If I Could Be With You (9 page)

CHAPTER fourteen

Hannah pulled her coat tighter across her chest as she waited for her defroster to do its duty. Thanksgiving traditionally marked the time of year where there was no returning to just sweaters or jackets and with the frost already on her windshield before midnight, she imagined it was going to be a very chilly weekend. Her thoughts drifted to Charlie in New York. Where had he spent his Thanksgiving? She hadn’t had the nerve to ask his parents. Fear of finding out he was with Nadia and they were doing something special or romantic kept her from digging.

Still, she wanted to believe he was happy somewhere. As her thoughts often did when they strayed to him she began to remember what it felt like to kiss him. She replayed their romantic moments in her mind. The feel of him behind her at the window that very first time she knew they would touch. His hands squeezing her ass as he rode her to a screaming orgasm. She shifted in her seat. If she kept this up she wouldn’t need the defroster.

She wanted nothing more than to hear his voice, to have him tell her he wanted her and needed her, to have him say her name as he spilled himself inside her. Damn this age of cell phones. She missed the days when you could call a boy, hear his voice and hang up without him knowing who had called.

She started the engine and hit the wiper blades to clear the mush that had formed from the heat blast. Reaching for her phone she contemplated texting him, just to check in or say Happy Thanksgiving. They had always been friends, right? Maybe not real friends until her trip to New York, but friendly enough that she should be allowed a holiday wish for him.

When she reached into her coat pocket for her phone she was surprised to find an envelope, the same size as before with her name written in black on the front. How had it gotten in her coat? Relief flooded through her as she realized her stalker theory had to be wrong. Her coat had been in Lilly and Joe’s bedroom all day, therefore the list of suspects was short. Someone must be playing a practical joke, but the poem in the last card had been so sincere and beautiful. If it was a joke, it wasn’t all that funny.

She lifted the flap hoping the glitter accompanying the last note wouldn’t make an appearance. Cleaning out her car wouldn’t be as easy as her living room floor. She sighed as small gold stars drifted onto her coat and the car seat. It was another poem, but this time short and sweet. “Roses are red, violets are blue, The two most romantic words in the world wait for you.”

She flipped the card over looking for the words. A riddle? Whoever was sending her these cards either intended for her to be perplexed or they were hoping she’d figure it out. She reached out and put the car into drive. In a way she was enjoying the attention, she just hoped she wouldn’t have to wait much longer to find out who her secret admirer was. Her thoughts roamed back over the past five months of dates. Had she introduced any of then to her family? Who could have been doing the dirty work of putting the cards in place?

There was the firefighter from the next town over that had known Joe in high school. He was a beautiful man to be sure, but she hoped it wasn’t him because there hadn’t been any physical connection. Her first date back in July had been a friend of Lilly’s but he travelled too much for work and they had never found time to see each other again. No, none of the men from her recent dating spree made sense. Besides, none of them knew her the way the writer of the first poem did.

She gave herself a moment of weakness and imagined it could be Charlie. The words, they could so easily have come from his lips, but how? How would he have placed a hand written note in her coat at Thanksgiving, and the first note had shown up days before even if he had come in town for the holidays. It could have been Susie helping him. Lilly wouldn’t have done it but she said he’d talked with Susie, too. Hope swelled in her chest and the ache was sweet and painful.

She pulled into her driveway and walked up to her porch. Her hand stilled at the keyhole when she heard rustling in the bushes to her right. Her shoulders tensed and the bittersweet pain in her chest turned to adrenaline as she place the keys between her fingers to use as a weapon if need be. She slowly turned and saw a chipmunk staring up at her.

“You scared me to death, cutie pie,” she said smiling to herself and turned back to the door.”

“That was never my intention,” a voice from behind her called out.

Waves of nervous energy rolled through her. This couldn’t be real. He had to be a dream. There was no way that when she turned around Charles McMillan would be standing in her yard on Thanksgiving evening. She was hallucinating, but she had to know, had to see for herself.

When she turned, there he stood in his black pea coat, collar raised brown waves tousling gently in the cold breeze. In his hands he held a sign, beautifully designed with stenciled calligraphy. She blinked twice trying to comprehend what it meant.

“Two words,” he said.

“I’m divorced,” she read out loud.

“Divorced and here for you, Hannah Miller.”

He moved towards her purposefully throwing the placard to the porch floor and pulling her into his arms. Warm lips and breath fought against the nip in the air as he lowered his mouth on hers devouring her with a need so visceral it overtook every part of her body. She wanted him in her fingers and toes, in her arms and legs, in her mind, her heart and even more so inside of her. She needed to hold him and feel him moving on top of her, breathing in as he breathed out.

His hands began to unbutton her coat and the chill that reached her abdomen brought her back to reality for a moment. She grabbed his wrists and stopped him.

“No, Hannah. Please don’t send me away. I love you. I’m ready for you. I’ve done what you asked.” His eyes stared intently into hers. “I grew up.”

She put a finger to his lips.

“It’s cold Charles. I just want to open the door and move inside.”

His shoulders relaxed and she let go of his wrists.

“You’re not sending me away?” he asked.

“I’m not sending you away.”

She grabbed his hand and led him into her home, watching him take in his surroundings. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

He reached for her waist and pulled her to him. “You think I’m inspecting your housekeeping skills?” he leaned in and pressed his nose to her neck inhaling deeply. “Hannah, my Hannah. I can’t explain how much I’ve missed your smell, your smile…your body. I’ve been in a constant state of agitation for five months, wanting and needing you and knowing I couldn’t have you yet.”

She let her fingers play in the curls at his nape and relished the feel of his tongue sliding in and around her earlobe.

“Let’s talk later, Charles. You’re divorced. You’re here. I don’t want to do anything but be with you right now.”

He lifted her up, cradling her in strong arms. “Bedroom?” he whispered.

“Through the hall on the left.”

He carried her into the small lavender room where she suddenly felt slightly sheepish about her exceedingly girly queen sized bed and trappings.  It soon became clear that nothing in the room really mattered, though. Her man was focused on one thing and one thing only, her body. He lifted her sweater over her shoulders and undid the blouse beneath, taking great care with each button. It was agonizingly slow with each brush of a fingertip against her skin turning her on all the more.

When he had her naked from the waist up, he lowered his mouth to her nipple and she felt electricity streak through her like lightning straight to her clit. She let out a moan to show her appreciation and her sucked harder, scraping her with his teeth as he lapped with his tongue.

“Charles?” she whispered.

He stopped to look up at her.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.”

So he stood and raised his own long sleeved tee over his head revealing the abs that made her knees go weak and her lower abdomen tighten. He undid his jeans and lowered his boxers with them. His cock stood proud and hard and she wondered if she could desire anything more than she did him in that moment.

She reached down and slid her own slacks and panties off opening her legs for him and motioning him towards her. The feel of his skin on hers was like velvet, soft and warm. She slid against it as he moved over her trailing kisses down her stomach, past her hips and onto her inner thighs.

“Oh, God,” she wailed as his lips found her center and his long, callused fingers buried themselves inside her. He worked his lips around and around and pulsed his wrist in time with each stroke of his tongue until she was bucking against him unable to control the sensations coursing through her. She heard herself saying, “Don’t stop,” over and over again as the vibration of the laughter he held back intensified every movement until her world went black and wave after wave crashed through her, drumming pleasure into her very core.

He raised his head and slid up so that they were eye to eye.

“I love you, Hannah.”

“I love you, Charles.” Her proclamation a barely audible whisper as she recovered from what was possibly
the
orgasm of her life.

He pulled her on top of him and her hair fell over her shoulders around her face. She went to push it back but he stopped her.

“I just need to look at you,” he said.

She could feel his unyielding girth straining against her pussy and she shifted her hips to rub against him, back and forth she shared the slick wetness he’d made happen. When his tip sat poised at her opening again she lifted forward and then sat back slowly feeling every inch of him slide into her. She saw his eyes darken and close as his hands gripped her hips showing her what he needed, setting the pace for his own release.

He was deep inside of her, touching places she didn’t know she needed to be touched. Every stroke taking her higher and higher towards a freedom she hadn’t even known existed. She watched his face, the way he drew his eyebrows together straining to hold back, to bring her to another peak. His lips called her name as she moved up and down, grinding against him, trying to get impossibly closer, reaching for something they both wanted desperately.

She knew when he couldn’t take anymore. His eyes widened and she felt herself being flipped onto her stomach. His hand spread her legs and he took her from behind thrusting hard as his breath on her neck came faster and faster. He snaked his hand round her belly and in between her legs resting most of his weight on top of her. She couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but accept his plunging cock and his massaging fingers. He was close. She felt it and suddenly she was shaking and moaning as he increased the speed of his thrust and his hand. Out of nowhere she lost total control. There was no time, no thoughts, she couldn’t move but she was coming, so hard she heard herself scream, and then with a groan of pure satisfaction she felt him come into her and collapse at her side.

“Holy shit,” he said quietly and he pulled her against him to spoon.

She didn’t know if she could speak yet, the experience had overwhelmed her to the verge of tears. Losing total control like that, letting someone into herself completely, she felt like she had made love for the very first time in her life.

“You’re mine, Hannah.”

“I’m yours, Charles.”

She let herself melt into him as she drifted into a heavy sleep.

****

He was staring at her when she woke. If it had been any other man she probably would have been creeped out, but the gentle look of total acceptance and love that lit his face was almost more than she could bear.

“Good morning,” she said and nuzzled her face between his shoulder and arm.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” He placed a kiss on the top of her head. “We should talk today,” he said.

Fear flooded her veins for a quick second before she intentionally relaxed her muscles and gave into what she had learned to call trust. She trusted him. He’d done what she asked. He’d come half way cross the country for her and he shared every bit of himself with her last night. Talking was good, not scary. Talking was the pathway to their future, a future she was now positive that she wanted very badly.

“Yes,” she nodded. “Talking is good, but breakfast sounds better. Want me to cook?”

He laughed at that.

“Umm, let me think about it.” He rolled his eyes and pretended to be in deep thought. “That’s a negative Ghost Rider.”

She laughed. “Look at you throwing movie references older than you are. OK then, does that mean you want to cook?”

He shook his head and suggested they throw on some clothes and eat out somewhere.  “I’ve heard that new breakfast place downtown is pretty good, what’s it called again?”

“You mean the Bacon Shack?”

“Definitely. Just the name makes me salivate.”

“OK, let me grab a shower though.” She started to rise and he pulled her back down.

“I don’t want you to shower. Don’t you have a baseball cap or something to throw your hair up with?”

“Yeah,” she answered and sat up, “but why can’t I take a shower first?”