by Cali MacKay
His heart pounded against his ribs as he tried to snuff out the hope that wanted to spark there, knowing it’d be too dangerous to let it come to life. He was already heading down a precarious road that could lead to disaster, and yet he was helpless to follow any path but the one he was on, knowing he’d denied his feelings for Hannah for far too long. “Do you want me to stay?”
When she nodded, he steeled himself and slipped in by her side, letting her rest her head against his shoulder, the feel of her in his arms allowing a quiet peace to settle over him, as if he’d finally found a missing part of himself. And so he held her to him as she softly wept in his arms, until sleep finally took them into its darkness, their limbs tangled as one.
***
Jake awoke with Hannah still asleep in his arms, his heart immediately thundering away as the length of her body rested against his, his cock springing to life and going hard. She was so beautiful with her red hair and freckles, and her lush curves. It was all he could do not to wake her by pressing his lips to hers, by nestling himself between her legs and covering every inch of her in kisses.
He could remember the taste of her skin—the taste of her—could remember the sounds she’d make when he was claiming her as his, when he was pushing her from one orgasm to the next, and the way her body would quiver in his arms as she came. And he desperately wanted all those things once more.
He’d lived without her for years, and though this might not be the ideal time to start a relationship, all he could do was try his best to patiently wait. Messing with her head would do neither of them any good, and pursuing her now would do just that, causing chaos and confusion. She already had enough to deal with, especially when Will was still missing and she was upset and vulnerable.
Yet with her still fast asleep in his arms, he couldn’t help but take in the moment: the way her curves felt pressed against his body, the way her red hair tumbled over her shoulders—and how gorgeous, how peaceful she looked in her slumber. How right she looked in his arms, where she belonged…
With one last look to sustain him, he carefully eased her out of his arms so as not to wake her, and then padded down the stairs to the kitchen. Though he’d been to the cute cottage plenty of times, it looked different now that it was just Hannah’s. She’d painted things a cheery butter yellow with a crisp white on the trim, and the space fit Hannah perfectly, with its mix of old details and modern touches, her pottery and artwork tucked into corners throughout the home. Though Hannah paid the bills doing graphic design work, her pottery and her drawings were what had always fascinated him.
Poking around in her fridge and cabinets, Jake pulled out the ingredients he’d need to put something together for breakfast. He preheated the oven and peeled half a dozen apples, mixing them in with a loaf of day-old bread he’d cubed, and a good dose of cinnamon and brown sugar. He made a quick vanilla custard, poured the mixture over the bread, and set it in the oven to bake before getting a pot of coffee going.
With breakfast underway, he grabbed his bag out of his car, dropped it off in the guest room he’d always used when visiting and hopped into the shower in the main bathroom. Realistically, his six-four frame was far too tall for Hannah’s shower setup, but the water was steaming hot and that was exactly what he needed if he had any hope of waking up.
Running a soapy hand over his body, he propped his arms out on the cold tile wall so he could get his head under the spray, letting the water pour over him as his mind wandered to Will—and Hannah.
Always Hannah…
Fuck…the mere thought of her had him wrapping his hand around his cock and slipping his grip down over his hard length with a grunt of need and desperation.
As one of the top chefs in New England and with more money than he knew what to do with, he’d been with his share of women. And yet none of them came close to having the sort of effect on him that Hannah did. Not by a mile, even if it’d been eight years since he’d last been with her, eight years since he’d had her naked body in his arms, responding to his every touch as he drew forth one orgasm after the next from her eager body.
He could remember every little detail as if she were standing before him naked…long red hair cascading over her shoulders, perfectly pert breasts with dark rose areolas, freckles dancing over her porcelain skin, and her plump curves ripe for the taking.
He stroked himself with a soapy hand, squeezing as he got to the head of his cock and slipping his thumb over the tip, before working back down his shaft with a groan and repeating it all over again. There was no way he should be jerking off in Hannah’s shower while she lay sleeping in the other room after bawling her eyes out over Will. And yet there he was, slowly working his cock through his tight grip as his hips thrust forward while his imagination had Hannah on her knees in front of him, sucking him off.
He could picture it all too well…her lush pink lips wrapped around his cock as he fucked her pretty little mouth, her hair wrapped tight around his fist, holding her where he wanted her, where he needed her.
Fuck…it was too much to bear and it was doing him in, his orgasm building at the base of his groin as his pace quickened and his grip tightened around his cock, stroking himself from his thick base to his swollen head. It was far too easy to imagine that it was Hannah who was making him come, who was swallowing his cum as he let loose with a grunt, his cock pulsing in its release as his orgasm crashed through him, her name on his lips once more—always her.
Desperately wanting Hannah, his head was spinning with thoughts of her, spinning with memories of their time together, of what could be if only she let him back into her heart. He needed to find what they once had before he’d fucked it up by walking away—all because he thought she deserved so much more than he could give her, because he was too worried that his berating father was right about how he’d never amount to anything, and because he was too scared to think that he might someday turn into a bastard just like his father.
And yet, Hannah had always meant everything to him. His one true love. But he’d been too young, too stupid and naïve to realize that he was the only one in control of his fate—not his asshole father. Leaving Hannah had been the biggest mistake of his life—and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t do everything in his power to get her back.
Jake now knew he could make her happy and he could give her everything she could ever want—if only he could convince her that they needed to be more than just friends. And since he’d just eased a bit of the sexual tension that had been plaguing him since he first saw her last night, he might somehow manage to keep himself from pinning her against a wall and ravaging her. He hoped. Because truth be told, he was having a hard time reining in his need for her, despite the horrible circumstances.
He finished showering and then, with a towel wrapped around his waist, he stepped out into the hall, turning towards the guest room, when he ran into Hannah. “Hey, I hope you don’t mind. I grabbed a shower.”
She shook her head, her eyes still red and heavy with sleep and last night’s tears. “You know to make yourself at home. I’m just…I’m just glad you’re still here, Jake.”
The images of her naked and kneeling before him as she sucked him off were still fresh in his mind, making him feel like such a fucking ass. It’s not that he wasn’t worried about Will—he was—and yet it still hadn’t been enough to keep him from jerking off to images of Hannah. “There’s coffee made, and the bread pudding should be nearly done baking. Let me get changed, and then once we grab a bite to eat, we can head to the police station. With luck they’ll have found Will or at the very least have more information on what happened or where Will might be.”
“I honestly don’t know how I’d deal with all this if you weren’t here.” Her shoulders slumped, and though he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and ease her pain, he couldn’t in his state of undress. He just didn’t trust himself not to do something stupid.
“I promise, Hannah. We’ll find him.” He gave he
r hand a squeeze, though he doubted it did much to comfort her. “Grab something to eat, and I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Thanks, Jake. For everything.” And then she slipped into his arms and hugged him, her cheek pressed to his naked chest as he held her close, sending his pulse rocketing.
And fuck…he was such a goner. It’d be a goddamned miracle if he didn’t screw this up by pushing for too much, too soon. Because after holding back for what felt like an eternity, it seemed as though he couldn’t wait a second more.
Chapter Three
Hannah forced herself to eat, knowing that Jake had gone to the trouble to make breakfast for her. And it was absolutely amazing, with hints of cinnamon and nutmeg that mingled with vanilla and brown sugar that complemented the tartness of the apples. Yet, she still had no appetite, upset as she was. Her gut was still in knots, and after such a late night, her head was still swimming from the lack of sleep, leaving her feeling off-kilter.
She managed another bite, swallowing hard to get it down. “It’s really good…”
“But you’re too worried to eat.” He grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze, his grip strong and comforting. She didn’t know what the hell she would have done had he not come by to help her. At the moment, it felt like Jake was the only thing keeping her from shattering to pieces. “It’s okay, Hannah. You don’t have to eat if you’re not able to. I know this is hard on you, especially after what happened to your brother.”
She nodded, doing her best to push her worries aside. Instead, she distracted herself with Jake, unable to resist taking him in, which did little to calm her already racing heart.
As tall and muscular as he was, he’d always had such a presence the moment he walked into any room, and when it came to Jake, she had never quite managed to ignore the effect he’d always had on her. With intense brown eyes that were flecked with gold, dark stubble, and sexily mussed-up hair that looked like he’d been running his hands through it, it was hard to look away—and even harder to ignore the immediate effect he had on her woefully neglected body. Though she knew he shouldn’t make her heart race, he did, and she was loathe to admit that he’d had that effect on her, even after things were over between them.
Of course, she’d loved Will with all her heart, and she’d given her marriage her all—and yet in the end it hadn’t mattered. She’d been a wreck after Ryan’s death, and by the time she’d recovered, Will had become distant—too distant for them to find their way back to each other.
Things only got worse with time. Will’s affections grew more and more infrequent, until she was left feeling completely alone, despite being married. She’d tried everything she could think of to get him back, to rekindle whatever passion they’d once had, but he’d only continued to push her away, making one excuse after the other.
And it wasn’t just that he’d withdrawn physically. If it had been just that, she could have managed. But he’d also become emotionally unavailable, pushing her away, refusing to share his day with her, refusing to open up to her. By the end of their marriage, they barely spoke about anything but the mundane…groceries, bills, the house…and she’d felt as if she were walking on eggshells, worried she’d say the wrong thing and push him even further away. Yet, she’d still loved him, despite feeling like he’d rejected her.
But for Will to no longer want her, especially after Jake had broken things off…it left her wondering if there was something inherently wrong with her, as if she somehow wasn’t good enough.
She hated herself for the tears that stung her eyes. The last thing she needed to do was feel sorry for herself, especially when Will might be fighting for his life.
Of course, leave it to Jake to notice that she was an emotional wreck. He may have ended things between them, but in a way, they’d never lost the special connection that had always existed between them.
“Hey…” He pulled her into his strong arms and held her to him, though it only served to remind her that he, too, had walked away from her, that he’d broken her heart. And yet, she couldn’t pull away from him, her body melting into his as her tears rolled down her cheeks and his familiar scent of autumnal woods filled her head. “It’ll be okay, little red.”
His nickname for her had her burrowing deeper in his embrace, reminding her of the red capelet she used to wear in college, and a time when she’d been his—a time when life had been good and she had been happy. He’d called her little red ever since, even after she’d moved on and married Will.
He pulled away enough to cup her face in his hands and wipe his thumbs over the tears on her cheeks, his touch doing things to her that she had no right to be feeling. “Do you want to go to the police station and see if they have any more news on Will?”
He was so close. Close enough for her to feel the tickle of his breath on her skin, close enough for him to lean in and kiss her if he wanted to—which was why she should put some distance between them. Her heart was already in tatters and wouldn’t survive another blow—and yet she found herself unable to push him away.
She did her best to focus on his question, and nodded in response. “I suppose speaking to the cops is our best bet. Though I swear they can’t be bothered unless there’s a body. I’m sorry to drag you into all of this. I just didn’t know who else to call or what to do.”
He cupped her face in his hands, his gaze fierce. “I’d have been furious with you if you hadn’t called. No one should have to go through this sort of thing, let alone have to deal with it on their own, especially after all you’ve been through. I want to be here for you, Hannah. I want to be someone you can count on.”
“Jake…” He was looking at her with such an intensity, she was unable to hold his gaze. And she knew what he was implying, the connection between them—the attraction—undeniable. Needing a distraction from the nearness of him, she played with the buttons on his flannel shirt, left hanging open over his t-shirt and jeans. Except it was doing little good when she could feel his muscular body as it pressed against hers, encompassing her in his strong arms, and enticing her to forget that he’d once walked away from her. “Jake…what are we doing here?”
His hard chest rose and fell as he let out a sigh. “I know my timing sucks, but…fuck. If you think I don’t regret breaking things off between us, you’re wrong. It’s been my biggest regret—and it was a huge mistake. You’ve always meant everything to me.”
Hurt, anger, her own regrets…they all churned into a volatile poison that coursed through her veins. “What the hell am I supposed to do with that, Jake? Do you think it was easy for me to get over you and move on? Well, it fucking wasn’t.”
“And I respected that. I didn’t pursue you, even though I wanted to—even though I knew I’d made a huge mistake.” With his fingers tangled in her hair, he tipped her head back and forced her to look at him, to look into his intense, soul-bearing eyes, and listen to what he was saying. “I still love you, Hannah—and the truth is, I never stopped.”
He captured her mouth in an all-consuming kiss that had her hands knotting in his shirt as his fingers tangled in her hair, his tongue clashing with hers and reminding her of what it was like to be on the receiving end of his affections. His grip in her hair tightened, pulling her head back to rake his teeth down her neck, sending a shiver of need through her body to awaken a passion and a need that had been ignored so long it’d gone dormant.
Yet she couldn’t do this—even if she desperately wanted him.
She put her hands on his chest and pushed him away, even as her body screamed for more. “Don’t, Jake. I can’t. Not when Will’s still missing and…not when you crushed me by leaving.”
“I was young and stupid, Hannah. And I want another chance at making this work.” Still cupping her face in his hands, he brushed his thumb over her lips, sending her eyes fluttering closed as she leaned into his warm touch, a touch that held the promise of so much pleasure. “I won’t hurt you again, little red. You have my word.”
“I
can’t do this. I’m sorry. I need to focus on Will. On getting him back.” Even if Will was yet another man who’d broken her heart.
Jake nodded with a sigh. “I know, love. And I swear we’ll do all we can to find him. But this is far from over. I was stupid enough to walk away from you once, but I won’t be doing it again. I love you, Hannah. I always have. And I’m not letting you go.”
“Not letting me go? I was never the one to go, Jake. You—” She poked his chest. “You were the one who left.”
“And for that, you don’t know how sorry I am.”
***
Jake insisted on driving, and in the mood she was in, she was happy to let him. That kiss had torn open all her wounds and heartache—and yet it’d also made her feel more alive than she had in years. Stupid hormones. It didn’t help that she’d been single for over six months, and even before that, Will hadn’t touched her in well over a year, not to mention any sex prior to even that had been a scarce occurrence.
Jake gave her hand a squeeze, ignoring the scolding glare she tossed him—not that her traitorous body was in any rush to escape the warm comfort of his touch. “Hopefully the cops have some new information. And while we’re there, we can find out when they might allow you back into Will’s place. There might be something there the cops missed—something they wouldn’t know about or something that might look odd to you that they didn’t pick up on.”
It was a good idea. She knew that. But the thought of seeing all that blood again had her chest tightening. “I know you’re right, but having to go back there…I just don’t know if I can bear it, Jake. I’ll go speak with the cops, but I can’t go to Will’s house.”
“Then we’ll start with the cops and hopefully they’ll have answers for us.”
***
They didn’t.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Tennant. The blood is his. We know that much. But there’s no evidence of anyone else’s blood, and nothing pointing to a forced entry.” Detective Lambert gave her a look of pity, like she was worrying over a man who wanted to disappear, who’d staged an escape from a life he no longer wanted—a man who’d likely been lying straight to her face. “We don’t know that he didn’t do this to himself. Maybe he got drunk and hurt himself. He could be sleeping it off somewhere, and when he finally comes to, he’ll do so with a killer headache.”