to crawl on top of her and pin her down.
It wasn’t hard. She was a little thing, and it made her tapping out all the more fun.
“You motherfucker,” she hissed.
I gasped and cupped my palm over her mouth. “Don’t let the other girls hear you use that kind of language, or they’ll kick you out of the debutante ball.”
She faked a look of horror and put on her best Scarlett O’Hara impression. “Oh my stars! However shall I find an eligible beau then? Why—I’ll have to get nine cats and a bird to keep me company if I never wed!” She burst into a fit of giggles, and it sounded like the wind chimes she had hanging outside.
“Smart-ass.” I smirked, leaning down and planting a kiss on her lips. Hannah’s arms immediately snaked around my neck, pulling me closer. She let out a soft moan, and I took advantage, slipping my tongue into her mouth.
Damn, she tasted sweet. I pinned her down with my knees on either side of her hips and held her head in my hands. It had been a long time since I’d kissed a woman just to kiss her—not to take it any further.
But kissing Hannah wasn’t like standing in line at a theme park. It was a rollercoaster all on its own.
I pulled back and nibbled my way down her neck. She hummed in delight. “Mmmm, Isaac?—”
“You like that, Princess?”
“Mhmm.”
I felt her hips rocking into my erection. If I didn’t make a quick exit, I’d end up plowing my dick into her faster than she could tell me to say, “Yes, ma’am.” I sank my teeth into the side of her neck, just hard enough to leave a reminder. “See you in the morning.”
The bed was comfortable.
I hated that.
Had Hannah told me to sleep on the couch or on some musty, lumpy twin bed in a spare bedroom used for storage, that would have at least given me a reason for not being able to sleep.
But the sheets were soft and still had the lingering scent of laundry detergent. The mattress was as nice as the one in her bedroom. Which only reminded me that she was asleep across the hall. The door was shut and probably locked for good measure.
Not that I’d ever try to take advantage of her like that.
It wasn’t even the hurricane raging outside, churning the waters into murky black rapids, that was keeping me awake. I should have been dead to the world. I couldn’t remember the last time I had time off like this. I could actually breathe.
No wonder Luca liked it here.
I shut my eyes again and tried to focus on the low whir of the fan blades spinning overhead. The pattering rain on the roof. The whistle of the wind outside. It was like listening to one of those white noise machines. Those machines were supposed to be calming, but listening to trickling waterfalls just made me need to take a leak.
I rolled over onto my side and wadded the pillow up under my neck. Was Hannah awake?
Fuck.
Why the hell was I thinking about her? Sure, I was sleeping in her house, but the thought of Hannah in her bed made my dick twitch .
I didn’t lie to her when I said that I never fucked the same girl twice. I’d been having sex for over half my life. There were a lot of metaphorical notches in my bedpost.
But having her beneath me, stretched out on her couch as I kissed down the side of her neck? I wanted to strip her down like some kind of caveman and throw her up against a wall before fucking her senseless.
Hannah Jane Hayes was an addiction, and I needed another hit.
Rules be damned.