We wrote this outtake to thank readers for voting for Sweet Filthy Boy in round 2 of the DABWAHAs . . . because we won!! And so we are moving on to round 3, which is open 3/27/15 from MIDNIGHT to NOON Eastern time. Please vote, have your friends vote, and let’s get Ansel & Mia to the Elite Eight! This is like the March Madness for Romance, and we are both really excited and honored to have been included. Thank you so much everyone for all your support! (Edited to add that voting for The Elite Eight is open, please give Sweet Filthy Boy your vote!)
If Sweet Filthy Boy wins the next round, we are writing another Will/Hanna outtake (“The Living Situation Negotiation”) and will also immediately post THE ENTIRE FIRST CHAPTER OF BEAUTIFUL SECRET here on our site! Ahh!! Niall & Ruby!! So please vote because we love writing these little extras for you as thanks. Honestly, we just adore you all!
Without further ado, here is the Thank you #1 for the DABWAHA love: How Jensen Found Out. We hope you love it!
[Takes place after Chapter 20 in Beautiful Player, and before the Epilogue]
Hopefully, in every man’s life there are moments when he feels like the luckiest fucking guy on the planet. To be fair, my life seemed full of them since meeting Hanna, but when I let myself into her apartment after the workday from hell, and saw her in front of the bedroom mirror wearing a stunning silk dress, I had to take a few deep breaths.
I watched as she examined her reflection, turning one direction and then another before meeting my eyes over her shoulder.
“Hey Gisele, what’s up with the fancy?” I asked, dropping my briefcase at my feet.
Hanna gave me a cheeky grin. “I was cleaning out the closet.”
I looked her up and down, grinning. “I can see that.”
“This was hanging way in the back, and I wanted to see if it still fit.”
I followed her when she turned and walked down the hall toward the kitchen, getting an eyeful of the perfect curve of her waist in the silk. “I’m going to vote yes. Particularly in the back.”
She stretched her arms to her sides and looked down. The dress was dark pink, more fitted on top and with a billowing skirt that seemed to be made of hundreds of petals. It was eye-catching—and beautiful—though it certainly didn’t look like anything my sweet, casual Hanna would ever pull off the rack.
“It’s a little big,” she said, turning to face me with her chin tucked into her chest as she looked down. “Especially in the boobs.”
Now that she mentioned it, it was oddly roomy across the front, and it only took me a single, stuttering breath to figure out why.
“Oh, you had this before the tragedy.” I bowed my head.
She looked up at me, fighting a smile. “The reduction was one of the best decisions I ever made. I don’t miss them at all. You didn’t even know my boobs then anyway.”
“You know how I feel about breasts, Plum. Why must you continue to mock my religious affiliation?”
Hanna laughed as she picked up a box of photographs she must have found while cleaning, and set them on the counter.
“I think you still love them now,” she said, cheeks pink. Two weeks of nearly steady flirting and fucking after our big reconciliation and I could still make her blush? Fuck yes.
“I worship them,” I said reverently. “I miss them when I go to work. If you’d let me text with them during the day I’d need to increase my data plan.”
Hanna rolled her eyes and I stepped behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist.
“It’s been ten hours since I’ve seen them,” I told her, brushing her hair over her shoulder and pressing kisses to her skin.
“Ten whole hours?”
I nodded, fingers running along the neckline of her dress.
“Do you want me to take this off so you can be reunited?” she whispered, and I shook my head.
Sliding my hands forward to cup breasts through her gown, I asked, “You think I’m going to pass up the chance to fuck you in your prom dress? You don’t know me very well.”
She laughed, head thrown back against my shoulder. I bent, sucking at the soft skin where neck met collarbone.
With one hand on the back of her neck and the other on her waist, I bent her over the counter. “We haven’t done it here yet,” I told her. “I haven’t had you in the kitchen.”
She watched me over her shoulder, bottom lip tucked between her teeth as I pushed layer after layer of feathery material up and over her hips. “I find that hard to believe,” she said. “Though I’ll admit the last two weeks are a little fuzzy.”
“I’ve had you in my kitchen,” I told her, kneeling behind her. “But the light is different here. The counter is a little lower. The ceilings are higher. I bet it will feel completely different.”
Her skin was creamy against the vibrant color of the dress. Her long, strong legs shifted apart as I kissed my way from the soft backs of her knees to an ass so gorgeous I wanted to sink my teeth into it. She had on one of my favorite pairs of panties and I held my breath as I slipped them down her hips, and watched them become a pink satin puddle on the floor.
I slid one fingertip across her clit, my eyes closing at the way she pushed back into my hand, moaning quietly. Carefully biting my way up the back of her legs, I asked, “Who took you to prom?”
She stuttered out a few sounds before managing, “What?”
“Prom,” I whispered, kissing her thigh. “Who was your date?”
“Oh.” Her answer came out strained: “Um . . . Robbie Meyers?”
Her hamstrings were tight under my fingers, skin smooth and firm. I’d had a long day at work and thoughts of coming home and being with Hanna were what kept me from losing my temper in several meetings. I was going to fuck her until she couldn’t stand, but I was going to take my time. “Tell me about ol’ Robbie.”
She giggled, pushing back into my hands. “He was president of the chess club.”
Growling, I asked, “Did you touch his bishop?”
Hanna laughed again, snorting and making herself laugh even harder. “No. He kissed like a cow.”
I smiled into the skin of her thigh, just below the soft curve of her ass. “Poor Robby.”
“Poor me. He basically licked my entire face.”
I licked the curve of her ass, murmuring, “I thought you liked tongues.”
She moaned, legs shifting wider apart, inviting. “I like yours.”
Humming, I asked, “Where would you like it most?”
“There,” she whispered as I bit and licked, pushing her legs apart to kiss her pussy. “And there.”
Words fell away as I ducked down, kissing her in earnest, sucking where she was wet and sweet until she grew impatient, bending farther over, gripping the counter.
I already knew each of her tells so well, even when she was standing, facing away from me: the rhythm of her hips, how she would lift onto her tiptoes when she was close, her little gasping, preparatory breaths.
Her sounds started little and grew until they filled the room, sharp and hoarse, nonsense interspersed with my name. Against my lips I could feel the soft spasms of her orgasm and I kissed and kissed and kissed her, growing somehow more patient for my own orgasm and more urgent for another one of hers.
“You taste like honey.” I licked her thighs, squeezing her ass in my hands. “You’ll always fucking taste like honey to me. I want to live with the taste of your pussy on my—”
The front door slammed shut, and shoes came to a scratching stop on the wood floor.
Bolting upright, Hanna madly shoved her dress down.
It took my brain a full two seconds to process what the fuck she’d just said.
Oh. Oh shit.
The apartment was owned by Hanna’s parents. Of course Jensen had a set of keys.
I heard Hanna’s oldest brother and my college roommate start to speak and then stop before he finally managed, “Why are you wearing your prom dress?”
“Why are you just letting yourself into the apartment where I live?” she fired back, her voice high with panic.
He couldn’t see me behind the counter, but I knew without much calculation that it wouldn’t be easy to stay hidden; I had no idea why he was here or how long he would stay.
Time to face the music.
I coughed, standing up behind her.
Jerking her thumb back at me, Hanna explained, “Will was just fixing the sink.”
Jensen stared at us, bewildered. “What?”
“Jensen—” I began.
But Hanna cut me off. “I was . . . cleaning.” She looked around her, searching for the rest of her story to form. “And I found this dress.”
I knew this day was inevitable—the day when Jensen would find out about us—and although I’d imagined it happening with a bit more intent on our side, this was too good. And with Hanna, I knew it was only going to get better. And by better, I mean so much worse.
I leaned back against the stove, letting her get it all out.
“I found it in the second bedroom closet,” she babbled, “and put it on, and came to get a snack but when I peeled some carrots I tried to use the garbage disposal but it was stuck and so I called Will—because he’s super handy and also close, only seven blocks away—and he came over.” She turned to look over her shoulder at me with a manic smile on her face. “Thanks, Will!”
I saluted her and made the mistake of reaching up and wiping my mouth. Jensen’s eyes widened in horror.
He jerked his gaze back to Hanna as she kept talking: “And that’s why he was on his knees behind the counter and I am still in my prom dress.”
Silence bounced around the room, and Jensen slowly turned his eyes to me.
I smiled warily in acknowledgment. “Hey.”
“Yeah,” he said, rubbing a finger along his jaw. “Will, I’m going to need know how long you’ve been sleeping with my sister.”
I said, “A few weeks,” right when Hanna blurted, “What? That’s crazy, we aren’t!”
I blinked over to her, and felt my brows go up. ”Hanna,” I whispered, fighting a laugh. “Give it up.”
“Okay, fine. A few weeks,” she mumbled, grinning.
“Since Easter?” he asked, incredulously.
We both nodded.
Hanna winced, giving a tiny shrug. “Before, actually.”
“Well that certainly explains the demise of ceramic Jesus. It looked like you were shoving it down her shirt.”
I groaned. I would never live that one down.
“But we’ve been in love longer than that,” Hanna said quietly.
This threw Jensen. I could tell in the way his chest jerked back like he’d been shoved.
“You’re in love with Will?”
“He’s in love with me, too” Hanna added with a tiny edge to her voice.
I nodded. “Completely.”
“I lived with you for years,” he said to me, shaking his head. “How do you think I’m going to feel about you and my baby sister?”
I studied him, choosing my words carefully. I knew Jensen better than almost anyone. If he didn’t have a fist planted in my face, he was already okay with it.
He probably also knew that it didn’t matter if it was okay with him or not; Hanna loved me.
“We’re together, Jens,” I told him quietly. “I love her.”
“Besides, if anyone was stupid about it,” Hanna said, “it was me.”
“Well, yeah,” I said to her with a grin and a growl. “But it’s all good now.”
Jensen looked to her, then back to me as we each spoke, his eyes moving between us like he was watching the slowest tennis match in the history of time.
I moved to the fridge, grabbing two beers, sensing a growing need for them. Jensen watched me open the bottles, slide one across the counter toward him, and then get a glass of ice water for Hanna. Without thinking, I kissed her temple when I handed it to her.
Without apparent thought either, she hummed, eyes closing as she leaned into me.
“Holy shit,” he said finally, stepping up across the breakfast bar and sitting down. “I have no idea how I didn’t see this coming.”
“I didn’t really think you would find out this way,” Hanna said, before taking a sip of her water. “But to be fair, you did sort of suggest I hang out with Will more.”
Jensen held up his hand. “I don’t want to think about that. Ever again.” He looked at her, horrified. “And I know Will was not fixing the fucking sink. God, Hanna, go change out of that prom dress.”
She snorted. “No, you bossy jerk.”
He shook his head at her, taking a long drink of his beer.
“I’m going to wear this all night,” she said, turning toward the hallway. “In fact, I’m putting on some shoes and then my brother and my boyfriend are taking me to dinner.”
We watched her disappear down the hall. Silence ticked in the kitchen, and without Hanna’s bubbly energy in the room, we both fidgeted with our bottles, not sure how to proceed.
“It’s good,” I reassured him quietly. “She’s it for me.”
Jensen nodded, picking at his beer label before looking up at me with a slow-growing grin. “How much do you want to bet she comes back wearing running shoes under that dress?”
I didn’t want the moment to get too heavy with sentiment, but felt a rush of gratitude so acute it left me struggling to respond for a few breaths. My best friend from college was going to be family.
I smiled, and it turned into the laugh when I heard the soft squeak of Hanna’s sneakers on the wood floor. “I wouldn’t ever take that bet.”
So much more to come from these two, so make sure to VOTE FOR ANSEL! We love you guys!