Chapter Fifteen
Hannah
As I”m settling into my evening routine, the soft knock on my door pulls me out of my thoughts.
It”s late, and I”m not expecting anyone, so I”m surprised when I open the door to find Chris standing there, his expression a mix of distress and vulnerability.
”Chris, what”s wrong?” I ask, immediately concerned as I step back to let him inside.
He enters with heavy steps, his shoulders slumped with a weight I can”t quite decipher.
”Hey, Hannah,” he greets softly, avoiding my gaze as he shuffles into the living room.
“I know that we left things kind of weird, but I just—I need someone right now?”
It’s a question: Will I be that someone, he’s asking.
“That’s okay,” I tell him.
Truth be told, the moment I saw his furrowed brow, his tearful eyes, I forgot all about the anger I felt the last time I saw him. It was childish, of course.
I can see instantly that he didn’t mean to hurt me.
Closing the door behind him, I follow him into the room, my worry growing with each passing second.
”Chris, what happened?” I press gently, taking a seat beside him in a big, leather chair.
He’s in one chair and I’m in the other.
It’s times like these I wish I had a living room with a big squishy couch so that I could sit next to him, wrap my arms around him, and close this gap between us when he so obviously needs it right now.
He runs a hand through his hair, his movements tense and agitated. ”I... I ran into Julie today,” he confesses, his voice laced with sorrow.
My heart sinks at the mention of his ex-girlfriend – ex-fiancée- knowing all too well the complicated emotions she stirs within him.
She stirs complicated emotions within me, too, one of them being guilt that I didn’t warn him she was in town.
This gutted feeling he’s having right now is my fault.
”I”m sorry, Chris,” I murmur sympathetically, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his arm.
He glances up at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and frustration.
“Oh,” he says, when he looks in my eyes. His soften, and I think again what teddy bear eyes he has, rimmed by long curly lashes.
“No, it’s not that. I mean, yes, it was hard to see her. But it’s something else.”
“Something else? What do you mean?”
She had seemed fine when I saw her last, happy even, excited about her new job and not nervous in the least to be back in the same town with her ex.
“I asked her about Noodle,” he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. “And she told me.”
Noodle. The sweet, energetic pup Chris had shared with Julie.
My heart clenches at the thought of her, knowing how much she meant to him.
The clench only gets tighter when I imagine them picking her out together, so in love, holding hands as they look in at sweet puppies whining behind glass walls.
I can see them now, Julie saying, ‘Aw, Chris, look at that one’ and Chris saying ‘She’s perfect.’
A shared look between them. It makes me sick. After the kiss we shared, I don’t want to think of any shared moments between him and anyone but me.
”Told you what?” I ask softly, dreading the answer. I stare at him as his head hangs between his knees.
Chris takes a deep breath, his gaze distant as he recounts Julie”s words. ”She... she got rid of her,” he admits, his voice heavy with desolation.
“Got rid of her?”
His head snaps up and he narrows his eyes as he looks at me. ”Yes. Just abandoned her like she meant nothing.”
The news hits me like a punch to the gut, my empathy for him completely devastating, and I reach out to squeeze Chris”s hand in silent solidarity.
”Oh, I”m so sorry, Chris,” I murmur, struggling to find the right words to comfort him.
”Thanks, Hannah,” he says softly, his voice thick with emotion. ”I just... I needed to be here. Is it okay?”
I nod in understanding. I stand up and cross to him to hug him, letting him rest his warm cheek against my stomach. ”Of course, Chris,” I reply, offering him a small smile. ”I”m here for you, always.”
”Thank you,” he whispers, leaning into my touch as if seeking refuge from the storm raging within him. I rake my fingers through his curls, swirling them across his scalp.
In that moment, as we face the sorrow together in the quiet comfort of my office, I realize just how much Chris has come to mean to me.
As I hold him, my hands stroking his hair, the back of his neck, his shoulder blades, offering him whatever solace I can, I think about all the other ways I want to offer him solace.
The other day, in his apartment, I had wanted to lose my virginity to him.
More than I had ever considered it with anyone else.
I had been on the edge of asking him to take me. I’ve been imagining it, and I don’t know how long I can pretend I don’t want it anymore. Even now, having his body against me is shortening my breath.
In the dimly lit room, the weight of Chris”s pain hangs heavy in the air. I search for something, anything, that might offer him a semblance of comfort in this moment of heartache.
”Would you like something to drink?” I offer gently, hoping to distract him momentarily from his grief.
He shakes his head, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the walls of the small room. ”No, I”m okay,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Are you sure? I might not know how to cook, but I can mix liquor with mixer,” I joke, squeezing him against me.
He shakes his head without comment. I nod, respecting his silent request for solitude as I remain by his side, offering silent support in the face of his pain.
Minutes pass in silence, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle of fabric as Chris shifts. I resist the urge to speak, knowing that sometimes, the greatest comfort comes from simply being present.
Eventually, Chris breaks the silence, his voice barely audible as he speaks.
”I didn”t think it would hit me this hard,” he admits, his words tinged with regret.
“I never expected to know what happened to Noodle, but I also didn’t expect it to be that she doesn’t even have her anymore.”
My heart aches at his anguish. Even more than that, I’m filled with anger thinking of Julie inflicting this pain on him without care.
”It”s okay to feel this way, Chris,” I assure him, my voice gentle yet firm. ”Noodle meant a lot to you, and it”s only natural to grieve her loss.”
He nods, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. ”I just wish I could have done more,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.
I pet his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” I wait a moment before asking a potentially painful question. “What did she say happened?”
Chris laughs bitterly. “Oh. Noodle was peeing on her floor, so she just…got rid of her.”
“Got rid of her where?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask. I guess I should have asked.”
“No, no, that’s okay. I’m sure it was hard to think.”
“Well, that, and she practically ran away from me when we started talking about Noodle.”
He pulls away from me, pulling me into him by my waist. I feel my skin light up at his touch as he does.
“Why didn’t you tell me Julie was in town, by the way?” he asks, looking me right in my eyes, looking to see a hint of deception, I know.
The question catches me off guard, and I feel a knot form in the pit of my stomach.
”What do you mean?” Wrong answer. “No, I’m sorry. I know what you mean. But how did you know?”
A small chuckle escapes his throat. “Hannah, Julie hasn’t been in town in five years, and you reacted like I said I saw Tyler. You saw her, didn’t you?”
Busted. “I did. At a bookstore.”
“So, why didn’t you tell me?”
He pulls me down to sit on his lap. His arms wind around my waist, and he props me up against his shoulder so he can look into my face.
I feel strangely off-guard in his lap, like he could ask me anything and I’d have to tell the truth.
Swallowing, I say hesitantly, “I... I didn”t think it was important,” finding that I can lie after all, my mind racing to find the right words.
Chris’ expression morphs from curiosity into one that’s a mix of disbelief and hurt. ”Not important?” he echoes, his voice tinged with anger. ”Hannah, come on.”
I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on me. ”I know,” I admit quietly, avoiding his gaze. “I knew it was important. I was afraid of how important it might be. I was afraid that...”
”Afraid that what?” he interrupts, his tone softer now, but no less intense.
I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts before meeting his eyes. Just a few days ago, I told him my biggest secret, something no one in my life knows…and then I told him another.
He was kind, and I walked out like he wasn’t. If I tell him this, I have to deal with the consequences. I have to sit and let him respond.
All of my skin feels electric. I’m terrified to speak. My mouth is dry, and my heart is the inside of a metal drum.
”Afraid that if you saw her, maybe you’d meet up, and maybe she’d tell you she wanted to give it another shot, and maybe…”
“Maybe what?”
“Maybe you would want to. Give it another shot, I mean. Maybe you’d choose her over me,” I confess, the words tumbling out before I can stop them.
”She’s beautiful, and she’s older, and her brother isn’t your best friend,” I say pointedly, and Chris chuckles.
I continue, “And she”s from your past. This, whatever this is, it just started. I still don’t even know what to call it. I didn”t want to risk losing you to her.”
Chris”s expression softens at my words, and I can see the conflict raging behind his eyes.
”Hannah, you have nothing to worry about,” he says gently, reaching out to cup my cheek. ”I don’t know what to call this yet, either, but whatever it is, I want to keep doing it.”
His touch sends a shiver down my spine, and I lean into his hand, relishing the warmth of his touch.
I leave his lap briefly and get up to lock the office door.
I climb back onto Chris and lean down, kissing him deeply, feeling his erection against my thigh. His teeth catch my bottom lip and pull it out slowly before letting go. I moan at the sensation and palm his cheeks with my hands.
His hands knead into the meat of my waist as I press my tongue between his lips. He returns with his tongue against mine, our tongues competing and swirling around each other.
I sit up and wrap my legs around him, straddling him in the chair, my hands still on his face, my mouth pushed against his, my breathing heavy. My heart feels like it might beat out of my chest as his hands explore my body.
I lean away from him, holding myself up with my thighs, and pull my shirt off.
He helps me and throws it to the ground. He sighs longingly at the sight of my breasts in a brown, silk bra, and runs his hands down over my ribs, down across my lower back, igniting a trail of fire where his skin touches mine.
I feel a wet patch grow in my panties as he does, and I arch my back to moan at the ceiling, covering my face in embarrassment.
His hands shoot out to pull mine away from my eyes.
“Hey, don’t be embarrassed,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky with desire. “I love that every little thing I do turns you on.”
His smirk is deep, and he knows he’s mocking me. When I hug him to avoid looking at him, he repositions my hips so that his bulge is against the crotch of my jeans.
“Can’t you feel that every little thing you do turns me on, too?” he whispers in my ear, and I feel the walls of my vagina lurch and clench at his breath on my skin and his cock against me.
His hands still on my hips, he moves my hips against him, pulling me in a circle against his bulge, grinding me against it, his breathing ragged in my ear. With one hand, he grips my hair at the roots and pulls my head to the side so he can suck on my neck. His hand travels over to the strap of my bra and moves it aside so he can continue to kiss and suck on my shoulder, on my throat, on my ear.
“Do you want to be a virgin, or do you want me?” he asks me.
“I want…I want you,” I tell him, and I know it’s the truth. I’ve wanted him since the day he walked into my business and I ran off to fantasize about him and touch myself alone in my bed. He’s been special to me from the moment I laid eyes on him.
“You do?”
“Mhm,” I say quietly, burying my face in his neck.
“Let’s get you out this bra,” he says quietly, his hands finding the clasp of my bra and unhooking it. For a moment, I hold my bra against my breasts, knowing that the moment I let go, everythingng changes.
“I’ll be slow and gentle,” he assures me, sensing my hesitance. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. If you change your mind, you let me know. Okay? It won’t change anything about how I feel.”
“Are you sure?”
He laughs a little and leans up to kiss me. “I’m sure.”
I feel safe with his chest against mine, and I let go of my bra, letting it stay between us.
I can feel his smile against my mouth, and he pulls the bra out from between our chests and throws it to the ground.
“Hey, there you go,” he whispers. “That was brave.”
His wide palms spread out against my back, and I feel small for the first time in my life like that. One hand sneaks around to the front and he palms one of my breasts with it, tweaking my nipple the way I tweak my nipple when I’m alone.
I can’t help but shudder at the feeling it ignites between my legs, and I feel my pussy dribble into the crease of my inner thighs.
“God,” I whisper against his mouth, unable to make my lips into the shape of a kiss, only able to feel.
“Does that feel good, baby?” he asks me, his eyes on my face, watching my every reaction. His mouth is dropped open as he does, like I’m a fascinating scene in a movie.
“Uh-huh,” is all I can manage to squeak out.
“How good do you want to feel? Can you handle feeling better than this? Why don’t you let me taste you?”
I gasp at the thought of Chris Stephens between my legs, and I clench my thighs reflexively in response.
“Oh, you want that, don’t you? I bet you’ve thought about it before, haven’t you?” he asks me.
He holds me by the lower back and leans me back so he can fit his mouth around my nipple. His tongue flicks against it, lighting it up, enjoying my small squeals of delight as he does so.
He laughs a little at the sounds and ignores me bashfully covering my eyes.
I can’t decide what I want more: to be fucked or to be eaten.
Thinking of Chris’ tongue in my pussy is enough to send my walls into an attack of convulsions, but thinking of his cock pressing against my little hole excites me even more.
“I want you right now, Chris,” I tell him honestly. “I’m so wet, and I just want to feel you inside me.”
I feel so lusty that I can’t even feel any shame over being so candid. My eyes stare into his as I unbutton his and my jeans. I stand and pull them down slowly for him, then turning around and shaking my ass.
His laugh is tender and he leans forward and bites my ass cheek a little before spanking it.
“Dinner and a show?” he asks me before pulling me into him as though he’s going to hug me. He pulls my panties to the side and positions his head where he can slide his tongue between my flaps like he’s licking shut an envelope.
His flat tongue swipes against my slit a few times, his knuckles pressed hard against my thigh as he holds the cotton of my underwear.
I spread my legs to allow more room for his head between my thighs and rest my hands in his hair, gasping at the feeling of his tongue, wet and warm and probing. I want to cry from how good it feels, so alien to me and yet like a sensation I’ve known all along
The tip of his tongue plunges inside me and I almost-scream as it does. His hands grip my ass and pull me in tighter.
I push his head away and yank his pants off. “I need you. I can’t wait anymore,” I tell him.
“Sorry. I just needed to taste you,” he tells me, his eyes on mine as I pull his pants down over his legs and mount him.
I look down, afraid to see one for the first time, and see his thick cock standing at attention, the head of it lightly spilling pre-cum out. The skin of the head is reddish and seems to be bursting at the seams, his veins standing out.
I reach down and wrap my hand around it, feeling his sticky pre-cum on my palm.
“How big are you?” I ask curiously.
“I could tell you anything and you’d believe it, huh?”
He’s smiling earnestly, and I giggle as he pulls me against him.
“I guess so, yeah.”
“I’m 13 inches long, then. Spread the word.”
As he says ‘spread’, he knocks my legs open with his hands. He pulls my underwear to the side.
“God, you have the most beautiful little pussy I’ve ever seen, Hannah. Has anyone ever told you that?”
I laugh. “You know they haven’t.”
“So you’ve lived all this time not knowing? Oh, I’m so glad I get to change that.”
I’m positioned right above him, and all I have to do is sit, feel him enter me. I hold myself above it, cherishing the moment.
There’s something special about it, holding onto the second you are still a virgin but know you won’t be soon, like falling asleep before your birthday.
I brace one arm against the back of the chair and lower myself slowly. My head flies back as the tip of his penis presses against my entrance, stretching just a bit but sliding easily against my slickness.
Tears instantly surface at my ducts, merging into one watery tear at my waterline, obscuring my vision.
“Are you okay, Hannah?” Chris asks, wiping my tears away with his thumb.
“I am, I am. It feels good. I’m just…overwhelmed. It’s okay, keep going.”
I gasp as he holds my hips and lowers me another centimeter. The feeling of his shaft entering me and touching every nerve ending I’ve only ever touched myself overwhelms me even more, and I groan with desire.
I let myself sit down entirely on his hard cock so that the length of him can fill me. It’s a sensation I’ve always wondered about, the fullness, and I can only handle it for a moment before I start wriggling against it, moving up and down on it.
I look down at his face, and he looks sick with desire, his eyes on me, his mouth slightly open as he lets me take control. I hold him tightly and rock up and down, feeling him harden and expand even more than I thought possible.
“Oh, God, Hannah, it’s too good,” he tells me, and I feel him pulsing against my walls.
And it is too good.
As he says that, I feel his pulsing, and all of a sudden I feel my vagina contracting in a rhythm that can’t be tamed, squeezing on and around his cock dangerously fast.
I’m sliding against him faster now, able to feel his length inside me with no pain now, and I hold him tight so that his face is in my neck.
Our hips feel fused together as one, and he pushes against me with my rhythm, the squelching of my pussy audible in the silence of the room. In this dark space, it’s just our breathing, our moans, and my juices.
I start to scream an orgasm, feeling it rip through my body, up to my chest and out of my mouth.
He holds me tight and continues to pump inside me, letting me ride the sensation until it’s over. “Cum inside me,” I tell him. “Please.”
He needs no convincing. The words are barely out of my mouth before I feel ropes of his cum being emptied inside me, spraying me as he grunts against my neck, his hands squeezing me with the effort.