Hook, Line, and Sinker (Bellinger Sisters)

With that, Hannah lost the ability to breathe, her fingers moving faster on the sensitive pearl of flesh. It swelled along with the pressure inside her, and Fox’s body heat, his scent, the way he watched her with salacious intention, his own breath turning shallow, made every inch of her more sensitive. Her hair follicles seemed to reach out to him, receiving an electrical charge in response, and she trembled, thighs squeezing tight around her hand. “You’re enough when you’re not touching me,” she whispered, not even sure she said it out loud until Fox’s expression went from lusting to dumbstruck, his chest starting to heave. “You’re enough on your own.”

She watched his face, watched the confusion give way to hunger and swing back again. “Hannah,” he said raggedly, dropping his hands to rake them up and down her hips, twisting his fingers in the sides of her panties. “All right, I give in.” The growl he let loose into her neck shook Hannah down to her toes. “You want to fuck, babe? Hop up here and let’s get it done.”

It was like he couldn’t fathom a woman wanting nothing but his presence.

As if her turning him down only meant she wanted a different act.

A different favor from him.

Hannah didn’t think there was a single thing under the sun that could turn her from hot to cold in that moment, but that glimpse past his exterior did it. The vulnerability shining through despite Fox’s best efforts was like a desk fan blowing across her sweaty skin, turning it clammy. Something akin to indignation scaled the walls of her chest. Something was wrong here. Something was inside of Fox that shouldn’t be, and she wanted to put a name to it.

Attempting to slow her breathing, Hannah removed her fingers from her underwear, letting them fall to her side. “Fox . . .”

He stepped back like he’d been shocked, nostrils flaring.

Opened his mouth to say something and snapped it shut again.

They stared at each other for long seconds. And then he reached for the doorknob, moving her gently but firmly out of the way so he could stride out, not stopping until he’d left the apartment.

Hannah stared at nothing, the opening riff of “Dazed and Confused” by Zeppelin playing in her head. What the heck just happened?

It wasn’t totally clear, but suddenly she didn’t feel so good about calling him Peacock—and in that moment, Hannah vowed she never would again.

Chapter Eleven

Fox would just pretend like it never happened.

That’s all there was to it.

What had actually happened, anyway? Nothing.

Apart from seeing Hannah in a bra and panties, which was an image that would be burned into his brain for all eternity, he’d put his mouth on her neck, run his hands over her smooth skin. Dirty talked her a little bit. So what? Even though he’d almost slipped, no boundaries had been crossed.

There was nothing to be tense about.

No reason for this fissure in his gut.

Fox scrubbed a hand up and down the back of his neck forcefully, trying to rid himself of the tightness. He stood in the kitchen surrounded by ingredients for potato leek soup, vegetables finely chopped on the counter with no cutting board. He’d made a mess, and he could barely remember doing it. Or walking to the store to buy everything he needed. All he knew was that Hannah would be back from set any minute now, and he felt like he owed her an apology. She’d needed something from him, and he’d failed to give it.

He’d turned her off.

Not on. Off.

Hannah must like the director more than he thought. Otherwise she would have let Fox blow her mind, right? That had to be the reason she’d stopped before it was over. Couldn’t be anything else. Couldn’t be that Fox had exposed himself by accident, and she didn’t like what she’d seen.

Could it?

He stirred a dash of thyme into the soup, watching cream swallow the green flecks, very aware of the pulse beating thickly in his throat. It wasn’t as though rejection was a totally foreign concept to him. But after college, he’d kept himself out of situations where being denied was a possibility. He did his job well, went home. When he hooked up, the terms were already outlined with the woman ahead of time, no gray areas. No confusion about anyone’s intentions. No chances were taken. No new horizons were embarked upon.

This thing with Hannah was nothing if not a new horizon.

It was friendship . . . and maybe that was another reason why he’d fucking pushed it earlier today. Because he didn’t know how to be a friend. The possibility of failing at it, disappointing her, was daunting. Now, distracting her with sex? That was so much easier.

The sound of a key turning in the lock made Fox’s insides seize up, but he stirred the soup casually, looking up with a quick smile when Hannah walked in. “Hey, Freckles. Hope you’re hungry.”