25. Hannah Jane
25
HANNAH JANE
I woke up in my bed. Alone. I must not have even stirred when Isaac slipped out.
When we came home from poker night, he got me naked in the foyer, and then fucked me against the wall. Two orgasms later, we were snuggling on the couch in front of the Christmas tree, basking in the warm glow of the lights.
We talked into the wee hours of the morning about everything and nothing at all.
I told him how I usually drove to my hometown for Christmas with my parents. He talked about Christmas at resorts abroad.
Both sounded equally unpleasant.
The more time I spent with Isaac, the more I realized we had in common. We both preferred watching a tried-and-true TV show rather than taking a chance on something new. We were both homebodies, though our jobs demanded we be social. Me more so than Isaac. But knowing he didn’t hate just lounging around was comforting.
We debated which brand of bourbon made a better old fashioned and then talked about the merits of garnishes. I preferred mine with an orange slice while he liked his with just the peel.
Being with Isaac was becoming more comfortable—something I’d never even experienced with any of the “safe” guys I dated in the past.
Online dating was like ordering a burger at a fast-food restaurant and expecting it to look as good as the picture on the menu.
Unfortunately, in the case of online dating, you don’t just get a squashed burger with unevenly distributed condiments. Instead, you get matched with Todd, the creepy high school teacher who was fired for sending emails to his male colleagues, ranking the hotness of underage female students.
The hotness scale he created varied from she’ll die alone, all the way to ten years in prison doesn’t sound bad if I get caught.
I hightailed it out of that date before the waiter could lead us all the way to the table. In my defense, he used a stock photo for his dating profile and had started going by his middle name.
My thoughts went back to Isaac—my non-felonious, totally fuckable boyfriend.
I must have fallen asleep with him on the couch. The next thing I remembered was being carried upstairs, cradled against his stupidly chiseled body. He tucked me into bed before sliding in beside me and spooning me back to sleep.
My phone vibrated, and I lazily pulled it off the nightstand. I needed to leave for the inn to prepare for the annual Christmas Eve bash, but I wasn’t getting out of bed until absolutely necessary.
Isaac
Morning, beautiful. Thinking about you.
Oh, fuck me six ways from Sunday—this man had my heart and he fucking knew it.
Hannah Jane
How did the meetings go?
Isaac
Unfortunately, it’s frowned upon for civilians to use supersonic fighter jets for business trips. Even me. Pity, too. It would cut down my commutes significantly.
Hannah Jane
Hardy-har-har. I take it you’re not in Canada yet, then.
Isaac
We’re still in the air. Figured I’d give you something nice to wake up to.
The wheels in my head started turning. I was still in the lace lingerie I wore under my poker night outfit. With a rush of excitement, I propped my phone up on my nightstand and hit record.
I prowled across the bed on my hands and knees, swaying my hips with extra sass. I gave the camera a close-up of my breasts as I opened my drawer of unspeakables and pulled out my preferred vibrating dildo.
Blowing a kiss at the camera, I laid on my side, tipped my legs open, and grazed my clit with the silicone head.
Was there anything better than an orgasm in the morning?
It wasn’t long before I was convulsing, thrusting the dildo deep into my pussy. I made a damn show of it, too. It made me feel sexy. Recording it gave me the same thrill Isaac had when he made me come in the middle of a burlesque club.
I knew the dancers saw his hands between my thighs and down the top of my dress through the dim light. There was no way in hell they didn’t. It was dirty and taboo, but there was nothing like the rush. The bite of fear.
I rode wave after wave of my orgasm, indulging in the memory of our illicit exhibitionism.
Giving the camera a sly smile, I sank my teeth into my lower lip before soothing, “Have a safe trip, Mr. Lawson.”
After hopping in the shower and getting ready for the day, I was still on pins and needles from the orgasm. I sent the video to him and then immediately deleted all traces of it from my phone and the cloud. The cloud was never to be trusted.
Isaac’s response was to the point.
Isaac
You bring me to my knees.
Isaac
That video almost made me wreck a very expensive pair of pants. This means war, Miss Hayes.
Hannah Jane
I’ll gird my loins.
Isaac
Or don’t. I prefer you bare under those skirts.
Bliss. Pure and utter bliss.
He had me floating on cloud nine all damn day. Halfway through party preparations, I slipped out of the inn to grab caffeine reinforcements at Queen’s. I was dragging more than usual.
Jogging down the sidewalk, I pulled my coat tighter to ward off the biting chill. My breath fogged in the frigid air. It was almost Christmas. I shoved aside the exhaustion to enjoy the magic of downtown Beaufort all decked out for the holidays.
The Taylor Creek Inn looked like it belonged in a Thomas Kinkade painting. Fresh fir branches dipped between each post of the massive waterfront wrap-around porch that guests loved to relax on. Giant wreaths and crisp red bows dotted the windows and doors.
I grabbed my coffee and nearly sucked it down in the two-minute walk back to the inn. Caffeine was necessary for survival at this point. Just one more damn day, and then I’d have a week off before the big New Year’s Eve party. I was feeling run down, but that was par for the course. Wedding season kicked my ass, and the inn was booked solid for the upcoming season .
I needed a vacation.
If newlyweds got to take a week off work to relax and recuperate after a wedding, I deserved a few days of spa treatments and putting my feet up. Maybe I’d see if Kristin wanted to get away for a long weekend.
Speak of the devil .
“Hey, you,” I said as I strutted through the lobby of the inn, admiring the monster of a Christmas tree that sat in the middle. It was covered in red and gold ornaments and twinkling lights. Of course, I oversaw the holiday decor.
I caught up to Kristin and headed down the admin wing, swiping my key card to get through the secure door. Secure to anyone except a billionaire with a champagne habit.
“You on a break?” I asked.
She nodded, tucking a strand of glossy brown hair that had fallen out of her bun behind her ear. “I hate Christmas.”
“I hear ya. Holidays suck when you can’t lounge around baking cookies all day,” I said, unlocking my office door and ushering her in.
She plopped down in a chair and closed her eyes. “I’m so fucking tired.”
I shimmied my coat off and hung it on the coat rack. I turned to take stock of the to-do list on my desk, but was surprised by a white box sitting on the seat of my desk chair. There was a shimmery gold bow that was tied with perfection.
“What’s that?” Kristin asked as she unwrapped a granola bar.
“I don’t know.” There was no tag or card, but it was in my chair. I set the gift on top of my desk and pulled the tail of the gold ribbon. I wiggled the lid off the box and peeled back the tissue paper.
Maybe I should have opened it out of Kristin’s sight. Knowing Isaac, it could have been embarrassing. Instead, it made me laugh. I pulled out the pair of fuzzy slippers and smiled .
Kristin gave me a curious look, but giggled when I slipped out of my high heels and slid my perpetually sore feet into those fur-lined clouds.
Isaac sent me office slippers.
Kristin took a picture of me with my slippered feet propped up on my desk, and I sent it to Isaac.
Hannah Jane
I see the gift fairy broke into my office again.
Isaac
How do they feel?
Hannah Jane
Heaven.
Isaac
Good. That’s how you make me feel.
Sometimes a grand gesture was a pair of slippers .
“So, this is like… serious?” Kristin asked.
I shrugged, but I wanted it to be. I was crazy about him.
All my reservations were gone. Sure, I worried about all the little steps on the way to the altar—meeting the families, him moving to Beaufort, relinquishing closet space, and shower shelf space. But Isaac made me feel more than all the bland, beige oatmeal boys I had ever been with.
The rush was worth the risk.
“Yeah. I mean, I was upfront with him about what I want. He knows I want the whole nine yards. And he said he’s in for it.”
“I cannot believe y’all thought you’d get away with sneaking around.”
“Hey, I can’t help it that you work here or that he’s Luca’s best friend. We knew we couldn’t keep it a secret forever. Besides, I planned on telling y’all, but Maddie inviting him to poker night kind of beat me to the punch.”
She tossed her granola bar wrapper in the trash and glanced at the time. “Aren’t you kind of surprised that Bridget hasn’t ever tried to get Kyle to come?”
I sighed. I really needed to check on Bridget. “I suppose. But she knows that Kyle doesn’t like Chase, and it’s probably easier just to keep those two in their separate corners.”
“Boys never grow up,” Kristin muttered.
“What about you, boo? Do you have your eye on anyone?” In all the years I had known Kristin, she had never dated anyone. Maybe if she did a little something for herself, like getting dressed up to go out for dinner, she’d regain some of the independence that had been unfairly stripped from her. “You should date.”
Kristin laughed. “And when do you suppose I have time to go on these dates?”
She had a point.
“One of us can watch the kids for a few hours while you take some time to yourself and have dinner with a handsome man.”
She shot me a doubtful look.
“Think about it,” I said as I clicked through unread emails, and flagged anything that couldn’t wait until after the holidays for a response.
There wasn’t enough caffeine at Queen’s to keep my feet from dragging the next day. I was seriously concerned I had put a dent in Isaac’s net worth with all the coffee I had been chugging.
Luckily, the Christmas Eve Bash went off without a hitch. Santa listened to wishes, carolers sang, and children made structurally unsound gingerbread houses. Those little creations paled in comparison to the showstopping gingerbread replica of the Taylor Creek Inn that Maddie delivered to the inn.
Steve and Erica invited the poker club to their house for Christmas movies and eggnog, but I had a date with my bed. I was a wrecked race car sputtering its way over the finish line.
Reluctantly, I scrubbed off my wilted makeup and threw on an oversized t-shirt. I didn’t own many of those, preferring to sleep in nightgowns. But my brother had given it to me years ago, and I couldn’t bear to throw it away.
I grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the gold bar cart I kept in the living room and padded into the kitchen. After mixing a tablespoon of honey, juicing a lemon, and garnishing the glass with a cinnamon stick, I carried my hot toddy upstairs with the intent of reading a chapter of a book and sleeping away the bowling ball rolling around in my head.
Tomorrow morning, I would have to wake up, drive five hours west, and face the firing squad—my mother. And she was a damn good shot.
I would need more than whiskey to survive that.
Chase had slipped by earlier to pick up the presents I had bought for Kristin and her siblings. She rarely let us help out, but she did let us spoil the shit out of them for Christmas and their birthdays. It was the least we could do.
I pulled my hair into a loose ponytail and curled under the covers. I eyed the Whitney West novel on top of my nightstand, but I didn’t have the energy to open it up. The whiskey was soothing, and the honey made my eyes heavy.
The bowling ball in my head struck pin after pin. It slammed into the other side of my skull when I buried my head in a pillow to block out the racket.
I grimaced. Everything felt foggy. I was cold and sweaty all at the same time.
Did I need to turn the heat up, or did I need to strip down?
Large splotches bloomed on the t-shirt where I had sweated right through the cotton. Gross .
I didn’t have time to think about the fact that I needed to change my swampy bedding. The banging wasn’t just in my head.
I groaned and tapped the screen of my phone.
Twelve missed calls from Isaac. Aw, hell—he said something about being back for Christmas Eve and I completely forgot. I’d call him back after I finished murdering whoever was assaulting my front door.
I dragged my feet down the stairs and slumped to the door, croaking out a pathetic, “Just a sec.”
I rested my hand on the doorknob. The cool metal felt like heaven. Maybe I’d just go outside and sit out on the porch until my body decided whether it wanted to be hot or cold. Gingerly, I twisted the deadbolt and unlocked the door.
Isaac stood on my doorstep. A suitcase was behind him, a festive box was in his arm, and his jaw was on the doormat. He quickly steeled his expression and shuffled inside.
“Hi,” I croaked.
“What the fuck?” he clipped. “I thought you were dead. You weren’t answering your phone. You weren’t answering your door. I checked at the inn, I called Maddie?—”
I slumped against the foyer wall. A yawn escaped my mouth without permission. “Gimme just a second to put somethin’ nice on.”
Geez, I just need the floor to stop spinning for a second. Hell, now the walls were flip-flopping, and everything was upside down.
My body crashed against something solid and warm. Isaac had me in his arms and was carrying me upstairs. I tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he had me pinned.
“I don’t wanna get your suit all sweaty and gross.”
His blue eyes blazed into me. “I don’t fucking care about my suit, Princess.”