I gasp as he pinches. He drops his head to my breast and draws my nipple into his mouth.
Before I realize what he’s doing, he’s holding me and swimming to the shallow end of the pool. I squeak when he lifts me and settles me onto the top stair, my feet dangling into the water.
“You’re kicking me out of your pool?”
He sinks down and gives me a wicked grin. Floating closer, he parts my thighs and the smile leaves his eyes and is replaced by heat as he draws a finger down my center. My hips tuck forward instinctively and my legs part, giving him better access.
“I love knowing mine is the only mouth that’s ever touched you here.” He leans forward and presses his tongue to my clit—not licking, not sucking. Just tasting.
I wriggle my hips, attempting to return to the pool, but he holds me fast with a hand at each hip. My nipples pucker in the cool night air.
“Relax, angel. I want to make you come while you look at the stars.”
Three Weeks Before Hanna’s Accident
SUNDAY MEANS family dinner at Hanna’s mom’s. It also means pretending we’re still together. And that—being so close to her that I can smell her, so close that her hand brushes my arm when she talks—is heaven and hell all wrapped into one.
“Let me get you some potato casserole,” I say to Hanna. “Isn’t it your favorite?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t need it. I ate breakfast at home.”
I don’t believe her, but now is neither the time nor the place.
“Krystal!” Lizzy shrieks. She drops her silverware and hops up from the table to meet her sister at the door. Hanna follows, and her smile is bigger than I’ve seen it in weeks.
“Oh my God, Hanna,” Krystal shrieks. “You’re really dropping weight.”
“Too fast,” Liz grumbles, and I’d have to agree but I know better than to say anything.
“I still have a long way to go,” Hanna says.
“I’m so glad to see you finally paying attention to your health,” Hanna’s mother says, nodding with approval toward her daughter’s plate of raw vegetables and a small pile of fruit salad.
I struggle to bite my tongue. I’ve seen Hanna on the treadmill in my club, and I’ve watched her avoid food like it’s the enemy. I’m an idiot if I thought my little speech in front of the mirror was going to do any good.
Hanna blushes. “I’ve just been so busy getting the bakery up and running.”
“How’s that going?” Krystal asks as the girls settle at the table.
“It’s amazing,” Hanna says. She practically glows when she talks about it. “I really love it.”
“I heard you’ve been taking a bunch of out-of-town clients too,” Krystal says, which makes Hanna’s blush turn from pink to red.
“I have no complaints,” she says.
Later, when I pull up to the bakery, silence pulls between us, stretched thin under the weight of a thousand things unsaid. She stares out the window, lost in her own mind.
I pull the key from the ignition and lean back in my seat. “Is this it for us? Is it over?”
She practically jumps at my words. “What?”
“I don’t want to pretend anymore. Not if you’re only doing it for me. Screw the grant, Hanna. If you don’t want me, if you can’t forgive me, I’ll let you go. But I can’t stand seeing you on edge like you have been. I can’t stand seeing you starve yourself.”
Her face goes angry, defensive. “I’m not starving myself.”
“Are you in love with him?” The question is out of my mouth before I decide I’m going to ask. I don’t know that there is a him, but I suspect.
“What?” Her eyes go hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”