Chapter Twenty-Four
Twenty-Four
Simon
It was the first time I had cried about losing Gramps.
And it seemed that once the tears started, I couldn’t stop them.
Normally, I would have been shamed by my loss of control.
But it was different with Hannah. In the weeks I had come to know her, she had given me something that no one in my life could—I was safe with her. I could be vulnerable with her.
The coconut-lime scent of her hair washed over me in a soothing wave.
I pulled her in even tighter, reveling in her softness, her warmth, and the feel of her hands running up and down my back as she comforted me.
It was working. Slowly the knot of grief in my throat eased and I could breathe.
I gave her a final squeeze and let her go even though I knew I would prefer to stay in her arms permanently, if given the option.
“Thank you.” My voice was hoarse.
“Anytime.” She reached up and brushed my hair off my forehead in a tender gesture that made my throat ache all over again. She leaned forward and brushed her mouth against mine. “It’s good to let the sadness out every now and then.”
I nodded. I couldn’t deny that I felt lighter in that moment than I had in months. Would I have cried if I’d been alone in this house with the trunk? Probably not. But having Hannah here, also grieving her Pops, made my grief feel less overwhelming.
While I sat there regrouping, taking in the work I had done so many years ago, Hannah went back to the trunk, sifting through the items as if looking for something specific. She came up with a blank sketchpad and a pack of pencils and turned to me with her eyes alight. “Do me.”
I blinked, panicked at the thought of what she was asking. I tried to divert her. “Here and now? Okay, but Dude is right downstairs and the door is open.”
She laughed and it trickled down my spine like a musical waterfall. “Very funny. I meant draw me.” She thrust the materials at me, giving me no choice but to take them.
“I…it’s been…I don’t…” I stammered. I hadn’t drawn anything more than doodles during long boring meetings in years.
“Listen, we’re more than halfway through our summer share, and I want something to remember you by. If you’re uncomfortable drawing me, draw Dude. I would love that.”
At her assertion that this situationship was headed toward an ending, I felt my chest constrict.
With each day that I spent with her, I had a harder time imagining a day where I didn’t hear her singing the same three lines of a song on repeat, or smell her shampoo, or hear her call Dude to come and eat.
Her life was becoming entwined with mine and the fact that I didn’t mind at all and rather wanted our lives to be enmeshed should have scared me stupid. Instead, I welcomed it. All of it.
“My work is…”
“Charming? Whimsical? Fantastic?” she asked, her blue eyes twinkling so brightly I was certain I could see stars in them. There was my first image.
“All right,” I said. “I’ll do you on one condition.” My voice dropped on “do you” and she actually shivered. I lowered my gaze to the pencils in my hand so I didn’t pounce on her right then and there.
“What’s the condition?” she asked, and then whispered, “Please let it be sexual favors.”
I let out a surprised laugh and she grinned. I leaned forward and kissed her firmly on the mouth. “Behave.”
“Trying my best,” she whispered against my lips. “I swear.”
It was my turn to shiver. I held her gaze and said, “The condition is that you don’t get to look at the piece until I’m done.”
She looked like she would balk, but I lifted my eyebrows in a this is not negotiable look and she sighed very dramatically.
“Fine. Have it your way,” she said.
“I will.” I put aside the pad and pencils. “Now off with your clothes.”
“What? I am not posing nude.” She put her hand over her chest as if trying to cover herself. “No one needs to see that.”
“Correction.” I rose to my feet and grabbed her hands, pulling her up with me. “I need to see it, all of it, especially if I’m going to do you.”
“I’m never going to hear the end of that unfortunate phrase, am I?” she asked.
“No.” I ducked low and caught her in an over-the-shoulder fireman’s hold.
“Simon! I’m too heavy. Put me down,” she protested.
“No, you’re not and, no, I won’t,” I said as I strode across the hall to the other bedroom. “I need some time to study my subject if I’m going to do you properly.”
I heard her snort-laugh and I felt myself smile. I set her down on her feet when we reached our bedroom. All teasing aside, I wanted her to feel equal control in this situation. I stepped back, giving her space and was completely unprepared when she pounced.
I caught her when she launched herself at me. It was a real hardship as I was forced to cup her backside with my hands while she wrapped her legs around my waist, buried her fingers in my hair, and kissed me until everything went fuzzy and I started to see spots.
“Bed. Now. O’Malley.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She didn’t have to ask me once.
I kicked the door shut behind us so that Dude wouldn’t feel the need to investigate any noise he heard coming from the room, because if I had it my way there was going to be an awful lot of noise, preferably her begging me for more and crying my name out in that insanely sexy way she had.
We staggered to the bed and dropped on top of it without breaking the kiss.
She tugged at my clothes while I yanked on hers, our fingers got tangled, and we both laughed.
The need to be skin to skin with her was all-consuming.
I wanted to bury myself deep inside of her soft warmth and escape all the grief and anger I’d been carrying for what felt like years.
Hannah squirmed out from under me, taking my shirt with her. Before I could catch up, she had my shorts whisked off, leaving me in just my briefs. Not gonna lie, it was oddly exhilarating to have such enthusiasm coming at me from a person who didn’t want anything from me except sex. Wait a minute.
Suddenly, as flattering as it was to be wanted, it also felt incredibly important to me that I meant more to her than being a sex toy in human form. I caught her around the waist and rolled her beneath me, catching her hands with mine so as not to be distracted by her questing fingers.
“Real talk,” I said.
“Now?” Her blue eyes were heavy lidded in a seductive look that almost made me lose my focus.
“Yes.” My tone was firm.
She went still then her eyes narrowed, blasting away every bit of sexy siren. She pulled her hands from mine and braced them against my chest and asked, “Are you married, O’Malley, because if you are, so help me…”
“No!” I was appalled at the thought of being a cheater. “It’s nothing like that. Why would you even think that about me?”
“Sorry.” She winced. “I might have some trust issues.”
“Understandable.” I brushed a lock of hair from her face.
The thought that her ex had done such a number on her made my jaw tighten and I wished I’d been around to protect her.
I hoped for his sake, I never ran into the guy because I didn’t think I’d be able to keep myself from planting my fist in his face.
“Hey.” Hannah cupped my face and brought my gaze to meet hers. “What are you thinking?”
“I won’t hurt you like that,” I said. It wasn’t what I’d planned to say.
I’d planned to confess that this was more than sex for me, that I had feelings in play, but I didn’t have the balls to go there if she wasn’t ready for that sort of confession.
I couldn’t demand more from her than she was willing to give and I didn’t want to make things awkward between us.
Her eyebrows lifted and she nodded. “Is that it?”
“That’s it,” I confirmed.
She watched me for a beat and I knew she’d figured out that I was going to say something else but had done a last-minute pivot.
“You can trust me, too,” she said. I didn’t know if she meant I could trust her with whatever I’d been about to say or if she was just parroting me to comfort me. It didn’t matter. I’d take all the comfort I could get.
“I know.” I leaned in and kissed her. And then because I wanted to lighten the mood, I said, “Now, about that drawing. I think I want to start here.” I nuzzled the curve of her neck and she let out a sexy gasp that made my cock twitch.
I pulled her T-shirt over her head and slid my lips across her skin until I reached the fancy lace of her bra.
I leaned back to take her in, her dark hair spilled across the pillow, her kiss-swollen lips, and her hands sliding up my bare arms, her fingers wrapped around my biceps as she tried to pull me closer. She was glorious.
I unfastened her bra and let her generous breasts spill.
Whoever said that a boob that was more than a mouthful was a waste was an idiot.
I cupped her breasts and flicked her nipples with my thumbs, alternately pinching them and then soothing them with my tongue.
I glanced up at her face, took in her rosy blush, and I could swear her pupils dilated.
I did it again and again until she arched her back, grinding her head into the pillow as she made the sexiest pants and then broke down to pleading.
“Simon, I need more,” she gasped.
“What sort of more?” I moved my lips down her torso, over her belly, stopping at the waist of her shorts.
It took only moments to unfasten them and slide them down her legs.
When I glanced down, Hannah Spencer was deliciously naked from head to toe and the sight of her made me so hard, I could have drilled through concrete.
“You. I need you. Now.” There was a determined light in her eye that should have warned me, but my brain had only one thought going on a loop in my head. Hannah. I belong to her and she belongs to me.