What the Heart Needs (15 page)

He wanted to protect her from any more pain. It wasn’t something he had ever done for a woman before. No one had ever pulled on the buried, primal male urge to care for a woman. It was strange to realize he was even capable of feeling that way.

“Hannah,” he said, his voice softer than it usually was. She jumped at the sound of her name and turned around, an eyebrow raised in a way that reminded him of the Hannah he hired, not this strange shell of her standing in front of him. “I would like to talk to you about…”

“Is it very important?” Hannah broke in. She could sense a strangeness to EM then. A part of her picked up on his intention to talk about something she knew she didn’t want to discuss with him. “I really have a lot of work to get back to.” And probably another two dozen emails to delete. And a note or two to file away in a new decorative box since she had already filled the other to the brim.

Elliott felt taken aback by her brashness and shook his head without realizing it. But she quickly picked up on it, and he saw relief wash over her face. “I guess it can wait,” he said. But for how long? How much longer could she hold on to the obviously thin thread of her sanity?

He knew he should have called her back. He should have sat her down and forced her to tell him what was going on. There was no question that she was very burdened and he wasn’t sure exactly how long he had before she quit. Or worse.

But something about the look of gratitude she shot him when he didn’t press her, held him back. She was still Hannah. She was still headstrong and proud and wanted to put forth a competent and efficient work persona, regardless of what was going on with her personally.

--

Hannah rushed home at five o’clock to grab the ticket the dry cleaner had given her the day before. How she had left it in her apartment was completely beyond her. She was never that absentminded. She told herself to relax. She had hours before the dry cleaner closed, but her frazzled nerves would never let her be calm about anything anymore.

Closing the door, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. It took her a second to realize how foregin her face had become. She looked drawn, her face pinched with the skin pulled tight over her prominent cheekbones. Her jaw, which to her had usually seemed a little soft, was cut sharp and jagged. Of course her skin was still splotchy from crying earlier and her eyes were swollen.

When did she lose so much weight? She had never been the kind of woman who could easily drop fifteen pounds. Whenever she had tried diet changes and exercise in the past, it had been an absolute struggle to lose even a pound or two. But then there she was- looking like a coat hanger wearing her usual clothes and she hadn’t even realized she lost that much weight. She knew her eating habits had been poor. Stress had driven her to coffee as her main diet staple with the occasional granola bar when her stomach would twist in a painful way- reminding her that she hadn’t eaten in more than twenty hours.

Hannah shook her head, making a mental note to pick up something to eat after the dry cleaners. Italian food full of carbs and cheese. Or something fried- mozzerella sticks. Dessert- decadent chocolate milk shakes or brownies. She needed to pack on some calories and put some weight back on.

She ran for the kitchen counter, greeting Ricky and grabbing the ticket from where she left it next to the coffee pot. As she turned, she noticed something white on the floor. Walking closer, she felt dread pulling her stomach into a fight fist. It was a letter. On the floor. In her apartment.

Bending forward, she picked it up with shaking hands and opened it.

You cant run. You cant hide. I will find you wherever you go.

She dropped it onto the floor as if it had scalded her. Whoever was out to get her had her home address now. It was one thing to know a coworker slipped messages under your door, or sent you threatening emails, or even wrote cruel things on your car. But when they found their way to your home to taunt you… that was something else altogether.

With a sick stomach, and all ideas of possible food pushed aside, she grabbed the letter and stuffed it under a pile of old mail. She made sure the door was locked when she left, though she knew it wouldn’t stop letters from sliding under her door to haunt her later.

--

She barreled into his driveway with ease of her surroundings. Elliott looked out his study’s window when he saw the lights pull up. It wasn’t often she went to his house. Once in a while when he forgot something at work, she would bring it to him. But he hadn’t messaged her about anything.

Hannah climbed out of the car and opened the passenger door, pulling out six hangers of suits wrapped in plastic. She usually dropped off his dry cleaning early in the day when he had a meeting. He probably never even knew how the clean clothes got in his bedroom. They were just always there.

She hadn’t even considered that he might have been home. She didn’t even notice his car right in front of her’s in the driveway. She unlocked the front door, closing it behind her and starting for the staircase.

“Hannah?”

She froze, her heart thrumming madly in her chest. EM? What was he doing there? She turned toward the sound of her name and found him starting to rise from his desk in the library.

“Oh,” her voice sounded breathless. “I didn’t know you were here. I was just dropping off the dry cleaning like usual.”

He studied her for a moment, not saying anything. She took the silence as a chance to slip away and put the clothes in the closet and get out of there without having to have any kind of conversation with her boss.

“Wait,” EM’s voice caught her just as her foot hit the first step. “Wait. The clothes can wait. Can you come here for a second,” he asked, hoping his voice sounded reassuring, calm.

Hannah took a deep breath and turned, walking into the study and hanging the clothes on a coat rack next to the door. “Yes?”

Elliott waved a hand to the chair across from his desk. “Have a seat.”

Hannah nodded, feeling extremely uncomfortable. What could he possibly have to discuss with her? She had been making sure her work was irreproachable. She did every task he set before her and had it done in less time than he allotted it. Except his lunch that afternoon. She had screwed up there. Though she found it incredibly strange that he would be so annoyed by that that he had to pull her aside and chastise her like a kid in a principle’s office.

She sat down, folding her hands in her lap and looking at his face while carefully avoiding eye contact.

There was a pregnant silence, she could hear the wind making a tree outside tap against the windowpane. She heard the buzz of the white noise from his computer. Finally he sighed. The sound caught her off guard, making her jump slightly.

He was trying to find the right way to begin such a delicate conversation. She looked so small and worried sititng there, like a strong breeze or one misspoken word could knock her right over.

“Hannah…” he started, noticing how straight she was holding her spine. “How are you?” he asked, feeling dumb and lacking.

Hannah’s eyebrows raised. He was asking her how she was? He had never asked her that. He probably never asked any of his employees that. “I’m… fine,” she said quickly. Too quickly.

Elliott shook his head. “No don’t do that,” he said, getting out of his chair and moving toward the front of his desk. He leaned against it, putting himself right in front of where she was sitting, his feet only inches from hers. “Something is going on with you. And it has been going on for a while now. I just want to know what it is.”

Hannah was silent a moment, panic filling her so full she felt nauseated. She couldn’t get into this with him. He would never understand. He would probably even be angry with her for not telling him. He wouldn’t accept this behavior in his office. And on top of all of that, it was too embarrassing to let him know all the horrible things that were being said about her.

She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin in a defiant way. “Has it been effecting my work?” she asked in a surprisingly strong tone.

Elliott wanted to laugh. It was a glimpse of the Hannah she was before. And she posed a good question. Had it been effecting her work? As a whole… no.

“As a whole… no,” at her look of success, he held up a hand. “Not yet. But it will. You wont be able to keep up with your responsibilities without getting proper rest,” He looked at her, a certain sadness in his eyes, “without eating.”

Hannah’s mouth opened as if she was going to refute his claims, but knew she could never do so convincingly. It shocked her that he had even noticed. She always figured she faded into the background of his surroundings like a lamp or an office chair. It made her feel uneasy to realize he looked at her, that he could see through her like that.

“This isn’t like you, sweetheart,” Elliott said softly, shocking her with the endearment. The fact that he even knew the word sweetheart was surprising. “What’s going on?”

Hannah felt tears swim in her eyes for a split second. It felt good to have someone see that she was hurting, even if the person asking was, however unwittingly, a source of some of the pain. “It’s not important,” she protested, starting to stand.

“It’s important to me,” he said, his hand reaching out and taking her fragile wrist. She turned back to him, her eyes glimmering with concealed emotions. Her grey eyes held his and before he could think better of it, he stood. His free hand rubbed her jaw line which was more defined than the last time he touched it.

She still looked up at him, her mouth parting as his fingers slowly stroked down the side of her neck. His face leisurely inched closer to hers, his eyes scanning hers for any sign of rejection. When he found none, his lips met hers softly.

Hannah moaned against his mouth. His hand let go of her wrist and went around her waist. His other hand slid from the nape of her neck into her hair and pulled her face closer to his.

He felt her body melt against his and her tongue slipped into his mouth, toying with his tentatively. He coaxed her slowly until her passion rivaled his, then he plunged his tonuge into her mouth, the tremble down her spine urging him further.

Hannah’s heart beat unnaturally fast. Her breasts felt heavy, the nipples poised at sensitive taut points. She felt the fabric of her shirt brush against them and sighed. She pressed her hips deeper against his, feeling the entire length of his hardness pressing into her pelvis.

Elliott’s hands slipped down her back, running across the width of her hips before dipping lower and grabbing her ass. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and felt his hands grip her backside roughly, pulling her upward and off the floor. Hannah giggled, being held in the air by her butt. He pulled her tightly against him and Hannah quickly wrapped her legs around his waist.

With one hand rough around her waist, Elliott held her in place while his other hand grabbed the back of her head and held her still while his mouth plundered hers with incredible pressure.

Hannah whimpered, biting his lower lip more roughly than she would ever have thought appropriate. Her legs ached from how tightly she was holding herself against him. She felt desire spread through her belly, dipping lower until she felt herself rubbing the juncture of her thighs against Elliott’s hips.

Elliott grunted, nipping her lips over and over as he held her tighter and started walking toward the stairs.

Hannah’s lips left his and traced slowly down his face, feeling his stubble brush her now-sensitive mouth. She kissed gingerly down his neck until she found the spot where the neck dipped into the shoulder blade. She felt a shudder run through Elliott’s body. Spurred by his reaction, she ran her tongue in circles around the hollow.

Before she was done exploring his neck, she felt her back being lowered against his mattress. Elliott’s body went with hers, moving as one unit.

Once she was laying, his body covering hers, held up by one forearm, he pulled her hair to one side, biting her neck and making her whimper. She felt him take the flesh between his lips and sucking hard. Her legs twitched and go up around his back.

Elliott sucked in his breath. He had to slow down. Her overwhelming passion was driving him to the edge of his control faster than he was comfortable with. There was something so refreshing about her openness, her complete lack of reservations. He wondered fleetingly if it stemmed from inexperience and made his lips gentle against her throat. If he didn’t pace himself- it would be over before the both of them got to really lose themselves in each other.

His tongue hit the spot where her pulse beat wildly against her neck. Her legs pulled him roughly against her and he felt her hips rise up, grinding against his. She was begging for release, completely oblivious to how long he was going to drag it out for her.

He wanted her panting, begging, pleading for release.

Hannah felt a change. His passionate insistance turned more slow and gentle. His hand slowly ran down her side from breast to thigh and back up. Over and over. Her skin was burning from the feeling even beneath layers of clothes. Then she felt his hands slip up under her shirt, repeating the same motion on her bare skin. She trembled when his fingertips brushed the band of her bra and again when they fleetingly dipped into the waistband of her pants and touched the outline of her panties.

His weight lifted off of her slightly, allowing him more access. His hand brushed across her stomach, side to side, moving up and then down, hinting at touching where she wanted him to most but never doing it. Then his hands grabbed the bottom of her shirt and pulled it upward, making her arms go above her head as she felt the material leave her body.

For a moment she felt self-conscious. No one had seen her that bare in more years than she cared to remember. But when she looked up at Elliott, his eyes soaking in her bare skin, her pink and grey lace bra, all insecurity flooded away in a rush of desire.

His hand brushed the lace of her bra and her back arched, pushing her breast into his hand. His thumb ran across the hardened point of her nipple, side to side. She moaned and felt a rush of electricity run from her breast to her groin. Her thighs clutched his legs in longing. He took the point between his thumb and forefinger, stroking it from the base upward and gently pinching.