27. Hannah Jane
27
HANNAH JANE
A fter the most horrific Christmas sinus infection that made me feel like I was on the verge of becoming past tense, things seemed to fall into place.
Isaac still traveled constantly, but we saw each other as much as humanly possible. Luckily, my job making wedding dreams come true at the Taylor Creek Inn kept me absurdly busy.
December turned into a miserably cold January. January gave way to February, and Isaac whisked me away for a magical Valentine’s weekend in Ibiza. March brought a resurgence of early summertimers to the coast for spring break that had the inn bustling.
Maybe I was still looking through rose-colored glasses, but Isaac was perfect.
He was attentive and intuitive. He showered me in gifts, and I wasn’t ashamed to say that I loved that.
Even if we were ten time zones away, he still made time to call or text me every day, or send me something that let me know he was thinking of me .
Still, I would have given up all of that to have him here all the time.
Everything with him was serendipity, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was living on borrowed time.
Isaac
Can’t wait to see you tonight, Princess. Heads up: the package on your desk should be opened in private.
The text interrupted my thoughts, and I fired off a quick ‘I love you.’
I was borderline giddy that he was going to be in town for thirty-six hours. I slipped my phone into my handbag as I hurried through the lobby of the inn.
Life was good.
True to his word, there was a box on my desk waiting to be unwrapped. Unlike his—or Spenser’s—usual affinity for big white boxes with gold ribbon, this one was small. It was matte black with a shiny black ribbon. Sleek.
I glanced at the door. No one was in the hallway when I walked through the admin wing, but better safe than sorry. I flipped the lock on my office door before shimmying the lid off the box.
I couldn’t help myself. I cupped my palm over my mouth and laughed. As if he was counting down the seconds until I punctually entered my office at exactly five minutes until nine in the morning, Isaac texted again.
Isaac
Open the box yet?
Hannah Jane
Is this what I think it is?
Isaac
Put them on and find out.
I fingered the silk fabric and thanked my lucky stars I’d locked my door. After turning on the device as instructed, I slid the panties up my thighs. The smooth bullet felt good settling against my pussy. A rush of adrenaline surged through my extremities.
I pawed through the black tissue paper and looked for the remote. There was always a remote, right?
A soft hum filled the room, and I gasped. My phone lit up.
Isaac
Don’t even think about taking them off.
I whimpered and smacked the call button. As soon as it connected, I snapped. “Isaac Lawson, you turn these off right now. I have clients coming in for a tour in ten minutes!”
His chuckle was dark. Promising. Ruthless. It sent a shiver down my spine. “I can get quite a lot of work done in ten minutes. Shall we see how much you can finish ?”
“Isaac,” I hissed, dropping down into my desk chair. “I am at work. What the hell were you thinking?! I’m taking them off.”
“That’s not how this works, Princess.”
Isaac was delusional if he thought he was going to get away with using that tone with me.
Some girls got off on being bossed around, and I wasn’t afraid to admit that I liked it when he took charge in the bedroom. But at nine in the morning in my office? Hell no. I would not bow and kiss his fuckboy pinky ring.
“Sweetheart,” I said with a twisted smile on my face. “I hope you’re on good terms with Jesus, because you’re fixin’ to meet him.”
Isaac chuckled again, but this time it was lighter. “I love it when you get all southern on me. Sometimes I piss you off just so I can hear you say shit like that.”
The vibrating started again, and I involuntarily moaned. My fingers dug into the edge of the desk. “Isaac—” I whimpered.
He groaned on the other end of the line. “It’s been too long since I’ve gotten to hear you make those noises,” he grunted .
Aw, hell. I was doing this, wasn’t I?
“Maybe you should be here now instead of tonight.”
“Wish I could, Princess. Meeting in twenty, then I’ll be in a car to Teterboro to head your way.”
Heat pooled quickly in my belly. The need to finish grew with each passing second. “Isaac—” I whispered, terrified that someone passing outside my office door could hear.
“Give me one orgasm before you have clients,” Isaac said, his voice low and filled with broken glass, sex, and dirty promises.
The vibrator between the lips of my pussy intensified. That bastard was flexing his power from six hundred miles away with a fucking remote, and it felt good.
“What are you wearing today?” he asked.
He wanted to play twenty questions now ? “Cheetah print skirt… black heels… white… oh, have mercy ? — ”
“Keep going, Princess.”
“White blouse.” I gritted my teeth, grinding my hips into the seat. So… Good. Just a little ? —
The knock on my door was the most terrifying sound I had ever heard. Well, apart from hearing Isaac laugh as he turned the tiny vibrator off. “Guess we’ll just have to resume this later.”
Fuck him. Fuck his stupid ring. Fuck his stupidly good-looking suits. Fuck his nice haircut and his perfectly trimmed sandy stubble. Fuck all of it.
“You’re evil, Lawson,” I hissed before cheerfully calling out, “One second, please!”
I could practically see his self-satisfied smirk. “I’m not apologizing for having a sexy imagination, Princess.”
“I hope your day is terrible,” I spat.
“Right back at’cha, Hell Yes Ma’am.”
Oh, that man…
I was horny, I seriously lacked an orgasm, and I had clients on the other side of the door. “We will finish this later, Lawson. ”
“Counting on it.”
I grabbed my key card and phone, then opened the door. I plastered on a ridiculously saccharine smile. “Hi there! You must be Alyssa and Tyler! So nice to meet you!”
I love meeting newly engaged couples before the stress of wedding planning put them on a hair trigger. These two were disgustingly in love. She kept twisting the gorgeous engagement ring on her finger like she hadn’t quite gotten used to wearing it yet. He took every opportunity to whisper something in her ear that made her laugh.
It was the little touches they shared as they flipped through my sample book of linen swatches and looked through the different floor plan options.
I wondered if Isaac and I would be the same way when the time came. I would probably drive that poor wedding planner to drink.
I smiled to myself, stifling laughter and the ridiculous thought of me actually trusting someone other than myself to plan my wedding.
I led Alyssa and Tyler outside to show them our outdoor options. My high heels clicked against the cobblestone courtyard, and I was midway through explaining the cocktail hour set-up when the soft vibrating began again.
It must have been on the lowest setting, because it didn’t make a sound. I silently cursed Isaac and faked my way through the spiel, telling them where the bar would be and all the different ways to decorate the space.
They were sold. I felt it in my bones. Hell yes, ma’am!
We walked through the lobby, and I pointed to all the areas where we could set up lounges and soft seating for their guests.
As the toe of my shoe hit the threshold of my office with my happy couple behind me, Isaac decided that he intended to win the game we were playing.
I felt my orgasm rushing in like a freight train. And then it let off. I sat down in my desk chair, and the bride and groom-to-be settled across from me.
Bad idea. Oh, bad, bad, bad.
The vibrating panties started up again. The leather cushion only amplified the mortifying buzzing. I toed off one shoe and tucked my leg between my ass and the chair. Isaac must have turned the device up as high as it would go.
Oh no. What if I was so wet that they shorted out and caught fire? I panicked at the possibility of having to flash my clients in order to rip off flaming underwear.
I cleared my throat, handing them each a copy of the inn’s event contract. “This is the—the service agreement for you to take home and, uh, read over.” I stumbled through the main points, highlighting where they needed to initial, sign, and date. I talked about the deposit and payment schedule, all while Isaac brought me to the edge of release and back off again.
Over.
And over.
And over.
He was probably sitting in a board meeting, half-amused, knowing he was the master puppeteer.
The couple started asking questions. Usually, I was more than happy to answer anything and everything, but today was not that day.
I grabbed my phone while I rattled off answers I had memorized years ago and fired off a text.
Hannah Jane
For the love of all that is good and holy, I will pay you whatever you want to steal Isaac’s phone and throw it off the top of a very tall building.
Spenser
You realize I work for Isaac LAWSON, right? Pretty sure he can outbid you any day of the week, Miss Thang. What you’re asking for isn’t cheap.
Hannah Jane
Name your price. Just find him, grab his phone, and destroy it.
Spenser
Why?
What was I supposed to tell him? Your boss gave me a pair of vibrating panties that he’s controlling from five states away, and if you don’t turn his phone off, I’m going to orgasm in the middle of a client meeting.
Yeah, pretty much that.
Hannah Jane
Vibrating panties. I’m dying.
Spenser
Your wish is my command. You owe me.
Ten seconds. Thirty seconds. Forty seconds, and then it stopped. I waited for the vibrator to turn back on, but it never did.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I had never been so excited to not orgasm.
With their questions answered and concerns erased, Alyssa and Tyler were ready to pull the trigger right then and there. Score!
As they signed the contract and wrote me a massive check, an email popped up on my computer screen.
Isaac Lawson [email protected]
Miss Hayes ,
I have a hunch that my assistant barreling into a board meeting, spilling a cup of coffee all over me, stealing my phone, and then leaving its mangled corpse on top of my desk is your doing. I think he backed over it with a bulldozer.
Lucky for him, Spenser is irreplaceable.
Unlucky for you, your ass will pay tonight.
All my love,
Isaac
I laughed the rest of the workday.
I laughed on the drive home.
I laughed when I packed up all of my warpaint and drove to Steve and Erica’s.
I laughed the entire time the sexy six got primped and primed for girls’ night. Spenser was the best, and I was forever indebted to him.
“Bottom’s up!” Maddie screeched as she snagged a shot glass from the bar. We toasted and knocked back our shots. It took a near-kidnapping to get Erica to come out to Jokers with us tonight. She finally agreed when Steve strapped on the backpack baby carrier like a champ and brought four-month-old Aly to her first girls’ night.
Was it appropriate to bring a baby to a bar?
The six of us scurried our scantily clad asses to the dance floor and boot-scooted over the pretzel dust and peanut shells.
Tonight, we decided that the theme was country cliche. Maddie and Bee matched in cut-off Daisy Dukes and cropped tank tops. Mel and I had our flannel shirts tied at the bust. I dusted my cowgirl boots off and wiggled into a pair of shorts I hadn’t seen since high school. Kristin and Erica were in flowery sundresses, and had their hair in braids.
We looked like a ragtag bunch of country music video rejects, and it was fantastic. Three more dances and a round of beers later, we were back to our usual havoc-wreaking selves.
Bridget was drunk off her ass and had wrangled Chase into a “Make It Shake” dance-off. Not that he protested in the slightest. My knees and thighs hurt just watching them dance.
Erica was stone-cold sober and trying to convince Mel that karaoke was a good idea. Maddie was all for it, but nobody wanted to hear her sing. I loved the girl, but she sounded like a cat trapped in a dishwasher.
I plopped my behind down on a barstool and asked the newbie bartender for a glass of water. Poor thing looked like a deer in headlights.
“Hannah Banana!” Maddie squealed as she plopped down beside me. “How’s my sister-wife doing?” Instead of water, she ordered a cup of whiskey.
Just a large cup of whiskey.
I laughed. “How are we sister wives?”
“Well,” she began, slapping her palms against the bartop to command my attention. “I married Luca.”
I sipped my water, snickering, “I know, babe. I was there.”
“That’s right! You were! How was it? Was the wedding great?” She leaned in and tried to whisper, but it came out more like a shout. “I don’t know if you knew this, but I had a couple’a drinks at the reception. Shhhh.” She put her finger to her lips.
I leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep that between us.” While I had Maddie distracted, Luca swooped in and swapped her whiskey for a glass of water and a plate of mozzarella sticks. She didn’t even notice.
Maddie began happily munching on mozzarella sticks like it was her intent all along. “But get this. So, like, Luca and Isaac—they’re tight. Like brothers, but you know—not brothers. And I married Luca, and you’re with Isaac, and so it’s like we’re sister wives! Livin’ the dream, baby!” She threw her hands in the air and shook her tits in celebration.
I stole a mozzarella stick. Dragging it through the marinara, I said, “You know that doesn’t make us sister-wives, right? That would make us… Not even sisters-in-law. Sorry, babe. For us to be sister wives, I’d have to marry Luca too.”
Maddie eyed her husband, turned back to me, and deadpanned, “He might go for it. I could convince him.”
We keeled over, laughing until our stomachs ached.
The hinges of the front door screamed something obscene as it opened. Every head in our run-down backwoods honky tonk turned.
Isaac, dressed to the nines in Armani, stood in the doorway.
Our eyes met, and he licked his lips like a predator.
“Oh my damn,” Kristin muttered as she joined Maddie and me. “He is undressing you with his eyes.”
Mel craned in. “Oh my damn is right. I hope to God you’re on birth control because that man could get you pregnant just looking at you.”
“Ooh! What are we talking about?” Erica said as she wiggled into the fold.
Bridget smirked and pointed at the door. “Him.”