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I know I’m not going to ever give my heart away again. Having it crushed once was enough and I promised myself that I would never allow myself to be vulnerable like I was with Cynda. But, I could still have Hannah in my life, couldn’t I? A girlfriend or wife isn’t an option. However, I’m open to a lover. Wide fucking open. When I look at Hannah, I know I have to be careful, though. She’s young, tempting and could fuck my heart up big-time if I were to be stupid enough to open it up again.
But that isn’t going to happen, though. I can handle a beautiful woman in my bed. Make her my mistress, my lover. I just have to make sure my feelings don’t extend beyond that. Protecting my heart is paramount. I refuse to be made a fool of again by a woman I thought I loved and trusted. No fucking way. It’s not a chance I’ll ever take again.
Hearts, love and all that bullshit are off the table. Sex, fucking and gifts are what I’m thinking. What I can handle.
But, can she?
Hannah’s lips part and a soft breath escapes. Her face looks so soft and at ease while she sleeps. I could watch her forever. I’m not sure what it is about her that draws me in so completely. Her innocence? Her smile? Her beauty? Her intelligence? God knows, she is the full package.
Speaking of packages…
I stifle a groan and flip onto my back, ignoring the way my morning wood tents the sheet. Fuck me. It’s more than that, though. Whether she realizes it or not, Hannah Everson has unleashed a shitload of feelings and sensations in me. Emotions that I thought were long-dead and never to return. To be honest, I’m not sure how I feel about it, either. It scares me, excites me…makes me want to jump up and down and ask her out on a date.
Rolling my head, I look over at her and wonder if she’d like to go to dinner with me. Ten years is a pretty decent age gap, but nothing too crazy, right? I’m only thirty-two not sixty-two. I’m just glad I was able to pay off the money she owed to that asshole Dexter Creed. Now that he has what he wants, there’s no reason he should be sending his goons to harass her any further. She should be completely out of danger.
Hannah’s eyes flutter open a moment later and her baby blues look slightly confused, as if she can’t remember where she is or why I’m here. Then the edge of her mouth lifts in a half-smile.
“Good morning,” I say.
“Good morning.” She stretches like a very satisfied feline and my attention drops to the white negligee. She’s a tiny thing, but her luscious breasts press against the silky material and I force myself to look away. Squeezing my eyes shut, I suppress a groan and try not to picture the light pink, dusk-colored nipples that I just glimpsed. Impossible. The image is forever burned in my mind and my dick flares back to life.
Turning onto my side to hide my raging hard-on, I blurt out, “Can I take you out to dinner tonight?”
Smooth, I mentally chastise myself. Real smooth, idiot.
Surprise flashes across her face. “Really? I mean, yes, I’d like that.” A blush steals over her cheeks.
I love how she gets shy all of a sudden and it takes every bit of my self-control not to drag her over and kiss her senseless. Hell, I’d like to do a lot more than that. I want to part those sweet thighs and kiss her lower lips until her juices cover my mouth and tongue. I want to lick and suck her clit until she’s crying out in pleasure. Then I want to sink my cock deep inside her wet heat and make her come again. Make her scream my name.
Make her all mine. Only mine.
Pulling in a deep, steadying breath, I force myself to calm down. One thing at a time. “How’s six o’clock?” I ask, my voice hoarse with need.
“Good.” She sits up and pulls my jacket up and around her shoulders because it had slipped off. It’s way too big, but I like it on her. Way more than I should.
“Good.” She’s looking at me like she can’t quite believe we’re in bed together. “Go use the bathroom first. Then I’ll drive you home.”
“Okay.” After one last, long look, she slides out of bed and disappears inside the bathroom.
Dropping back, I throw and arm over my head, squeeze my eyes shut and ignore my throbbing dick.
For some reason—a reason I’m trying not to think about too hard—I’m not quite ready to let go of Hannah Everson. And that’s a damn dangerous thing for me.
After we both freshen up quickly, I escort her down to my car. She slides in and I shut the door, make my way around and get into the driver’s side. Hannah gives me an address in Brooklyn and I plug it into the GPS. I’m not sure what I expect, but the closer we get to her place, the more my heart sinks. The neighborhood isn’t great and I don’t like what I’m seeing. I don’t like it at all. The idea of her living in a dirty, crime-ridden neighborhood bothers me. A fucking lot.
“Right there,” she says, pointing to a dumpy brick building.
Gritting my teeth, I pull up alongside the curb and turn the car off. “I’ll walk you up.”
“Are you sure? You don’t have to?—”
“I’m sure,” I insist.
First, I want to check the place out and make sure everything is okay. Especially after she told me how Creed’s man had broken in last night. We walk up to the front door and she opens it without using a key. Just pushes the damn thing open—which means anyone else could do the same.
“Why isn’t there a lock?” I demand.
“Oh, there is. It’s just, ah, broken. Maintenance keeps saying they’ll fix it, but they’re taking their good ol’ time.” She gives me a little shrug and I follow her, not liking that answer at all.
