No Weddings (28 page)

Then they all leaned in close, whispering. I heard snippets about Toby’s hot ass, the carved abs Kendall visualized beneath his thin cotton shirt on casual Friday, something about spilled coffee and licking.

I blinked, scrubbing and bleaching my mind of all thoughts having to do with Kendall and licking.

Hannah laughed, leaning back, resting her hand high on my thigh like it belonged there. Warmth from her touch went through the denim, scalding my skin beneath. Then thoughts of Hannah and licking followed. I groaned, gritting my teeth.

Through the torture, I focused on Hannah. She seemed to be having a great time. In the middle of all the people who infiltrated my daily life, she felt comfortable. She belonged.

Tiffany had rotated in and out through the conversation and now appeared with a tray holding six green-glowing martini glasses. When one was handed to Hannah, I arched a brow at her, surprised.

Nudging me with her shoulder, she laughed. “I’m experimenting; it’s a girl thing.”

She hummed with pleasure after the first sip and licked her lips.

And I now liked that drink.

I also became hyperaware of everything to do with Hannah as she grew more relaxed. Her windblown hair, low-cut top, and glistening lips were only the start of it. The way she stretched her legs out, then pulled them back and flexed her calves. The way she curled her fingers into my thigh, scraping lightly with her fingernails while she listened to the girls.

As the level of frothy drink went down in the martini glass, her sensuality went up. Her entire forearm now rested on my thigh, and her hand had fallen to the inside, her fingers drawing small circles.

My body went bowstring tight, and I had to focus to breathe steadily. No longer interested in staying at the club, I turned my attention to the guys. They seemed to have written me off, absent as I was, and two other guys had joined in on their conversation. They were in a heated debate over something to do with baseball.

Before I lost my mind, I slid my hand into Hannah’s, pulling her up from the couch. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”

Her eyes sparked with amusement. I set my jaw, trying not to smile. She’d known exactly what she was doing to me, getting me worked up beside her. Pride radiated in her expression.

I gave her a stern look and mouthed the word “
bad
.”

She grinned back at me, clearly pleased.

I shook my head. If only I could give her a proper punishment tonight for her crimes. I started a mental list. That kind of fun would have to wait, but I intended to fully collect not long from now. Payback for teasing me mercilessly would be a delicious bitch, and I couldn’t wait.

Ben pegged me with an accusing stare. “Leaving
together
so soon, Just Friends?”

I shot Ben my best don’t-fuck-with-me glare.

Hannah shrugged. “I have to get up early. Gotta make the cupcakes.” She flashed a warm grin and waved to everyone before turning and colliding into my side.

I righted her, holding on to her shoulders for a moment to be sure she had her balance. “You okay to walk out of here?”

She arched a brow. “What’s the other option? You gonna finally go all-out caveman and toss me over your shoulder?”

When the corner of her lower lip disappeared behind her teeth, I’d had enough of her teasing. Faster than she could process, I shoved my shoulder into her waist and grabbed the back of her thighs, hoisting her up. Hannah squealed and struggled, but I clamped my arms around her legs, holding her tight.

“Put me down, Neanderthal!”

As I turned toward the door, Mase shouted behind us, “You are
so
a thing!”

I chuckled. Now I was the one pleased with myself.

The bouncer at the rope grinned, winking at me as he let us through.

I smacked her ass when she began to kick. “Stop flailing. You’re going to hurt someone.”

What felt like her fist pounded into my lower back. “Put me down!”

“No. You started it.” I smirked.

Cool air rushed around us as we stepped out from the covered entrance, and it was a welcome relief to the stifling air from all the warm bodies in the club. By the time we made it to my bike, Hannah had stilled on my shoulder, accepting my control for the time being.

Taking care, I bent with my knees, lowering her down until she found her balance on the pavement in those high heels of hers. A hard slap stung my back the moment I released her.

When I stood up enough to lift my head, she stared at me, indignant. A mix of fury and passion sparked in her eyes, and her wild hair matched her expression. Her chest heaved up and down.

My gaze dropped to the tempting rise and fall of her breasts. Feeling a little wicked, and a lot Neanderthal, I blasted a scorching look at her, thinking about several of the animalistic positions I wanted her in.

Her gaze heated in seconds. Then she swallowed hard, backing up a step. “Stop looking at me like that.” Her voice was breathy, low.

I took a step closer. “Like what?”

“Like…you want to devour me right here.”

I exhaled a slow breath. “I do.”

And she did too. Hannah had actually come farther than she realized, but the safety of her denial made her blind to the signs.

I saw it clearly from her unfiltered actions. She let go the moment she got out of her head—when she lost herself in the fun of my friends and family; each time she focused on her baking. And in every verbal sparring match we’d ever had, she let down her guard and let me in without recognizing her defenses had vanished.

She sucked in a shaky breath, took a deep, considering look at me, then gave me a small smile. “Okay, I cry uncle. I know I started it, but I was just having fun in there.” She smirked. “You’re fun to tease.”

I inhaled deeply, but it did nothing to cool the heated blood in my veins. I was well aware she’d put the brakes on, but I didn’t want to stop the playful banter between us. “Fair warning. I’m keeping track. I’ll play nice for now. But you have no idea what teasing is. I intend to teach you that lesson. With pleasure.”

Her eyes widened, and she licked those kissable, very fuckable, lips again. She wanted to be taught a lesson. It was written in her dilated eyes, in the visible pulse at her throat.

But we weren’t ready to go there.

Yet.

T
he twenty-minute ride back to her place buffered us back into reality. Hannah thought we needed a little more time. Which
meant
we needed a little more time. And I would give her all the space she needed while seducing her slowly.

Over the last couple of months, we’d become great friends, but we’d also become so much more. And although we hadn’t defined what exactly we were yet, classifying it was only a technicality. All of which would rectify itself in time.

But even when she made small unconscious strides, her brain kept interfering, fear pulling her back from where she naturally wanted to be—close to me.

Both of us remained quiet as I helped her off the bike. She said nothing when she unfastened her helmet. After she pulled it off, she set it on the seat and shook her head, ruffling her hair back into sexy disarray.
Fuck.

Then she lifted her gaze to mine, and so many things were said that didn’t need words. Want and need flickered in her eyes, along with a dose of doubt and fear.

She was a mess. But she was
my
mess. And fucked up as I felt at times, I was hers.

As if sensing I needed body contact, she stepped up against me, sliding her fingers into my belt loops as she tugged me against her.

I swallowed hard, staring down at her, uncertain what to do.

There was no protocol for how to handle a woman walking a tightrope between what she wanted and needed, and what she thought she was capable of handling. Nor was there any instruction manual on how a damaged man should proceed in courting her when her fears were his own, his grip on them only slightly tighter than hers.

We were writing the groundbreaking handbook together as we went.

Her brows furrowed. “I wish this wasn’t so hard.”

“Me too. Hey, I get it, Hannah. More than you realize. But we took two different approaches to recover from our heartache.”

She tilted her head. “How did you do it differently?”

“After destroying everything I touched for days, then wallowing in self-pity for another week or more, I buried all the bullshit and threw myself out there, ready or not. This is the first time you’re putting yourself out there with anyone else. When I did it, I lowered the stakes, took my emotions out of it. But through the difficult process, shallow as it may have been, I learned to trust myself again. That’s your problem now. How can you trust me—trust us—when you don’t even trust yourself?”

She shook her head, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“When I got hurt, it wasn’t simply a gut punch. My heart was in deep. She didn’t just hurt me; she almost destroyed me. And she didn’t care one fuck about how I felt. Sound familiar?”

She exhaled. “Yeah.”

“Afterward, for months, I doubted myself. I’m normally the one who’s skilled at reading people. Yet she’d cheated on me multiple times while we’d been together, and I’d had no fucking idea. If I couldn’t make the right decision about the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with—if I
chose
the wrong kind of person to begin with—how in the world could I trust myself to make any good decisions about people at all?”

She nodded, eyes widening. “That’s how I feel.”

I sighed, my heart clenching in pain for her. “I know…you’re still scared. You don’t trust your decision-making abilities.”

“So, you aren’t scared anymore?”

“Sure I am. It’s natural for us to be afraid. Putting blind trust, our very heart, into someone else’s hands takes an incredible amount of faith. We have to go through a dark tunnel, hoping the light on the other side remains and a cave-in doesn’t happen midway through. We have greater fear because we’ve been there. All the walls already collapsed in on us. Yet for us to ever have a chance at love, we have to walk through it all over again, knowing the worst-case scenario.”

Silence followed as my words sank in. A cramp formed at the base of my throat, and I gulped in a breath. Her hand slid down my forearm to my hand, and I turned it over, locking my fingers together with hers.

“So we shore up our tunnel.” She nodded once, making the decision without an ounce of doubt in her voice.

Brave girl.

I smiled. “And we walk through together, hand in hand, focused only on the light at the end.”

She gave me a half smile. “I can’t promise I might not freak out and look at the walls and ceiling now and then.”

“Fuck, Hannah. I’m claustrophobic. I might stop breathing.”

She laughed. “Really? I’m claustrophobic too. But I promise to give you mouth to mouth.”

Her gaze drifted to my lips, and her smile faded. Her tongue flicked out, wetting her lips before she pressed them together.

It took all my willpower to remain still, waiting. “I’d like that.” I let out a slow breath. “I’d like that
a lot
.”

A smile played on her lips again, and she looked up into my eyes. “You would, huh?”

“Yeah.” I squeezed her hand, taking a deep breath.

A lock of hair fell into her face as she leaned closer. I lifted my free hand and swiped it away from eyes that glittered with amusement and something more. When I tucked it behind her ear, brushing against her soft skin, she shivered.

She stared at my lips and exhaled. Then she gazed up into my eyes, stilling. She swallowed hard. “What are we doing?” she whispered.

Feeling like the green “go” light was shining, even if it was faded and flickering in her uncertain expression, I wrapped my arms around her. I dropped my gaze to those luscious lips and licked mine. “You’re about to kiss me.”

“I am?” She laughed, easy and carefree.

“You are.” I tightened my grip, but merely stared down at her, waiting.

“Right here on my driveway, next to your bike?”

I laughed softly. “Would you rather it be in your bed?”

Her eyes widened. She shook her head once.

“Your shower?” I gazed up into the night sky, pretending to ponder it. “Because I think that’s a tad fast, but I’m willing to go with it.”

A soft laugh escaped those devastating lips. “No.”

Unable to stand the suspense any longer, I turned her and walked her backward with careful steps, never loosening my grip as I stared down into her eyes. “On your kitchen island?” I grinned. “Will there be food involved?”

Her shoulders shook as she laughed harder. “I don’t know. What kind of food would we use in kissing?”

We stopped before her front steps, and I pushed gently forward. She took them slowly, one leg bending back and her body rising in the close quarters of my embrace, one at a time. I took a deep breath, making a feeble attempt at calming myself, as I considered her question.

“Do you have chocolate sauce?”

She nodded.

“Caramel?”

Another slow nod.

“Honey…?” My voice fell lower, sounding rough to my own ears, as I imagined the slow drip of honey from her peaked nipple and the kiss I would place there before I sucked it off. I would drizzle more in other places on her body as I explored with my mouth, learning her reactions.