by Codi Gary
“Blake? You sound as if you’re hyperventilating over there.”
“No, I’m fine.”
But he wasn’t. He was crazy. He was fucking losing his mind.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
DINNER WAS A quiet, awkward affair, and for the first time since Blake had stepped foot in Dale’s, Hannah wanted to get away from him.
She’d hated the way he’d looked when she’d told him she’d never been with anyone. Why had that sent him into a full-blown panic attack? Because he’d been trying to keep things fun and light and he thought virginity somehow made sex more complicated? She’d saved it so when she fell in love, even if it didn’t last, it meant something, instead of randomly hooking up and regretting it later.
Then he’d had to act like an idiot and made her regret even mentioning it.
“So, maybe we could do this again on Saturday?”
Hannah shrugged, too irritated with him to hide it. “Maybe, I’ll let you know.”
“Hannah, come on—”
She climbed out of the car and shut the door on whatever else he was going to say, wondering if she’d made a mistake telling Blake at all. Maybe she would be better off dating someone else. There were any number of guys who were cute, smart, and completely uncomplicated . . .
But none of those guys ever made her feel the way Blake did.
Hannah walked into the apartment and let Milo out of his cage, taking him into the front yard to relieve himself. She noticed Blake was still sitting in the parking spot and tried to ignore him.
Calling Milo back inside, she locked the door, ready for bed and the new romance she’d picked up at Walmart. Romance novels had flawed, tortured heroes, but they only drove her crazy for a page or two.
Unlike real men.
BLAKE SAT IN his car, trying to decide whether he wanted to call up the guys to meet him at Mick’s Bar or bang on Hannah’s door and try to explain himself.
How did he explain that he was a big, fat pussy who couldn’t handle the responsibility of being her first?
She’d been waiting for someone she could love. Did that mean she thought she could love him?
He wasn’t there yet and didn’t know if he could ever be in love again, but he cared about her. He needed her.
Blake climbed out of his car and jogged up to Hannah’s door, knocking loudly. Once he explained why he’d freaked out, everything would be back to normal.
It flew open, and both Hannah and Milo stared out at him.
“Blake, what—”
Before he even knew what he was doing, he’d cut her off with his mouth, backing her into her apartment and slamming the door behind him. He tried to tell himself to slow down, to seduce her slowly and listen to that little sigh of surrender she gave when he kissed her neck just right.
But he was overwhelmed with the need to prove he wasn’t scared without actually saying the words. That what they had between them was real and that he hadn’t meant to freak out, that he’d be happy to be her first, if it ever came to that.
Blake eased the pressure of his mouth, teasing her lips as he maneuvered her back toward the bedroom. He ignored Milo nipping at his ankles as he ran his hands all over Hannah, lovingly caressing every curve beneath the sheath of her dress.
Her hands gripped his shoulders, kneading the muscles, and he almost groaned, it felt so good.
When they reached the bedroom, he lowered her onto the bed, following her down until he hovered over her. He pulled away from her lips reluctantly and tucked her hair back behind her ear, studying her beautifully flushed face with a caressing gaze.
“I know that I am a whole bucket of fucked, but I wanted to make sure we ended the night with you knowing how much I like you. How wonderful I think you are and especially”—he pressed his mouth against the shell of her ear—“how much I want you.”
“But in the car and at dinner—”
He kissed her again, cutting off her reminder. “I was an idiot. I am an idiot. And I want to make it up to you.”
He trailed his lips down the length of her neck, his fingers inching up the hem of her dress.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
Blake paused, his mouth hovering over the tops of her breasts. “I plan to make you very, very happy. But first we need to get this dress off you.”
Hannah didn’t protest as Blake helped her sit up and found the zipper on the back of her dress. Once it was over her head and on the floor, Blake’s gaze ate up every inch of her, from the pink lacy panties to the gray bra pushing her breasts up into creamy, round offerings.
“Now, I want you to feel free to tell me everything you like and anything you don’t. And if you want me to stop for any reason, I will.”
Hannah stared up at him, her eyes wide, and Blake didn’t wait for her to agree.
His hands slid over her breasts, squeezing them gently as he kissed down her stomach, his teeth lightly nipping her. When he reached her navel, his tongue dipped in, sliding out and down to the edge of her panties.
He could feel the rise and fall of her breasts in his hands, and he looked up at her from just above the scrap of lace covering her. Blake’s hands left her breasts, sliding over her ribs until they teased the sides of her panties.
“If you’re a screamer, you might want to grab that pillow.” He slowly slid the underwear down and off her feet before kissing his way back up. “Just in case you don’t want your neighbors to hear.”
He didn’t give her a chance to respond as his lips moved over the soft skin of her inner thigh and settled between her legs.
Hannah gasped and arched off the bed, panting, “Blake!”
“Remember to use the pillow.”
OH MY GOD. Oh my God. OH MY FREAKING GOD.
Hannah couldn’t speak, she was too busy moaning as Blake dragged his rough tongue up her seam in slow measure until he found her clit. Pressing his mouth around it like a vacuum, he flicked it in rapid succession, and Hannah couldn’t breathe.
It wasn’t as though she’d never had a guy use his mouth on her, but it had been a long time, and she remembered being a little bored. She’d even tried a vibrator she’d bought at a Pure Romance party a few years back, and that had felt good.
But nothing had prepared her for Blake’s mouth working her into a stiff, feverish frenzy. Sweat beaded across her skin, and her head fell back, tossing and turning on the pillow as she tried to find some relief from the sweet torture he was inflicting.
“Blake . . . please . . . ”
He sucked her nub between his lips hard, and she flew, lights exploding between her eyelids as she came in great, racking shakes. Her cries mingled with gulping breaths, and she slowly came back to herself to find Blake still there, still pressing his mouth against her softly, lovingly, and she quivered again.
In a daze, she reached out and rubbed the top of his head. “Why?”
He came up over her body, his hazel eyes on fire in the dim light.
“Because I want you to know that I’m here. That I’m in this. Even when I freak out, I want to be with you.”
Hannah stared up at him in surprise. Blake had given her an amazing orgasm, expecting nothing in return, just to prove that he cared for her?
A smile curved across her lips, and she cupped his cheek in her hand.
“You really are a hero.”
BLAKE SAT UP on the bed and kicked his shoes off while Hannah put on some flannel pajamas. He had every intension of staying with Hannah, of curling his body around hers and snuggling with her for a while. It was something he’d been thinking about, what it would be like to cuddle with someone again, and it scared the hell out of him.
But despite his fear and the tiny niggle of guilt for wanting to replace Jenny in his bed, he needed Hannah to know that he wasn’t just going to run every time he got scared.
“Do you mind if I stay with you until you fall asleep?” he asked.
Hannah looked up from straightening her clothes, and tha
t warm, welcoming smile was almost his undoing.
“You can stay the whole night if you want.”
Blake didn’t respond right away, mostly because cuddling with Hannah was one thing, but sleeping over was a step he needed to think harder about. Maybe go over with Dr. Stabler . . .
Blake almost laughed out loud. For a guy who had been so against therapy just a month ago, he sure had become dependent on it.
“Maybe another night. We’ve got plenty of time for you to get to know all my really bad sleeping habits.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
“Well, I’m a bit of a bed hog. I’ll kick you right off this queen-size bed so I can stretch out.”
Hannah laughed softly. “I snore.”
As he settled in behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, he breathed in the fruity scent. “Everybody snores, babe. It’s not a deal breaker. I just figured we can continue to take his slow. Okay?”
Hannah stroked his forearm gently. “Okay.”
The only sounds in the room were of their gentle breathing, and for a second, Blake thought she’d fallen asleep already.
“Thank you for knocking,” she whispered.
Her words made him laugh, and he kissed her hair. “Thanks for opening up.”
“Oh, come on. Like you really thought I was going to leave you standing out on the porch?”
“Hey, you were angry Hannah for a while, and I never know what to expect from her.”
She turned and tilted her head to look up at him, her gaze soft. “I like less angry Blake.”
Blake stiffened at her words, but when she reached up to cup his cheek, there was no judgement on her face. “I just mean that you used to come into Dale’s so angry some days, like there was a black cloud following you around. Even when you smiled, there was such a sadness to it. And now I know why. I’m just glad that I get to hear you laugh, that’s all I meant.”
He relaxed, her words sinking in, and he brushed her lips with his. “If I’ve changed, it’s because of you. You do things to me no one else can.”
Hannah sighed against his mouth and turned to snuggle into his chest. Even when he heard her breathing slow down after she fell asleep, he was afraid to move. Realization dawned on him that it was true. No one had ever made him feel the way Hannah did, and he found himself pulling her tighter against him.
There was no way he could lose Hannah. He wouldn’t survive it.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“YOU ARE A freaking sadist!”
Blake laughed at Hannah’s breathless shout as she jogged next to him, sweat rolling down her temples. In the last week, slow had pretty much been thrown out the window. Now that they were officially together and seeing each other every day, Blake’s opinion on sleepovers had adjusted. Especially when things got pretty heated on the front porch of his or her place and they found themselves doing some heavy making out on the couch and migrating to the bedroom. They still hadn’t had sex, although the foreplay was fantastic. It had been a week of touching, tasting, and pretty much driving each other crazy, so Blake had suggested that on this beautiful Sunday morning in March, Hannah go jogging with him to help blow off some of the sexual frustration.
At first, she’d been against it, citing that she hadn’t run in a long time and she couldn’t keep up, but he’d promised to stick with her, which he’d been doing, like any good boyfriend would.
Boyfriend. It was definitely going to take some getting used to, but things had been really good between them. No more confusion, just the two of them back to discovering new things about each other.
“You just need to get your muscles used to it, and it won’t be so hard.”
“Lies. You just want me to go with you again so you can mock my pain.”
“Come on, you’re doing great, and we’re almost to the end of the trail.”
She gave him the stare of death, and he slowed down and squatted in front of her. “Want me to give you a lift back to the car?”
“Yes.”
“Then hop on, ’cause I don’t have all day.”
He heard her groan loudly before she ran past him, her pink workout shirt dark with sweat. When he caught up to her, he heard her chanting something and he bent closer to hear, but it was too soft to make out. “What’s that?”
“I am saying, ‘I hate you. I hate you.’ ”
“That’s not nice. I offered to carry you.”
“It was a test to see if I would crack under pressure, but you will not break me, sir!” She sped up, her feet flying, and never one to turn down a challenge, Blake caught up, teasing her by keeping pace for a second or two.
Then he took off, loving the rush of the wind in his face.
A sharp cry behind him made his heart and feet skid to a stop. When he turned, Hannah was on the ground, holding her leg with pain-filled sobs.
Blake was by her side in seconds. “Fuck, Hannah, what happened?”
She didn’t open her eyes, but he could see the tear tracks on her cheeks. Blake reached for her leg to see what had happened, and she yelled, “Don’t touch it!”
“Is it your leg or your ankle?”
“Ankle,” she choked. “It turned, and I heard a snap before I went crashing into the pavement.”
Blake grimaced and moved her hands away. Her ankle sock was already stretching around the swelling, and as he started to roll it down gently, she whimpered.
“It’s okay, I’ll take you back to the car, and we’ll go have it looked at.” He lifted her into his arms and started walking down the trail to where he’d parked the car. Several moms pushing strollers slowed, watching them curiously. Hannah continued to sniffle against his chest, every once in a while releasing a moan when he had to readjust her and her ankle got jostled.
They made it back to the car, and Blake helped her in. “Is there somewhere specific we need to go?”
She shook her head, her skin a pale green shade that reminded him of a dead fish. “Any urgent care.”
He shut the door and got into the driver’s side. If the foot was broken, she might have to have surgery on it, but if it was a sprain, she’d just be in pain for several weeks and moving around in one of those plastic boots.
Blake searched for the closest hospital on his smartphone and set it up to give him turn-by-turn directions. He tried to drive gently, but when he took a turn too fast, he heard Hannah suck in a painful breath.
“Sorry, we’re almost there. Still hate me?”
Blake saw her shake her head out of the corner of his eye, a small smile on her lips. “Not at the moment. I can’t hate beyond the pain.”
Blake reached across with one hand and took hers in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“Not your fault. I wanted to go. I just got these weak ankles that turn without any warning.”
“This has happened before? I wish you had told me—”
“Not like this, but I’ve rolled them just by wearing heels. I should have wrapped them for extra support, but I didn’t think about it.” She squeezed his hand back. “I appreciate all the care and concern, though.”
“Hey, I don’t like how pale you are. I might need to take extra good care of you.”
“I like the sound of that.”
HANNAH SAT IN the hospital bed with her foot elevated on a pillow, waiting for the ER doctor to come back. Blake had taken her to the hospital just in case it was broken, and she had been in so much pain, she hadn’t argued. But when they’d put an IV in her arm, she’d told them that she didn’t like strong pain meds, mostly because she knew her birth mom had been an addict, and she had always thought why risk it?
They hadn’t listened to her, though, because she was definitely a little loopy. The room started spinning, and she closed her eyes against the swoony sensation.
“What did you give me?” she slurred.
“Just something for the pain. The doctor will be in after he looks at the X-rays.”
“Thank
you.” Blake’s deep voice sounded different under the crashing waves in her ears.
When she heard the door close, she turned toward where she thought Blake was and spoke in a loud stage whisper. “I think that nurse is trying to get me high.”
“Baby, I think she already did.”
Blake’s chuckle wrapped around her like a soft blanket. “I like it when you laugh. You don’t do it nearly often enough.”
He paused, and while she wanted to open her eyes and see the look on his face, she couldn’t pry her lids apart.
“I’ve laughed more with you than I have the last two years,” he said softly.
He sounds so sad.
She didn’t want sad Blake. She wanted happy, laughing Blake.
“Your laugh makes me all warm inside, like cinnamon rolls baking in the oven.”
“How do you know how cinnamon rolls feel?” At least the smile was back in his voice.
“I can imagine it.”
A knock on the door interrupted the absurd conversation, and another male voice called, “Hello? Hi, Hannah, I’m Dr. Gould.”
Hannah turned her head lazily toward him but still couldn’t open her eyes. “Give it to me straight, Doc . . . Is my ankle busted?”
“No, but it is sprained. I’m going to suggest you stay off it as much as possible for a week and make sure you ice and elevate it. Eight hundred milligrams of ibuprofen and you should be good as new.”
Hannah tried to sit up and fell back almost immediately, her stomach turning. “Well that sucks.”
“I’ll even get you a handy-dandy note to give your employers that says exactly that, if you need it. Do you have someone who can help you out for a few days?”
Before she opened her mouth to say her parents, she heard Blake’s firm yes, and this time, her eyes did pop open. Her vision was blurry, but she squinted at Blake, trying to bring him into focus.
“You don’t have to. I can call my mom or Nicki—”
“I can help you out if I want to, and there’s nothing you can say to stop me.”
Hannah had no desire to stop him. In fact, the only thing she wanted was to go to sleep.