Night Owl (The Night Owl Trilogy #1)(34)
Author: M. Pierce

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**ked.

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

Little did those a**holes 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**ked 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 nak*d, too. Each morning I woke with a hard-on pressed against her soft skin.

God, I was lucky.

And fuck, 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 nak*d, 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 c*ck 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 br**sts brushed my face as she worked, tying my wrists with soft cords to the upper bedposts. I mouthed at her n**ples blindly.

"Not yet," she whispered, lifting them beyond my reach. Fuck…

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 br**sts."

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 n**ples, come on."

I was rewarded with a pert nipple between my lips. I gasped and felt my c*ck 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**sy resting on my face. Her fingertips tweaked my n**ples 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**ked 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 fuck. 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?"

"Fuck, yes," I snapped. How the hell did I look? I was ready for anything. Her mouth, her p**sy—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.