Hannah & the Dom Next Door

by BJ Wane

  New, intense, warm, pulsing sensations she had absolutely no idea what to do about.

  “Hannah, sweetheart, do you need help with the car again?” It took every ounce of Mitch’s considerable control not to grin openly at Hannah’s shocked, aroused face. If he didn’t know she had been married, he would assume she was a damn virgin from the nervous, but interested look on her face. In the process of jumping in the shower before meeting the McGilley’s for their Sunday night poker game, he didn’t bother to slip on the tee shirt he just removed before answering the door. Now he was glad he hadn’t because the look on her face was priceless. “Hannah?”

  “What? Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, it’s just that I wasn’t expecting…I mean I’ve never…Oh…here!” Hannah thrust the basket at him and turned to make a hasty exit, but his hand latched onto her arm, stopping her before she could take a step.

  “This smells wonderful. What did you bring me, and why?” he asked her gently, not wanting her to leave just yet. At odds with how he felt before going next door earlier, he spent the hours since reluctantly thinking about her, or, more precise, thinking about how to get her out of those God awful clothes. In between imagining her sprawled on his bed or tied belly down on a padded bench, he kept telling himself it wasn’t going to happen, no way, no how. Of course, his little head, as usual, refused to heed his big head, making for a long afternoon fighting the urge to go back over and check on her. Had he known she was going to surprise him this way, he would’ve headed out sooner. Or not.

  “It’s just a spaghetti pie casserole and some cookies, to, you know, thank you for your help and for introducing yourself. I’m sorry if I bothered you. I’ll just go…”

  “And leave me to eat alone?” Maintaining his light grip on her arm, he ushered her inside and kicked the door shut behind her. “I was planning on grabbing a burger on my way to see some friends, but this is much better.” Seeing the deer caught in headlights look on her face, he released her and took a step back. “Will you stay and join me?”

  She shouldn’t, she really shouldn’t, especially considering how her body was coming alive again in a way that had her questioning her sanity and her strict moral beliefs. Damn it, she had been married and enjoyed sex for over ten years, why did she feel so…needy as well as lacking around him, like what she experienced with Caleb in their marriage bed had only been the tip of the iceberg and she had no clue what kind of devastating effects were possible. She might be embarrassed at her vulnerability, but she wasn’t a coward. “What about meeting your friends?”

  “They’ll understand if I’m late.”

  “Then okay, if you’re sure you want me to.”

  “I want you to. Come on into the kitchen.”

  Hannah reluctantly stepped into his foyer, noted the new tile floor, the refurbished look of the ornate wooden handrail curving up the wide staircase and that the small parlor on the right had been converted into an office before she followed Mitch to the left. Expecting the large, formal living room she remembered from her few visits with the previous owners, she was stunned to step into the largest, brightest space she has ever seen. Like her aunt’s house, walls had been removed, a new bay window afforded her a wide view of the front and a wall of windows spanning the back of the room made it easy to see his pool and the five-acre lake beyond. White crown molding stood out starkly against taupe walls and black leather furniture was grouped in a semi-circle facing the wood and gas burning fireplace above which boasted the largest television she has ever seen. The great room had a masculine feel and look that suited him, but as she followed Mitch across the hard wood floors, it was the kitchen she wanted to drool over. Antique white cabinets and black marble countertops as well as appliances she has never seen before made her want to spend hours in that space just playing and exploring. Most women, she knew, thought of spending time in the kitchen as necessary work. She found cooking, even the simple, home cooked meals of her people, relaxing and pleasurable.

  And then it dawned on her. The sign on his truck, the changes to both houses, had to mean he did all this himself. “You?”

  “Me, and my crew. I still have work upstairs to do. This place is a 1939 Colonial Revival and is a challenge to update while preserving as much of its original structure as possible. Mary’s house was even harder as it still had the original electric and plumbing. There were many nights her and Patty stayed over here to avoid the noise, chaos and dust.”

  “Aunt Mary doesn’t like clutter, so I can’t imagine her staying through that extensive of a renovation. I love both of the kitchens. Mine at home was a fraction of this size and held none of these conveniences,” she admitted, waving her arm. “Makes me wonder what took me so long to take Aunt Mary up on her offer to come stay with her after my husband died.”

  Mitch liked how she still addressed Mary as ‘Aunt’, liked that her moral character went so far as to afford her elders a title even though she was an adult. Unfortunately, it was that moral fiber that was going to keep him out of her bed. Setting the basket on the counter, he said, “Take a seat,” before turning to get plates. Instead of giving her platitudes, he asked, “How long have you been widowed?”

  Pulling out a backless stool at the island, she sat and replied, “Two and a half years. Caleb was killed when his tractor hit a rut and tipped. He died immediately.” Hannah was grateful he hadn’t suffered, but at the time, that did little to ease her grief. Right now, she was having a difficult time following the conversation, let alone think about Caleb. Her attention, and her eyes, couldn’t seem to stray from his bare chest. And why did his unsnapped jeans keep drawing her eyes down? He was zipped, his privates completely covered, so she didn’t understand why that small gap in his waistband made her mouth so dry. Of course, she would have to be blind, both earlier and now, not to notice how tight his jeans were, especially in the front, leaving her in no doubt that his penis was as large as the rest of him. Oh God, she was now thinking about his private parts, and that just wouldn’t do. Heat crept up her face, her embarrassment making her as warm as her thoughts. Her eyes followed him as he moved around the counter and set plates in front of their seats, her face now level with that bare, tight abdomen and it was all she could do to keep from reaching up and touching him just to see if he was as hard as he looked.

  Those amazing eyes had held sorrow, but no real grief, sorrow that was quickly replaced with heat when Mitch set the plates down. When she reared back, her face red as a beet, he took pity on her archaic sensibilities and stepped back. “Why don’t you dish us out some of that casserole while I run up and get my shirt?” He didn’t know whether to be amused or insulted by the relief that spread across her face and the infinitesimal relaxing of her shoulders.

  “A shirt, yes, that would be good, thank you,” Hannah stuttered out before turning her attention to removing the food. She felt like an idiot, an inexperienced moron for her adolescent reaction, but the fact was she was inexperienced, and as it stood now, would remain woefully so for some time to come.

  Once Mitch returned, his chest covered, Hannah relaxed and enjoyed talking with him over dinner, listening to him tell her how his interest in restoring old homes and buildings had been piqued from fixing all the problems that kept cropping up in the old home he and a friend rented during college. When their landlord saw how good a job he did fixing the outdated plumbing and upgrading the wiring, he lowered their rent and paid for supplies. In turn, Hannah didn’t mind explaining the differences in being raised Beachy Amish as opposed to Old Order Amish and liked how he listened attentively, as if he was really interested in learning about a lifestyle most people found boring or incomprehensible.

  Mitch pushed his empty plate back and grabbed a cookie, asking, “So, your community had electricity in their homes, phones and drove cars but Caleb’s community didn’t? Nowadays, kids meet in school, high school or college, after that it’s either in clubs or on the internet. How’d you meet then? “

  “Du
ring rumspringa, a time when teens from different communities socialized, mostly for the purpose of courtship. I was fifteen when my grandparents let me attend for the first time. Caleb was seventeen and it was his third year. We hit it off right away and were inseparable all summer.” Hannah bit into a cookie thinking of that long ago summer and how young they both had been.

  Voicing her thoughts, Mitch remarked, “That’s young. You must have loved him very much to give up the few conveniences you were used to for his stricter beliefs.”

  There was no disbelief or derision in his tone or look. It was rare to find someone who wanted to understand her way of life, and the choices she made at such a young age, instead of telling her she had been an idiot to give up so much for a man, especially as a teenager.

  “I did, and after spending a year here with Aunt Mary, at Caleb’s insistence, it was even harder to go back. But I’ve never regretted my decision, never wished I’d made a different choice or waited. I knew he was my one and only the first time we met, and he said he felt the same.” She waited for him to sneer at her mushy confession, to tell her she had been too young to know what, or who she wanted to spend her life with, that her sacrifices were too much, even for love. But instead, he gave her a small smile, his dark eyes holding a look she couldn’t decipher.

  “He was a very lucky man.” Picking up the plates, Mitch took them to the sink, calling himself every kind of a fool for envying a man who had died tragically, and way too young. But listening to Hannah talk about her husband with such open honesty, admitting she was content with her decisions reminded him of his discontent with his own life. How she could turn red as a brick just looking at his bare chest yet reveal unabashedly falling in love at first sight when she was just a teenager was beyond him, and he found himself more intrigued by her by the minute. But even if her stricter morals weren’t an obstacle to him getting in her pants, he wasn’t about to play second fiddle to a dead man. “Thank you for dinner, Hannah. I can grill just about anything, but that’s the extent of my culinary skills. I haven’t had a homemade dish since last Thanksgiving.”

  Hannah’s attention had been snared by his bare feet again, and she felt a ridiculous blush steal over her cheeks as he raised a black brow at her look. How on earth could she feel so flustered over a man’s bare feet? True, neither she nor Caleb had ever gone around barefoot, but still, it was feet, for goodness sake. Trying to ignore the flutter in her pulse, as well as between her legs, she rose and smiled at him. “There’s plenty left for a few meals. I’ll get the dishes later. Have a nice evening, Mitch.”

  Mitch followed her to the door. “Good night, Hannah. Call on me if you need anything.” He watched her walk across the drives, waited until she stepped inside then grabbed his truck’s keys, locking the door behind him.

  Casey’s was about a thirty minute drive on the outskirts of the county and Mitch tried to use the drive time to clear his head of images of Hannah naked, Hannah kneeling, looking up at him with those silver/blue eyes, her soft lips wrapped around his cock, Hannah’s pale, lush body bent over the arm of his black leather couch, her ass high, reddened from his hand. Damn, his imagination could conjure up a multitude of scenes and positions that had his cock kissing his zipper, making his seated position painfully difficult. It has been eons since he was so fixated on a woman, ages since he wanted one so badly it left him sweating with the effort to ignore his body’s demands. She was nothing like he envisioned, and not just her lush body and pretty face.

  Hannah wasn’t the bible thumper he thought all people of such strict faith were, wasn’t judgmental or pious. She was attracted to him and it wasn’t vanity that made him think that. He was old enough to know when a woman wanted him, but she seemed to be confused about her attraction, unsure what to do about it, a reaction he was not used to from women. And, fuck if that insecurity didn’t turn him on; make him want to show her, slowly and with great detail, what to do when you lusted after someone. And lust was exactly what he saw on her face when she eyed his chest, hell, even when she looked at his bare feet her whole body practically vibrated with need. He doubted if she even knew her eyes were drenched with longing when she looked at him. Maybe her naivety was due to marrying young, having experienced sex with only one person, and Caleb, if Mitch wasn’t mistaken, had been as much a virgin as Hannah. One would think that, after ten years of marriage, the two of them had experimented and explored all sexual possibilities, then again, given their deep faith, maybe not.

  As much as he would like to show Hannah all the delights he suspected she has been missing out on, there was no way the little prude was going to set aside a lifetime of strict moral virtues for a fling, and Mitch had to respect that about her and keep his distance. There was no way a woman who used words like courtship and made sure her hair was tucked neatly back into her braid before coming to visit would do anything but fantasize about sex with a virtual stranger, besides, the first time he swatted her ass or pinned her beneath him, he’d probably traumatize her for life. Eventually, she will find a nice accountant who will make love to her nicely, like she wants, but in the meantime, he would be her friend if she needed him to.

  But, by the time he pulled into Casey’s parking lot beside the McGilley’s vehicles, the images of Hannah with some nameless, faceless, boring, dick wad had put him in an irritable mood and hadn’t done anything to relieve his hard-on.

  “Hell, fuck it,” he muttered as he leaned back and carefully lowered his zipper over his straining erection. When his cock sprang free, he breathed a sigh of relief and when he wrapped his hand around his girth, he moaned lowly at the instant, searing relief. He was not, he swore, going to be led around by his dick, no matter how much his body wanted to sink between her soft thighs. She was not his type, he repeated each time he stroked his cock, over and over until the words blurred along with his vision. Palming his crown, he let his pre-come dampen his hand then moved back down, tightening his fist almost painfully around his shaft. Pinpoints of light dotted behind his eyelids as pleasure swept up from his balls and spewed from his head. God, when was the last time he got off from only a few swipes of his hand around his cock? He continued to stroke himself through the tremors, big and small, fondled his balls which caused another burst of semen to ejaculate, another sweep of pleasure through his groin that had him gritting his teeth to keep from shouting. Not that anyone would hear out here.

  Grabbing some tissues from the glove compartment, he cleaned himself up, feeling like a fucking teenager who couldn’t go a day without jacking off. Hell, he’d just had sex, very satisfying sex, last night and he was way past the age where he couldn’t go without sex for more than a day or two.

  Stepping out of his truck, he adjusted his jeans thinking he could blame Hannah for driving him bat shit crazy by hiding that tempting body behind those frumpy clothes and looking at him out of those unusual striking eyes as if she was starving but had forgotten what to do about it, a fucking red flag if there ever was one for a guy who liked to grab control and run with it. But the truth was, he had been feeling out of sorts way before today and he met his neighbor, so to be fair, he wouldn’t lay the blame for his discontent at her door. He’d blame Mary instead for asking him to do the unforgivable and look out for Hannah.

  Stepping into Casey’s and seeing all four McGilley’s already into a game, he decided he’d lay the blame at their door also. The more the merrier and, after all, he had been happy and content before they all got shackled and ruined his fun. Yes, between the brothers daring to be blissfully happy in their committed relationships and Mary’s request, he didn’t stand a chance of maintaining the status quo of his life, and it was entirely their fault he was jacking off in the parking lot like a randy teen who didn’t get past first base with his prom date.

  “We didn’t think you were going to show tonight,” Colin said, eyeing his long-time friend out of McGilley green eyes.

  Mitch grabbed a beer from behind the bar then pulled out the empty chair
and sat down, taking his irritation out on them. “I was helping a neighbor out, that okay with you?”

  “Hey, I thought I was the only one who was allowed to be irritable on a regular basis,” Donovan said, wondering what bug had crawled up his ass. “Need to go a round with my punching bag, bro?”

  Shit, Mitch felt like an ass, and hearing Donovan call him ‘bro’ so naturally, just like he did his half-brothers, made him feel two inches tall. “No, I’d rather punch your ugly mug, but since that’ll make Anna upset with me, I’ll settle for taking your money. Sorry, guys,” he added without further explanation.

  “No problem. Your mood swings lately aren’t nearly as bad as Kayla’s. I swear, that girl is either crying or jumping my bones. No one told me a pregnant woman could be so unpredictable,” Brett complained, but there was a decided twinkle in his green eyes.