Read What the Heart Needs Online

Authors: Jessica Gadziala

What the Heart Needs (27 page)

BOOK: What the Heart Needs
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She had expected him to reach and pull her legs apart. To penetrate her quickly and have fast, hard sex with her. The look in his eyes said that was what he wanted to do. But he stood there, still, looking down at her.

Desire built in her quickly. She didn’t know it was possible to want someone so quickly and so much just standing with them. Impatient, needy, she allowed her legs to open slightly and she inched her hips closer to him, making his cock part her folds and push against hard against her wetness. Her mouth opened on a sigh and she saw his eyes close for a second.

But he made no move. Hannah brought a hand up to his shoulder, holding herself more steady as she rubbed her self slowly forward and back across his hard length. Over and over. Her head fell against his chest as her breath came out in sighs.

Then he was finally moving, pulling her toward the bed. He sat on the edge, his feet on the floor, and pulled her onto his lap. He grabbed her face and kissed her, long and hard and passionate. She reached between them as his tongue filled her mouth, and guided him inside her. She pushed herself down his shaft, and groaned against his lips. There was something to be said for hard, fast sex. But there was also something to this, this slow, lazy penetration that forced her body to feel him fill her impossibly full.

When she had lowered herself down to the base, she pulled her lips from his, looking into his eyes as she moved her hips away from him and then leisurely let him fill her again. The pace was painfully slow and intoxicating. She felt her thighs object, shaking from both desire and strain. But she refused to go any faster. Elliott’s hand remained around her hips, his fingers now digging into the soft flesh. His other hand went up her back, grabbing at the base of her skull and holding on as if his life depended on it.

Elliott’s jaw was tight, his muscles in his arms and shoulders tense like desire to delay his climax was taking every last bit of control.

Hannah felt her orgasm building up in a leisurely pace then nudging over the edge, culminating in one powerful throb and slowly easing, leaving her collapsed against Elliott’s neck, struggling to find the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She felt Elliott find his release, his body tensing and shaking once beneath her, his hands at her hips and neck grabbing in a punishing grip.

Hannah only stayed there a moment, worridly wondering what you were supposed to say to each other post-sex, realizing the other few times had resulted in exhausted sleep. But given they were both fully rested, that seemed unlikely. Hannah pulled herself upward, her thighs at once objecting to being in the awkward position as well as her trying to move from it.

She avoided meeting his eyes, walking over to her bag and rummaging for an outfit. Finding black jeans, a white peasant blouse, panties and a bra, she finally turned around. To bump right into Elliott who apparently had the footsteps of a cat and had come up right behind her. He plucked the bra out of her pile of clothes and hooked it onto his pointer finger.

“You wont be needing this,” he informed her, a smile playing at his lips.

“My shirt is white,” she informed him, marveling at seeing the famously serious Elliott Michaels twirling a white bra around his finger. She almost wanted to laugh, if she wasn’t about to blush. “I need it.”

“That didn’t stop you yesterday,” he informed. When she reached for it, he pulled it up higher.

“Different material,” she objected, going up onto her tippy toes to retrieve the bra in question. Her fingers had just touched the material when he rose it up over his head. A shocked smile spreading across her face. “Really? We’re really going to do this?” she asked, amused.

“Yup,” he said, smiling himself as he watched her jump up once and miss it.

“Fine,” she said, her smile becoming wicked. Before he had a chance to wonder what she had planned, she reached between them, grabbed his chest hair and pulled savagely. His hand dropped a few inches, surprised. But it was enough and she snatched the material out of his fingers with a satisfied grin. “I win,” she informed him, retreating into the bathroom, hearing his laugh even through the closed door.

She checked her reflection in the ornate bathroom mirror, a big round thing with a huge gold frame. Her face looked strange to her, her skin rosy and her eyes bright. She looked happy, she realized with a start. When was the last time she could honestly say she looked happy?

Refusing to give that much thought, she tried running a brush through her hair but nothing but a wash and condition was going to fix the tangled mess. She put the water on, waiting an impossibly long time for it to warm up. She stepped under the spray, her body achy in strange places, her hips, her thighs. She reached for the shampoo and conditioner, small sizes of spa-quality products. Emily had kicked and screamed until she got that one small concession for the guest rooms. People from the busy cities weren’t going to be happy with the dollar store variteies, she had argued. Hannah silently thanked her as she slathered on the slimy conditioner. Her hair was unmanageable without the right products.

She stood under the hot water until, despite the ceiling fan being on and the window cracked, the whole room was a blanket of steam. With a sigh, she dried and stepped out, reaching for her panties and bra. To find her bra was missing. He had actually snuck in and stolen her bra, she realized, utterly shocked.

With a sign of resignation, she quickly dressed and ran a brush through her hair. When she walked back into the bedroom, Elliott looked up, his face a mask of false ignorance.

“You could look for it,” he said, his voice teasing. He had dressed in grey slacks and a white button-down shirt. It looked both casual and professional and she wondered if the man even owned a pair of jeans. “but then we would miss breakfast,” he said, tying his shoes.

“That’s okay,” she said, glancing around but knowing she wasn’t going to find it. Knowing him, he probably threw it away. “we don’t have to do breakfast.”

Elliott looked up with a raised brow. “You need to eat,” he said in a tone that almost sounded chastising.

Hannah shrugged, slipping into a pair of black flats. “Alright then,” she said, grabbing her purse and opening the door, leaving him to rush to catch up.

He met her at the bottom of the staircase, coming up behind and placing a hand at her lower back. She wondered fleetingly if it was an act of possession or just a casual thing men did with all women they were with.

When they stepped into the dining room, Hannah noticed the eyes of at least a dozen townspeople she knew. They gave her a friendly smile which she returned, feeling self-conscious. Elliott led her to a table by the windows and pulled out the chair for her. She never realized before how nice of a gesture that was. Apparently Mr. Michaels had been raised with very good manners.

The waitor came over, offering no greeting as he handed the menus to them and poured two coffee cups. Hannah had a raised brow that Elliott shrugged at. When she looked up, she felt a jolt of recognition.

“Tristan Thomas,” she said in the tone of a cross math teacher. Tristan looked up, surprised. “I know it’s been a while,” she said, noticing Elliott had put down the menu and was looking at her. “but I used to babysit you. And I’m sure Michelle would not be happy to hear about how rude you are to customers.”

A look of recognition dawned on Tristan’s face, a smile pulling at his lips. “Aww, come on, Hanny,” he said in a fake five-year old voice. “don’t tell mama I was bad.”

Hannah laughed. A real, genuine unexpected laugh. “You were always a little terror,” she remembered, making the staid Tristan grin.

“Some things never change,” he winked, then gesturing to Elliot said, “he seemed to like my tableside manner.”

“Yes well… that hardly recommends you,” she said and Elliot chuckled.

“We’ll have two of the deluxe breakfasts and orange juice,” Elliott ordered and Hannah felt her spine stiffen. She wasn’t a fan of being ordered for.

Hannah sipped her coffee as Elliott handed back the menus and looked around. “So how many people in this room hate me for defiling the town babysitter,” he asked and Hannah choked on her coffee.

“Defintely not my mother…” she said, noticing Moira had conveniently decided to have brunch with a few friends at the inn that morning. She had winked at Hannah as they sat down and then nodded at Elliott’s back with an appreciative grin.

Elliott’s eyebrows shot up. “Your mother is here,” he asked and there was real male terror in his voice.

Hannah wanted to laugh but took pity on him instead. “It’s not like that. My mother is…”

“A free-love hippie. And by ‘free love’ I mean she had really enjoyed her share of men before settling down,” Emily said, pulling up a chair at the side of them, not caring that she was completely blocking the aisle for the servers.

“Way to make mom sound like a slut, Emmy,” Hannah said, smiling.

“Hey I’m just helping ease this guys nerves,” Emily said, her eyes piercing into Elliott. “You have nothing to worry about with Moira. She is probably thinking it was about damn time Hannah got herself some… male company.”

“Em,” Hannah rolled her eyes.

“Hey that was tame. My original phrase rhymed with duck… and muddy.”

“Oh my god shut up,” Hannah said, her cheeks turning read.

Elliott sat back, enjoying the banter at his table. He and Hannah had made some progress in the linguistic department, but they were still utterly awkward together. Having a third party was making the morning easier. And watching Emily tease Hannah in an older-sister kind of was was amusing and telling. Hannah’s blush was ridiculous and adorable.

He casually glanced around, trying to spot Moira. His eyes found her easily, a gorgeous older version of Hannah at a table of four other women. Her head shot up as soon as his eyes landed on her. She looked different with her hair down and a lack of paint on her delicate white dress. She smiled at him widely, a warm genuine smile. He smiled back, his chin lifting in acknowledgment.

He never had to deal with the strangeness of seeing women’s parents much. Dan being the exception, but that was all very formal and expected as though Dan and her father had talked about it many times before.

It felt odd for him to see a woman who clearly understood that he was having sex, casually, with her daughter.

He shook back as Emily’s chair scraped back. The food had arrived and she was excusing herself.

They ate in relative silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

“You’re coming back with me today,” Elliott’s voice said, firm, final.

Hannah put her fork down. “I have my car here,” she said as way of an excuse. She wasn’t ready to head back into that snake den again.

“Well then take your car, but you’re coming back today.”

Hannah felt her anger rising. “Oh, am I now?” she said pointedly, more accusation than question.

Elliott shrugged. “I need you back at work,” he said casually and he noticed a darkness cross her eyes. Disappointment? “And I want you back in my bed,” he finished and watched her struggle to find her words. He knew before it came out that he had her.

“Well in that case,” she said as she moved her empty plate to the edge of the table. “Alright. But I wont be leaving for a bit. I want to spend a little time with my parents and Em before I go. I haven’t been back here in a while.”

Elliott nodded. “Fine. But I need to get back. I had Sally cancel my appointments but I want to keep an eye on things regardless.”

“Right,” Hannah said, realizing that he had never spent much time away from the office. He probably didn’t know what to do with himself when he had a day off.

Elliott paid and went up to his room to pack. Hannah told him she was going to hang back and talk to her mother. A decision she instantly regretted when her mother greeted her with, “Hey baby, did you two get any sleep last night?” she paused. A perfect innocent question until, “Or did that hunky example of manhood keep you up all night?”

The rest of their meeting went much the same. All the women took turns teasing her about her new male suitor and Hannah sat there, red and embarrassed. She mused that it was well overdue, that this kind of thing was supposed to be part of her teen years and her mother had never really gotten a chance. And while she had loved Sam, Moira in all her motherly wisodm, knew it wasn’t the right fit for her daughter.

When Moira gestured toward the doorway, Hannah looked up and saw Elliott, his hands holding his and her bags. She kissed her mother and went toward the front desk where Elliott was checking out. She reached for her bag, but Elliott held onto it firmly. Rolling her eyes, she followed him out toward the street where she had parked her beat up car behind his shiny new one.

Elliott put his bags into his trunk and then placed hers in hers. He slammed the door closed and looked up at Elliott who promptly hauled her against him, his mouth coming down on hers desperately. Her arms went around his neck, her fingers clutching his hair. His tongue gently slipped into mouth and she felt her legs give out. His arms pulled her tighter, up and off his feet, her breasts crushed against his hard chest.

He growled somewhere deep in his chest and set her on her feet, releasing her slowly. She felt herself struggle for breath and was pleased to find him doing the same.

“Now that was a kiss,” a voice said, making Hannah whip around. She found an elderly lady with silver hair and a well wrinkled face. “Like he’s going off to war,” she said, nodding and continuing down the sidewalk.

Hannah felt an uncomfortable laugh escape her and Elliott’s lips were turned up in amusement. “Alright,” he said, suddenly sounding much like work-Elliott. “I have to get going.”

“Right. Okay,” she said, shifting feet. This felt a lot like goodbye. Or, at least, goodbye to the Elliott she was getting to know there. The Stars Landing Elliott. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

Elliott’s eyebrow raised and he pressed his body closer, reaching behind her and grabbing her ass. “I’ll see you in my bed tonight,” he clarified, releasing her and opening his car door. “Just let yourself in when you’re back in town.”

BOOK: What the Heart Needs
3.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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