Pieces of Me

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Pieces of Me Page 18

by Jacquie Underdown


  I stopped and caught my breath. Caught my composure. She felt so good, warm and gripping. I was ready to lose it already. Hannah looked up into my eyes, as I slid out and filled her again.

  ‘Oh, you were made for me,’ she breathed, igniting a deep burning inside me.

  I thrust again. ‘Yeah, I am.’ My voice was strained. Every muscle flexed. She was so luscious, I was about to lose my mind.

  The room filled with the scent of sex. I drove deep, hard, yet carefully. Kissed her mouth, neck, caressed her breasts and squeezed at her nipples. Her body writhed under my weight; her hands roamed over my body and mine over hers. With every plunge the waves built and quickened, my pulse galloped in my heaving chest. I wanted this moment to last forever, yet I couldn’t stop the desire to be taken over the brink.

  Her breaths deepened in my ear, she gripped my shoulders, levering her body up to meet me as I crashed down on her, my cock into her.

  ‘Oh … Bear … you are.’ She arched, her head rolled back and she gasped, breaths wild and frantic.

  She tightened around my dick. I tensed as pleasure bit me deep and I exploded into her. I jerked as I came and moaned her name to the air. ‘Hannah.’

  Hannah was limp beneath me, her breathing ragged in my ear.

  ‘Beautiful, beautiful, Hannah,’ I sighed.

  She enclosed me in her arms, holding me close and stroking a hand across my back with her fingertips until I had the strength to roll onto the bed beside her. Hannah nestled into my shoulder and traced languid circles across my abdomen. This felt too good, her naked breasts spilling against my side, her wetness still covering my cock and thighs, her warmth consuming me.

  I could never have imagined how right this would feel. How much I needed this in my life. Not just the sex, though that in itself was fucking mind-blowing, but the companionship. The more. I said no strings attached. I expected for this to be physical. I could handle that. But I didn’t expect to get more, to feel more.

  Had I ventured beyond the point of no return tonight?

  I urged Hannah out of bed at seven so we could head to the beach for an early morning surf. It was that, or I was never going to be able to drag myself out of bed. Not when she was in it. After an hour or so navigating the waves, we headed up to the café and had omelettes and strong coffee for breakfast. There was no awkwardness about last night and only a few shy glances. That’s how it was with Hannah—easy.

  I checked my mobile for the tenth time since we arrived at the café.

  ‘Worried about Becca?’

  I smiled. ‘That obvious, ha?’

  She held her thumb and forefinger about a millimetre apart. ‘A teeny, tiny bit.’

  ‘I asked her to call me. But I also told her to get some sleep. So I don’t want to ring in case she’s having a sleep-in.’

  ‘I’m sure she’s fine and will call when she’s ready.’

  I nodded and put the mobile back in my pocket. ‘Yeah. You’re right. No use worrying.’

  Hannah arched a brow as she looked at me, her finger drawing a line around her coffee cup. ‘So you haven’t given any more thought to Johnno’s offer?’

  I shrugged. ‘I’ve thought about it, sure. Found it hard not to. I flip flop from angry to flattered, depending on how I’m feeling. But either way, my answer is the same.’

  She nodded. ‘That’s fair enough. I understand why you feel so strongly about getting out of here. You want to taste a little freedom. You’ve earned it. Looking after Rebecca, having to work as well as study, it must have zapped a lot of life.’

  ‘Yes. It has. But …’ I turned to look out at the ocean and I grinned. ‘I’ve also had some pretty good times living here too. Made some great friends. Me and Becca …’ My throat felt achy and my voice wavered. What a sook, but sometimes I’d think along a certain path and the emotion would be too much. As though there was a pool of it sitting just under my skin and if I stirred it a little, it all came gushing to the surface.

  Hannah frowned. ‘It’s difficult merging the good with the bad.’

  ‘Yes. And sometimes the bad is all I see. Everywhere. But, lately, the happier times have been weighing in.’ And sometimes the happier times were even harder to deal with. I couldn’t understand why.

  A tightness in my chest and heaviness in my skull intruded. Right then, I knew why. Remembering the happiness this place gave me was making it more difficult to leave. While the bad memories floated around like toxic shadows, I didn’t have any doubts. Lately, I was having plenty of doubts. Enjoying Hannah’s friendship was adding to that.

  ‘I get it. It can be dangerous,’ she said. ‘Particularly for someone who was in my situation. When there were good times, I wondered why the hell I ever thought I should leave Allister. And then …’ She stopped and smiled bashfully. ‘Soon enough I’d realise why leaving was the better option.’

  ‘And you did it all on your own? Organised the removalists, everything without support.’

  She nodded.

  ‘What about your parents? Did they know about Allister?’

  She shook her head. ‘Dad’s lived with his new family in Perth since I was three. Apart from birthdays and Christmas, we don’t speak. I don’t really know him. Mum … she struggles with anxiety. She wouldn’t have coped if she knew.’

  ‘Friends?’

  Hannah sighed. ‘I never told a single person. I was—’ she tried to smile, but it was sad and tight-lipped, ‘—ashamed of myself.’

  Anger brewed inside me. Hannah felt ashamed because she had a gutless, weak boyfriend emotionally and physically abusing her. Allister was the one that should be ashamed. But that’s how it worked most of the time. She’d walk into a shop with a black eye and people would stare at her and judge her for not leaving him. I’d heard the whispers about my mother.

  ‘What about the house, Han? When Jocey left it for you.’

  She shrugged. ‘Mum never expected she’d be left anything. They hadn’t spoken for ten years when Gran passed away. She didn’t even mention it. But, I guess, she doesn’t really mention anything.’

  My brow furrowed. I was sensing that Han’s mother may be mentally ill.

  ‘Well I’m glad you found the courage to find your way here.’

  She smiled. ‘Me too.’

  Silence intervened until Hannah looked up from her plate. She lifted a shoulder and turned her cheek towards it, bashful. ‘Did we do the right thing last night, Bear?’

  I thought how she felt in my arms, the heat of her body beneath me. ‘It was right for me.’

  She blushed as she managed a smile and a glance from under her lashes. ‘For me too.’

  Chapter 37

  Hannah

  Bear drove me home and helped me untie Pinkie from his tray. He smiled, his dimples deep, as we stood across from each other, my board under my arm. I didn’t know what to do. I had never had a one-night stand. I didn’t know the next-day etiquette. If there was such a thing.

  I couldn’t tell Bear how he had shattered any preconceived notion of how great sex could be. How I never had a man touch me the way he did last night. How I’d never orgasmed with such intensity that I wanted to scream his name to the room, but had to bite down on the inside of my cheek to stop myself.

  I ran the tip of my tongue over the sensitive area of my cheek. A memory of how good it could get—had been. Had it been so bad with Allister? Or was it simply mind-blowing with Bear?

  Like he did last night, Bear took control. He stepped closer and leant into me until his lips brushed my cheek. He lingered at my ear, his breath warm and tickly. ‘I’ll see you Monday.’

  I fought for air as my body adjusted to him being this close again, with all the memories of last night firing afresh. I pressed my cheek to his, wanting to feel his stubble, his warmth. ‘Yeah. See you,’ I said as his lips met mine, soft and so sensual, then they were gone and I was left mentally clawing for him.

  Bear breathed in deeply, gave me a wave and headed back to his ca
r. I made my way up the stairs. He gave two quick beeps as he drove away down the road.

  As much as I hoped it wouldn’t happen, after last night, Bear was now imprinted on every cell in my body. I was going to be tormented as I sought to undo his grasp on me. But, if given the choice, I’d do it again, and again, and again.

  I leant Pinkie against the wall just inside the door, then jogged up to my office. From the cupboard I snatched my bucket list, found a Sharpie and put a big, black check next to item number fifteen—Have a one-night stand.

  I stared at my list, at all the progress I’d made. My little permissions were working. For someone else, yes they would look ridiculous. My items would appear trivial and commonplace. But for me, each of them were giant leaps. A deep enormous chasm existed between before and after, and every time I jumped from one side to the next, I risked falling into its cavernous mouth.

  A month ago, the thought of even touching a man, or allowing myself to open up and trust a man, was too much. But now …

  My stomach clenched as a dark thought floated through my mind. It won’t stay sunny forever. I swallowed hard. While I was coping, life was good. But if storm clouds gathered, I wasn’t sure how I’d manage. Would my footing slip, my grip falter, and I fall into the abyss it’s taken so long to claw out from?

  I shook away those thoughts. They didn’t help.

  I grabbed Gran’s diary from the shelf and carried it out into the lounge. I hadn’t been able to read much past the point where I learned that Pop had committed suicide. But I was now onto writing the most important part in my book, where Gran healed, grew, and fell in love. I wanted to read about her history and how her bucket list transformed her, as much as I felt my own was.

  Midnight, and I had been flush with a myriad of emotion until I thought it would spill over. All people needed to know about Gran’s life—about her amazing courage and spirit. This book needed to be published and read by anyone who had ever stopped living their own lives because their suffering was all-consuming or their duties got in the way.

  I opened my laptop and began typing an email to the acquiring editor at Penright Press. I gave her a synopsis of my story and attached the opening chapters for what I had already written. Spontaneous and stupid. But sometimes one needed to act without the mind interfering. Go on instinct. I tapped out such sentences as, ‘Think Eat, Pray, Love meets the Alchemist’. I was reaching way too high, but I didn’t care. I knew acquiring editors hated unsolicited, unfinished submissions, but I clicked ‘send’ anyway. I fell back in my chair and released a long breath. I had no idea what would be made of that.

  Bear’s knocking woke me. I looked at my mobile phone—6.53 am. I had slept through my alarm. Poor Penny would be fretting, wondering why she hadn’t yet had her morning walk. Two days in a row.

  I rolled out of bed, rubbing the corners of my mouth and eyes, in case there were embarrassing remnants of sleep. I opened the front door, still dressed in my flimsy night singlet and short shorts.

  Bear smiled wide and I wanted to jump him right there in the doorway. What a face to see first thing. I tugged fingers through my hair, aware of how I must look. Then noticed his boots. Sexy Boots. I should have made him wear those on Saturday night. Though nothing worked just as well.

  I smiled wryly.

  ‘Did I get you out of bed?’

  I nodded as I gestured he come in. ‘I was reading Gran’s diary all night. I couldn’t put it down. Then I stupidly queried the submissions editor at my work.’

  He arched his brows. ‘Why’s that stupid?’

  ‘They like things to come through an agent. And they insist it be finished.’

  ‘You work there. Surely you bypass all those rules.’

  I grinned. ‘I’ll soon find out. How about you go and get started? I’m going to duck in and have a shower in my gorgeous new bathroom.’

  ‘It did come up alright, didn’t it?’

  ‘I love it.’

  As I stood under the stream of hot water, I thought about Bear being in the house and all that separated him from my nakedness was a thin wall. Blood gushed. I was steaming and it wasn’t from the water. Each physical manifestation of my desire seemed to scream for me to go out there, grab him, and haul his arse in here with me. But I knew I wouldn’t.

  I may have slept with him. And I may have agreed to do that. But, I’m not sure if it was left up to me to take control of the situation, to make the moves, to ensure things progressed, if I would have ventured past kissing him in the foyer of his house.

  Bear’s willingness to lead me, to control what was happening between us, and command mine and his own pleasure, was what pulled me over the chasm. He took my hands and carried me over it, making sure I didn’t even look down, let alone fall.

  That thought scared me, because it indicated that perhaps I hadn’t progressed as far as I assumed. And it terrified me, because what if he were to let me go? And worse, what did that mean for me when he left?

  Chapter 38

  Bear

  ‘I slept with her.’

  Ryan’s eyes narrowed as we sat on our boards out in the ocean. The deep ripples rocked me. The sea air wisped against my wet flesh.

  ‘Who?’ he asked.

  ‘Hannah.’

  A grin spread across his face. ‘Hellz yeah. I knew you had it in you.’

  I shook my head. ‘It wasn’t like that. I mean, it was, it was fucking amazing, but it wasn’t like that.’

  Ryan arched his brows and smiled. ‘Mate, I don’t even know what the hell you’re talking about.’

  ‘It wasn’t just a one-night stand. It was supposed to be, but it doesn’t feel like that.’

  He shrugged. ‘So, sleep with her again.’

  ‘It’s not that simple.’

  ‘Only because you’re complicating it. If you want to fuck her and she wants to fuck you right back, then go for it.’

  I grimaced. ‘Do you have to say fuck?’

  ‘Fine. Make love. Have sex. Do the deed. Whatever. We can get into semantics here, or you can just stop listening to that crazy inner-monologue of yours and go for it with Hannah. Hell, you’re going to be an old man one day, married, and will look back at right now and regret not fucking her. Again.’

  ‘Don’t say fuck.’

  ‘Whatever way you say it.’

  ‘But—’

  He groaned as he ran a hand through his blond hair. ‘I backed away, Bear. I stepped aside so you could pursue whatever the hell this is between you and Hannah. Don’t make me regret my decision.’

  I grinned. ‘She wouldn’t have wanted you anyway.’

  ‘Hey, you doubting my charms?’ He laughed and pointed to his mouth. ‘You doubting this smile could turn heads?’

  ‘Completely doubting you.’

  He looked over his shoulder at the barely-there swell and groaned. ‘Fuck this shit. It’s as flat as a supermodel’s chest. Let go get a beer.’

  We sat on the deck in the fading sunlight with a beer each. Ryan, without looking at me, instead gazing out at the blue horizon, said, ‘So are you going to give me details?’

  I took a swallow of my beer. ‘Of what?’

  ‘Hannah.’

  I shook my head. That was nobody’s business but mine and Hannah’s. ‘Go get your own details if you want some.’

  He rubbed his thumb along the stem of the beer bottle and grimaced. ‘You don’t think I’m trying? One big problem in this town—limited population. Particularly in the potential-girlfriend category. Everyone’s taken or not keen, or not my type.’

  ‘Come on. You’re a male nurse working in a big hospital with plenty of female nurses. You’d have it made.’

  He grinned. ‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? No such fucking luck.’

  I took another swallow of my beer and bumped his shoulder with mine. ‘I’m kinda sensing something else.’

  He arched a brow. ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘I don’t think you were so gracious in st
epping out the way where Hannah was concerned solely for my benefit.’ He stilled, waiting. ‘I’m thinking you did it more for Nat.’

  He levelled his gaze on me, his features tense. ‘What gives you that idea?’

  I shrugged. ‘A hunch. I mean, she’s smoking hot. Funny. Heaps of fun. Why not?’

  He exhaled a long, frustrated breath. ‘Graeme. That’s why. He’d kick my arse if he knew I was sweet on his sister.’

  ‘Fuck Graeme. He’s a dickhead. You’d be good for Nat. Hell, she’d be good for you. But you’d want to be quick.’

  He snapped his gaze away from the ocean and looked at me. ‘Why?’

  ‘Bayden’s keen.’

  He nodded. ‘Yeah. I thought he was. So do you think Nat’s interested in him too?’

  I shook my head. ‘Nope. He’s a nice little plaything until what she really wants shows some interest.’

  He tilted his head back, swigged the remainder of his beer. ‘So Hannah, hey?’

  I nodded. ‘Yep. Hannah.’

  And that was as deep as it got or was going to get. Two or three syllables and Ryan and I understood each other. I could thank our caveman ancestors for that.

  He stood and nodded at his empty beer bottle. ‘You want another?’

  I nodded. I never drank more than one or two, but I needed a change tonight. ‘Yep. Load me up.’

  I poked my head in the passenger side of the police car.

  Bayden took one look at me swaying and burst into laughter. ‘So you two drunk pricks think you can ring me while on duty and expect I drop everything and put the town at risk to drive you home.’

  I grinned wide. ‘Yep.’

  ‘Get in.’

  I climbed in the front, while Ryan opened the back door.

  ‘Now watch your head,’ Bayden said.

  ‘Ha ha, very fucking funny, policeman,’ Ryan said as he crawled onto the back seat and shut the door.

 

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