by Liz Crowe
After that last statement I pounded into her. Her hands slammed against the wall in front of her as I took her roughly from behind. I had a point to make. She came over and over again as I hammered into her core. “You feel that? You feel your body succumbing to it. Let it happen, Angel. I’m here. I’ll always be here.” I wanted her to beg me to stop. Beg me to never leave.
“Hank, I can’t, I can’t, no more,” she cried, then moaned as I reached around and found her clit.
“Another. Just one more. I want you to come with me, Angel.” That did her in. Her pussy clamped down around my length so tight it sucked all the air from my lungs. My cock jerked, pouring my seed into her.
We both tumbled into a heap of naked limbs and arms to the floor. I caught her listless form as she slid into my lap. My shoulder screamed like hell, but I didn’t care. That was one of the most intense experiences of my life. I knew at that moment that we could never be apart. She was it for me. There would be no other like her. Now I just needed to convince her of it.
Chapter Eleven
Something about Hank was off. All week he’d been less demanding of my time, more attentive to what he perceived were my needs. Instead of rushing to bed, he wanted to talk each night. Really talk about my day, about life, about random things. It was nice, normal even. We watched movies together, went for walks, got ice cream, he even went so far as to make me breakfast in bed one morning. I doubt Gustav was thrilled with that. The Swede didn’t take kindly to anyone cooking in my kitchen but him.
Even the sex was different this week. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was, but it seemed as though it held more meaning.
I wondered briefly if it had anything to do with the fact that his mother was coming into town this evening and would be here for a few days.
Excitement and dread took over my thoughts in equal parts. What if she didn’t like me? What if she made Hank go back home? He held his mother on a pedestal, something I was completely unaccustomed to.
My mother was an evil she-devil who didn’t deserve more than a fleeting thought. He doted on his mother and talked about her as if she were made of sugar and spice and everything nice. I pictured a Mary Poppins type. A real do-gooder. I was doomed.
Oliver entered my office. “I’ve got reservations at Bellissimo scheduled for seven for the three of you. Are you ready to meet Hank’s mother?”
“Not really. What if she hates me?”
“Pen, seriously? She’s not going to hate you.” He started messing with my hair, wrapping locks around his fingers to refresh the curls. Hank liked it best when he could run his fingers through my hair, so it was down. I’d been wearing it down a lot more lately. I loved having Hank’s hands on me and would go great lengths to make sure he did as often as possible.
“You don’t know that. My own mother hates me!”
“Your mother is a stuck up bitch. She doesn’t even like herself.” We both smiled, knowing that his words held a great deal of truth.
I leaned against my desk chewing my lip until it hurt. A headache was starting at my temples and I rubbed at it uselessly.
“You’re really worried?” His voice held a twinge of surprise.
“Yes, I am.” I took a deep breath. “Hank adores his mother. If she doesn’t like me, there’s no hope for us.”
“I can’t believe that. Honey, you don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re beautiful, obscenely rich, and most importantly, Hank loves you,” he finished.
“Shut your mouth! He doesn’t love me. He loves fucking me. Big difference!” The words flew from my mouth, but even I didn’t believe them a hundred percent.
“Pen, he does, too. He’s been living in your home for what, five weeks now? Sleeping in your bed. You’ve spent every single free moment together.” His eyebrows knit together. “You owe me for that one by the way. And at the end of the day, you’ve never been happier.” He tipped my chin until my eyes met his. “The cowboy loves you. You’d better accept that and start taking responsibility for it. And, you need to tell him.”
“I have nothing to give a man like him.”
“You have everything to give and his love to gain. He’s not Grant. He’s not going to screw you over. He’s Hank the Hunk. A fucking cowboy from Texas. I should be so lucky!”
“You have Dean, asshat!”
“You’ve got a point. I do have Dean and … mmm, he’s yummy.” He looked off into the distance with one of his dreamy-eyed stares.
“I’m just not used to feeling nervous about meeting the family. In my past relationships, their families knew my family and my reputation spoke for itself. With Hank’s mom, she doesn’t know me from Adam.” I sunk into my leather office chair and banged my head on the desk.
Oliver rubbed my back and shoulders and pulled me up. “Stop that, you’ll leave a mark,” he laughed. “Look, you’re going to be great. Let your beauty and sparkling personality win her over. It did for me. You had nothing but frizzy hair and a trust fund when we met, and I just knew I had to share a life with you.”
“Thank you, Ollie.” Tears pooled at the corner of my eyes and I used the pad of my ringer fingers to stop the flow. The last thing I wanted was to look like a raccoon when I met his mom.
“Yeah well, who else was going to fix that mop of hair and burn your scrunchies?” He mock shivered and pretended to vomit.
“Oh, cut it out. I wasn’t that bad.”
He looked at me pointedly, eyebrows sky high.
“Okay, maybe I was.”
We finished up the day focusing solely on business. I texted Hank to ensure that he was ready.
To: Hank Jensen
Dinner’s at 7:00 at Bellisimo. Is she here?
From: Hank Jensen
Precious cargo arrived. We’ll meet you there, Angel.
Of course my five o’clock meeting ran late. I hadn’t notified Hank, but I was meeting with Grant and his lawyers about the incident at the estate last weekend. After a week of legal hell, I was prepared to offer the bastard a settlement. I didn’t want any of this to get between Hank’s healing or his excitement over his mother coming.
My lawyer, Nathaniel Walker, was a shrewd businessman with a lovely British accent, and he was easy on the eyes. We’d actually been introduced and went on a couple dates a few years ago. Nothing more than a chaste kiss ever occurred; we realized that we were better suited to a friendship and professional relationship than a romantic one.
With Nate, there just wasn’t a spark. Initially he had hounded me mercilessly for months to get me to agree to the first date. Now he was using the mercilessness to save me a few hundred thousand dollars on a mistake I wish I’d never made.
Grant was being utterly ridiculous. He wanted to hurt me and he was using his legal arms in an attempt to batter and embarrass me. With Nate on my side, he wouldn’t win. Stone, Walker & Associates were known for their success rates, not their losses.
We left the meeting having not come to an agreement. Grant officially wanted to press charges, but was holding back, waiting to see what I’d offer him.
“God, he’s such a creep! I can’t believe I ever thought I loved him. What the hell was I thinking?” I rubbed at my eyes as Nate and I headed toward the elevator.
“’Creep’ sure does fit the bill. Don’t worry though, love.” He gripped my shoulder and squeezed it. “Before long, I’ll have his arse in a sling,” he said with conviction and a wicked hot British accent.
“Oh, Nate, I believe you. If anyone can get past his bull, it will be you and Collier. How is your brother, anyway?”
His brother was also a fine specimen of the opposite sex. Good-looking, smart, very kind eyes. And he had the charming British accent that made women melt on the spot. Though as of late, it was a Southern accent that made my panties drop.
Nate walked me to my limo and opened the door. “Can I drop you anywhere?” I asked him.
“Maybe. You up or downtown?”
“Up.”
&n
bsp; “Brilliant! I’d fancy a lift then. Thank you, love.”
Nathaniel Walker was a good guy, charming, with movie star looks. I wondered why he was still single. “Nate, you seeing anyone?”
He waggled his eyebrows and his mouth turned into a sexy grin. “Is that an invitation?” he joked.
“You know it’s not. I’m just curious. What’s a single guy, good-looking, British no less, doing without a beautiful bombshell on his arm?”
“Just because there’s not one on my arm right this moment doesn’t mean there isn’t one,” he chided.
“Oh! I’m sorry. You’re right.”
He laughed. “No, you’re dead on, love. I’m not officially seeing anyone. Just dating here and there. Pretty busy to find the right bird, as it were.”
“Bird?”
“A lady friend. We Brits often call our women birds,” he clarified.
“You Brits are strange.”
“No more strange than you Yanks! Here men call their ladies by terrible names in comparison. I hear ’my bitch’ or ‘my old lady’ constantly. Can’t fathom that a woman would rather be addressed as a bitch or old versus a lovely bird in any context.”
I rolled around his logic. “Good point. Bird it is.”
We both laughed. I leaned over and poured myself two fingers of scotch.
“Whoa, love. That’s a lot for a little thing like you.”
“Liquid courage.” I hesitated and took a sip, letting the alcohol warm my belly and calm my nerves.
“Aspen, darling, you’ve never been afraid of anything in the few years we’ve known each other. Would you care to share?”
“My significant other’s mother is coming to town for the first time.”
“Ah, I see. Say no more. My mum would interrogate any woman I brought home. Just be yourself. And if that doesn’t work, buy her a car.” He grinned wickedly.
I smacked him on the shoulder and laughed with him.
My stop was first and with the best of manners, Nate got out and helped me out of the car and gave me a hug. Then he kissed both cheeks, slid his hands down my arms to clasp my hands, squeezing them. “You’ll do great, my love.” He lightly kissed my forehead.
I smiled up at him and turned away. My nose bumped into a solid mass. Ouch! I could recognize that manly scent mixed with citrus anywhere. I looked into the smoldering green eyes of my cowboy. His jaw was clenched and his gaze glacial.
“Who’s your friend, Angel?”
It took me a moment to comprehend his question, so taken aback by the electricity and anger I felt sizzling off him. Nate heard the question and immediately introduced himself.
“You must be the significant other she mentioned in the car. ‘Right-hook Hank’!” Nate put out his hand and Hank’s eyebrows knit together, his eyes scrunching into tight points. “I’m Nathaniel Walker, Aspen’s friend and attorney. It’s good to meet you.”
Hank shook his hand. “Right-hook Hank? That’s a first. Hank Jensen.” He seemed to relax a little. His arm came around my shoulders and I burrowed into his side. “I wanted to be outside when you arrived so that you knew where to find our table.” His eyes softened as he looked into mine.
“Right-o, well then, mate, I best be on my way. We’ll have to get together sometime.” I nodded and Hank just hugged me tighter to his chest. “Cheers.”
Seeing that man’s hands on Aspen had me fit to be tied. “I don’t care for another man’s hands on my woman.” The tension was building within me and I was not capable of stopping it until I had my answers. With a hand on her waist I ushered her into the restaurant.
“Hank, don’t be silly. He’s my lawyer and an old friend. There’s nothing between us.” She tried to assure me unconvincingly. In a short time, I knew my angel well enough to know she was holding something back.
“Have you slept with him?” I had to know if that man had put his paws on my girl.
“No!” she half-whispered, half-yelled.
“Ever date him?” I don’t know why I was choosing to torture myself but he had his hands on her. He was a good-looking man and he seemed way too familiar with her. She groaned.
“Yes, two dates. Enough to realize we were never going to be anything more than friends.” She sighed and searched my eyes.
“Did he kiss you?” She stopped dead in her tracks and I knew the answer.
“Can we not do this now?”
I gripped her chin and held her gaze. “Answer the question?”
“Seriously?” She rolled her eyes. “Technically, yes we’d kissed … once! It felt like kissing my brother. Happy?”
“Not especially. Your lips are mine now. I don’t want anyone ever getting to taste the pleasure of what’s mine.” With that I cupped her face in both of my hands. “You got it?”
She stared intently, her gray-blue eyes swirling. I saw the very moment she understood. Her eyes closed and a slow breath left her lips. God, she was so beautiful. “Hank … ” she started but I stopped her with my lips. She tasted like honey and cherry lip gloss.
She sighed into my mouth and I dipped my tongue in tasting her more fully. I could feel people walking past us and I didn’t care. I kissed my angel like it was my meal ticket. Like a good, solid day’s work. She returned my kiss with a ferocity I didn’t expect. My hand went down and cradled her ass, pulling her up and against me. She moaned. Damn, she was perfect. She pulled away first, her eyes a deep blue now.
“That’s more like it, Stud.”
Damn, I loved when she called me that. It made my heart warm and my dick hard. I couldn’t wait to get her back home.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she chastised.
I smiled, “Like what?”
“Like you’re thinking of all the naughty things you’re going to do to me.”
I cupped and squeezed her ass pecking her on the lips one more time. “You know me too well, Darlin’.”
“Come on Hank, your Mom is waiting.”
Holy shit! “I damn near forgot! Shit!” I pushed her on into the room where my mother was happily rearranging the centerpiece flowers. Her eyes jumped up and she smiled when she saw me. “Mom, this here is Aspen Reynolds.”
“Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Jensen.” Aspen reached her hand out but my mother jumped out of her chair and threw her arms around her.
“Just call me Julia or Mom, everyone does!”
“Thank you, Julia. My friends call me Pen.” Aspen returned the hug and moved away.
I pulled out my mother’s seat and then Aspen’s.
We ordered drinks and stuffed mushrooms to start. I let Aspen choose the wine since she actually knew something about the stuff.
Out of nowhere the most beautiful words came out of my Angel’s mouth directed at our waiter. “Ci piacerebbe avere vino rosso questa sera. Che cosa mi consiglia?”
My mother and I looked on in awe as Aspen spoke to the waiter in fluent Italian ordering the wine.
“Angel? You speak Italian?” I know my smile was as infectious as my mom’s, who also couldn’t hold back her own surprise.
“I do. Spanish, French, and a touch of German, as well,” she smiled. I looked at her, completely astonished. “What?” she grinned.
“You amaze me, Angel.”
“In my line of work, I wouldn’t be able to speak to half of the models and talent if I didn’t know enough of their languages. I mean, most speak English, but it can be very hard to understand them. When I’m negotiating a contract, I want them to be fully aware of what they are signing up for.”
“You’re so smart. I bet you have a great job!” My mother gushed. “Who do you work for?”
“I do.” She answered without finishing.
“Don’t be shy, Darlin’. Tell Ma here what you do.” I was proud of my girl and wanted her to be proud of herself, too.
“Oh Hank, your mom’s really not interested in my work.” At that moment the wine arrived and she swirled it around her glass, stuck her nose in, and took a sniff. T
hen sipped and nodded to the waiter. He poured three glasses and she took a huge gulp. She was acting strange, knotting her fingers together in her lap and rubbing them together. Then it dawned on me. The confident, take-charge businesswoman was nervous.
“Ma, Aspen’s being shy. She’s actually a real big deal. You know she owns the very building that I’m adding to. Her account is the one I bid on and won.” I smiled wide and Aspen hung her head.
Strange behavior for her. She’d always been really confident and screamed powerful woman in a “hear me roar” way since we’d met. Especially when talking ‘bout her work. She normally was a regular stick of dynamite going off if you so much as mentioned something she was working on.
Tonight she was trying to downplay her job and I didn’t understand why.
“Wow! Such a young little thing like you, speaking all those languages and owning buildings? Amazing.” Ma placed her head in the hand leaning on the table. She smiled brightly at Aspen and it made me feel tall, bigger somehow.
“Told you, Ma. My angel is as smart as she is beautiful.”
Her eyes scanned Aspen’s face and body. “She will make pretty babies for sure!” Mom hinted and winked.
Aspen’s mouth opened and her eyes widen. “Mom! None of that talk. You’ve got two grandsons already. Don’t be greedy.” Aspen visibly relaxed. Did she not want children? I wanted kids. I didn’t expect them right away but in the future, a couple years down the road maybe. I was already thirty four. I didn’t want to wait too much longer.
Looks like we had yet another thing to add to the growing list of things to talk about later.
The meal was extremely filling and the wine had been flowing. Aspen drank more than she usually did and was starting to slur her words together. I didn’t mind, though, because when she started to drink she couldn’t keep her hands off me. She was very affectionate and loose-lipped when she drank, and I planned to take advantage of it once Ma was settled in for the night.