3. Hannah Jane
3
HANNAH JANE
I shifted my weight back and forth as I watched the vendors pack up and head out. When the ballroom emptied and the last of my staff clocked out, I slipped my heels off and did the final walk-through barefoot.
The cool marble floor felt like heaven against my sore feet. I should have changed into flats after the send-off. Instead, I got sidetracked by handing out cash tips to all the vendors. Now my blisters had blisters.
Thank God I had peroxide in my office to remove the bloodstains from the lining of my shoes.
I cut the ballroom lights off and strolled down the quiet hallway toward my office. I usually unwound after a wedding with champagne at my desk, but my body ached for a warm bath. Alcohol still sounded nice, though. It would be coming with me.
What better place to get buzzed than a giant vat of bubbles?
Maddie tried to convince me to let an associate planner handle the event coordination, but there was no way I was going to trust anyone else with my best friend's big day.
Besides, being the maid-of-honor without a date would have been torture. Especially since everyone I knew was madly in love. That would have just been downright sadistic.
Maddie and Luca were a match made in heaven.
Steve and Erica were obsessed with each other.
Bridget and Kyle were settling into the cohabitation stage of their relationship. Kyle would probably pop the question within a year, if I had to guess.
Kristin was single, but she had enough on her plate as it was.
Melissa still had a broken heart to mend. She took in stride when Steve didn't reciprocate the feelings that she had harbored for years, but I knew it still killed her inside. She'd bounce back, though.
And Chase? Well, Chase was another story. He'd never admit it, but it seemed as if he had finally accepted that Bee and Kyle were together for the long haul.
He lived a few doors down from me. A few nights back, I spotted him sitting on his porch with a woman I'd never seen before.
About time he stopped pining after Bridget…
Being the dictator on Maddie's wedding day gave me a purpose. As a bonus, no one thought twice when I didn't show up with a date.
Sure, Chase pulled me out on the dance floor, but that’s just what he always did. We were close friends and neighbors, but not each other’s type. It kept life uncomplicated. He came over for dinner occasionally, or I'd walk to his place to hang out on boring nights.
I gave the girl behind the front desk a tired wave as I walked by with my heels in hand. I swiped my key card, unlocking the administrative hallway. Few people saw this part of the inn. There were only a handful of rooms back here—my office, the general manager’s office, and the staff break room. It was a ghost town at this time of night—well—morning .
I pulled my earpiece out and let it hang over my shoulder. It was how I communicated with my staff when we spread throughout the inn. I nudged my office door handle down with my elbow as I grabbed the battery pack clipped to my bra strap.
“ Hell yes, ma’am,” a chuckling voice said from inside my office.
I shrieked and jumped backward, flinging my shoes and the battery pack across the floor.
The door slammed shut between me and that trespassing asshole. Isaac Lawson.
I took a second to compose myself and slip my heels back on. Then, I yanked the door open wide and gave him a wider than necessary berth. “Out.”
Isaac was lounging in my chair, feet up on my desk, and an empty champagne flute beside my computer mouse. I could still see the rim of fizz left on the glass.
That bastard drank my fucking champagne.
He grinned, flashing a pearly white smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. I couldn't decide if he was devilishly handsome or just the devil.
“Don’t stop on my account,” he said, waving his hand toward my blouse. “I thought it would take more convincing before I got you to take your clothes off. But if you’re ready, then be my guest.”
I looked down to find the top of my bra cup peeking out. The neckline was dangerously close to spilling off my shoulder. The hem was askew, popping out of my skirt. I righted myself and made my blouse presentable.
“Tsk, tsk,” Isaac mocked and shook his head. “And here I was, thinking you were gonna take me up on my offer to blow your mind.”
I huffed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “So help me God, if you do not leave my office in three seconds, I am going to lose my shit.”
“I’d pay big money to see that. ”
“If you’re paying me for anything, it’s to replace that bottle of champagne you stole out of my desk,” I snapped. “And do I even want to know how you got back here? Guest key cards don’t work on these doors.”
He pointed at the other side of my computer monitor to a bottle of Dom Pérignon that was presented in an ice bucket—just how room service always arranged it.
I didn’t even want to know what the upcharges to his room were going to be to cover fetching a bottle of Dom for him at this time of night.
“How ‘bout this,” Isaac said, clapping his hands together as he put his feet on the ground and leaned forward. “Why don’t you put your fighting words away and have a drink with me?”
“Why don’t you go fuck yourself?” I said, walking to the coat rack to grab my purse.
Isaac shrugged. “I’d rather fuck you.”
Oh, he was asking for a legendary haranguing. “Get this through your brain,” I snapped, spinning on my heels to face him. “You have done nothing but make my job harder for the last twenty-four hours. Is your head really that far up your ass? There’s no way you’re actually delusional enough to think I would ever sleep with a womanizing misogynist like you.”
Isaac popped the champagne and poured a glass. He offered it to me first. When I stared at him like the moron he was, he took a sip and gave the bottle a look of approval. “See, you say that, but you don’t actually know me.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know enough.”
“You sound just like Maddie did with Luca, and look how well that turned out,” he said with a laugh.
“You weren’t there when shit hit the fan.”
His jaw set in a hard line and he nodded. “You’re right. I wasn’t here. I flew to New York City to catch Maddie before she made a mistake and left my boy just because of something some cunt did. ”
My jaw dropped. “You did not just use that word.”
He raised his eyebrows. “What word?” he asked casually. “Cunt? What would you call the two women who tried to break up our two best friends? Because I would call them cunts.”
“You’re incorrigible,” I gasped.
He just shrugged casually. “And you still haven’t removed that stick up your ass. That can’t be comfortable.”
“And you’re still in my office. I’m sure Steve and Chase would call it breaking and entering. Should I give them a call?”
He grinned, and it sent a zip of electricity dancing down my spine.
Isaac stood up and buttoned his suit jacket. “There was no breaking, Princess. Only entering. It would be trespassing at most. Plus, I have a room in your fine inn. All I have to say is that I got lost.”
He handed me the glass of champagne. When I didn’t dare take a sip, he took it back.
“You think I'd slip something in a lady’s drink like a pathetic scumbag who can’t get himself laid?” He took a sip from the glass and handed it back.
So, it wasn’t poisoned. Lucky me.
I would be a fool to turn down a perfectly good bottle of Dom, right?
I took a tiny, begrudging sip.
Isaac smiled victoriously and pulled over one of the upholstered chairs I had on the other side of my desk for client meetings.
He took the glass out of my hand and motioned for me to sit in my desk chair. Refilling the glass, he took a sip, then handed it over to me.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Princess. I’m not a misogynist. I love women and I love sex. That doesn’t make me a villain. It makes me a man who appreciates the beauty of the female body.”
I tipped my head back, drained the glass, and poured myself another. “You’re a manwhore. ”
“Wow.” He chuckled, stealing the glass before I could drink anymore. He gulped down half of it and passed it back. “You don’t hold any punches, do you?”
“Can’t take it?” I countered.
“Nah,” he smirked. His blue eyes gleamed playfully. “I can take it. If it’s true, that is. What makes you think I’m a manwhore?”
“What makes you think I’ll waste my time explaining it to you?”
“You’re still here, aren’t you?”
I took a pensive sip and studied him as I savored the bubbly on my tongue. “Maybe I’m curious why you’re still here.”
“Maybe I’m curious about you.”
“Why?” I asked as I took another sip. “Because I’m the only woman on earth who’s ever turned you down?”
“A little bit, yeah,” he said, reaching over and pulling my rolling desk chair close.
He leaned down and picked up my feet. I nearly toppled over, but he paid no mind as he tossed my high heels on the floor and let me use the edge of his chair as a footrest.
“So. Why don’t you go first and tell me why you think I’m a manwhore?”
I giggled and helped myself to another glass from the bottle that seemed endless. “I mean, it should be pretty obvious.”
Isaac leaned closer, beckoning me in with a crooked finger. And, like an obedient little puppy, I hunched over. “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret, Han. All those women? There’s this convenient little thing called consent. You may have heard of it.”
I wagged a finger at him and shook my head. “Nuh-uh. Consent doesn’t mean you didn’t break their hearts. It just means you didn’t violate their physical boundaries.”
He shrugged and sat back in the chair. “Every woman that’s been with me knew what to expect on the front end. I never lie about what I want or what I can give.”
“And what exactly is it that you can give? ”
“Mind-blowing orgasms and a night to remember. No strings and lots of fun. No awkward morning after. I’m transparent. I don’t date. I don’t marry. I fuck, and I do it well.”
“There are always strings, Lawson.”
“Not for me,” Isaac said, knocking back the last half of the champagne left in the glass.
I went to pour another, but the bottle was empty.
He pointed at my desk. “Bottom drawer.”
I yanked the drawer open and found a second bottle of Dom Pérignon. For a moment, I wasn’t bothered by Mr. Moneybags and his trespassing. Not when there was good champagne in my desk.
At the moment, I was more concerned with popping the cork than acting like I didn’t want it. The buzz eased the tension in my shoulders and I wanted to keep that going.
“If the women I spend my nights with catch feelings, that’s on them. Not me. I’m always upfront about what will happen.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I conceded as I downed another glass and passed it to him, empty. “But you’re with, like, a lot of women. Maddie’s told me about you.”
He chuckled as he filled the glass again and took a sip. “I’ll try not to let it go to my head that you’ve talked about me.” He took another drink and dragged the pad of his thumb across his bottom lip to wipe away the sheen. “Let me put it to you this way: some men buy their dream car and drive nothing else for their entire lives. And that’s cool. To each their own.”
“Let me guess: you like your garage full and your options open?”
Isaac finished his glass, poured another, and handed it to me. “No, I like to think of myself as a mechanic. I like all cars. All makes and models. Shapes and sizes. I enjoy popping their hoods and finding out what makes them tick. I love the feeling when I get them to perform at their peak. I don’t use women. I appreciate them. ”
“You did not just compare women to cars.”
“I believe what you meant to say is that I just made a winning argument,” he retorted.
I tossed back another glass of champagne. “Then what did you win?”
He tapped his fingers on the armrest of the chair and looked me up and down without an ounce of shame. “I wanna know more about what you said when we were dancing.”
I snorted. “Why? So you can pop my hood and figure out what makes me tick?”
He grinned. “Something like that.”
“You’re gonna have to elaborate, because the only thing I remember telling you was to suck my dick.”
Isaac stroked the sandy stubble on his jaw and kicked his ankle up to rest on his knee. Regardless of the situation, he always looked comfortable. Relaxed.
I, on the other hand, was as uptight as they came.
“I wanna know why you have such a problem with casual sex.”
“I never said I had a problem with casual sex,” I corrected, pointing a finger at him. “I said I don’t do hookups. There’s a difference.”
“Really?” He chuckled, trailing his index finger along the arch of my foot and up the back of my calf.
Dammit. He had planned every move and, like an idiot, I fell into his trap.
Here I was, thinking we were playing checkers while he was playing chess.
I sat up and went to pull my feet from the edge of his chair when his hand closed around my ankle to keep it still. I let out a little whimper when his thumbs started working along the soles of my sore feet. My eyelids fluttered shut and I blamed it all on the champagne.
“I fall too easily,” I said with a sigh, melting at his touch. Satan himself could have been the one giving me a foot massage and I wouldn’t have cared. It felt too good. “I get attached—even if I agree to a casual relationship. Recovering from having my heart broken hurts too much. I want commitment. Monogamy. Sex is such a small part of relationships. I don’t know why people make it such a big deal. I want companionship.”
“Interesting,” he said flatly.
“What?” I asked.
His hands stilled and I whined, wiggling my foot to get his attention.
If he was going to get me tipsy enough that I’d have to sleep in my office, or worse—swallow my pride and call Chase for a ride, the least he could do was finish the damn foot rub.
“If you have something to say, just say it. Not like you’ve ever held back before.” I ran my hand back through my hair and closed my eyes. “You wouldn’t be the first man to call me a prude, and you certainly won’t be the last.”
Isaac’s hands left my feet, sliding up the back of my legs as his talented fingers worked the stiff muscles in my calves. “I don’t think you’re a prude,” he said. His hands moved a little higher, sliding up under my skirt to my thighs. “But if you think that sex is only a small part of life, that just tells me you’ve never been properly fucked.” He squeezed the inside of my thigh, adding in a low rumble. “I don’t think the boys around here would know what to do with a feisty thing like you.”
My fingers curled around the armrests of the chair. I held on for dear life and closed my eyes. It had been a long time since I’d been this intimate with a man and we were still fully clothed. I didn’t even like Isaac, but I knew he would break my heart if I let him get any closer.
“And you think you would know what to do with me?” I choked out.
Before I could argue, Isaac was lifting me out of my desk chair and into his lap. My skirt bunched around my waist, and he set me down so that I had to straddle him. Cool air rushed around my thighs and I could feel his heated gaze when he noticed that I?—
“Naughty girl.” His smokey timbre sent shivers racing up and down my body. Isaac dragged his finger up the side of my thigh, stalling on my hip where a pair of panties should have been. “It’s a good thing I didn’t know you were bare underneath that skirt when we were dancing. I wouldn’t have been such a gentleman.”
“That was you being a gentleman?”
“That’s what you really want to ask right now?” The corner of his mouth brushed my ear as he leaned in close. “Because I can read your mind, Hannah.”
I gulped. “What am I thinking?”
“You’re wondering what it would be like to spend the night with me. Part of you wants to go for it, and the other part is telling you to run. You’re wondering why I’m not driving my fingers into your pussy right now. I know you’re wet for me.”
Yes, yes, and yes. “I don’t do casual relationships, Isaac.”
“I’m not asking for casual. It’s only one night,” he murmured. “No strings. No commitment. Just one night that’ll blow your mind.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned forward, resting my forehead on his. “I can’t. It’ll be like every other time I’ve tried. I don’t want to get hurt.”
“In the morning, I’ll be on a plane back to my life, and you’ll go back to yours,” he said as his finger trailed along the ridge of my collarbone. Slowly, he followed the neckline of my blouse to where it dipped between my breasts. “I’m not sticking around. I’m not even asking for your number. No expectations except a minimum number of times I make you come.”
I had to admit—Isaac made a persuasive argument. I chewed on my lip. “I don’t even like you.”
“No, but you’ll like it when I fuck you.”