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But that urge has never been there with Hannah.
I can’t seem to get closeenoughwhere she’s concerned.
The smoke alarm suddenly begins blaring again, making us both jump.
“Turn on the vent and open the patio doors,” I say, not sure if Hannah can even hear me over the racket. She must catch some of it, though, because she nods before slipping off the counter.
I force my erection back in my pants, gritting my teeth as my hard dick strains against the stiff fabric in protest. There’s a stepladder in the hall closet. I haul it out, locating the button on the alarm and pressing it. Nothing happens. I jam it three more times before the ear-splitting shriek finally stops.
The silence that follows sounds louder than the screeching was.
Hannah is out on the patio now, staring out at the sweeping view of Central Park.
I stow the stepladder back in the closet, walk to the open door, then pause. “Should be all set now.”
She glances back at me and nods, not moving from the railing. A cool breeze pulls some hair free from her ponytail, the blonde strands blowing across her face.
I’m not sure what else to say to her.Sorry for freaking out a little, I’d love to stop wearing condoms?
I’ve never had this conversation with a woman before. Maybe she’s regretting the offer. Maybe it was the heat of a moment that’s totally cooled, thanks to the smoke alarm.
And it’s most definitely a bad idea, no matter how turned on I am by the thought. We’re in the midst of divorce proceedings. I shouldn’t be having sex with her at all, let alone with less protection.
I can retrace every decision that ended up here, but I can’t figure out exactly how it happened. How what should have been the simplest of decisions—ending an accidental marriage to a stranger—somehow turned into this ball of dread in my stomach. I’m dreading ourdivorce, not panicking about our marriage.
I tug at my tie, the knot suddenly feeling too tight.
My phone rings in my pocket. I pull it out and glance at the screen.
It’s work. It’salwayswork.
“I need to take this,” I say. “Shouldn’t be long.”
Maybe I’ll have figured out what to say to her by then.
Hannah nods. She doesn’t roll her eyes or sigh the way other women have done when I’ve taken work calls, and it’s the first time I’ve wished someone would. Some sign she cares would be nice to see.
“Okay. I’ll look through takeout menus.”
“Sounds good.” I turn away and answer the call. “Oliver Kensington.”
“Hey, Oliver. I stopped by your office, but I must have just missed you.”
I don’t miss the surprise in Scott’s voice, so I don’t tell him I left the office an hour ago. Just like I shove away the voice that whispers that’s where I should be.
“Zantech wants to talk. By the end of their day, so early morning for us. Are you available for a call at six?”
Tomorrow is Garrett’s wedding. Up until the ceremony, I had an open schedule. And since Hannah’s return flight to California is the following morning, I was hoping to spend the whole day with her. But we’ve been trying to woo this company for months. Chances are, Hannah will still be sleeping when the call ends. “That’s fine. Set it up.”
“Great. Will do. Have a good night, Oliver.”
“You too, Scott.”
I continue down the hallway, but don’t stop at my office. I’m sure I have a hundred unread emails, but I’m not interested in dealing with any of it right now.
I head into the master bedroom, then walk straight into the attached bathroom. Both of my hands rest on the cold granite surrounding the sink as I take deep breaths, trying to sort the mess in my head out. It’s getting harder and harder to suppress my feelings, to pretend fucking Hannah out of my system is accomplishing anything except her sinking deeper under my skin.
And I can’t get the picture of her sitting with her legs spread on my counter out of my head.
