Night Owl(45)

Matt caught my gaze and searched it.

"Hannah, god," he whispered. He began to bounce me steadily on his cock, his fingers digging into my bottom. He thrust from deep to deeper, again and again, and my clit ground into his pubic bone. My breasts rubbed along his chest. My hard nipples bent against his skin.

When I came, I gasped in shock and pleasure. My sex pulled and pressed and Matt growled in my ear.

"There's my little slut," he hissed. "Come on me, come on my cock."

Oh, and there was the dirty boy I loved.

Matt lifted me off his cock and set me on my feet. My legs felt watery. Moisture trickled down my inner thigh.

He led me into the tent and I stretched out on my back. Matt climbed over me. He dragged his wet tip along my belly and smirked.

"Still hard," he murmured. "Now you have to help me, Hannah."

I thought Matt was moving toward my mouth, but he stopped with his shaft between my breasts. I knew what he wanted then. I clasped my breasts and forced them together, sandwiching Matt's throbbing member. God, he was huge. I glanced down to see his head squeezed out of my cleavage. Matt moaned.

"Mm, that's it baby, keep looking. You're going to make me come hard. Oh—f*ck, you're going to lick it all up when I'm done."

Matt thrust through the seal of my breasts, his sex slick with my desire. The moans falling from his lips made me tremble. I watched his abs flexing. God, he moved beautifully. When his head plunged toward my neck, I licked and sucked at it.

"Hannah!" His cry filled my ears.

He grasped his shaft and hot spurts hit my breasts. I licked at the milky fluid while Matt watched. I brought my nipples to my mouth and sucked them clean.

When I glanced up, Matt was smiling cagily at me.

"Perfect," he whispered.

Matt clambered out of the tent to douse the fire and fetch our clothes.

We fell asleep on top of our sleeping bags.

I awoke freezing in the night and climbed into my bag, but Matt remained slumbering on his stomach, sprawled out beside me. I inched closer to him and he chuckled in his sleep. He threw an arm over my cocooned body.

Through my sleeping bag, I could feel the weight of his arm and the incredible heat of it. I peered at him in the darkness.

Half awake, halfway in the land of dreams, I imagined Matt was a tiger in a man's skin. He must have been extraordinary, though I knew so little about him. Some wild heat—some extravagance, some consuming ambition—must have kept him burning in the cold night.

CHAPTER 19

Matt

I WOKE TOO early on Monday. I didn't need to look at my clock to know it was early. The light coming through the window was pale and depressive.

No Hannah.

I didn't know how to be apart from Hannah anymore. I didn't know how to wake up without her. When I was with her, I felt right and the world felt full of possibility.

We'd spent all of Sunday driving and hiking around the park. We drove back late last night. When I dropped Hannah off and pulled away, a familiar desperation came over me.

Why the desperation, still?

Why did every small separation still seem to echo a future goodbye?

I had broken up with Bethany. I called her the same day I tried to meet Hannah for lunch. In vague terms, I told Bethany that I could no longer be with her. I apologized for the timing, the phone call, everything.

Bethany sobbed and swore. She was by turns accepting, then venomous and threatening. She demanded to know if I was seeing someone else.

"There's no one," I lied.

I would protect Hannah no matter what. I wouldn't drag her deeper into my mess.

"I don't believe you!" Bethany's voice was shrill. "You lying cheating f*ck!"

"Bethany, please—"

"Don't say my name! You f*cking *. I've always been able to do better. Like I need you and your ridiculous antisocial neurotic bullshit. Good riddance. You don't give a f*ck about anyone or anything but your f*cking writing."

I didn't hang up on Bethany. I smoked and let her rip into me; I watched the city darken and thought of Hannah. When this was over, I could really be with her.

Finally, Bethany wound down to tearful hiccups.

She said she couldn't wait to tell her father that he was right about me, that I was no good after all. He was right, I thought.

She said she would get her things when she returned and stay with a friend, and could I please not be around when she packed.

"Of course," I said, lighting my third cigarette. "I'll go out. I can gather up your things, if you want..."


I thought of Bethany's stuff crammed into the trunk of my car.

"Fuck you," she said, and she was gone.

That night, I didn't let myself reach out for Hannah. Bethany might call back for another round of cussing and questioning, and besides, I didn't deserve Hannah's comfort. I deserved a night alone.

I deserved worse.

Had I really made things right by breaking up with Bethany? I had no intention of telling Bethany about Hannah or Hannah about Bethany. Could I pull this off? Could I blithely begin a relationship with Hannah on this foundation of lies?

I peeled back the sheets and checked my phone.

8:45 a.m.

Hannah would be getting ready for work. More like on her way to work. I hoped she wasn't too wiped out from our weekend in the mountains.