“You never knew?” He brushed back a strand of hair from her face.
“No.” She could barely speak past the tightening of her throat and the need rising inside her. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushed over her lips.
“I have.” His voice was soft, edged with some emotion she couldn’t put her finger on. “I’ve wanted for so long, and I felt guilty as hell.”
Surprise shot through her. Guilt. He’d felt guilty because he’d wanted her before Sienna had died. She understood what he meant. Even though she just told him she hadn’t known, she had sensed it then, two years before Sienna’s death when Rick had brought Kent into school for registration.
They had lived in the same town most of their lives, but that night, she had really seen Rick. His smile, his dark chuckle, the feel of his hand as he shook hers.
Sienna had been cold, brittle. Hannah had had several run-ins with Sienna over the years. Little things that really hadn’t mattered.
“Why haven’t you said anything? Why were you so cold last summer?” she asked. He hadn’t seemed the least bit interested in her when they had gone out the summer before.
“You make me crazy.” The hand on her knee slid beneath the material of her dress, pushing it up her leg as he moved his palm to her thigh. “You make me want you until I can’t think about anything else.”
He meant it. Hannah stared up at him, seeing the faintly confused, intent look on his face and realized that he meant it. He wanted her that bad.
He was going to break her heart. That was her luck, it was horrible when it came to men. She had yet to choose one that wanted a relationship. Even her husband.
Would it be better to go ahead and just get it over with? If she slept with him now, maybe all those pesky emotional issues wouldn’t come into play. Maybe she could actually have the pleasure, have a sense of caring at least, and be able to watch him leave without the repercussions that had come with her divorce.
As she stared up at him, she felt his hand moving higher, watched his head lower further. He was kissing her slow and easy, lengthy sips of her lips that had her hands sliding up his chest again to his hair. They clenched in the strands to hold him to her.
Her lips parted beneath his as his tongue stroked over them. He licked them, a hard male groan leaving his lips, and her breath caught from the pleasure.
Heated, liquid need was pouring through her system. Her pussy clenched with the need for touch, her clit swelling in desperate desire as his fingers flexed against her thighs.
Hannah felt her legs falling apart involuntarily. It had nothing to do with the feel of his hands pressing against her inner thighs and the knowledge of the touch to come if she just let him in.
She forgot where she was, what she should be doing, and the hazards of loving any man. All she could think about was this touch, this kiss. His hands as they slid higher, as his fingers touched the silk of her pan ties and pulled them aside.
The pad of his thumb ran up the closed slit of her sex, the feel of it, the glance of his flesh brushing over her clit, had her jerking in reaction, a stilted moan falling from her lips.
God, they were in the middle of a parking lot, her legs spread, his finger pressing against her clit and she was so hot she was about to go up in flames.
“Jesus, you’re wet,” he growled against her lips.
The sound was rough, deep, and hungry. It sent a shiver racing up her spine and more dampness spilling from her pussy.
“Come here.” With an arm wrapped around her hips, he pulled her closer to the edge of the seat, giving him greater access to the damp folds he was caressing.
“There,” he crooned in that rough voice as his thumb stroked through the wet flesh once more and Hannah shuddered against him.
Her head tipped back, giving his lips access to her neck as his thumb rubbed and probed and sent heat coursing through her body.
“Rick.” She sighed his name again. “Someone’s going to see.”
She wondered if she even cared if they saw. She was sitting there, and she sure as hell wasn’t protesting a damn thing he was doing to her. She was on the verge of begging for more.
“Not yet.” His lips slid against her neck before he let his teeth rake over it. The stinging little pleasure was like a rush of heat attacking her nerve endings.
Hannah fought for breath as his strokes between her thighs intensified. He parted the slick flesh, groaned against her neck, and a heartbeat later she felt the slow, firm penetration of two fingers.
Her breath caught, her eyes opening drowsily to stare back at him as she fought to breathe. It was exquisite. It was the most pleasure she had ever known, had ever thought she could know.
“It’s so good,” she breathed out roughly as he pressed deeper, retreated, only to return again, his fingers stretching her erotically as she tried to hold her eyes open, to watch his face, to revel in the hunger burning in his eyes.
“It could be better, Hannah,” he told her softly. “So much better.”