Unexpected Lovers Box Set by J.B. Heller

I stare at Sam,waiting for him to put me out of my misery and tell me what the hell this is all about. When he doesn’t continue and I can’t stand the silence any longer, I tell him, “Out with it, man! I’m getting all jittery.”

“Okay, so earlier in the night, I overheard two guys talking about a woman they had both dated. They were saying how great things were in bed, then all of a sudden, it changed, and the relationship was over within a few months. That she kind of forced them to end it. Actually, it was more like they implied she manipulated the situation so they would want out.”

Sam continues his story, but I’m no longer listening. Two guys discussing a woman they both dated for a few months. Dear God, he’s talking about Paul and Brent. They were there that night. My embarrassing run-in with Brent plays out behind my closed eyelids. Sam only approached me because he thought I was a sure thing. I want to crawl into a hole and die.

“Hannah.” Sam’s voice drags me back into the moment.

My stomach churns, and I place an unsteady hand over it. “I think you should leave.” I don’t even want to hear the rest of what he has to say. My head starts pounding, and I get to my feet.

“No, please hear me out. I wanted to have this conversation with you before we were intimate, but it just didn’t happen that way.”

He reaches for me, but I pull away. “Don’t touch me.”

His hand drops back to his side, and the pleading in his eyes nearly breaks me.

“Did you seek me out because you thought I was an easy lay?” A bitter laugh bursts from my lips, because I totally was. I’ve never moved this fast before. “Well, congratulations, you got what you wanted. You can go now.”

He shakes his head. “You’re not listening to me. Yes, I wanted to sleep with you, but that’s not all. You have no idea what it’s like for a man like me to find someone to spend time with.”

My eyes widen at his outrageous statement. “Are you serious? Do you think I didn’t notice the women practically drooling over you when we went out? You could literally take your pick,” I scoff.

The deep blue of his irises flicker with annoyance. “Do you know how much I’m worth, Hannah?”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t care about your stupid money, Sam.”

“Exactly.” He points at me. “You know, my last girlfriend faked a pregnancy to try to make me marry her. It had nothing to do with me as a person.” He loosens a frustrated growl and runs his hands through his hair. “All I wanted was to be with a woman who doesn’t give a shit about who I am and who wants to hang out and fool around for a while. And to not have to worry about her planning a future that has nothing to do with me and everything to do with my money.”

I’m stunned into silence. For a whole minute, I just look at him, his words running on a loop through my head. I can feel my frown deepening as it all sinks in. “What the hell kind of women have you been dating?”

Like an invisible weight has been lifted from his shoulders, he shrugs. Light finally returns to his gaze. “The wrong ones, obviously.”

“No shit,” I blurt.

He chuckles then reaches for me again. This time, I let him take my hand, and his thumb caresses the underside of my wrist as he speaks. “I didn’t tell you this to hurt you. I wanted you to know; I’m aware you don’t want a long-term relationship, and I’m okay with that. But instead of things having to get bad or awkward between us, how about we make a deal?”

I arch my brows. “What kind of deal?”

“When either of us is ready for this thing we’ve got going on to end, we talk about it. Let’s go out on a high note and part ways as friends.”

That actually sounds really good. I smile at him then push onto my toes. “You have yourself a deal,” I murmur against his lips, then I kiss him.

Her tongue parts my lips,and I wrap my arms around her tiny waist, drawing her body closer. I love the feel of her pressed against me. My dick starts getting the wrong idea as blood pumps south, and he begins growing in my trousers.

“Seriously?” Hannah pulls her lips away from mine, her eyes darting to my burgeoning hard-on.

I shrug. “He likes you as much as I do.”

Dimples pop in her cheeks as she smiles, then she waggles her brows and lowers herself to her knees before me.

My eyes widen. “Holy shit. What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” she murmurs in a husky whisper that has my dick straining to get to her.

I release a pent-up breath. “You don’t have to do that, Hannah.” My dick is yelling at me to shut my damn mouth, but I had to say it.

She smirks. “Soon you’ll learn, Sammy, I don’t do anything I don’t want to.” Then, she lowers my zipper and frees my cock.

It throbs in her small hand. Her eyes meet mine as she leans forward and takes me into her mouth.

My fingers lock in her hair, and she sucks me to the back of her throat. “Christ,” I groan.

Her free hand cups my balls, and she rolls them in her palm while massaging my taint with her fingertips. My hips surge forward—I can’t help it—and then she moans—I definitely can’t stop doing it.

Less than five minutes later, I come in her sweet mouth then help her back to her feet. A few strands of her long, pink hair hang in her eyes, and I tuck them back behind her ear then kiss her soundly.

When I pull away, she grins at me, and I know I’m mirroring it.

The next few days fly by with nothing more than a few texts shared between us as we’re both busy with work. I’m anxious to see her on Saturday, but Friday afternoon, I get a text from Hannah, telling me she has to cancel our dinner.

To say I’m less than happy about it is an understatement. But she says it can’t be helped.

It’s a full week before we’ll get to see each other in person again, but we’ve been video-calling almost daily. Which is what we’re doing right now.

“And this is Leviathan,” she chirps, turning her phone around to face a huge fish tank that I somehow missed when I was there the other week. “Levi, say hi,” she tells the lobster.

I laugh. “Wow, I thought you were kidding about having a pet crustacean.”

The phone whips back around to Hannah’s face. She frowns. “Who would joke about having the best pet in the world?”

“I don’t know,” I say, chuckling at the confused expression on her beautiful face. “Are we still good for breakfast tomorrow?”

“Yep, I’ll meet you at your fancy-ass building at five,” she says, grinning. “Okay, I’ve gotta run. See you tomorrow, sexy pants.”

She ends the call before I even get to tell her how awful the nickname is.