A Place to Call Home (31 page)

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Authors: Christina James

Tags: #Contemporary, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction, #Romance

BOOK: A Place to Call Home
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“Don’t tease me, Austin. Payback will be swift,” she said, her ass lifting off the bed toward his mouth.

 

“Temper, temper, darling.” His laugh only earned him a glare when she leaned up to look down her belly.

 

But he couldn’t resist the inviting pussy in front of him any longer. His fingers parted her slick lips before his mouth covered her.

 

“Yes!” she cried out.

 

His tongue licked along her pussy, slipping in and out of the slit, sucking over the clit. His hands cupped her ass, lifting her to his mouth. He couldn’t get enough of her sweet taste. The wetness on his tongue from her creamy arousal caused his cock to throb against his jeans. Having her naked while he remained dressed had been a reasonable way to help control his excitement and keep him from coming before fucking her. But now it gave him another obstacle. He’d have to leave her hot body to undress.

 

“Austin, I’m so close. I want to come. Please.”

 

He glanced up at her. “Then come, baby.”

 

Inserting a finger into her heated channel, he stroked her slick walls, using his thumb to manipulate her clit in short, tight circles.

 

When her butt lifted off of the bed, she cried out. “I’m coming. Don’t. Stop.”

 

He replaced his thumb with his mouth and sucked hard on her clit until the first wave of her orgasm crashed over her. The tight muscles of her pussy clenched around his finger that he’d buried deep inside her. With his tongue, he licked and laved at her drinking the sweet juices her body offered until she lay limp on the bed, her cries silenced, her body finishing the last of the magnificent spasms.

 

Removing his finger, he licked it clean of her sweetness. Her eyes widened when she witnessed him enjoy his treat. He rose, undressed, and sheathed his cock with a condom before settling beside her on the bed. He turned her until she spooned against him, and his cock nudged at her pussy from behind. Lifting her leg and resting it over his calf, he took the access he needed to slide into her tight, wet pussy.

 

“Mmmm,” she moaned.

 

With his free hand, he brushed the hair from her neck and suckled the tender skin under her ear. Her perfume teased his senses, flashbacks of when she’d first slept in his bed reminding him of his good fortune the day she’d arrived in town.

 

His hips pumped into her. The feel of her ass against his pelvis only served to excite him more, and the memory of the spanking filled his mind. God, she’d been unbelievably hot twisting and turning while he’d held her over his knees, his hand spanking her lovely bottom. And more, she’d been aroused too.

 

His cock pushed deeper into her, his steady rhythm speeding up with the building of his orgasm. He hadn’t wanted to come so soon, but after feasting on her sweet pussy and feeling it tighten around his finger, he’d barely been able to hold off long enough to bury his cock deep inside her tight hole.

 

 “Austin, I love this position. I feel you so deep. Go faster.”

 

When she pushed her ass back, he responded with a hard thrust. The simple movement prompted his balls to tighten with the explosion of his release. His body tensed and load after load of hot cum filled the condom. Around his dick, her pussy muscles quivered then erupted in a huge convulsion. She bucked and wiggled, his arms holding her in place until they both lay spent.

 

Sliding his cock out of her, Mac disposed of the condom before slipping back into bed and pulling the covers up over them.

 

Realizing she’d dozed off, he whispered, “Sweet dreams, my love.”

 

Mac wrapped his arms around her to keep her close. With his lips against her neck, he awaited sleep and wondered whether he’d had any luck in changing her mind about leaving.

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Six

 

The next day Hannah had turned her apartment upside down with supplies for her display cases. At each site she liked to exhibit the various decorations she offered for the function room rental. She offered a full-catered service for those wanting to hold a party, so she needed decorations for all occasions and currently struggled with putting together some stubborn bridal shower favors.

 

When her doorbell rang, she wanted to scream. “Austin, just let yourself in. I’m busy.”

 

It rang again.

 

Hannah didn’t scream but stomped to the door, since she couldn’t answer the intercom with the boxes piled up in front of it. Her temper had already been riled from fighting with ribbon for twenty minutes. Looking through the peephole, a pretty woman stood there on the other side. Great just what she needed. Someone selling cosmetics or something.

 

She opened the door. “Yes. Can I help you?”

 

“Are you Hannah O’Leary?”

 

“Yes. And you are?”

 

“Jane VonFlagan. Mac’s wife.”

 

Hannah’s heart skipped a beat. “I think you mean ex-wife,” she snarled, losing her civility. So this is what the witch looked like. Did she have to be gorgeous? Tall, slender, blonde, golden eyes. But then again rich people could afford to be beautiful.

 

And Hannah was rich, maybe not as rich as Jane, but Hannah wished she’d been dressed instead of standing in Mac’s old T-shirt and her frayed denim shorts. On second thought, Hannah didn’t give a damn how she had dressed.

 

“May I come in?”

 

Hell no, she wanted to scream. “Now’s not a good time. I have stuff everywhere.”

 

Jane lifted her nose in the air. “Believe me, I don’t want to sit down, just to come out of this wretched heat before my hair comes undone.”

 

“Oh, then by all means come in. We wouldn’t want any hairstyle emergencies.” Hannah allowed her in only enough to shut the door and stood in front of her with her arms folded. “So what do I owe this pleasure, Jane?”

 

“Well, I just got back from spending the day with my boys.”

 

Hannah scoffed. “The day? It’s noon. I just left them at ten. That’s two hours.”

 

“I got there at eleven.”

 

“Okay. So to clarify that means you spent an hour with them. Wow. Record breaker.”

 

“Believe me, the hour felt like the day.”

 

Hannah tightened her fists and mentally counted to ten while she walked farther into the room. Jane followed.

 

“Anyway, all the boys talked about was you.”

 

Hannah’s heart melted. “Me? So what?”

 

Jane looked down her nose. “It was Hannah this and Hannah that. You can understand how boring that is?”

 

“No. I can’t. I happen to enjoy Hannah stories.” She crossed her arms when she really wanted to choke the broad.

 

“I didn’t care to have to listen about one of Mac’s, um, playthings. So I had to come over and see for myself just who this woman is that seems to be around my children so much.”

 

Hannah stepped close. “Go to hell, lady. You’re not coming in my house and interviewing me.”

 

Jane shrugged. “I was just curious as to what makes you so special.” Jane glanced around the apartment. “From the look of how you live, I can see not much.”

 

Oh, she wanted to claw her eyes out. “Or maybe it’s because I’m everything you’re not.”

 

“How dare you talk to me like that!”

 

“Don’t waltz your snotty ass into my house expecting me to bow to you.” Anger pulsed through Hannah for her talking like this. The woman had definitely overstayed her welcome. “And you have a fucking nerve to question my association with the boys when you’re their goddamn mother and don’t even know their fucking ages.”

 

“I will speak with Mac right away about him bringing trash like you around my boys.”

 

“They’re not your boys,” Hannah yelled, her temper exploding. “They’re Mac’s. You gave up any rights when you abandoned them.”

 

Jane remained calm, hardly interested in the conversation by the dull expression on of her painted face. “Oh, please. Is Mac telling his stories again? You know I’m getting so fed up with hearing how I abandoned my boys and how Mac is Father of the Year.”

 

“He is that,” Hannah said. “And he’s doing it all on his own.”

 

Jane waved a manicured hand in the air. “Too bad. That’s what he wanted. I never wanted any of the kids. He made me have them instead of getting an abortion. Thought I was a baby factory.”

 

Hannah’s mouth fell open, shocked at the woman’s bluntness. “You were his wife. What the hell did you marry him for?”

 

“Not that it’s any of your business but only because I got pregnant. Please,” she laughed, the hint of mockery in her tone. “I would never have married him otherwise. I was just waiting for a bigger fish to come along and instead I ended up with a guppy.”

 

Hannah stiffened her spine. The arrogant bitch wasn’t going to speak like that in her house. “Don’t talk about Mac like that. He’s a better person than you could ever hope to be. Why are you so upset that I’m in his life when you don’t give a damn about him or the boys?”

 

Jane laughed. “Because I’m a bit bored. I simply enjoy throwing my money in his face. It’s an adrenaline rush. It doesn’t surprise me that he’s still a loser, especially from the looks of you.”

 

That did it. Hannah jumped on Jane and took her down to the floor. They bumped into the boxes and sent them flying with a loud crashing noise. Hannah slapped at Jane, trying to get a hold of her arms to shake sense into the stupid woman. When Jane resorted to yanking Hannah’s hair, Hannah yelped and grabbed Jane’s. The blonde hair had been matted solidly in place with hairspray, so much so it deemed hard to grasp, but when Hannah finally fisted it, she yanked hard. Jane screeched and kicked at Hannah’s legs with her stiletto shoes. A kitchen chair Hannah had been using for a file cabinet tipped over, taking with it more boxes. Smashing sounds exploded while Hannah got the best of Jane and finally grabbed her by the upper arms shaking her.

 

Just then Mac burst through the front door.

 

“What the hell?” he yelled, his eyes bulging, mouth opened wide.

 

Behind him Aidan stood speechless. Mac knocked boxes out of the way to reach the women but had a difficult time in the cramped entranceway. Hannah ignored Mac and concentrated on Jane.

 

“You listen to me, you little bitch,” she yelled into Jane’s face, sitting on top of the woman. “If you ever insult Mac or his boys again, you’ll need a truck load of Botox to put your face back together. You should be ashamed of yourself having three great kids and not even knowing their fucking birthdays.” Hannah shook Jane again. “What’s wrong with you? You listen real good, the next time you come knocking on my door thinking you’re a match for me you’d better bring a lot more to the table than a fancy manicure, fake boobs and bleached hair. You got that, you witch?”

 

“Hannah. Jesus. Stop it both of you.” Mac raised Hannah into the air and placed her behind him.

 

Mac lifted Jane as well, snatched up her purse and threw it to her. He turned to Hannah. “You stay inside until I get back.”

 

“Sure,” Hannah said without hesitation, glaring at Jane.

 

“Christ! Aidan, make sure she stays put. And I mean watch her. She agreed too fast.” Mac glanced back at Hannah then hauled Jane around toppled boxes and dragged her outside.

 

“Wow, Hannah,” Aidan spoke softly. “We thought your dad came back with all the noise. We could hear it all the way downstairs.”

 

Hannah’s temper left her. What she saw broke her heart. Aidan may be seventeen but all before her stood the nine-year-old boy that Jane had abandoned. Hannah contemplated running out to give Jane one more solid smack to her fake hair but Aidan’s expression stopped her.

 

“Aidan.” Hannah approached him, cupped his chin. “I’m so sorry you just witnessed that. I lost it with the way she strutted in here talking and, well, I should’ve handled it better.”

 

“I think you did just fine,” Aidan said.

 

“Are you all right?” Hannah asked.

 

“Yeah.” He pulled his chin away, his bravado crumpling, and shouted, “No. Why doesn’t my own mother like me?”

 

Hannah froze. She wasn’t the person to handle this. Where the hell was Mac?

 

“I mean what did I ever do to her?” He reverted to that abandoned nine-year-old boy. “What did Ryan do? Or Luke? God, Luke doesn’t even know her like Ryan and me.”

 

He started crying, tears streaming down his face. Before Hannah realized it, Aidan fell into her arms. She hugged him fiercely, fighting her own tears.

 

“Let it out, Aidan. You’ll feel better,” she said with a soft voice, rubbing the back of his head, her arms providing a band of protection around him. “Your mother doesn’t deserve you boys, honey. It’s not your fault or Ryan’s or Luke’s. It’s not even your dad’s fault. Some people just aren’t meant to have children.”

 

Hannah held his face in her hands and stared him in the eyes. “When I look at you I see a young man, who is making his dad so proud by following in his footsteps and doing a great job at work, applying himself, challenging himself to learn. Honey, it’s her loss. She doesn’t know what a great man her oldest boy is becoming, and how much his younger brothers idolize him. And she doesn’t know how very special you are, Aidan. Don’t keep the hurt in. Trust me. It doesn’t help. You have to let it all out or you’ll never be able to move on.”

 

Aidan clung to Hannah’s waist, fisting his hands in her T-shirt. Then he lowered his head to her shoulder and cried. She held him using all her strength to hold him up.

 

Over his shoulder she noticed Mac witnessing his son’s pain, the horrified expression reflecting his son’s pain. She motioned for him to leave them and he did, but not before mouthing, “Thank you.”

 

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