By Appointment Only (8 page)

Now both doctors were eyeing her like a particularly interesting case study. Dr. Pat actually came back to the circle and resumed his original seat. He leaned forward. “Would you say that this particular lesson governs your actions in the present?”

Before Hannah could answer, Rachelle frowned slightly and spoke. “I guess I always thought that was true of everyone. The people who can really get to us or make us feel bad are the closest ones to us in our lives. Like when my mom said she was disappointed in me for getting pregnant. I waited until I married Timmy to have sex with him. It’s not like I was an unwed mother. So it really hurt me a lot when she said that.”

Danita winced. “Moms make mistakes, honey. I’m sure she didn’t really mean that. Not when she had time to think about it.”

Dr. Pat leaned back now, his gaze filled with interest as he monitored the conversation. “Again, Rachelle, you’ve hit the nail on the head. So I’ll repeat my question to Hannah. Do you think you allow that lesson you’ve learned to govern your actions in the present?”

Hannah was no closer now to having a profound answer than she was two minutes ago. “Well . . . I think it’s possible that I do.” She was extremely aware of Morgan’s presence at her side. What was he thinking?

Dr. Sheila joined the interrogation. “Would you say that your fear causes you any problems?”

It was Hannah’s turn to frown. “I didn’t call it a fear . . . did I?”

The other woman smiled faintly. “We’re all afraid of getting hurt. It’s a natural human emotion. But in some of us, it’s closer to the surface, particularly if we’ve experienced hurt in the past.”

Hannah cocked her head, her gaze drifting from one member of the group to the next. “No,” she said, her voice a bit louder than she intended. “I can’t see that it causes me any problems.”

Dr. Pat glanced at his watch again. “Thank you, Hannah, and all of you for being so willing to participate in this first group session. Sheila and I have enjoyed getting to know you a bit better, and we look forward to working with you over the next two weeks. Don’t forget to watch your e-mail Sunday afternoon for the questionnaires, and if you parked in the main garage next door, Sheila will validate your parking stubs. Have a nice weekend.”

Morgan drove on autopilot, his brain whirling with a thousand thoughts and emotions. Tonight was more than he had expected, but in a good way. And the group dynamic helped take the pressure off of him and Hannah.

Having the different ages and viewpoints was an inspired idea. The doctors weren’t bad eggs, a little pretentious, but not bad. And they sure seemed to love their work.

He had no clue whether Hannah had enjoyed the evening or not. She’d barely uttered two words since they got in the car. Once they were in her driveway, he shut off the engine. He’d brought an overnight bag. It was their custom on the weekends. But he didn’t want to crowd her. So he sat quietly, waiting for Hannah to make the next move.

She sighed and turned to open her door. Then she stopped and faced him once again. “Did I sound like a complete idiot?” Her words were quiet . . . filled with wry self-deprecation.

He reached his arm across the back of her seat and played with her hair. She’d worn it down tonight, thick and glossy and incredibly sexy. “Of course not.”

She stared out the windshield, her profile lit by the streetlights. “I liked the other two couples.”

As he let his fingertips brush the nape of her neck, he saw her shiver, and he smiled. “I did, too.”

“Timmy and Rachelle are awfully young to have a baby. I can’t imagine having so much responsibility at that age. No wonder her parents are worried.”

Morgan sensed an opening for the question he had wanted to ask her for a long time now. “Have you ever thought about having kids?” he asked softly, monitoring the expression on her face.

He saw her teeth nibble at her bottom lip, but she didn’t seem freaked out by the idea. She shook her head. “Not really. I’m not sure I have what it takes.”

He traced the top of her spine. “Of course you do. Seniors and children have some of the same needs . . . love, companionship, safety, laughter. You have a lot to give, Hannah.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe.”

It disappointed him that she was so uninterested in the subject. A lot of women tended to get all mushy and dreamy eyed when they thought about babies. But Hannah was rarely sentimental about things like that, so he probably shouldn’t have been surprised by her marked lack of enthusiasm for the idea.

He tugged at her earlobe. “I’ve missed you this week,” he said softly. He pulled her toward him, and it pleased him when she didn’t resist.

As he scooted her across the gearshift and into his lap, she giggled. “I have a nice bed upstairs, Morgan.”

He kissed her forehead, her nose, her chin. “I’m weak from sexual deprivation,” he muttered. “I don’t think I have the strength to make it that far.”

He palmed her breast and toyed with the nipple. Hannah was slender, but her curves were full and firm. Her head fell back against his shoulder, and her eyes closed. A tiny smile curved her mouth.

He slid his hand beneath her silky blouse and under the edge of her bra. Every time he touched her he marveled that skin could be so soft. His cock was so hard, she had to feel it under her hip.

He bent over her and kissed her, slipping his tongue between her lips and stroking the inside of her mouth. She went rigid, and the nipple beneath his fingertip swelled and hardened.

“Hannah, Hannah, Hannah . . .” He cursed himself suddenly for starting something they couldn’t finish. Even if he wanted to challenge the logistics of sex in a small car, they were in full view of anyone strolling by on the sidewalk. She was wearing a plain khaki skirt, and it took nothing at all for him to locate her skimpy panties and drag them down her legs.

Now he could touch her intimately, and he dragged his fingers through the tiny fluff of curls at her sex. She was wet and warm, and the scent of her arousal permeated the confines of the car.

He looked out the window, gauging the degree of privacy they had at the moment. Across the street two preteens on bikes careened by. At the corner an old man waited for a bus.

Even as Morgan toyed with Hannah’s most intimate secrets, a patrol car appeared at the end of the street, cruising slowly, checking out the neighborhood.

With a groan of sheer frustration, Morgan released her. “Get out of the car, Hannah. Before we get arrested.”

She moved back to her own seat, but she stared at him with a look of mischief on her face. “Too bad you’re such a model citizen. I was hoping to give you a blow job.”

He ground his teeth. “Upstairs, please.”

She pouted. “No. Now. If you really want it.”

He glanced at the patrol car. He glanced at Hannah. Her lips were red and moist and the thought of them wrapped around his boner made him shudder.

He swallowed the gravel in his throat. “Okay. Fine. But hurry.”

She waited until they saw the cop speak to the two young boys across the street. Then she bent at the waist and put her head in his lap. He helped her open his pants and free his penis. “This is stupidly insane,” he muttered. But knowing it and stopping were two different things.

He kept his gaze on the police vehicle as Hannah took him in her hands and then pulled him deep into her mouth. His fingers clenched on the steering wheel. Sweet Jesus. She sucked him like a Popsicle, tugging at his shaft with a firm pressure until his balls drew up tight against his body and he gasped. “Wait. Stop. He’s looking this way.”

She ignored him completely. Morgan started to shake. Sweat dripped from his chin. The night air was muggy and humid, and they had the windows rolled up. He felt his climax bearing down and tried to will it back. What if the cop decided to get out of his car? What if he caught the two of them engaging in lewd sex acts on a public street and issued a citation. What if . . .

He cursed and flexed his hips as he came violently, trying desperately not to move, trying in vain to keep his eyes on the nearby car. But his body betrayed him, and his eyes rolled back in his head as he got lost in the intensity of his release.

When he finally returned to the present, Hannah sat demurely in her seat, smiling at him with a naughty grin. Thankfully, the law-enforcement vehicle had moved off down the street.

He took in a ragged lungful of air. “
Now
can we go to your bedroom? Please.”

Hannah was ready for Morgan to take her hard and fast. Playing with him in the car had made her hot in more ways than one. They didn’t waste time when they got in the house. He locked the door, she tossed her pocketbook on a chair, and then they raced up the steps like children, laughing and teasing each other until they landed breathlessly just inside her bedroom door.

She sprawled on the bed, assuming an entirely unladylike position that reminded him she wasn’t wearing any panties. “Come and get me, big guy.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “What’s your hurry?” he asked, his voice bland.

She frowned. “Some of us are still waiting.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “For what?”

“You
know
what.”

He sniffed his armpit. “I need a shower. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Her mouth fell open. “I don’t care if you’re all man smelly. I need to get laid. Now.” Her body was humming with arousal. Making Morgan come had seriously revved her engine, not to mention having him toy with her so intimately before that.

He had already turned his back on her. “You could join me.”

Sadly, her shower had been built for utility and not foreplay. One adult was a tight squeeze. Two was physically impossible. Morgan disappeared and she heard him turn on the water.

But there was more than one way to skin a cat, as her Grammy used to say. Hannah stripped off what clothing she had left and walked into the bathroom. The shower stall had a clear glass door, so Morgan saw her the moment she walked in. But she ignored him.

She pinned up her hair and then went to the sink, took a washcloth, wet it, and rubbed it with soap. Slowly, she washed her arms from wrist to shoulder. Then she rubbed her breasts one at a time. The coarse washcloth rasped her sensitive nipples, and she shivered.

Still, the water in the shower continued to run. She leaned her butt against the counter and lifted one leg to rest it on the small vanity stool. Carefully, she washed each leg from ankle to thigh, and then she rubbed between her legs. The double stimulation of her own caress and the knowledge that Morgan was watching almost made her come.

She moved the rag back and forth, pausing to separate the folds of her sex and rub into every crevice. Her breathing was jerky now, her hands unsteady.

At last, thank God, Morgan turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. His erection reared against his abdomen, thick and long, as though he hadn’t come only minutes before.

He didn’t bother with drying off. He crossed the small distance between them, put his hands on her waist, and lifted her onto his cock. He turned them so that
his
ass was now braced on the counter. Then he thrust upward in one powerful stroke that pushed him as far as she could take him in this position. Despite the fact that she had been wet and ready, her body strained to accept his girth.

She put her hands on his shoulders, her voice lost. She rested her forehead on his collarbone as he pumped in slow, shallow movements that must have strained the muscles in his arms to the breaking point.

She wanted to say something. Maybe to beg . . . to cajole. But it was all she could do to stave off the coming tidal wave. She wanted to make it last. To savor the delicious sensation of being stretched and filled.

His hands were clenched on her ass, supporting her, moving her to suit his whims. Her hands were linked behind his neck, her breasts flattened on his chest. She squeezed his penis with a deliberate flexing of her vaginal muscles. Morgan groaned and staggered sideways.

Then with a muffled gasp, he hitched her up in his arms enough to get his balance and strode into the bedroom. He tumbled them both onto the mattress, never allowing their bodies to separate.

The force of him coming down of top of her drove him even deeper into her aching passage, and she whimpered as splinters of fiery-hot pleasure spread from her womb throughout her abdomen in endless ripples of heat.

In the aftermath, she could hear her heart beating in her ears. She swallowed against a dry throat. “Nicely done, Mr. Webber.”

He wheezed and coughed as he rolled to his back. His cheekbones were ruddy with color, and his hair was standing in little spiky clumps where she had grabbed handfuls of it at a critical moment. His broad chest rose and fell as he tried to get his breath.

He turned his head to look at her, his blue eyes slumberous and dark. “I won’t ever get tired of making love to you, Hannah. I’ve never experienced with anyone else what I feel when I’m with you.”

She’d been expecting one of his smartass teasing comments. She loved his wicked sense of humor and their sexual banter. But the solemn gravity of his words took her completely by surprise. And she hated being surprised. She didn’t know what to say. How could she put into words what he made her feel? It would be like trying to describe the Grand Canyon to a blind person.

She curled into his side, her right hand resting over his heart. Surely he could understand how she felt. She was wearing his ring. That said something, didn’t it?

The opportunity for a lighthearted reply on her part passed, and now they were left with an awkward silence. Finally he sighed and stroked her back. “It’s not all that late. We could watch a movie if you want.”

Suddenly she was exhausted from the emotional roller coaster of the evening. She yawned and wriggled sideways to pull the covers over them. “Do you mind if we just go to sleep?”