Page 5 of Claim to Fame

So he did. Again and again as her hips chased his tongue. He watched her over the mound of dark curls at the apex of her thighs, studied every catch in her breathing, every look of wonder passing over her face when he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked. He watched as she tore down the cups of her bra, plumping and squeezing her breasts when he slid a finger inside her heat, a second, a third.

She rode his hand as he licked and sucked and teased her orgasm to the surface. And when she came, he watched the sparks dance across her skin, saw the pleasure take shape low in her belly and burst with a startled gasp and wave after wave of shaking bliss. He gripped her thigh with his free hand, pulling her tight against his mouth as he licked her through the haze of her climax, urging her to grind against him, to use him to heighten every last aftershock.

This he could do. He didn’t know how to be both Slade Hardcastle and Ethan Hart, how to be someone’s partner, how to make a woman want to stay, but this—making Hannah come so hard she forgot to breathe—thishe could do.

“Ethan.” Her voice broke through his swirling thoughts, her fingers tugging his face away from the heaven between her legs. She smiled indulgently at him, her thumb skating over the wetness clinging to his lower lip. He captured that thumb between his teeth, tugging gently. “Take me to bed.”

He removed his clothing as she shed her bra and moved to the bed, sliding back until she rested against the headboard. Following her down, he watched with barely restrained need as she produced a condom from somewhere and slid the latex over his erection.

“I’ve been thinking about this for weeks too,” she said as she pumped her hand over his length, slowly, like a promise.

“This?” he asked, punching his hips forward into her touch.

She bit back a smile. “You.”

There was a sadness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. A softness he didn’t recognize. He reached up and cupped her jaw, guiding her lips to his. Moving over her, he covered her body with his own, watched in awe as she guided the flared tip of his cock to her entrance, as she parted to make room for him, to let him inside. Hooking one of her legs with his elbow and opening her up further, he gave her more of his weight. Their kisses turned desperate as he worked himself within her, angling his hips the way he knew she liked, burying himself in her again and again as if he could stay there.

This time, her orgasm was slow to gather, but he didn’t mind. He lost himself in the way she smiled at him, the soft moans and the breathy gasps, the feel of her stretching around him, the revelation that was being with her like this. For the next few hours, nothing mattered more than the gorgeous woman writhing beneath him as he hit the secret spot deep inside that made her shake.

“Come for me. Been waiting months to feel you come on my cock again.”

She slid a hand between them until her fingers found her clit and he leaned back to watch as she stroked herself in time to his thrusts. He wanted to memorize it, to remember every goosebump, every shockwave rolling through her body, to be able to close his eyes and play back the sight of her touching herself as he fucked her.

“That’s it,” he purred as her inner muscles fluttered around him faster, tighter, warning of her impending release. “That’s my girl. Let me feel it, sweetheart. Take what’s yours.”

She arched off the bed, her legs going stiff, toes pointing, as she clamped down around him, drawing his own orgasm from him as hers took hold. He fell forward, resting his forehead against her chest as he drove into her once, twice, then froze, electricity shooting down his spine as he filled the condom. She smoothed the hair back from his forehead and he pressed his lips to her sternum.

“Missed you,” he said.

His chest ached with the words he was holding back. How he hadn’t been able to see another woman for the last year without wishing he was with her instead. How around six months ago, after the last time they’d gotten together, he’d stopped even trying. How many times he pulled up her number while he lay alone in his bed, wondering where she was, what she was doing. Wondering if he’d ever see her again.

“Missed you too,” she said, and his heart swelled with foolish hope.

Once the condom was disposed of, he crawled back into bed beside her, gathering her against his chest. She snuggled down into him, her hips doing that happy little wiggle thing he was sure she didn’t realize she did.

“I’m glad you came.” He arched an eyebrow at her and she shoved at his chest playfully, rolling her eyes. “You know what I mean. I’m glad you came to Boston.”

“Me too.”

He pressed a kiss to her hair, smoothed his hands over her back, and for a moment, let himself imagine how it would be if she was his. If he didn’t leave her each time wondering if he’d ever hear from her again, if he was an asshole for hoping he would—because hearing from Hannah meant she was still single. It meant she hadn’t found her happily ever after yet. While he loved being the man she called whenever she was in town, she deserved the whole fairytale, not just whatever they were.

But what if they were more? What if he could give her the fairytale—if they could give it to each other?

They hardly knew each other but what he did know, he liked. And there was no denying they were compatible. Relationships had been built on less.

“Hey, Han,” he said into the fading light of the hotel room, careful to keep her face tucked against his chest so she couldn’t look at him for the next part. “What if we did this more often?”

“I'm not sure how much more often I’ll be in Boston this year.”

“No. I mean, what if we saw each other outside of this hotel? You could come to visit me and I could go see you. Fuck, I don’t even know where you live. What if we—”

She pulled away and sat up beside him, her brow furrowed and her face serious.Shit.He knew that look. “Ethan—”

“Never mind.” He scrubbed his hands over his face and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed so his back was to her.Way to ruin it.“It was a stupid idea.”

“My life is…complicated at the moment. I’m working through some things—”

“You don’t have to explain. Really.” He shot her what he hoped was a reassuring look over his shoulder. “Forget it.”

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