“Yes, I believe you would,” Hannah said, her tone patient, her silent sigh sad. “Justin, there are more things to a relationship than sex, at least if there’s any hope of the relationship lasting.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he brushed off her scold. “Compatibility, similar likes and all the rest of that jazz. But good sex is a very large component, and great sex even more so.”
Yes, indeedy, Hannah thought, without a trace of humor but with a large amount of disappointment. Justin Grainger definitely was sexually motivated.
She sighed again. “Turned out, we weren’t very compatible,” she explained. “He was altogether career oriented. He ate, drank and slept his career, and it got worse with every move he made up the corporate ladder. There was no time for fun, friends, long, deep conversations.”
“Or even the fun of longer, deeper, lovemaking,” Justin interjected.
Hannah chose to ignore his opinion, then doggedly continued. “Understand, I was recently out of college and devoted to the marketing business I was getting off the ground. But I was often able to leave my business concerns in the office when I locked up for the night.”
“And he couldn’t do that?”
“No.” She shook her head, at the same time wondering why she was bothering to explain all this to him when they obviously weren’t going to be seeing each other again after she returned to Philly and he went back to breed horses in Montana. But she soldiered on, “I didn’t simply quit, you know. I tried to make it work. I even learned to cook, a chore he knew I wasn’t exactly crazy about.”
He laughed.
She bristled. “Well, I never could understand why anyone would put so much time and effort into preparing an elaborate meal for someone to consume in fifteen minutes, leaving the cook to clean up afterward.”
Justin laughed harder. “I’m sorry. I’m not ridiculing you.”
Hannah glared at him. “Then what’s so damn funny?”
“The fact that you’ve put my own feelings about the culinary art so elegantly into words.” He had brought the laughter to a more acceptable grin. “If I want an elaborately concocted meal, complete with fine wine and candles on the table, I’ll go to a fine restaurant and let an expert prepare it.”
“My sentiments exactly,” Hannah concurred, grinning back at him, not for a minute realizing that they were in the midst of the kind of deep conversation she had just complained about being missing from her previous relationship. Maybe that was because she never considered she and Justin ever would be in any kind of relationship…other than the physical one they were briefly conducting.
“So, what do you say we consign whoever-he-was to the dull life he deserves and get on with our own pursuits?” His grin slid into an invitingly sexy smile.
“Which are?” she asked, suddenly aware of them sitting there, naked to the waist, and the thrill of expectation dancing along her exposed spine.
“The dreaded kitchen duty first.” The sexy smile reverted back to a grin. “Then a shower.” He hesitated. “And I think it’s time I stripped the bed and tossed these sheets into the washer.”
“Okay.” Though she readily agreed, Hannah was disappointed. Drat the man and his sensually teasing ways. “I’ll remake the bed.”
“You’re on.” Springing from the bed, he scooped up his crumpled jeans and put them on before reaching for the same sweater he’d worn the day before.
Quickly sliding from the bed, Hannah picked up the robe he had earlier flung aside, and slipped into it, belting it securely, while admiring the back he turned away to gather his clothes.
Justin Grainger was a magnificent specimen, his broad muscular back, his slender waist, the tightness of his butt, the long muscles of his thighs and calves. She sighed. Hell, she even thought he had handsome feet!
Pathetic, she chastised herself. Who the devil ever thought of a male’s feet as handsome?
She did, that’s who, and the realization was pretty damn scary. Hurrying out of the room, Hannah kept telling herself what she was feeling was simply a strong physical attraction, a very strong physical attraction. Nothing more.
Working smoothly together as they had the day before, Hannah and Justin had the kitchen clean in less than twenty minutes.
“Know what?” Justin said to her as she was rinsing out the dish cloth. “I’m hungry.”
Dropping the cloth into the sink, Hannah turned to him and pointed out the obvious. “We just finished clearing away the breakfast things.”
“Yeah, I know,” he agreed, favoring her with that blasted devil smile. “But have you looked at the clock?”
Naturally, Hannah shot a glance at the wall. The clock read 1:44. Unbelievable. She and Justin had finished breakfast somewhere around nine. For some weird reason, knowing the time made her aware of the hollow feeling inside her. She shifted her gaze back to him.
“You know what?” She pulled his trick of forging ahead without waiting for a response. “I’m hungry, too.”
He flashed his most sexy smile. “Good. Let’s grab some lunch.”
Within ten minutes, again working easily together, they sat down to a meal.
Where before they had cleaned up the kitchen in compatible silence, this time they chatted away about this and that, nothing earth-shattering, simply kitchen talk.
From the kitchen they returned to the bedroom to gather the dirty laundry. They had no sooner set foot inside the room when Justin placed a hand on her arm, stopping her in the process of bending to start collecting clothes.
“You know what?” he asked again, and once more going on without pause, “I think it would be a waste of that invitingly rumpled bed.” He raised that brow and flashed that wicked smile. “Don’t you?”
Hannah wanted to say no. She really did. But her vocal chords and tongue wouldn’t cooperate, and what came out was a hushed and breathless “Yes.”
Later, lying replete and boneless beside him, Hannah silently marveled at the sexual prowess of the man holding her firmly against him. She loved the feel of his warm skin against hers, his breath ruffling her hair, his hands smoothing, soothing her back with long strokes of his hand. She gave a soft, contented sigh. Could she possibly love…
Don’t go there. Hannah repeated the order she had given herself once before. This was merely fun and games. A few days out of the ordinary.
Allow yourself a few more days of physical indulgence, then run for home as though your very emotional stability depended on it…for it just might.
Spurred by her introspection, Hannah rolled out of Justin’s arms, off the bed and grabbed up her robe. “I’m taking a shower,” she announced, making a bee-line for the bathroom.
“Hey, wait,” Justin barked, coming after her.
He was too late. She flipped the lock jut as he reached for the doorknob.
“Hannah,” he pleaded with a soft laugh. “Let me in.”
“You’ve been in,” Hannah dared to playfully remind him. “A lot. And I loved every minute of it,” she conceded, smiling at his exaggerated groan. “Now I want to have a long shower and shampoo my hair. I’ll see you in about a half hour…if you’re lucky.”
“A half hour?” Justin shouted. “What the hell am I going to do for a half hour?”
“I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” She turned the water on full force to drown out any reply he might make.
Hannah felt wonderfully clean as she stepped from the shower. She also was rather proud of herself, as she had finished five or so minutes faster than she had promised Justin.
Holding her robe around her, she entered the bedroom. The room was empty, not a half-naked, too-attractive man in sight. To her surprise, not only was the floor clear of their clothes, the bed had been stripped and remade.