CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Over the next few weeks Hank took Myra and Samantha out in the new car several times although it was usually only to another nearby town to look around, buy a few things and have some lunch. The weather was still too cold to do much outdoors, particularly with Samantha.

Myra had at last begun to get used to Hank being generous and considerate and had stopped expecting him to suddenly return to the way he had been before. She had discovered that she actually liked him and had almost forgotten the way he had treated her when she worked for him. He was wonderful with Samantha and that, even more than the way he treated Myra herself, endeared him to her. She had found herself wondering if anything would ever happen between them again. Hank hadn't made any advances towards her, but she was aware of the way he looked at her and it wasn't the way one generally looked at a room mate.

It was Good Friday and Myra had put Samantha to bed and retired early herself with a book, reading until she couldn't keep her eyes open any longer. It was barely eleven o'clock and the club would be jumping for three or four hours yet, although the sound from it was so faint it was almost unnoticeable. Myra put the book down, turned off the light and fell instantly asleep.

She woke some hours later at the sound of Samantha crying out. Glancing at her clock, she saw it was approaching four. She waited to see if the little girl called out again. Sometimes she merely fell asleep again after a single cry.

"Mommy!" Samantha shouted persistently.

Myra pushed back her quilt and slid out of bed, yawning. She straightened her short satin nightgown and opened the door. The baby was quiet again, but Myra decided to check on her anyway since she was up. Rubbing her eyes she went to the open door of Sam's room and looked inside. Much to her surprise she saw Hank, wearing just a pair of half-fastened pants, holding Samantha in his arms.

Myra stopped in the doorway and watched. Hank hadn't seen her and she remained there as he bounced Samantha gently, making her giggle. The little girl stretched her hand out suddenly and grabbed a handful of Hank's hair, tugging at it until he tickled her ribs, making her let go and wave her arms at him in protest.

"Daddy!" she cried.

Myra's breath caught in her throat and she put her hand over her mouth as she continued to watch. Hank squeezed his eyes shut and tipped his head back, holding Samantha closer to his chest. Almost instantly sleepy, she began to nod, her head bumping against him. He looked down again and Myra noticed tears rolling down his cheeks. Her heart swelled and she walked into the room slowly and went to him, carefully taking Samantha out of his arms and lowering her back into her crib. Hank turned away, sniffing and scrubbing a hand over his face.

"Myra…." he began thickly.

"Sshhh." She glanced at the sleeping baby, then slid her hand into his and led him out of the room and back to her own. She paused to close the door quietly behind them and Hank went to sit on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his head hanging. Myra hesitated for a long moment before she went to sit beside him. He didn't move and after another minute she reached up and stroked his hair away from his face, then rested her hand on the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry," he grunted.

"It's alright, it don't matter."

"No, I mean for everythin' I ever did to ya. It's pretty much all I thought about in jail."

"It's in the past, Hank. Ya gotta forget about it," she said softly. "I have."

"Ain't that easy. I wish I could go back and do things different."

"You're doin' them different now."

"It's too late," he said roughly.

"Is it? What do ya really want, Hank?"

He turned to look at her at last. "I want you, Myra. Always did. I was just lousy at showin' it. I didn't wanna care about ya. The one time I did have feelin's for someone it damn near killed me. The idea of goin' through that again after Clarice scared the shit outta me."

"I ain't Clarice, Hank," Myra said.

"I know."

"Ya never told me what happened with her," said Myra. "I know you were both young and she got pregnant; then she died about a year before I met ya, but that's all."

"Ya don't wanna hear about that," he muttered.

"I do."

Hank sighed heavily. "I loved her," he said eventually. "Thought she loved me. After Zach was born she made it pretty obvious she loved any guy who showed her attention. They weren't even payin' for it. She resented me for givin' her the kid; said I ruined her life."

"I'm sorry," said Myra.

Hank shrugged. "I guess I should've walked away, but I hung around for another five years like the sucker I was, hopin' she'd change her mind. Never happened."

"How'd she die?" Myra asked him.

"Smack," he said shortly. "In some other guy's bed."

"I ain't gonna treat ya like that." She slid her hand into his again, but he pulled away.

"If ya did it'd only be what I deserve." His eyes dropped away from her face for a moment and then lifted again. Much to her surprise, he picked up her bathrobe where it lay on the foot of the bed and dropped it into her lap. "Put this on. I was locked up for a long time and I ain't been with no one since I got out neither."

Myra's already rapidly thumping heart now skipped a couple of beats altogether. She pushed the robe off her legs onto the floor and lifted her hand to touch his face. "Maybe it's time ya did then."

"This ain't what ya want, is it?" Hank said slowly.

"Maybe I didn't when I thought I had no choice. You're a different person now and I ain't workin' for ya no more, so I get to choose."

Hank leaned forward and brushed his lips lightly against hers. She closed her eyes and he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. Her heart, which had already been thumping unevenly, now pounded as if it would burst. She slid her arms around Hank's neck and pressed against him, feeling his hands running down her back, then up over her ribcage to cup her breasts. Myra shivered with pleasure, her excitement mounting rapidly. It was just the same as it had always been only a hundred times better, because this time she didn't feel used or ashamed or guilty.

She opened her eyes again as Hank drew back, his hands dropping to her waist and gripping tight as he picked her up and laid her in the middle of the bed, kneeling over her and unzipping his pants, pushing them down a few inches.

"Ya know this is gonna be real quick," he said with a sheepish grin.

"Yeah, but we got the rest of the night," Myra said softly.

Hank bent to kiss her again, his hands resting either side of her on the mattress. She slid her arms around him, stroking her hands down his back and drawing her knees up either side of him. As he thrust into her, she rolled her head back, gasping as his mouth left hers and touched her throat instead.

He was right, it was real quick, but after more than two years without a woman that was no great surprise. He pulled away from Myra, removed his pants and lowered himself onto her again. She ran her hands over his shoulders and arms, admiring the hard muscles, then drew her fingers through his hair, pulling him down for another kiss as he slid into her again.

Hank slipped his hands under her, gripping her hips and holding her tight to him as he rolled onto his back. She drew her knees up beneath her and sat up, peeling the short nightdress off over her head. He ran his hands over her body, stroking, teasing, driving her crazy so that by the time he erupted for the second time, she was with him.

Myra lay down then, her head resting on Hank's shoulder, her hand on his chest feeling his heart beating in time with her own. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly.

"God, Myra, I missed ya," he groaned.

"I missed you too," she whispered. She closed her eyes, wondering if Hank would go back to his own room or stay with her. He stayed. She began to drift into sleep and was vaguely aware of him moving away from her, but then he simply pulled the quilt out from beneath her and covered her up before he lay down again and slid his arm around her. She fell asleep with a smile on her lips.

When she woke again it was still dark. She was lying with her back to Hank and he was kissing her neck, touching her, pressing himself against her. She shifted slightly, intending to turn towards him, but he held her still, nibbling her ear, gently squeezing her breasts, his thumbs teasing the nipples, his erection nudging against the backs of her thighs. He took her from behind, so gently this time that she wondered if she could be dreaming. Hank had never been gentle. He went at it like a bull in a china shop just like he did everything else. Afterwards when she lay in his arms gradually dozing off, she felt herself begin to fall for him all over again.