Authors: Violet Walker
T
hey got back as Henry was finishing up, bringing up takeaway cartons of breakfast from downstairs. The doors were thin, and as they approached, they heard him ending a phone call.
“How much for a half and half? No, that’s fine. I’m just glad you’re in town. Eleven o’clock okay? Great, great.” His voice was warm and easy, as if he was speaking to a friend. Anna knocked, smiling, her face still flushed from the embrace she had shared with the man walking behind her.
“Oops, gotta go. See you then.” He walked to the door and opened it.
“Hi!” she said, looking up at Henry adoringly. “We brought breakfast!”
Henry glanced from her face to the food to James, to the window again, to his phone. Then back to her. “Oh great, I’m starved. Come on in, guys, I’m done.”
They were all starved after their ordeal, and the brimming cartons of scrambled eggs, hash browns, sausage patties and fruit salad all vanished in short order. “So did you get in touch with Toby?”
“Yeah,” Henry mumbled distractedly as he poked at the last of his eggs. “He caught a cold, poor guy. He’s trying not to give it to his Mom. But they’re happy they’re getting the house fixed.”
“Oh good.” She offered Henry a smile, but he had looked out the window again already. Anna blinked in confusion, a little hurt.
James went off to the bar around five to bend an elbow and socialize, and Anna took the opportunity to catch Henry alone. She closed the door behind her with a smile, and he looked up from his desk distractedly. He had been typing some long document on his laptop, but he saved and quit when she came in.
“Hey there,” she said warmly. She glanced at the laptop. “Hey, do you have work you need help with?”
“No, not this. It’s...it’s pretty private.” His smile looked strangely forced. He came over and brushed a hand through her hair, then hugged her lightly. She went up on her toes, hugging back, pressing against him affectionately. That thrill went through her again, as if what she was doing was slightly dangerous, and she nestled against him, practically purring.
“Well then.” She beamed up at him. “Got anything else you want to spend the afternoon doing?”
Like me?
He kissed her intensely, pulling her hard against him. But after a moment, it was as if he tired physically and the intensity ebbed away. He hugged her, chin propped on her head. “I’d love to. But I got some news today I have to deal with. Medical stuff. Lots of paperwork.”
He had mentioned talking to his doctor, and she felt a jolt of alarm. “You didn’t get bad news, I hope?”
He hesitated but then he simply smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing I wasn’t expecting. The timing just sucks, and it leaves me with lots of paper to deal with. I might need your help with some of it later. I’ll let you know.”
He shooed her out gently, leaving her standing, confused, in the hallway. Finally she sighed and went down to the cafe on the first floor to have dinner.
She loved Henry. He was wonderful, big-hearted, he did great things, and he made her laugh. He was exciting and sensual and so very amazing in bed. She knew he never dated seriously, and he had never once actually told her that he loved her. They just ended up making love and been affectionate with each other. That was it. And though it meant everything to her, she had no idea what it meant to him. Since they had come back from their interlude at the snowed-in farmhouse, he had seemed...distant. As if he might think the whole thing had been a mistake.
Then there was James. She thought of him and the light in his eyes when he looked at her, and his devotion and how he had proven already that he would do anything to protect her. The only thing that had ever been missing was that giddy feeling. But remembering those moments in his arms after receiving the bracelet that still hung from her wrist, she felt that slow, sweet warmth run through her, and knew that there was something there, too.
James. James would die before he hurt her.
Henry...she sometimes wasn’t so sure of.
She realized she was brooding over a cooling hamburger and got a to-go box, then went up to her room, suddenly exhausted. She hadn’t slept properly in days, aside from a truly awesome post-sex nap that morning. Now the afterglow was gone, and Henry was shut up in his room doing paperwork he didn’t want to talk about. She took a long shower, changed into the pale pink silk nightgown she’d bought before the shops started closing up, and curled up to sleep for a while.
She woke to the wind whistling and full dark outside, and looked at her phone for the time. 11:30. She had slept for over six hours. She felt better for it...but now that the exhaustion was at bay, her body made her aware of other cravings.
Henry.
That glorious night and morning together came back in gorgeous detail, and she shivered, running her hand down her own side through the silk as she remembered. His smile...his hands...his mouth. The way he had gasped with pleasure as he had thrust into her. He had called out her name at climax, his voice transformed by ecstasy. He made her feel so good.
She got up, taking her key, and stole into the hallway, pausing briefly at James’s door. The light wasn’t on under it; he was probably still at the bar. She shrugged and hurried upstairs, her smile growing as she went.
I bet he’s finished with his work by now. And I’m sure he’d love some company.
She practically ran down the hall toward his door. But as she got there, she heard something coming from behind the door that made her pause. His voice, low and deep and breathless.
“That’s good. Jesus, that’s
good
.”
Anna paused, a shock like ice water jolting through her veins.
What?
Henry groaned, the sound lascivious and blatantly sexual. She heard a woman’s low, muffled chuckle. He went on, gasping out the words. “Just like that...yeah...yeah...oh God, you have the
best
tongue.” His voice shook.
Her heartbeat banging in her temples, Anna felt her whole body go cold and numb as she listened. Her mind protested
but we just got together
and her ears countered with that now familiar sound of Henry’s low, panting cries starting a slow spiral up toward climax.
“Ah...ahhhh...ahh, God, baby I’m so glad you were in town tonight! Ah...wait, wait...wait. Hold off,” he sighed. “Hold off.”
Anna stared at the door, something cold and barbed clawing away at her heart as she heard him talking quietly and sensually with a woman. A woman he knew, a woman who was not her. A woman she hadn’t known about, if that even mattered.
“There...no, take the whole thing off.”
“Okay. Like this? Here. Bet you’d like me bent over.”
“You bet your sweet ass. Speaking of which….”
Creak of bedsprings. Anna let out a soft sob.
Henry grunted and let out a low groan, and the woman gasped. Then the rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh started, going on and on and on.
Last night...was just fun to him. It meant nothing.
I mean nothing.
Blinded by tears, Anna turned and ran. No shoes, no coat, not even a robe over her gown. The bracelet rattled on her wrist as she bolted downstairs and into the deserted lobby, headed straight for the front door. Then out of it, into the snow.
The cold stung. The storm had abated for the moment, moon shining down through rags of cloud. She ran down the street, not knowing where she was going, only thinking that maybe the cold could numb the pain digging its way through her chest. The Christmas lights on the buildings gave the only color in the landscape; they blurred into bright streaks as she hurried past. Their cheeriness only made things seem worse, somehow.
She ran the first block; stumbled the second; finally fell to her knees on the deserted, snowy sidewalk and sat there, numb.
Henry...I love you...why? Why doesn’t it mean anything to you?
She was good enough to sleep with, apparently, but not good enough to love. Not even enough to give her a few days before moving on to the next piece of ass.
She sobbed, wrecked inside, arms around herself. Her weeping cries bounced off the empty buildings, unheard by anyone.
He used me. It was never special to him, not for a moment.
The cold pressed down on her, first hurting, then making her teeth chatter, and then slowly starting to make her sleepy. In the back of her head, she knew what that meant. In the back of her head, she knew that even if Henry didn't care at all, there were still people who would be very upset if she kept sitting out here instead of going back inside. But the rest of her felt locked in a silent scream of betrayal and anguish.
Her head lowered.
Maybe it's better this way.
B
ooted feet ran toward her through the snow.
No, let me be
she thought, but a man’s voice, harsh with anguish, called her name. Again. “Anna!”
James.
She squeezed her eyes shut as he skidded to a crouch over her and scooped her up against his chest.
“Oh God, Baby, no, why are you out here like this?” She whimpered in response, and he simply stood and started plowing through the snow, carrying her back to the hotel.
She grayed out on the way up the stairs, her eyelids heavy, but he kept shaking her awake. “No, no, come on, stay with me. Don’t quit on me.” He held her one-armed as he opened his door, easily, shocking her a little. His chest was hot against her cheek, and she realized that he had taken off his jacket and outer shirt and wrapped them around her upon finding her.
When she came back to full consciousness she was naked and wrapped in a down comforter, the nightgown was drying by the radiator. James sat on the hotel couch next to her, propping her up while he held a mug of hot tea for her. She sipped at it, and felt it go down like lava before spreading out into a comforting warmth.
“Just drink,” he murmured. “Don’t try to talk.” He sounded relieved.
She obeyed, and eventually her hands were warm enough for her to grasp the mug and drink without help. He stayed there, running one big, calloused hand through her hair as he held her. His heart beat fast against her when she laid her head on his chest, and he didn’t budge until it was time to refill for her mug.
When he returned he sat at her feet, holding out the mug for her to take. His eyes held a mixture of tenderness, worry and anger. He took one of her feet in his hands and examined it, then started rubbing her vigorously from calf to toes, forcing sensation back into her feet and lower legs. It stung and burned, making her gasp, but he didn’t let up. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I have to get your circulation going.”
She drank the second mugful of tea to distract herself from the sensation in her feet, and then quietly set the mug aside on the coffee table. She rubbed her face, which stung a bit too, and sighed.
He finished rubbing her feet, and sat back, watching her. “What happened?” he asked softly. “If I hadn’t been coming home from the bar just then, chances are nobody would have found you until--” His voice caught. “After dawn.”
She looked up at him.
I made a terrible mistake
, she wanted to tell him. She had picked the wrong one of them, because her heart was a fickle, stupid, deluded thing and the chance had been there.
I made a mistake and then I paid for it. And then after that...I guess I went a little crazy.
“I’m so goddamn stupid,” she whispered, and started to sob.
“Hey, whoah...what the Hell, sweetheart?” He slid over and scooped the whole comforter-wrapped bundle of her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her. “Stop that. No you’re not.”
She buried her face in his shoulder and wept like her insides were thawing out through her eyes. Cold tears ran down her cheeks, and she clung to him, her fingers caught in the fabric of his shirt. He cradled her carefully, as if worried she might fall apart physically as well as emotionally.
When she could finally calm herself, she lifted her head and he whispered gently, “Come on. Tell me. What happened? Did someone hurt you? I’ll fucking kill them if they did.”
She looked at him, at the flash of his pale eyes, and knew he was deadly serious. She couldn’t say she much minded because
oh God
it was better to have someone willing to kill to protect you than someone who forgot about you the moment that you left the room.
But the practical part of her that dealt with crises best was telling her that she had better discourage him, and fast. “James, don’t. It’s not worth the trouble. Please.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s...I...it’s Henry, and we kind of both need him, so you probably shouldn’t g-go after him.” It was true. Without Henry neither of them would have jobs, and since James was an ex-con depending on Henry’s lawyers to help him get back custody of his son, he’d be in worse trouble than she.
He stiffened. “Henry? What the Hell--what did the Boss do?”
She stared back at him, and her lips started trembling. She looked down, terribly ashamed.
He watched her, chest heaving. “Did he fire you?”
“No.” She swallowed hard. “I wish it was that straightforward.”
The realization hit him slowly, by degrees, eyebrows going up and horror filling his expression. He sucked air and spoke in a rapid mutter. “I knew you were sweet on him. It’s why I never did or said a thing, much as I wanted to.” His voice was soft but there was a little edge of anger and disbelief under it. “What did he do? Did he break your heart?”
She swallowed, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “I...he...he
used
me, James. He….”
He took my love and trust and joy and moved on the moment he could.
“He used me.”
He started shaking, fury flashing in his eyes. “That son of a whore,” he growled. “What, is he crazy? Girls like you are one in a goddamn million. I’ll kill him!
I really will go over there right now and--”
“No, James!” She half-turned, putting her hand on his chest and rubbing it gently, trying to soothe him. “You can’t. You’ll end up back in jail. Don’t do it.”
His shaking slowed, and his eyes went back from the door to her face. The fury slowly drained out of them as she petted him and gently pled.
“Don’t confront him. Not tonight.” She couldn’t think straight, he couldn't think straight, and in the end, it was she who had to confront Henry. “Stay here with me. Please, just stay here with me.” She reached up and brushed her fingers over the side of his face.
His eyes hooded and he caught her hand, gently turning it over and pressing a kiss into her palm. It was a small gesture, save for the desperate adoration in his expression...and the flood of warmth that ran through her at the touch of his lips.
...Oh.
They stared at each other in a moment that stretched out and out, and the pain Henry caused her seemed to drift apart from her a little as she drank in the quiet warmth in James’s eyes. He had been so patient. He had waited on the sidelines while she made a mess of herself with Henry, because it was her life and what she wanted. But he had been there the whole time, a tough man who found himself softening a little whenever she was around. And Anna, who had never loved and found it returned in equal measure, who had been alone for so very long, realized that the difference between that giddy delight she had felt with Henry and the growing, tender heat she felt with James was the difference between a crush and something real.
She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his, shyly, almost like an apology. He made a soft sound, and his hand slipped up through her hair and caught the back of her head, cradling it gently as he returned the kiss with that same delicacy. His breath shivered against her lips, and she could feel him restraining himself, every muscle tight as he touched her as if she was made of soap bubbles. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders, trying to calm him, trying to reassure him that it was all right; that she was with him now, and her heart, bruised as it was, was slowly freeing itself from bondage to another man.
The room had gone quiet; they had run out of words. Outside snowflakes softly tapped the window, while inside they gently broke the ice between them. Slowly he relaxed against her, his lips moving more intensely over hers and his hands starting to explore her shape through the comforter. She smiled and let it fall open a little, so that his hand slid across skin where he was expecting cloth, at the top of one of her breasts.
He sucked air and paused, then nuzzled at her throat as his trembling hand slid lower, vanishing under the edge of the comforter. He cupped her breast gently as he kissed her, a low rumble like a purr escaping his chest as he ran his big, rough hand so softly against her sensitive skin. She gasped and kissed him roughly and felt him respond, tongue darting against hers as he rubbed and kneaded her breast.
She let the comforter fall open further, fingers in his hair as he kissed his way lower until he took her hardened nipple into his mouth.
He suckled delicately while she moaned and held him, head falling back, glad for the one strong arm holding her or she might have fallen off the couch. She shifted positions, kicking free of the comforter enough to straddle him while he gently ran his tongue and lips over her breast with low gasps and tremors of desire. Still restraining himself. It made her melt as much as his caresses; he could have thrown her on the floor, torn away the comforter and ravaged her with all his strength, but instead, this tenderness which soft-handed Henry had never matched.
She let the comforter fall back off her shoulders, and he groaned softly and pulled her against him, burying his face between her breasts. His body relaxed against hers even as his mouth grew frantic, kissing and nuzzling and nibbling softly, then more and more intensely, until she squirmed against him and started to beg. “Don't stop...Oh please, don't stop….”
He smiled against her skin, and didn’t stop, even when her breath came in tiny gasps and both her nipples were so hard they hurt.
When he finally did, it was only to lift her, off his lap and into his arms, across the room to where his bed laid waiting. She settled into the featherbed, and he took off his boots and climbed to crouch over her. His eyes were heavy-lidded with lust, and his breath shuddered in his throat as he looked down at her. The longing that had haunted his expression for so long when he looked at her was slowly changing to a quiet joy. He pulled the comforter aside to look at her...and then sighed happily and bent down to kiss her.
She slid her hands up under his shirt, up his hard, rippled belly that shivered under her touch, and then helped him out of the thin cloth and arched up to rub herself against him. He caught her in his arms and buried his face in her neck, running teeth and tongue over her pulse.
Time seemed to blur as they explored each other with trembling hands and eager mouths, only little whispers and sounds of pleasure breaking the quiet. His hand worked between her legs and stroked her firmly as he tongued and kissed her nipples; she gasped and sobbed, feeling herself start to go frantic under him. She reached up and traced the bulge in his jeans with her fingertips, then ran her nails over him through the cloth. He grunted and raised his head, eyes feverish. She nuzzled his cheek, then unbuttoned his fly and dragged the zipper down. “Come on...you’ve waited long enough.”
So have I.
A brief grin lit his face and he sat back to shuck the jeans and free himself. She felt his smooth, throbbing length against her thigh, and he took it in hand and rubbed its head against her sex. She parted her legs further and then wrapped them around him as he descended on her.
He was thick, hurting her deliciously, as he sank in. A hard, trembling groan pushed out of him as he entered. She looked up and saw the bliss in his expression, and her heart filled with warmth, no room left for pain anymore.
“Anna,” he breathed, and then slowly started moving.
He rolled his hips slowly, propped on his elbows with his body pushing hers deliciously into the featherbed. His mouth stayed soft and tender on her, roaming from lips to ears to neck and back again. She cradled him, hands caressing his back and brushing through his short hair, while she lifted her hips to meet his.
The iron control that had kept his longing and frustration in check for months now held his lust in check instead; he took his time with her, only picking up his pace very gradually. The slow ride of his hips against her bought them time to savor this first time together. It was the opposite of what she had expected, and that made her wonder: he looked rough, talked rough but he had always been so gentle with her. That more than anything relaxed and aroused her so that she could forget the pain and the cold outside the room and simply be with him.
Sometimes he shifted them so that she lay over him instead, his hips lifting into her as she straddled him and slowly rocked. Sometimes they rolled back over again. But as the sensations started to run hot through both their bodies, he pulled her up to straddle his lap as he crouched under her, grinding against her tirelessly. She felt the pleasure building in a slow wave inside of her, and squirmed against him, shivering and gasping. He grunted in delighted response to her passion and drove into her more roughly.