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The phone rang, making her jump back like a guilty teenager.
It was a loud, antique phone, the ring loud and shrill and she reached for it automatically so it wouldn't wake up Elliott.
"Hello," she whispered into the receiver.
There was a silence on the other end and she almost hung up. Then the voice spoke, an inhuman voice. The kind of voice you hear on a news interview when the witness wants to remain anonymous, dark and robotic. Everyone's voice was masculine and deep.
"Whore," the voice hissed.
"Who is this?" she hissed back, looking at Elliott to make sure he was still asleep. He hadn't stirred.
"You should be more worried about your conduct, slut. Stay in your small town. Quit your job. Never see him again. Or you will regret it."
Click. Dial tone.
Hannah sat there, holding the receiver to her ear for a second, queasiness swirling in her stomach, making her genuinely wonder if she were going to be sick.
"Who was that?" Elliott's voice asked, groggy.
Hannah jumped, her heart thudding quickly. She placed the receiver back into the cradle before turning to Elliott, biding time.
His eyes were small and puffy like he was struggling to stay awake.
"Front desk." The lie came quickly, easily. "They were checking to see if I was staying in the room. There was a message from Emily."
"Hmm," Elliott hummed in agreement, his eyes closing. His arm reached out, tugging her back to a laying position and then pulling her onto his chest. She felt his fingers in her hair, stroking for a split second before stilling. And she knew he was asleep again.
It was the first time she heard a voice. Granted it was artificially manipulated, but it was a voice.
And that was escalation. Whomever it was, they were getting even more angry.
With her head on Elliott's chest, she lay awake all night, worrying.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
She had finally fallen to sleep sometime after the sun started to break through the dark sky. She woke up a few short hours later to the sound of water running. Sitting up groggily, she scrambled for something to put on. Him seeing her nude post-sex was one thing, seeing her stark naked in the cool, harsh light of morning was a complete other. The water shut off suddenly and she grabbed for the first piece of clothing she saw- Elliott's white dress shirt.
Hannah didn't often think about her height. Though she knew she was slightly taller than the average woman, it never seemed to matter much. But the shirt cut her just past her hips, unlike how it did in movies, falling sexy to mid-thigh, but not actually showing any ass.
"Hannah," she heard Elliott say and turned, her hands fumbling with the button between her breasts. He said her name a lot. It never much occurred to her that in everyday situations with friends and family and even coworkers, no one used your name often. She could go the better part of a week without hearing her name on someone else's lips. Hearing it sounded intimate. Especially the way Elliott said it in his deep voice.
When she turned, his eyebrow quirked up as he followed the line of her body from where her hands had finally pushed the small button through the impossible hole down to her bare legs and back up again. She found herself doing the same to him. He was wrapped in a towel at his waist, clasped dangerously low on his hips. She could see the cuts of his hipbones and had a sudden urge to tear off the towel. His stomach and chest still had beads of water, one or two broke free and slid down beneath the towel as she looked.
Finally meeting his face, she noticed his hair was dripping. And he was smiling. "Like what you see?" he asked in a flirtatious tone.
"Maybe," she answered, just as teasing and wondered where it had come from. She had never been good at flirting.
"Maybe huh?" he said, stepping closer to her, reaching out with his long hands and grabbing her ass. Finding no panties and nearly growling. Before she realized what he was doing, he pulled the towel off in one swift motion, revealing his manhood, hard and waiting for her. "Is this better?" he asked, his eyes fixed on hers.
Hannah saw the side of his lips turn upward, an amused quirk she noticed he used a lot. She shrugged one shoulder slowly. "Maybe a little," she said, her voice sounding wholly unimpressed and girly. She tried to keep her grin from turning into a full smile, but slightly uncomfortable with her own boldness, she felt it stretch across her face.
Elliott chuckled. A quick, rumbling sound in his chest as he put an arm around her hips and dragged her against him. Due to the ridiculous length of the shirt on her, she felt his cock push up under the fabric and settle, a hard throbbing mass against her heat.
She had expected him to reach and pull her legs apart. To penetrate her quickly and have fast, hard sex with her. The look in his eyes said that was what he wanted to do. But he stood there, still, looking down at her. Desire built in her quickly. She didn't know it was possible to want someone so quickly and so much just standing with them. Impatient, needy, she allowed her legs to open slightly and she inched her hips closer to him, making his cock part her folds and push against hard against her wetness. Her mouth opened on a sigh and she saw his eyes close for a second.
But he made no move. Hannah brought a hand up to his shoulder, holding herself more steady as she rubbed her self slowly forward and back across his hard length. Over and over. Her head fell against his chest as her breath came out in sighs.
Then he was finally moving, pulling her toward the bed. He sat on the edge, his feet on the floor, and pulled her onto his lap. He grabbed her face and kissed her, long and hard and passionate. She reached between them as his tongue filled her mouth, and guided him inside her. She pushed herself down his shaft, and groaned against his lips. There was something to be said for hard, fast sex. But there was also something to this, this slow, lazy penetration that forced her body to feel him fill her impossibly full.
