Page 51 of Hannah.

The tension eases from her shoulders, and she composes a small smile. “Thanks. I…thank you. I’ll return the objects to you and Astrid, I promise.”

Now she pulls away, albeit slowly, smoothing her hands over my chest reluctantly. “I guess I should go….” Hannah chuckles as she turns towards the front door. “Tonight has been a lot. I’ve got some things to think about.”

I escort her in silence to the door, which I open at once. Standing close together, a sudden tenderness breaks through the heavy atmosphere. Hannah turns back to me, rising on her tiptoes, and a gentle kiss graces my cheek, unexpected and warm. It’s a gesture that catches me off guard, but all of the things I’ve been feeling for her for so many years come rushing out of the corner of my heart I’ve shoved them into, and I can’t just let her leave.

With the soft kiss still burning on my cheek, before she can step away, an instinct takes over, and I reach out, pulling her back against me. Our eyes lock, and the unspoken connection between us intensifies. In that charged moment, I lean in, my lips meeting hers. The kiss is a fusion of emotions—compassion, understanding, and a glimpse of something more profound. But more powerful than that, more powerful than anything, is how strong my desire for her is.

Hannah is still with surprise at first, but she melts against me between one breath and the next. Blood is thrumming hot and fiery through my veins, but I restrain myself, keeping my lips closed as I kiss her until I feel the hesitant press of her tongue against the seam of my lips.

I let her in. I let her kiss me, her tongue tentatively slipping into my mouth, and then her arms come up around my neck.

She’s still standing in the half-open door, and her eyes are closed as she kisses me back, her mouth so soft and warm and inviting. The smell of her shampoo, of her perfume, of her body, it all swirls together in a dizzying cocktail of arousal and need. I can’t stop myself from wrapping an arm around her waist and hauling her up against my chest, her breasts crushed to me, our mouths still fused.

Time slows, and the world narrows to her—her body, her lips, the taste, feel, and smell of her.

And then Hannah...fuck, she moans into the kiss, and any sense of self-control I have is lost. I break away from her just long enough to push the door close with one hand, and then I’m hauling her against me once more, walking her back until she’s pressed against the door. My hands skim down her back as I kiss her again, reveling in her short little pants. With my hands on her ass, I lift her, and her legs go around my waist instinctively. She’s so warm and pliant in my arms, giving me that moan again when I grind myself against her.

This time, the kiss is less gentle. There’s more passion behind it, and Hannah responds to it, her hands clutching at me, her lips moving against mine. She tilts her head back, but as soon as my lips connect with the skin of her neck, I feel my damned phone start to ring in my pocket. Hannah pauses for a fraction of a second, but the unspoken agreement between us to ignore it is quickly made.

“Hold on to me,” I murmur against her mouth, letting her wrap her arms around my neck as I carry her to the couch. I sit hard, head bouncing against the cushion, never letting my grip loosen on her.

Hannah is straddling me now, her hands running through my hair as her body settles into mine. God, I’ve waited so long for this. Even if it’s only been years, it feels like an eternity. When she rolls her hips, rubbing herself against me, I can’t stop myself from thrusting.

We’re both still wearing our clothes, and that’s the only thing keeping this from getting completely out of hand.

“What do you want, Hannah?” I ask in a whisper, my hands cupping her face, bringing her down for another searing kiss. “Tell me.”

I feel her shudder, her body quivering. “Johan, I––”

Then the damn phone is ringing again. I ignore it still, not giving a damn who might be calling me.

“Just tell me, baby. Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.” I’m practically growling the words.

“I...Johan, please, I want––” She breaks off again, her words becoming a whine of frustration as my phone goes off again. But the ringing stops abruptly, and to my horror, there is a knock at the door.

This time, Hannah pauses, her body going still. She pulls away from me, her lips kiss-swollen, her cheeks flushed, and she stares into my eyes, shocked.

“Johan!” Conrad calls from outside the door. “I know you’re in there, you asshole. Open up!”

“Shiiiit,” I draw out the word, frozen with indecision for a second until I formulate a plan. Taking Hannah's chin in my hand, I kiss her quickly, murmuring, “Forgive me,” before picking her up once more.

This time, she doesn't wrap her legs around me and wiggles out of my arms. Conrad is still knocking, and I know he has a spare key. My time is short. With a groan, I grab Hannah's hand and drag her to the bedroom, throwing the door open and pushing her toward my walk-in closet. “Just stay here,” I say.

“What—!” She's flabbergasted. “You’re not hiding me in the closet.”

“I will be as quick as I can. Please wait here.”

I shut the door, hearing her say, “I can't believe you’re doing this.”

Guilt is piercing through me, along with a laugh at the absurdity of the situation bubbling inside me. I just hid Hannah van den Bosch in my closet like a horny teenager getting caught by my parents. Right after she revealed her kleptomania to me. What is my life right now?

I open the front door after assuring I’m decent to reveal Conrad with two Cartier gift bags in his hands. He looks annoyed as hell, but I don't give a damn. “What are you doing here, Conrad?” My eyes flicker down to the bags. “I hope those aren’t for me 'cause I’m truly not in the mood.”

“Haha, very funny.” He pushes past me into the apartment before I can even let him in. “I need urgent help.”

“Urgent? What's wrong?”

“Yes, urgent!” He sits the bags down and rakes a hand through his dark hair. “I’m having a date with Hannah tomorrow night and want to give her something special.”

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