Going For It (5 page)

“I’ll never forget this moment, Hannah.”
Never.
With that he reached down and played with her clit as he continued to pump in and out of her, unleashing the beast inside him and roaring his climax. From far away he heard Hannah scream his name. They collapsed together on the floor, falling into a tangled embrace, their bodies still shuddering. He kissed her hair, breathing in the scent of candy. Little purrs escaped her lips. He reached down and tapped her nub. Another orgasm hit her—short and hard. He shifted to study her wild and lovely form. Her honeyed hair splayed against the floor. Perfect size C breasts, a slender tummy that swelled to curvy hips made for a man to thrust against. The beauty to his beast. His mate.

He wanted her again. Now.

Forever.

Whoa! Where the hell did that come from?

A great blowjob made men stupid. History was littered with men who gave up their freedom, hell, who fought wars all because they couldn’t separate their cock from their heart. That’s all this was. Tomorrow he’d wake up and be back to Jake Miller, lady-killer.

He shouldn’t take any chances and leave now. Tell her he had to get up early for—whatever. Damn, he couldn’t even think straight. Then Hannah curled up and snuggled against him and his arms automatically wound around her. She sighed with contentment, which filled Jake with an unexpected sense of fulfillment.

Jake lay sprawled on the empty bed. The smell of coffee wafted in but nothing short of Armageddon could get him up. Noises from the kitchen built up his hopes for breakfast in bed.

In the morning light he studied the bedroom. Hannah definitely had a thing for pink. And lace. And sparkling things. But the bed was big and so damn comfortable. Fluffy pillows tossed from the bed last night laid strewn about the room and the soft comforter wrapped around his legs slid along his skin reminding him of Hannah’s touch. The room smelled of her. And of sex. Yeah, it would take Armageddon to get him out of bed. At 6’3” he must look ridiculous laid out on her bed. Or whipped.

Holy shit!

Jake leaned up on his arms and looked about the room.

This is a lair!

A lair belonging to a sexy siren worthy of any mythological story and like Odysseus, Jake would need to be tied to a mast to keep him away from the siren’s song. He half expected a spider web to be spun around him at any moment.

Jake sprung out of bed just to be sure.

He used the bathroom, noting the various potions to lure a man into bed. Perfume, skin cream, and make-up. Pulling on his briefs, then his pants, he escaped to the kitchen where another smell—an unpleasant one invaded his senses.

A grumpy Hannah looked up from a plate of steamed asparagus.

“What the hell?”

“Breakfast of Supermodels. Yum. Yum.” The grimace on her face as she took a bite said it all. “I made you coffee. I’d make you some eggs but I’m afraid I might eat them.” Waving a floppy spear of asparagus in the air she said, “This is all I can eat today. Gets rid of swelly belly.”

“You belly is sexy.”

“The camera doesn’t think so.”

“You don’t take any pills?” He turned to pour a cup of coffee so she wouldn’t see the concern that he knew was etched on his face.

“No! I just get, get…”

“Bitchy,” he risked. Turning back he caught the narrowing of Hannah’s eyes.

“I was going to say cranky.”

Jake threw back his head and laughed.

Hannah took another bite and made a yucky face.

He should keep his mouth shut. They were getting along, laughing together, having mind blowing sex and besides it was none of his business how she ran her life. But he worried about her so he was making it his business. He took the seat across from her. “That’s not healthy.”

“Asparagus is very healthy.”

“You know what I mean. The dieting. You’re starving yourself.”

“Oh, and you keep those 8 pack abs by drinking beer and eating donuts?”

“Food is fuel for the body. When you look at it like that it’s easy to make the right choices.”

“I’ve been making my own choices all by myself for a long time. Besides, I believe in fitness not famine.”

Hannah’s bitchy tone didn’t fool Jake because the pained look in her eyes did not escape his notice. “For how long?”

“Since I was sixteen.”

“What?” Jake nearly shouted. The thought of her so young and alone triggered every protective instinct within him. He calmed and in a gentler tone asked, “Where were your parents?”

“Look, you can just Google it. I’m sure all the sordid details are still there.”

“I’d rather hear it from you.”

The doorbell rang. “That must be my yoga instructor. Can you answer the door so I can get ready?”

“Sure, but this talk isn’t over.”

Opening the door halfway to a good-looking guy holding a mat, Jake leaned his arm against the doorframe like he owned the place. Glad he was still shirtless, he made sure to flex a muscle to intimidate the instructor. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here for Hannah’s lesson.”

Jake opened the door the rest of the way to let him in. He hated how the guy knew his way around Hannah’s living room. His fists tightened wondering if he knew the bedroom as well.

Hannah came bounding out wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt. “Thanks Jake.”

“I’m gonna hit the shower.”
A long shower.
He’d learned long ago to take himself out of situations that would trigger his temper. But there was no way he was leaving this apartment.

All dressed, Jake left the bedroom to see the ‘instructors’ hands on Hannah’s hips, fingertips away from her curvy ass as she bent over into a carnal position that only
HE
should be putting her in. The muscle in his jaw twitched. Needing every anger management skill he learned he calmed himself with a deep breath.

Still, he probably would have said something, hell he probably would’ve punched something, but Hannah jumped up from the pose and ran over and kissed him with the same wild abandon she showed last night on the red carpet. He gladly returned it, claiming her in front of Mr. Tight Pants. “See you tonight?”

“I need my beauty sleep for the shoot tomorrow and I won’t get much sleep if you’re here.” Hannah giggled.

The yoga instructor cleared his throat.

“I’ll be right back.” Hannah walked Jake to the door.

“Tomorrow night then. Say 7:00?”

“Yes, but dinner first. I’m going to eat the world tomorrow.”

Jake kissed her goodbye but before he closed the door he asked, “Would it be Medieval of me to ask that you switch to a female yoga instructor?” He hated himself for showing any sign of weakness. It would be wiser to stay away from the woman who made his blood burn, but he was too captivated by her to do anything about it. The siren had him well and truly snared.

“Because you actually asked, no it wouldn’t be.” Hannah closed the door leaving him wondering if she would or not.

H
annah closed the door with a smile and almost skipped into the living room where the dour face of Raphael stopped her dead. “What?”

“He told you to get rid of me, didn’t he?”

“Of course, he’s not an idiot. And for your information he asked.”

“He’s no good for you. Once the season starts he’ll go back to his groupies when you’re not around.”

Hannah had the same thought but that didn’t mean she would let Raphael bad mouth Jake. “And you’re any better? Don’t think I don’t know how you hit it and quit it.” The instructor looked away as she continued. “And that you’ve been biding your time until you made your move or I made mine.”

Raphael rolled up his mat. “Yet you kept me around.”

One of her model friends recommended Raphael as a cure all to getting over an ex, but despite his pretty boy looks, long locks that a rock star would be jealous of, and the lithe body of a yogi, his touch did nothing to her insides. Not even a spark. Nothing. “Only because it amused me.” And because she hoped her feelings would change.

“You’re heartless.”

Hannah disagreed. She had a heart, only it belonged to Jake.
What?

No, no, no she wasn’t it love. No way. Impossible. It was just the afterglow of nuclear hot sex and now she was experiencing a meltdown. “Yes, so you see there’s no need to worry about whether Jake is good for me or not.”

“All men are weak when it comes to the opposite sex,” said Raphael. He strode to the door but turned back before shutting it, “Even me. So when he breaks your heart you have my number.”

Hannah would feel a smidgen of guilt for how she treated Raphael if she didn’t know what a player he was. His comments about Jake were merely sour grapes. She resumed her yoga workout since she had an hour to kill until the Pilates instructor showed up. After that an hour on the treadmill since running the streets of NYC invited the paparazzi to harass her. It took an army of personal trainers, assistants, and skin care specialists to keep Hannah Hahn supermodel ready. It was a full-time job especially as she’d gotten older, but she didn’t mind. How could she? Money. Travel. Fame. Men. Until seven months ago that is. Now she only wanted one.

Coming out the Salamba Sirsasana pose she eased to the floor and stared at the ceiling. Even yoga couldn’t quiet her mind. Raphael was right. Expecting a normal male to stay monogamous was an act of faith, but football players?—an act of lunacy. As long as she kept that in that back of her head, her heart would remain safe. She’d enjoy the sex and when it was over, it was over. Who knows maybe she’d be the one to get bored first. That was her M.O. But those men didn’t compare to Jake. Not even close.

The phone rang. Not planning to answer the phone since she’d rather brood, her mood lifted immediately when the caller id flashed. Samantha? She pushed the speaker and teased, “Honeymoon over already?”

“Ha, ha. Ryan is convalescing,” bragged Samantha.

“You go girl.” Hannah flounced onto the comfy white couch.

“Never mind me. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” said Hannah. Samantha and Ryan had waited along time to be together and she wouldn’t worry her with any drama—at least not on her honeymoon.

“I saw the twitter photo.”

“You follow me?”

“Don’t evade. Spill!”

So Hannah did. “We’ll see how long it lasts this time.”

“Oh Hannah, don’t lead him on.”

Taken aback she asked, “Lead him on?”

“If you saw what a big mope he was without you, you’d understand. He was pathetic.”

Hannah heard a clearing of a throat clear across the phone line from Ireland. Ryan.

“Uh-oh, you’re giving away top secret guy information.”

“It’s no secret that Jake is half in love with you.”

“Yeah, the half with his penis.”

Samantha laughed, but said, “If the penis loves you then the heart will soon follow. Then sometime after that, his brain will realize it. It’s a complicated process.”

Hannah may not have the faith, but a small bit of hope welled up inside her.

Samantha pressed the end key and turned to face her husband. Lounging against the numerous pillows in the enormous canopy bed and bedding colored in a rich maroon, Ryan looked like the Lord of Castle Durrow.

“Convalescing, am I?”

‘You mean you’re ready for more?” Samantha climbed up onto the bed.

“Hell, yeah. Gotta get it in now. When we get back it’s straight to training camp for me.”

At some point they were going to have to actually leave the room and explore the castle and the grounds.
At some point.

Hannah waited impatiently for the lights to be reset. She needed to eat and hydrate, but more than that she needed Jake. She missed his large body taking up the whole bed while he slept. She missed the deep, silken voice that made her want to lose her clothes. Pronto. And that sexy smile that promised wicked, wicked things.

Her phone vibrated in the pocket of the robe that covered her up while she waited for the shoot to resume. With lightning speed she answered it. “Jake?”

“What are you wearing?”

Tingles of excitement lit up her body. “That’s top secret.”

“Tell me now, kill me later.”

Hannah laughed. “Just my uniform, a bra and panties.”

“Nothing on you is just anything.”

“Well…” She teased. “I’m wearing push-up bra in a deep blue, almost purple color with a black lace design sewn over it.”

“And the panties?”

Oh boy, it was a good thing she got to keep them. Hannah rubbed her legs together to ease the growing ache. “Cut low with a black lace bow.”

“A bow I can pull open like a present?”

“Jake,” she breathed into the phone.

“Well?”

“Maybe.”

“Such a tease.”

“Look who’s talking?”

“Do I get a sneak preview when you come home?”

Home? He made it sound like he belonged there. “You’ll have to wait and see.” She heard her named called. “I’m needed back on set.”

“When you’re posing Hannah, think of me. Think of me sliding down the bra strap, leaving little kisses behind and—”

“Oh, that is so not fair.”

“See ya tonight, baby doll.”

Hannah slipped off the robe and sashayed over to her mark like she was on the runaway. She was going to rock the rest of this shoot. Sending smoldering looks to the camera her inner vixen clawed out of hiding.

“Wow, I’m surprised the lens didn’t catch fire. Must be that football player you’re dating,” teased Michael.

Michael was one of her favorite photographers. He loved the female form and not in a sexual way. For him, she knew, it was all about the art.

“Must be.”

He’d been the first to shoot her after a harrowing experience with a photographer who preyed upon young and naïve models, with promises to make them famous. All the more harrowing because her mother demanded Hannah do as the man said and strip off her clothes. “It’s Paris, Hannah, it’s okay here.” It didn’t feel okay. She’d been fifteen.

Michael sensed her fear and the reason behind it. He advised her and gave her tools to handle herself in the future. Then he threatened her mother with Child Protective Services.