Night Owl

CHAPTER 28

Hannah

NATE DETAINED ME on my way to the basement.

"Hannah. I'm not sure if we'll get to talk again. You know, without Matt looming." He waved a hand and laughed. He looked apologetic.

Over the last five days, I sensed that Nate was giving me the brother test—making sure I was good enough for Matt, or insane enough. Casual conversations about my job or interests turned to grilling sessions, after which Nate was aloof and broody.

And as we cleaned the cabin, Nate periodically surveyed the wreckage and announced, "This is the way Matt is." His tone was always the same—uncompromising, almost proud—and I caught his meaning perfectly.

This is the way Matt is; take it or leave it.

Nate didn't realize that I was already all in.

Then, when Matt refused to see me in the hospital and I stayed on helping clean the cabin and pack, Nate's attitude started to change.

He began to talk openly about Matt's substance abuse.

I learned that Matt had detoxed half a dozen times before. He'd been in and out of hospitals and rehab. He'd also been to court more than once for drug possession, public intoxication, and drunk driving, always handily evading charges with the family lawyer.

Nate told me endless anecdotes about Matt. Funny stories. Scary stories. I drank it all in. I understood that Nate loved Matt desperately, and so we had something in common.

I paused with my hand on the basement door.

"Sure," I said, "what's up?"

I'd spent the last thirty minutes locked in conversation with Matt's niece, then Nate's wife, and finally admiring Owen's Lego collection. I was itching to get to Matt.

"Oh, nothing particular." Nate loosened his collar. The guy ran on mysterious funds of energy. After a week of flying, driving, cleaning, and packing, he didn't even look tired. "I've seen him go through this, you know. It's important that he take his meds."

"I know. I'll make sure he does."

"It won't be easy for a while, Hannah. He usually needs some time to snap out of it."

"The drinking?" I frowned. I was not equipped to rehab Matt, much as I wanted to.

"Oh, no. I doubt he'll drink. That was very situational."

Very situational. Very much my fault.

"What I mean is, he may not seem like his old self for a while. I'm sure you've noticed some of that already."

I nodded.

"And he's not your responsibility," Nate went on. "I'll arrange tickets for you two tomorrow, if I can, but if that's too soon—" He frowned. He was having a rare struggle with words. "Rather, you've done all I hoped, Hannah. More than I hoped. Please don't feel—well, you know I can keep him here for a while. I would do it happily. I would do anything for him."

Nate was staring up at the large, arched window above the front door. Afternoon sunlight warmed his face. Looking at him—his patience and seriousness—I knew that he meant what he said. He would do anything for Matt.

And still, I didn't doubt for a moment where Matt would be happiest.

No one could love him like I loved him. He belonged with me.

"Tomorrow is perfect," I said. I fully planned to reimburse Nate for the last-minute airfare, somehow. "The sooner we get back to our lives, the better."

"My thoughts exactly, Hannah. I'll move forward with the tickets then. You can run it by Matt, if you don't mind. And thank you, again. He's lucky to have you."

Nate kissed my cheek. The brush of his lips was so formal and chaste, but all I could think of was Matt's jealous stare. He'd hit the roof if he saw this.

I closed the basement door behind me.

I expected to find Matt asleep, but when I got downstairs I heard the shower running. Our suitcases stood in the bedroom. I pried off my boots and paced the plush carpet.

Valerie seemed nice enough, but holy hideous decorating scheme. She'd turned Nate's mansion into a dollhouse.

The shower ran... and ran as I paced.

I cased the kitchenette. There were sodas, fruit, and sandwich stuff in the fridge. That would do if Matt got hungry. Should I make him eat? God, I had no idea what I was doing.

I began to undress, laying my jeans and sweater over my suitcase. I shimmied out of my bra and thong. I didn't need a shower—I had one that morning—but I needed to be with Matt.

I let myself into the bathroom. Steam filled the spacious interior.

The girl in me got giddy looking at that bathroom. Valerie's princess décor may have failed in the house, but it worked like magic here. The rugs were lush, the towels fluffy and huge, and the sink brimmed with candles, lotions, and perfumes.

I shut the door loudly to announce my presence. When I drew back the shower curtain, I found Matt standing under the water, staring lifelessly at the drain. Our eyes met; he rolled his away with dog-like diffidence.

He may not seem like his old self for a while.

I stepped into the shower and eased my body under the spray.

"I guess we both like a hot shower," I said, my mouth near his ear.

He grimaced and looked away.

I didn't need anyone to tell me that Matt was mortified. I had seen him at his lowest. He would never willingly show me that.

I also didn't need anyone to tell me that Matt was happy to see me. His grimace notwithstanding, I felt his stiffening member touch my leg. I brushed against it and watched his eyelids flutter.

Between guilt and desire, he was static. I took his hand and brought it to my breast. He squeezed gently and I moaned.

God... that touch, did he know what it did to me?

"Matt, touch me. I've been desperate for you, please."

My hands devoured his body. I cringed as I felt ridges of bone.

For the pure pleasure of it, I ran a bar of soap along his skin. I slicked my fingers up his back and lathered shampoo into his hair.

Gradually, Matt began to touch me.

He was cautious at first, caressing my shoulders, arms, and sides. He watched his hands, never my eyes. His cock hardened between us. When I touched it, he covered my breasts.

He lifted them and circled my nipples with his tongue. He touched me as though he'd never touched me before.

His fingertips danced over my sex. I groaned and tried to grind onto his hand, but nothing could rush him. He touched me wonderingly; he spread my folds and fingered me as I panted. My god, I couldn't bear this slow torture.


I was anything but sweet in Hannah's absence. The Librium dragged me into a nap, after which I ranged through the condo feeling sick.

Writing was out of the question.

Hannah paid special attention to our "office" furnishings, making me choose the desk and transition my whole library over, but that didn't inspire me to write.

Nothing did.

More often than not, I avoided the room. The only thing I actually wrote was a letter to Wendy. I thanked her for her transcription services and included a check. Severance pay, I called it. I apologized for my hasty departure and promised to visit one day.

Another loose end tied up. What now? I felt like a dog waiting for his master to come home. Five o'clock rolled around and I stood on the balcony watching for Hannah.

Once, I got it in my head to follow her to work. I thought I might feel better being closer to her. I trailed her into the agency and deposited myself on a bench in the lobby.

Pam found me there, of course.

"Matthew." She looked at me quizzically. "How wonderful to see you."

"Mm. Hi Pam." I picked at the cuff of my sleeve.

"Are you—" She glanced around the empty lobby. "Did you need to see me?"

"No, just sitting."

"Ah." Pam blinked and nodded.

God, go away Pam. I was counting down the seconds until she asked about my writing, but she never did.

"Well, it's great to see you, again." She pat-squeezed my shoulder. I was starting to hate that gesture. Nothing says I view you as an invalid quite like the shoulder pat-squeeze.

As if the run-in with Pam weren't enough, a tour group appeared in the lobby a few hours later. They were mostly college-aged—probably a creative writing class.

I angled my body toward the wall.

The tour guide's voice began to drone.

"The Granite Wing Agency is one of Denver's literary landmarks. It was founded—"

"Oh my god!" a student enthused. I heard footfalls approaching. A young woman came to stand practically on my feet. "Are you—? Oh my god. Can you—? Oh my god, it's M. Pierce."

The tour group closed in like a school of piranhas. I was off the Librium by then and my Xanax was at the condo. Basically I was f*cked.

M. Pierce, M. Pierce, M. Pierce. It was all I could hear.

Little did those a*sholes know, my pen name had become a source of major anxiety for me. I never wanted to hear it. It reminded me of losing Hannah, and it made me feel like I was losing her again.

"Please," I mumbled, my ears ringing.

Even the tour guide was soliciting my attention.

"Leave him alone!" Hannah's voice echoed through the lobby. I was on my feet facing the corner, my head in my hands.

Hannah collided with the cluster of students and body checked the young woman into a wall. She threw her arms around me.

"Baby, come on."

She guided me out of the building.

After that, I rarely left the condo.

Hannah was careful never to ask about my writing, though sometimes I saw her riffling through my pages. She probably assumed I was writing on the computer. I let her think so.

We watched movies together, my favorites and hers—Legends of the Fall, Wonder Boys, Good Will Hunting.

We read aloud to one another.

Hannah tried to teach me how to cook. Pan-fried pork chops ended with me lying on the kitchen floor, covered in flour.

On Halloween, we went to her parents' house and handed out candy, watching the trick-or-treaters from the porch.

Chrissy "apologized" for Macing me in the face. ("You deserved it," she said. "I know," I told her.)

We f*cked all over the condo—in the shower, on the couch, in bed, against walls. I knew I wasn't the same, of course, and I knew Hannah felt the change.

For one thing, silence replaced my rapacious dirty talk. Hannah had to coax the words out of me. And for another, I couldn't bring myself to get rough with Hannah.

Maybe I still felt guilty. I don't know.

I kept waiting for something to click into place, but it wasn't happening, and the more it didn't happen, the more nervous I got. How long would my tame lovemaking satisfy Hannah?

She didn't say a word about it, but she struggled to inspire me. She went strutting around the condo in nothing but a thong and bustier. She cleaned in a skirt, no panties, and bent over every available surface. She slept naked, too. Each morning I woke with a hard-on pressed against her soft skin.

God, I was lucky.

And f*ck, I was unhappy.

When Hannah left for work, she took all of my happiness with her, and the void left in me was my essential misery.

I woke to an empty condo on Saturday.

I loped through the rooms in a state of mild panic.

"Where's Hannah?" I asked Laurence.

I tried her cell. It rang and rang and went to voicemail.

I threw on a bathrobe and stood out on the balcony, watching the street. The November sunlight was deceptive. I shivered and paced.

I was still out there at noon, probably looking like a bum, when Hannah came striding up the sidewalk. She spotted me on the balcony and waved.

"Go inside!" She laughed. She was carrying two bags. "It's freezing!"

I shuffled inside and waited for her on the landing. Hannah took the stairs two at a time and kissed me on the mouth.

"Hi," I said through the kiss.

She giggled as I tried to get her against the wall.

"In!" she huffed, slipping away from me. I followed her into the condo and helped her out of her coat. I loomed, trying to get a look at her shopping bags.

"I called. Where were you?"

"Making secret purchases." Hannah darted to the bedroom and returned with only one bag. From it, she produced a box of gourmet cupcakes. They were piled high with icing—more icing than cake. I smiled as she pushed one on me.

"Happy birthday, Matt," she whispered.

I blinked, reeling for a beat. Birthday? My watch and phone were in the bedroom. I glanced at the kitchen calendar. November 9th.

"Holy shit," I said.

"You forgot your own birthday, didn't you?" Hannah took my face between her hands and kissed me longingly. Without looking, I slid my cupcake onto the counter. I pulled her close.

"I think I did," I murmured, kissing my way down her neck. She pushed my bathrobe off my shoulders. Hannah was wearing a form-fitting sweater dress and leggings. The outfit showed off her beautiful body.

"I have another present for you." Hannah took my hand and pulled me toward the bedroom. I gazed at her ass as it swayed from side to side.

I knew I was about the get the blowjob of a lifetime.

Until Hannah started going through her other shopping bag.

She looked uneasy.

"Can you take off your boxers?" She glanced at me.

"Um... yeah." I slid my boxers down my legs. Suddenly things were awkward. Hannah was fully dressed and I was standing there semi-hard, totally naked, and very confused.

She wrestled with some packaging and withdrew a blindfold from the bag. Oh. Hannah and I hadn't tried anything kinky since... well, since four months ago when I tied her to my bed. Did she think I could do that now? Could I?

"I see how it is," I said, laughing nervously.

"Do you?" There was a glimmer of mischief in Hannah's eyes. She slid behind me and told me to close my eyes, then she tied the blindfold onto me.

"Okay, maybe I don't see." I grinned and held the footboard. Blindfolded blowjob. I could definitely get into this.

Hannah guided me over to the bed and I stretched out on my back. My cock twitched in anticipation. God, I wanted to feel her hot tongue on my dick...

If only I could say that.

I heard Hannah's clothes hitting the floor. My senses intensified in the absence of sight. I could smell Hannah's honeysuckle perfume and a few of our candles. The warm air of the room seemed to gust over my skin.

"You look so good," Hannah purred. She climbed over me and I sighed as her creamy skin brushed mine. She drew my wrist toward a bedpost. My grin faltered.

"Oh, really?" I chuckled as she began to tie me to the bed.

"Yes, really." Hannah's breasts brushed my face as she worked, tying my wrists with soft cords to the upper bedposts. I mouthed at her nipples blindly.

"Not yet," she whispered, lifting them beyond my reach. F*ck...

She tied each of my ankles to the bottom bedposts. I swallowed and tried to move. Damn, Hannah tied a good knot. I was spread eagle and nearly immobile.

No lover had ever bound me before. I always cracked the whip—literally and figuratively. And truth be told, I wasn't sure how much I liked this.

Hannah straddled my torso.

"Do you want to suck on me, Matt? Do you want to taste my skin?"

"Mm..."

"You have to tell me exactly what you want."

"Your breasts."

I felt Hannah hovering over my face. A stiff nipple rubbed at my lips, but when I moved to suck it she moved away.

"Please," I whispered. Instinctively, I tried to yank my arms free.

"Please what?"

"Let me... suck on your nipples, come on."

I was rewarded with a pert nipple between my lips. I gasped and felt my cock thickening. I sucked hungrily at Hannah's breast, biting down and tugging to make her yelp.

Crazy girl, she had a lot more coming to her if she kept this up.

"The other," I snarled. "Give me the other."

Hannah obliged me and I swirled my tongue over her other nipple.

"Alright, that's enough." She moved away. I turned my head on the pillow and stared into the blackness of my blindfolded eyes.

The mattress shifted.

Suddenly Hannah's sex pressed against my mouth, smothering me.

"Mm!" I groaned and began to lap at her slit.

She tasted like desire, and she was hot and soaked.

"Oh god, Matt," she panted. I pictured her sitting astride me, her p-ssy resting on my face. Her fingertips tweaked my nipples and I jerked on the bed.

"Touch me!" My words came out muffled against Hannah's cunt. She rubbed it over my face, smearing her arousal on my nose and lips. I f*cked her with my tongue.

At last, Hannah's fingers wrapped around my cock. She flicked her tongue over my tip. I tried to thrust into her mouth, but I couldn't move.

"What do you want?" Hannah lifted her sex from my face. I breathed raggedly.

"My cock, god—suck it Hannah."

Hannah wriggled her tongue against the tiny hole in the head of my cock.

"Ah! God, please," I whispered. "Suck my cock, please..."

Was I not saying something right? I wrenched my arms and legs helplessly. My erect member throbbed, aching for stimulation.

Hannah giggled and climbed off of me. She left me panting on the bed. Holy f*ck. I licked my lips, tasting her musky sweetness.

"I was just getting you ready," she murmured. "I'm not going to tease you on your birthday, Matt, but I needed you hard. Are you ready?"

"F*ck, yes," I snapped. How the hell did I look? I was ready for anything. Her mouth, her p-ssy—I just needed Hannah on my dick.

I heard some indeterminate rustling. A cold hand grasped my cock. I hissed and tensed. Hannah began to stroke me, spreading a copious amount of lube along my shaft. It trickled over my balls and I moaned.


"Baby, it's—"

"Shhh." Hannah stilled my lips with a clean finger.

She climbed over me and positioned my sex. My slick tip slid along her crack, stopping in the dimple of her anus. I flexed my thighs, trying to push my cock up toward Hannah's p-ssy, but she held it steady against the puckered entrance of her ass.

"Happy birthday, lover," she whispered. She began to lower herself. I felt my cockhead spreading an improbably tight ring of muscle. I tensed from head to toe.

"What—what are you doing?"

The reply from Hannah was a long, low moan. I trembled in my restraints. My god... she was going to take me into her ass.

"Oh, f*ck," I grunted. My breaths grew shallow. "Oh... oh..."

All at once, my head popped into Hannah's ass. She cried out—and I cried out, thrashing helplessly. It felt so good, it almost hurt. My heart drummed in my chest.

"More," I pleaded.

"More of what?" Hannah said, her voice strained but even. "Tell me. Tell me everything. Never deny me, Matt."

Never deny me.

I said those words to Hannah months ago.

"Your ass," I growled. "Mm... Hannah, get on my dick."

"God, Matt..."

Hannah lowered herself inch by agonizing inch. I could do nothing but wait—and as I waited, I felt my tongue loosening. I couldn't deny the incredible eroticism of the moment: Hannah making me f*ck her ass for the first time, my strong body helpless.

"F*ck, god, your ass," I moaned. "Your tight ass, you want my cock inside of it Hannah?"

"Yes," she breathed.

At last, Hannah sat on my groin, my dick deep inside of her.

"Comfortable?" I gasped. "God, Hannah, my beautiful slut..."

"So full..."

"That's r-right," I growled. "Now ride my dick."

Trying to call the shots while bound should have been an exercise in frustration, but Hannah obeyed me. She loved to obey me. And I loved to call the shots.

She began to bounce on my cock, the tight grip of her ass stroking me hard.

"F*ck!" I writhed. I wanted to squeeze her tits. I wanted to spank her ass.

Lube squelched in the silence and Hannah's cheeks slapped at my thighs.

"Faster, f*ck," I panted. "Nn... make me come. Listen to your ass Hannah, f*ck..."

"Oh god, oh god..." Hannah's pace became frenzied. I jerked in my bonds. She reached behind her cleft and cupped my balls, fondling them. I gasped as jets of cum shot from me.

"Hannah, I'm coming!" I moaned. "God, Hannah—"

Hannah's bottom milked out the last of my desire. I began to struggle at once, baring my teeth like an animal. So help me god, I would tear these silly cords.

"Untie me... now," I growled.