“She could have left him.”

I shake my head. “He would’ve killed her before he let that happen. Nobody leaves Phil Graham. Nobody divorces him, because that would leave a black stain on his pristine reputation, and he can’t have that.” I sigh. “He doesn’t drink or have problems with substance abuse, if that’s what you’re wondering. He’s just…sick, I guess. He loses his temper at the drop of a hat, and the only way he knows how to solve problems is with his fists. He’s a fucking narcissist, too. I’ve never known anyone who is so full of himself, so fucking arrogant. My mother and I were just props to him. Trophy wife, trophy son. He doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself.”

I have never told anyone about this before. Not Logan or Tuck. Not even Birdie, the master of keeping secrets. Anything related to my father, I keep to myself. Because the sad truth is, too many people out there would be tempted to sell the story to make a few bucks. It’s not that I don’t trust my friends, I do, but when you’ve already been disappointed by the one person you’re supposed to trust most in your life, you’re not exactly keen on giving people any kind of ammunition over you.

But I trust Hannah. I have faith that she won’t tell anyone about this, and as my confession hangs in the air, it’s like a load has been lifted off my chest.

“So yeah,” I say roughly, “the last time I celebrated Hallo-fucking-ween, I got the shit kicked out of me by my own father. Not a happy memory, huh?”

“No, it’s not.” Her free hand rises to stroke my jaw, which is covered with stubble because I was too lazy to shave today. “But you know what my therapist used to tell me? The best way to forget a bad memory is to replace it with a good one.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s easier said than done.”

“Maybe, but there’s no harm in trying, is there?”

My breath lodges in my throat when she climbs into my lap. You’d think it would be impossible for me to get hard when we’ve just had the most depressing conversation known to man, but my dick thickens the moment her firm ass settles over it. The kiss she gives me is soft and sweet, and I groan in disappointment when her mouth suddenly leaves mine.

I don’t stay disappointed for long, though, because the next thing I know, she’s kneeling on the floor in front of me and freeing my cock from my sweatpants.

I’ve gotten a lot of blowjobs. That’s not a brag, it’s just the truth. But when Hannah’s mouth finds me, my balls draw up tight and my cock throbs with excitement, pulsing like it’s the first time a girl’s tongue has ever touched it.

The tip of my dick damn near blows off when the wet heat of her mouth surrounds me. One small, delicate hand caresses my thigh as she works me over with her mouth. Her other hand is curled tightly around my shaft, her thumb rubbing the sweet spot under the head of my dick, and each long suck pushes me deeper into pure, blissful oblivion.

My hips start to move. I can’t stop them. Can’t stop myself from driving deeper into her mouth and tangling my fingers in her hair to guide her. She doesn’t seem to mind, though. My frantic thrusts bring a moan to her lips, and the sexy sound vibrates through my shaft and zings up my spine.

The hot suction drives me crazy. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t want this girl. When I wasn’t fucking desperate for her.

It’s only when I open my eyes that I register where we are. My roommates are at a party, but we have an early morning practice and a game tomorrow, which means they won’t be out late tonight. Which means they could walk into the living room at any second.

I touch Hannah’s cheek to stop her. “Let’s go upstairs. I have no idea when the guys are coming home.”

She stands up without a word and holds out her hand to me.

I take it, and then I lead her upstairs.

*

Hannah

Garrett leaves the light off.

He locks the door behind us, and I can see his eyes shining in the darkness. He strips so fast it makes me laugh, and then he’s naked in front of me, his muscular body a shadowy blur as he takes a step toward me.

“Why are you still dressed?” he grumbles.

“Because not everybody is as proficient at getting naked as you are.”

“It’s not that difficult, babe. Here, let me help you.”

I shiver when he snakes both hands beneath my shirt and slowly drags it up to my collarbone. He plants a soft kiss between my bra cups before pulling the shirt over my head. Rough fingertips skim my hips and tickle the top of my mound as he drops to his knees, drawing the cotton fabric of my yoga pants down with him.

All I can see is his dark head hovering inches from my thighs, and it’s such an erotic sight, so fucking hot, that I can hardly breathe. When his mouth grazes the sensitive nub that is already swelling with desire, a bolt of pleasure nearly knocks me off my feet, and I grip the top of his head to steady myself.

“Okay, nope,” I announce. “I’m never gonna be able to stay upright if you’re doing that to me.”

With a chuckle, Garrett stands up and scoops me into his arms as if I weigh absolutely nothing.

We land on the bed with a thud, laughing as we lie on our sides facing each other. We’re both naked and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

When he speaks, it’s so nonsensical I’m genuinely caught off-guard. “I thought your name started with an M.”

“You thought my name was Mannah?”