The Country Guesthouse (Sullivan's Crossing #5)(34)

“Almost perfect,” she said. “I’m on the pill and it’s served me well.” She pulled his face down to hers and kissed him while her hands roved all over his back and butt. He was so beautifully put together, his muscles long and lean, his male butt solid and round.

He pampered one nipple, then the other, then licked his way down her stomach again, this time not stopping until he reached the center of her body. He spread her legs and briefly buried himself in her soft flesh, his tongue torturing her. Her fingers were in his hair, gently massaging his scalp. Thankfully he didn’t waste a lot of time because she was struggling. He came back to her lips and whispered against them.

“Anything you want,” he said. “Anything.”

“I want you inside me.”

“Thank God,” he said, immediately sliding into her. He pinched his eyes closed and was still a moment, then began to move. She moved with him, clutching him tightly to her. She whimpered slightly, reaching for that moment. Her legs came around his waist and he grabbed her butt, pounding into her with hard strokes, pressing into her, reaching deeply.

She had a powerful, blinding climax in his arms. He opened his eyes, looking down at her. She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip, riding it out. “Honey,” he whispered. “Hannah.” Then, unable to wait her out, he pumped a few short times and exploded with her.

When he stopped panting, he covered her lips with short kisses, leaning on his elbows to keep his weight off her.

“I hope that was okay,” he said in a rough whisper. “Because I think after that one time, I’m addicted.”

She laughed softly. “It was very good,” she said. “Can you do that again?”

“In a little while,” he promised. “Right now I want to feel your whole body against mine. You’re so soft. So sweet.” He turned her a bit so he could spoon her. He nuzzled her neck. “I’m so happy my trip was canceled.”

She chuckled. “Me, too. What do you suppose people will say when they notice I’m still here?”

“I don’t know what they’ll say about you but I think they’ll decide I’m less strange.”

“I’m not sure anyone thinks of you as strange,” she said, holding on to the arms that held her.

“They must. I even find myself strange. But right this moment? I find myself to be the luckiest man alive.”

“We should put on our pajamas and open the door to listen for Noah...”

“In just a little while,” he murmured. He turned her toward him and pulled one of her legs over his hip. “We can take a little more time.”

“Oh, Owen. I do love the way you touch me.”

“Good. I’m going to touch you every chance I get. Hannah, Hannah, you make my heart feel so full...”

“So far...this is an excellent idea. I think photography isn’t your only gift.”

A couple of hours later, still cuddling but pajama clad, Hannah opened her eyes to see Noah at the side of the bed.

“Hannah?”

“Noah, did you have a bad dream?”

“No, but I was done sleeping.” He yawned. “For now.”

“You can come in the bed but let’s take your braces off.”

“’Kay,” he said. “Hannah, is that Owen right there? What is he doing there?”

“Well, this is his bed I’ve been using so I imagine he’d like it back. And I don’t mind sharing,” she said, sliding off the braces. “Come here on my side. No, Romeo. You have to lie on the floor. There you go. Snuggle up, Noah. Close your eyes, please. I’m not done sleeping yet.”

“’Kay. You sure do fit a lot of people in this bed.”

“It’s better when it’s not too many,” she said. “Shhh.”

  Helen said she was relieved and not at all surprised that Hannah and Noah stayed. “I figured you for a smart woman,” she said.

Leigh Shandon said, “I’m growing a nice little group of women friends. Maybe I’ll start a book club.”

At the thought of books, Hannah remembered that great shelf in Owen’s library of children’s classics, each one too long to finish on a short vacation. Treasure Island, Swiss Family Robinson, Alice in Wonderland, Watership Down, Where the Red Fern Grows, Peter Pan, all the Harry Potter books. Since they were only going to be here for a couple of weeks, she’d been reluctant to get into too many of the classics, though she fell in love with them. Beautiful paper, illustrated, leather-bound. Because she thought time was short, she’d done most of the reading. They were reading Treasure Island. “Help me read a little bit, Noah,” she said.

“I can do that,” he said.

Noah was able to read whole sentences even from this complicated book. He had done this before when he’d been reading his own books, but she assumed his books were so familiar to him that he did it a lot of it from memory. “Noah, you’re a very good reader!”

“Sometimes,” he said. “Not the real hard words.”

“Who taught you to read?”

“The teacher. And Linda. And Mom.”

“Wow! You’re amazing!”

He just shrugged. “I’m not that active.”

“You’re sure active here!” she said.