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He laughed. “I promise I’m fine. It’ll go down.”
“Or...” Her cheeks warmed. “I could?”
His nostrils flared as he picked up her not-so-subtle offer.
“Hannah.”
Her name on his lips was a husky growl that made her stomach flip. Her need to please him increased. Who was this overly confident woman she’d become?
She scooted closer to him, pushing past the wave of shyness.
“Let me touch you too, Eric.”
*
When Hannah’s fingersbrushed his chest, Eric knew he was a goner. He covered her hand with his, biting back a groan.
Before he could utter some bullshit protest he didn’t mean, the doorbell rang.
He froze, and his gaze swept to the doorway.
“You expecting someone?”
She shook her head, confusion knitting her brows. “No one comes over without texting or calling first. I’ll go check who it is.”
No way.
He caught her hand when she moved to walk past him and stroked the inside of her palm with his thumb.
“Let me get this? Just to be safe?”
She started to laugh, but then nodded. “Sure. Okay. You can check the peephole.”
Maybe it was nothing to worry about, but with how things had been going lately for her, Eric didn’t want to take that chance.
He made his way down the hall and glanced through the peephole. No one seemed to be standing directly in front of the door, but that didn’t mean they weren’t off to the side.
The sound of her light footsteps indicated she’d followed him.
“I don’t see anyone, but hang on.” Eric unlocked the door and pulled it open, ready for anything.
A quick glance each way showed there was no one in the hall, but someone had definitely been here. He studied the flowers on the ground before picking them up.
“Looks like someone left you a gift.”
“Oh?” Hannah moved forward to take the vase of flowers and set them on the counter. “I think these are geraniums?”
Eric grunted and went to shut the door. “Late birthday present maybe?”
“I don’t know. Aha, there’s a little card in here.”
When she fell silent, he moved closer to her.
“Everything okay?”
She didn’t reply, just handed him the card.
In Victorian times, the geranium often symbolizedfoolishness.
To be a man’s whore is to be the ultimatefool.
Think carefully.
