Page 11 of Hannah and the Hitman
Brittany fanned her face. I could only imagine what she was picturing. She was single and wasn’t interested in a relationship, more than willing to have a one-night stand to get the orgasms she wanted without all the hassle.
I liked the concept, but I couldn’t handle the execution. I was a long-term kind of girl, holding out for Mr. Right, not Mr. Right Now.
“He was reading over my shoulder, B.” When shecontinued to stare, not understanding the depth of the mortification I’d felt, I added, “To Have And To Puck.”
Her mouth dropped open. Then closed. Then open again. “Tell me it wasn’t a sex scene.”
Sheepishly, I nodded. “He read probably fifteen chapters.”
She shoved a chip in her mouth and crunched away. “Shut the front door!”
I put my hand over my face, remembering how mortified I’d felt. Brittany would have probably unbuckled her seatbelt, straddled his lap and did everything in the book.
“And…” She twirled her greasy fingers in a circle to get me to continue.
“And he told me to not flip the page because he couldn’t keep up. He wanted to know what happened.” I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise just thinking about him. How he looked at me after I finally got enough nerve to meet his dark eyes.
She set her hot pink fingertips over her lips, smothering a smile.
“It was so embarrassing!” I said, tossing my arms up. “The heroine got railed by a hockey player so hard she didn’t remember her name and couldn’t walk right for a week.”
“If you can remember your name or walk right after a goodpucking,then you’re not doing it right.”
I couldn’t argue, because my fingers or my vibrator delivered guaranteed orgasms, but a man-made one was much better. Or so I heard. Kevin never delivered. The guy from college had zero skills since we were each other’s firsts.
God, I would love to be able to not walk right from being fucked too well. I couldn’t even imagine.
“You struck up a conversation, and now you’re in love, getting married and having his babies.”Nowshe was a romance enthusiast.
I dropped onto the far end of the couch. My cozy corner where I snuggled in to read or watch TV. Also known asmy spot.“We talked.” I wasn’t telling herwhatwe talked about, how I told him what I wanted in bed with a guy. Getting bossed around. Railed. That would push her over the edge into contacting the FAA to find out his name and address. “Then after the plane landed, he got off with these two smelly guys who were traveling with him and left.”
I shrugged as if I hadn’t been thinking about him since he disappeared in the crowded terminal. Out of sight, out of mind. Not.
“Oh.” She reached for her wine and took a healthy swig.
I crossed my legs and pulled a throw pillow onto my lap. “I know I’m the one who’s a librarian, reads romance and wants to open a romance bookstore–”
“Will open,” she clarified.
“Willopen,” I repeated, knowing she was my biggest champion. “Will open a romance bookstore, but in real life, no hero sits beside me on an airplane and saves me.”
She nodded. “That’s right.”
I frowned, confused. “Huh?”
She reached across the couch, patted my knee. Static electricity had her pulling her hand back. She met my eyes with her serious ones. “You’re going to save yourself. You don’t need a man to do anything for you. Except fuck you good and hard like in your books. The right man can giveyou some really good D.” She thought for a moment, even tapped her finger to her lips. “That should be on a t-shirt.”
“The guy on the plane could give me some D,” I said, without thinking. “No question.”
“Too bad you won’t see him again.”
Yeah, too bad.
5
JACK
“You’re going where?” Dax asked, his voice coming through my SUVs hands-free calling.