“He said, ‘Never, Mutt. Not one time did I ever see them fight and that’s not good.’ Now I was probably ten or eleven when I asked. So his answer confused me. I thought that people fighting was bad in a relationship, not the other way around, so I asked him to explain. He told me that when I grew up I’d understand it a little more. Then he told me the key to having a long happy life with someone was finding someone you liked fighting with.
“That day, after you asked that, and I said what I said back, on the way home it made me smile. Don’t get me wrong—I don’t want to fight with you—but I don’t think I’d mind it either.”
I wanted to kiss her, but held off for her to continue.
“You’re hot when you’re pissed. And, for those first few weeks, even though you didn’t say anything else that was rude, there were days when you were working things out in your head, and you had every right to. It was your home. You were going through some changes. But being around you like that, if that was what you were like when you didn’t feel at your best, I knew you were worth hanging around a little more. I knew you were special.”
Where had she been my whole life? Here. She’d been here, as if she were waiting for me.
Hannah shrugged as I watched her grin like she was confessing something scandalous.
“And the hot thing. One time I saw you get so mad you clenched your teeth, balled your fists, and looked like you were going to scream, but then you scanned around for me, and didn’t make a sound. Pissed and fine as they come.”
I had to agree with her grandpa. Rachelle and I never fought. And at the very end, when we did a little, I didn’t like it. I didn’t like that side of her.
That morning when Hannah fired back, then kept right on working on my house—in her free time no less—even when I wasn’t the best company, said a lot about the kind of person she was.
Also, I really liked hearing that she thought I was hot.
I couldn’t hold back anymore. If there was more to the story, it could wait. I kissed her, because that’s what you do when someone looks as sexy as she did lying in that bed.
While she kissed me back, I thought about the night before and how it had been exactly what I’d wanted. What I’d needed.
Her body was made for me. Every soft curve. Every corner and bend, I wanted to touch and claim for my own. I wanted it all. The freckles and scars, the whimpers and moans as she fell apart in my arms. The look of wonder in her eyes when I tasted her, and knowing that I’d been the only man to please her in that way.
I’d had sex, and I’d done my share of fucking, but it had never been like we were together.
Never that powerful. Never that intense. I’d never craved for more as bad as I did in that moment with her.
That morning was the first of dozens.
Well rested. Satisfied from the night before, but ready to go again.
I learned she was very affectionate as soon as she woke up, and often that was when she was the sweetest with her words. She was always pleasant, but catching her as soon as she woke up was like she hadn’t turned her sarcasm on yet.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like the smart-ass side of her, but I especially loved the mornings.
Sometimes we were at her cabin, other times we were in my bed. I liked both, but there was an element of having her in my bed with me that made it feel more like home.
She got into a habit of leaving me notes in my SUV if she had to leave earlier than I did, to go home, or to open the shop.
Some were sweet, because she’d just been asleep and was still only partially awake.
Things like:
V-
I’m so glad I was running late for dinner the night you moved to Wynne.
H
Or,
V-
I’m thinking about a sunset boat ride, but the boat is out of gas. Don’t buy any. I’ll get the wine. ;)
H
That was the day she’d gone shopping with Sunny in Browning. That night I found her waiting for me on her boat wearing a pale pink silk thing that made me ask her where she’d bought it, in case I was just too careless and ruined it completely on purpose.
The sex got better and better. She was bossy, and totally in control in everyday life, and so beautifully and confidently submissive to my every wish, my every move. Which only fueled me to please her more. Making her come harder. Louder. And over and over again, even when she swore she was wrung dry. When she’d say she could barely handle it, I pushed just a little further and she’d melt into my mouth, or my fingers, or my cock.
Our conversations were just as fun as they’d always been. She’d argue with me, or I’d argue with her, and then she’d wink, mouthing the words, “You’re so hot.”
She said she didn’t want to label us, and I didn’t push it, but she ended up being the one to call me her boyfriend in public first.
Sunny had a friend in town, from a different radio station, and we ran into them at the summer carnival.
“Hey, this is Julia, the friend I told you guys about,” Sunny had said as she walked up to us just as we’d finished eating our second corndogs.
Julia was petite and cute, but she had nothing on Hannah. And even though I hated that she was insecure at that moment, I also liked how she’d needed Julia to know I was hers.