Crossing the Line (13 page)

“I’m not welcome on school property again. Your weasel of a principal made sure I was clear on that.”

“But there were no charges.”

“Yeah. I kinda wish the prick had pressed charges.” His jaw clenched beneath her fingers. “I’m free, but that kid is still trapped. If the cops had gotten involved, they’d have been obligated to investigate what I witnessed. You know that wasn’t the first time the douchebag tossed his boy around.”

So he
had
been listening when she gave daily updates. There’d been a reason Jon Whittle hadn’t wanted anybody to call the police that evening. Whittle had a record of his own—well, almost. He’d twice been arrested for domestic assault, but both times, his wife had recanted her statement at the last minute. That much had been in the news.

“All of his teachers will be watching, now more than ever. We’re trying to get him to open up to us.”

Derrick snorted. “Good luck with that. As long as that kid’s living with his dad, fear’s gonna keep his mouth locked down.”

Tightness tugged from deep in her chest. Derrick had been physically free of his father’s heavy hand for many years, but not psychologically and emotionally. Maybe he never would be. All she could do for him was to keep the ghosts at bay by focusing on the present. The good stuff.

She switched to a straddle position and rocked her hips front to back. “I’ve missed you this week.” She breathed the words against his lips. “Come back to me, please.”

“It’s not some switch I can flip.”

“I know you feel bad, but—”

“Bad.” A gruff laugh that had nothing to do with amusement rumbled between them. “I beat the shit out of a man, Hanna. In front of his kid. I’m not as smart as your family or your teacher friends, but you can dig a little deeper than your kindergarten vocabulary for this one.”

And they were back to that nonsense. “No, I’m done talking.” She pushed off his lap, grabbed up the remote and clicked the TV off with as much oomph possible. “Get up. I want to go out with my husband. And don’t give me any blah-blah-blah about the game, because I’m going to be a wonderful wife and compromise—we’ll go to JT’s Roadhouse and sit in the bar so I can gorge on loaded potato skins and you can stare at their blinding array of big screens.”

This time, his chuckle came with a smile. Not a huge one, but genuine. “Got it all figured out, huh?” He leaned forward, cupped her ass and pulled her to him, an action that put his face in very close proximity to parts he hadn’t visited once this week, thanks to his mood. “What about later, you have a plan for that too?”

“I do.” She sucked in a quick breath when his mouth closed over the seam of her jeans and his tongue pressed the hard ridge of fabric against her clit. “I’m tired of masturbating—I need you to make me come, I need to get fucked. Tonight. I’m done waiting.”

“If that’s what you need…” He stood, angled her head to his liking and sealed his mouth over hers for a long, slow kiss. “Then I promise that’s what you’ll get.”

* * * * *

The last month had flown by. The business trip to Japan had eaten up two full weeks. The remaining time had been equally busy. Sixty-hour work weeks hadn’t left Jeremy much time with Luke—a fact that had frustrated the hell out of him and massively pissed Viv off. His impromptu appearance on her doorstep the night of Luke’s classroom open house had smoothed things over somewhat, though not enough to make her flexible about their weekend custody arrangements. That left him with a wide-open weekend that he’d rather have spent with his son.

It also left him with too much time to think about Luke’s teacher. Seeing Hanna wasn’t his motivation for wrestling his schedule into submission to free up meet-the-teacher night. Not his primary motivation, anyway. He should really use this free weekend to get laid. Get the memory of Hanna out of his system.

A female bartender stopped in front of him, nodding to her right once she had his attention. “The blonde at the end of the bar asked what you were drinking so she could buy you one. I told her I’d have to check.” She smirked. “Figured I’d give you a chance to change your order to something more exciting than plain orange juice.”

Jeremy looked toward his potential drinking partner. Early-thirties probably, pretty face with full, bright-pink lips, low-cut top filled that emphasized her ample cleavage. She waved at him—and blew him a kiss.

“She looks like a sure thing to me. So, what’ll it be, handsome?”

The first legit smile he’d had in weeks made itself at home on his face. The blonde “sure thing” had nothing on the woman standing in front of him. Tall, with long hair that included several colors from the rainbow. A nose ring. Not the type he normally went for, but after that night with Derrick and Hanna, what the hell was normal?

He took a swallow of juice and shook his head. “Tell her thanks, but no thanks.”

“Huh.” She leaned over the bar and picked up his left hand. “No ring. Status?”

“Divorced.”

“Nice.”

He chuckled. “How do you figure?”

“Well, it means you’re probably not gay,” one eyebrow rose, “unless that’s the reason you got divorced.”

“Nope.”

She released his hand and picked up a cloth. Wiped the bar in a circular motion that made her tits jiggle in an unintentional yet wholly mesmerizing way. “Divorced means you’ve made that trek down the aisle, so you’re obviously not afraid of commitment. That’s a big deal for most women. A friggin’ aphrodisiac.”

“Are you one of those women?”

“Ha, nope. I can’t even commit to a hair color.” She motioned at his almost-empty glass. “Get you something else?”

The words, “your number, for later” didn’t make it out of his mouth.

“He’ll have a beer.” Derrick’s palm landed solidly on his shoulder. “Better yet, we’ll have a pitcher, and my gorgeous wife’ll have…”

“An iced tea,” Hanna said, filling in the blank. “Thank you.”

Derrick slid onto the neighboring stool and swiveled so they faced one another. “How’s it going?”

Jeremy glanced to the left, at Hanna. A hell of a lot better now, that’s how he was doing. “Same old, just a bigger pile. How’re you doing?” Hanna had texted him a few times after the incident in the school parking lot, asking him to call Derrick. He’d tried, but his buddy hadn’t said much beyond grunts and single words. Since he was out of the house and speaking in full sentences, things must’ve blown over. A very good thing.

“Getting there,” Derrick said, pulling his wife between his legs.

The act brought Hanna’s hand in contact with Jeremy’s knee. Briefly, but the air around them charged. She was so close now. Wide-eyed, her lips parted the tiniest bit.

His cock swelled at the memory of what that mouth could do. The greedy hungriness of her moan while she sucked him, how her eyes had pinched closed when she came with him deep in her throat. Christ.

“Let’s grab a table.” Before he did something stupid, like reach out and touch her.

“Sure.”

He and Derrick stood at the same time, the act wedging Hanna between them, once again.

“Oh…sorry,” she said, yet her hand didn’t stray from where it’d splayed over his abs.

A couple inches lower and she’d have discovered his attraction to her hadn’t ended when he’d said goodbye at the resort. Not by a longshot. He stepped aside and met Derrick’s eyes. Braced for the punch he rightly deserved. But it didn’t come.

“Third period’s starting, let’s roll.” Derrick nodded at a small, square table near the shitty, coin-operated pool table. Worst place to sit if you wanted to see the big screens. “Look good to you, Jer?” His eyebrows rose as he tilted his head in Hanna’s direction.

Oh man. If this night was headed where he thought it was… “Looks perfect.”

* * * * *

From the cheering, the home-team must have scored. They might even be winning now. Derrick had lost all track of the game the minute they sat at the table.

He hadn’t planned to initiate another night that included Jeremy. A one-time thing, they’d all agreed. But fuck, the heat coming off Hanna when she’d been accidentally sandwiched between them had made him insta-hard. Watching her get off that night at the resort had been off-the-charts hot. No reason it couldn’t happen again. She’d insisted he show her a good time tonight, so that’s what she’d get.

He caught her hand when she set down her empty glass. She squeezed his fingers and smiled at him. “See? I told you going out would be fun.”

“It’s gonna get a lot more fun, baby.” He brought her hand under the table and settled it over his fly. “Stroke it.” Back and forth, her hand moved over the denim. He shook his head. “Really stroke it. Open the zipper and wrap your fingers around my dick. Do the same for Jer.”

“But…”

Anybody looking at them might’ve mistaken her expression as the deer-in-the-headlights type. Derrick knew better. He saw the lust and excitement in her wide eyes and parted lips. The longing for him to take her places she wouldn’t go on her own. And that’s exactly what he’d do.

“Look at him, baby.” When she turned her head to obey, he added, “Look in his eyes. He wants you to do it.” Yeah, he was making assumptions. Well-founded ones. He was no genius, but he wasn’t oblivious. “I want you to.”

“Another pitcher and iced tea?” one of the servers asked.

Great fucking timing. “Nah, I think we’re done here.”

“We are?” Hanna’s bottom lip stuck out far enough to give even the poutiest of her kindergarten students real competition in the boo-boo-lip department.

“Yeah, we’re gonna go to The Pulse.”

“Dancing?” And boom, the smile was back. If she bounced much more, they might have to tie her down so she didn’t get away. Not a bad idea, actually.

But first, a little warm up. “How about it, Jer—you up for it? Bet it’s been awhile since you carved up a dance floor.”

“Way too long. Count me in.”

* * * * *

Somewhere along the way beer had morphed into Jack’n’Coke. Then he’d added tequila shots. Many, all courtesy of Jeremy’s credit card. At least the bullshit in his brain had finally taken a backseat.

He had no fucking idea what time it was or how long they’d been here. Couldn’t even remember coming out onto the dance floor, where one pounding beat blended into the next. The music never stopped, and neither did Hanna. In front of him, bouncing and gyrating, smiling and singing. Rubbing those sweet tits and hot ass against him. Then against Jer. Back and forth, teasing the ever-living fuck out of them.

She yelled something at him, but the thumping bass swallowed it up. When he shook his head, she grabbed his hand, shoved it down her pants. Sign language. Hell yeah.

He pulled her in, put his mouth to her ear. “I want you naked and on your knees.”

She grabbed his neck and hauled his mouth down. Teeth clashed and tongues pushed together. They had to go. Now.

“Jer.” Nothing.
“Jer,”
he called again. Still no response. So fucking loud in here. He found Hanna’s ear again. “Get Jer so we can get out of here.”

She nodded. Turned. Put an arm around Jeremy and brought his head down to her level. Whatever she said, it worked. He took the lead, cutting a path out of the wall-to-wall bodies with Hanna in tow. She grabbed Derrick’s hand and pulled him tight behind her. No complaints there.

They swerved through the crowd. Past bouncers and a lineup of people waiting to get inside the club Jeremy had convinced them to try. Out of town, less conspicuous. Always the smart one.

Always the designated driver too. All their years as friends and he’d only seen Jeremy drunk once, at his twenty-first birthday. Just wasn’t his thing, he’d said after that. Must be nice to have had that luxury.

“Hey, you.” Hanna twisted in the front passenger seat to smile back at him. “You’re awfully quiet. No passing out, got it?”

He snorted. “Not a chance. Seasoned pro back here.”

She blew him a kiss and disappeared behind the black leather seat. Spent the rest of the drive talking and laughing with Jeremy. Nothing too flirty or sexy, but the chemistry was there. A steady hum with the occasional crackle of electricity. Because of their other night together—or had it’d always been that way? Huh. Maybe he was fucking oblivious after all.

He must’ve zoned out, because the Hummer jerked to a stop in their driveway. Nobody spoke. Didn’t need to—they all knew what would happen next. Somehow they made it from the vehicle and into the house. Keys clattered on the floor. Shoes tumbled and clothes disappeared.

“Gotta have you, baby. Every part of you.” He scooped those perfect tits into his palms and sucked her rosebud nipples between his teeth, one then the other, ’til she had her leg wrapped around him, rocking against his hip.

He’d promised to make her come but this wasn’t how it was happening. He dropped onto the couch, pulling her down with him. “Move up. Want you on my face.” Not something he ever had to tell her twice—his hot fucking wife loved it this way. She crawled up his body and settled just above his shoulders and waited, the way he liked her to. “Fuck, you smell so good.” He stuck his tongue out and wiggled it against her clit. “Ride me, baby. Fuck my face with that sweet pussy.”

Down she came, thighs boxing his head, all that delicious Hanna heat pressed against his mouth. He closed his eyes and breathed her in. Licked and lapped and devoured. He cupped her ass. Gripped her hard and spread her open, as wide as he could get her on the couch. It’d have to do. He slid his hands up to her tits, but Jer had beaten him there. He watched Jeremy’s fingers roll and tug her nipples. Watched Hanna arch toward him, eager for more.

“Please,” she said, tilting her chin up.

“Since you asked so nicely…”

Above him, Hanna giggled. Then moaned, as Jeremy’s cock slid between her lips. In and then in some more, she took every inch. She let Jer fuck her face, loving it as she rocked her pussy on
his
face. Soon it’d be his turn for her attention. He took one hand off her ass and reached for his dick. Fuck—not limp, but not definitely not hard. Maybe it was the view. Can’t say he’d ever wanted this much up-close information about his best friend’s junk.