HARD CRUSH BONUS SCENE

A sexy, sweet peek at Hank and Abby's happily ever after in action... 

©Mira Lyn Kelly

Hank

Two months after the story ends (and four years before epilogue)…

 Hip propped against the bathroom vanity, I stare at the carnage in my palm and then up at tragic expression on Abby’s face… and try not to laugh.

We’re both half-dressed, I’ve still got a splotch of shaving cream on my jaw and she’s wearing a peachy bra and panty set I’m pretty fucking fond of. But we’ve got a situation.

“I don’t know what happened,” she says, wringing her hands in front of her. “I was just reading Helen’s texts about NCIS predictions and then I sort of tripped and knocked into the chair and it must have fallen under the leg or something because when I sat...”

“That’s when you heard the crunch?” I ask, running a hand over my mouth to hide the smile.

“Hank, can you fix it?”

Turning the shattered device on its side, I watch what I can only assume is the Venti coffee I picked up this morning dribble from between the splintered pieces.

How did she get coffee in--?

I shake my head. Failure Analysis is going to have a field day with this.

There’s a part of me that really wants to fix it. Show her that I can do anything she needs. Be her hero… but we’ve both got to be at the school in thirty minutes. “I’m thinking maybe it’s time to let this one go, sweetheart.”

She sighs, her shoulders drooping. “I love that phone.”

“I know.” It was Military Grade. Survived a pre-soak white-cycle with bleach and a tumble into a 450 degree oven. And that’s just in the two months since I moved into Abby’s place. God only knows what it went through before that.

Leaning in, I drop a kiss on her temple and walk past her, back into our bedroom and to the drawer that holds my socks, underwear, and once, for a very brief time—because we’d waited long enough already—the rock currently scattering refracted light around my wife’s ring finger. Reaching the back of the drawer, I pull a sleek black box from the depths.

“What’s that?” she asks, peering around my side in a way that brings the soft curves of her body into a close press against my bare back.

Nice.

Her breath catches and then she’s bouncing against me. “Hank! You had another phone in there?”

I smile. I have three. Just in case.

And then her arms are around my neck and she’s pulling me down to pepper my jaw and cheek with kisses. “My hero.” More kisses, and I’m pulling her legs up around my waist. “Thank you. Thank you!”

“Pretty sure I should be thanking you, because this turn of events is definitely going my way.” I walk her back to our bed, but before I can lay her back, she squeaks and squirms out of my arms.

I wait, because that little lip-biting look of indecision on her face says things could still go my way. Pretty sure they won’t though, because this is Abby and she’d rather roll around in broken glass than let her kids down. Even when I’m standing here, mentally compiling sixteen different ways to get her off in five minutes or less if she’ll give me the chance, I love that she’s like that. I can’t wait to see how it plays out with our kids someday.

Finally, she lets out a gust of frustrated breath and holds up a hand like she’s warding me off. “Tonight. Tonight, we’ll pick up where we left off.”

I rub a hand over my chest and her eyes haze a little.

Oh man, that look. I fucking love that look. Still, I remind her, “Faculty meeting and then you’re staying late to grade tests tonight.”

She nods, still staring.

I hook my thumb in a belt loop. Casually. Like I have no idea it’s just given her another inch of skin to ogle.

She swallows, hard. Someone digs the abs.

“After the tests,” she whispers.

Stepping into her for a quick kiss, I lean down to her ear. “I’ll make it worth the wait. Promise. Now get dressed.”

 ***
   

There are perks to upgrading the school’s security system. Like Principal Novak literally gave me the keys to the place. And access to the new system including all the codes and cameras. As I walk from the science wing back to Abby’s classroom, it’s weird knowing this behemoth of a building is empty except for us.

I stop at her door to find a deserted desk and Abby standing on a chair in the back as she hangs a mobile of her students’ favorite quotes near the window.

“That’s awesome,” I say crossing to her and resting a hand at either side of her hips. It’s not exactly a cheap feel, but I’m a man who recognizes an opportunity when it presents itself. “The kids are going to love it.”

She shrugs, but her lips are curved in that smile I’ll never get enough of. “I finished the tests and figured I’d get it up before tomorrow. Did you wrap up inventory for the lab?”

“I did.” I might have gone a little overboard tricking BHS out with the latest and greatest of… well, everything, but I’m grateful to this place. It gave me my heart back. A life that feels like living. Abby.

I think about that first day before the reunion and wonder what would have happened if Abby’s door hadn’t opened at just that moment. If I hadn’t heard her laugh. If I’d kept walking.

Christ, it kills me to think that a few seconds more or less could have changed everything. That I could have missed her again.

“Hank?” she asks, when my hands start to slide over the gentle curves of her hips and thighs.

“Just keeping you safe, sweetheart.” Reminding myself that her door did open and I did stop. That she’s mine.

“Mmm, is that so?” She’s not falling for it but doesn’t seem to mind.

“You ready to go home?”

I nod, continuing to roam over her legs. I ought to take her hand and help her down, but for whatever reason I like this. I like the quiet of the school around us. This place that she loves and brought us together not once but twice.

And then my hands are traveling lower, finding the bottom of her dress and sliding beneath the stretchy fabric.

Her fingers thread into my hair and she sighs softly above me as I press my head into the hollow between her breasts. Fuck, I love the way she smells. The way she feels.

I love that I can touch her like this.

Even just for a few minutes.

We’re in her classroom, so it’s not going anywhere. But still.

“I love your hands on me,” she whispers into the quiet.

I look up into her face. “Yeah?” And with our eyes locked, I slide up the backs of her thighs, my fingers greedy for her skin. Her dress bunches around my wrists, riding higher and higher.

Her breath catches. “Yeah.”

I should stop, but instead I push it, teasing beneath those peachy panties I’d been admiring this morning. Her skin is like silk, her needy whimper at my touch like a drug. One taste and I’m hooked.

I want more.

I need it.

I close my arms around her and lift. But instead of setting her down, I carry her back to her desk and seat her at the edge. Moving into the space between her legs, I groan against her lips as she hooks her boots at my ass and urges me closer.

Fuck, that’s hot.

The part of my brain that knows better is rolling through the data… We’re in her classroom. We should stop. But then Abby moans, her fingers tightening in my hair… and that other part of my brain kicks in. It’s the part that talked me into buying Wagner Arena because Abby had so much fun at the game Greg got us tickets to… and I wanted to get her something better. It’s the part that swore up and down the attendant on my Gulfstream wouldn’t notice if there was more than sleeping going on in the bedroom when I took Abby for a weekend trip to Paris for her birthday last month. And right now, it’s casually noting there are no cameras in here. Maintenance is gone for the day. And I’ve been fantasizing about doing dirty things with this woman in a deserted classroom since we were students here.

Following the line of her leg down, I pull her boot off and fire it at the switch on the wall.

“Wow, nice shot,” she giggles when we’re plunged into relative darkness and the only light is coming in from the hall.

“Baby, I’ve got skills,” I murmur against that spot behind her ear that makes her arch into me. And then I’m kissing my way down her bowed body, pushing her dress to her waist.

“So many skills.”

She’d agree with anything right now, but I’ll take the stroke regardless.

I strip off her panties, pocketing them before arranging her lush legs so they hook over my shoulders and I have an all-access pass to my favorite playground.

I kiss her softly, teasing my lips against the spread of hers until she’s crying out and clutching at my hair. That’s the best part, her tangible need. The physical pull I can’t fucking wait to satisfy.

I deepen my kiss, licking into her sweetness.

“Hank,” she gasps above me.

I give her my tongue in firm strokes, sinking inside and then covering her with my mouth and sucking against that spot where she’s throbbing for me.

She comes against my face, her cries echoing around the empty room. I could stay where I am for hours, getting her off again and again like this, but then she’s pulling at my shoulders and hair, a desperation in her raspy voice that has my priorities shifting in a beat.

“Up here, please. I need you.”

I’ve got my fly down and my cock free before our mouths meet in a hungry, desperate clash. And then I’m pushing into her slick heat in a hard thrust that connects us completely. We fit like two halves coming together to make a perfect whole and I wonder again how I made it through ten years without her. How I managed to make it through a single day.

Our eyes meet and hold as I give her my body, heart, and soul. Deeper, harder. With everything I am.

Her lips part on a silent cry, and then the words come.

Hers. Mine. “Love you.”

They spill over between kisses, filling the air we breathe and pressing into every point of contact between us.

One more thrust, nudging at that too deep spot inside her and she comes, the grip of her body pulling me over the edge with her.

Because that’s how it is with us. Where she goes, I follow. Now and forever.