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CHAPTER 35
Skylar
Iwas pacing in front of the window, wondering if I’d done the right thing by letting Hank give Richie a ride to the bus station. I should have insisted on going with them.
What if Richie mouthed off?
I knew how he could be. Even before his addiction, he’d gotten into verbal altercations with people. He had a very confrontational personality. And his addiction had only exacerbated that particular personality trait.
What if Richie said something offensive or threatened Hank?
Would Hank lose his temper?
Would things turn physical?
No.
I wasn’t sure how I knew it, but something deep down told me that Hank would never hurt Richie. Not even if he deserved it. Because Richie was Luna’s father.
I checked the time, again. They’d been gone for over twenty minutes. It was a five-minute drive to the bus stop. Five minutes there, five minutes back. Hank should be back by now. It’s not like there was any traffic on Firefly Island, especially in the middle of the night.
The floors that Hank had just finished were going to have a hole in them by the time I was through. I’d paced them so many times, back and forth, back and forth.
My mind was going a million miles per minute coming up with every possible scenario that could be delaying Hank. I checked the time again. He’d been gone for twenty-five minutes. At thirty, I was going to call him. Or send a text. Maybe send a text.
I was weighing which option seemed less overbearing when I saw the headlights of Hank’s truck coming down the drive.
“Thank God,” I exhaled as I stepped onto the porch and waited for him to pull up.
As soon as his truck came to a stop in front of the house, I called out, “How did it go?”
“Fine,” he said through his window that was rolled down as he shut off the engine.
When the door opened and he stepped out all of the anxiety that I’d been trying to manage, flooded through me. I walked down a step. “He didn’t say anything, or I mean, he wasn’t rude? Was he? Did he give you a hard time? Did he ask you for money? I can pay you back if you gave him money?” I couldn’t catch my breath and I realized then that I might be hyperventilating.
Hank didn’t respond. He walked up to me, stopping right in front of me. We were face to face since he was standing three steps below me. Instead of offering me a paper bag, Hank lifted his arm and brushed back the hair that had fallen across my forehead and cheek. The roughened pads of his fingertips grazed my outer ear lobe as he tucked it behind my ear.
“He’s safe.”
His voice was so soothing, so assuring, so calming that I let out a breath that I might have been holding for over a decade. It wasn’t just the assurance that had my entire body relaxing. It was the look in his eyes. It was the absolute authority in which he said those two words.
I felt tears begin to fill my bottom lids and I instantly recognized them as being relief. I’d been taking care of everything, on my own, since I was eighteen. First raising Ashley, then having Luna, and in the midst of all of that, trying to take care of an addict.
Not knowing how to compete with all the feelings flowing through and out of me, I surrendered to them. I wrapped my arms around Hank’s neck and collapsed into his arms. His strength enveloped me as he picked me up and carried me to the door and through it.
My legs snaked around him and I buried my head in the crook of his shoulder. He smelled so good I inhaled deeply. As his masculine scent filled my airways desperate need overrode any other emotions I was experiencing. The ache that had been between my legs, the one only he could relieve, intensified as I began kissing and licking his neck.
“I missed you,” I told him between kisses. “I missed you so much.”
His arms tightened around me and he shut the door behind us and turned and set me down on the console table, my back was flush against the wall. I began to pull at his shirt, wanting to feel his skin against mine. He must have the same idea because he mirrored my actions and lifted my shirt up and off.
The second we were both freed from our tops, he pushed my bra down exposing my breasts. I arched my back, offering myself to him. He bent his head and captured my entire areola in his mouth. His tongue swirled around my hardening tip as his teeth bit down just enough to cause a sweet sting.
My hands flew to his head as he sucked and teased my tender peaks. I’d never thought that I had particularly sensitive nipples but Hank’s technique of biting and then sucking proved me wrong yet again. It seemed like he knew my body better than I did. So it shouldn’t have surprised me when his hand slipped between our bodies and into my pants and he began rubbing my sex through my cotton underwear, touching me where I needed him most. But it did.
“Yes,” I gasped. “I need you to touch me. Please. Make me come. I’ve been aching for you.”
If it was anyone besides Hank my bold admission should have horrified me. But then again, if it was anyone besides Hank, I would never have had an admission like that to make.
His finger slid beneath my panties and with just a few swipes of his roughened pad across my clit, nearly intolerable pleasure erupted like a volcano in me. I was seized by a rush of sensation so intense I saw stars behind my closed eyelids. My entire body shuddered as I held onto Hank and rode out the forceful explosion of my orgasm rioting through me.
In the back of my head, I knew that this was what my body had needed. This was what it ached for. Hank was my addiction.
