Chapter Thirteen
Brent paced the hallway outside Hayden’s room, trying to hold on to his patience. After congratulating Story and Daniel, who’d been too enamored with each other to do anything but acknowledge him with a smile, he’d gone in search of Hayden. Obviously, he’d tried her room first. Then he’d checked the pool and every chick-themed store in the place. Explaining his bigfoot-sized presence in Bath & Body Works had been a real scream.
Why had he let her go off by herself, clearly distraught? He’d watched her standing there in the waning sun, tears streaming down her cheeks, her beauty and vulnerability knocking the breath out of him. Then it all changed. Her features clouded, her shoulders sagged. If his ill-advised comment just seconds before did that to her, he’d kick his own ass. He’d said it expecting her to come right back at him with a rejoinder as she always did, yet she’d abandoned the fight. She must know he didn’t mean it. Jesus, wasn’t it obvious how badly he wanted her? He could no more change his mind about her than he could fit into a child-sized leotard.
He heard the elevator ping and hoped like hell it was Hayden inside. Instead, two thirty-something women got off. Stumbling around a little, they were clearly tipsy. They both came up short when they saw him, bursting out laughing when one got brave and sent him an exaggerated wink. Brent sighed. Then it dawned on him where Hayden would have gone. Good thing he wasn’t a detective like Troy or the streets would be overrun with criminals.
Before the elevator could close, he stuck his hand in between the doors to stop their progress and got on, impatiently pressing the lobby button. He started with the bar closest to where he’d seen her re-enter on the casino level. Gypsy Bar. Blaring music and laughter greeted him when he walked inside. When the doorman asked for his ID, Brent gave him a look that said seriously man? And kept walking.
He checked the bar area first, not finding her there. Early on a Saturday night, the room hadn’t yet filled to capacity, but was still reasonably busy. Several customers were already dancing, Brent noticed. Then he did a double take. Hayden, drink in hand, danced in the middle of a large group like her life depended on it. Arms in the air, hips twisting. He’d never seen her look so uninhibited apart from their one night together when she’d transformed before his very eyes. As Brent moved closer, he saw that her skin was rosy and slightly dewy from exertion, the blue dress clinging to her curves as she moved her hips to the rhythm. Her hair had finally given up its battle with perfection, curling at the ends, a dark wave coming down to obscure half her face. She looked how he imagined she would if he ever got her into bed again. Without a time limit or any ridiculous rules. He got hard thinking about it. Watching her dip and sway, he imagined her on top of him instead, riding out her orgasm with the use of his body.
If you stand here ogling her like a jackass any longer, you’ll embarrass yourself. Not to mention, he wasn’t the only male who’d taken notice of Hayden. When one such guy elbowed his buddy and nodded in Hayden’s direction, Brent’s feet were moving purposefully toward her before he’d even made a conscious decision. When he got within five feet, she looked up as if she’d sensed him. Heat thrummed low in his belly when he got a close look at her. Perfectly polished Hayden made him hot, but this girl…fuck, she burned him from the inside.
She’d always accused him of being a caveman. Right now, he could freely admit she’d been right. A furious, pounding need began inside him. Something about her lost expression, her defenselessness, called to that deeply primal part of him. The one that demanded he throw her over his shoulder and take her home so he could pleasure her, see to her needs, until she fell asleep and forgot why she’d been troubled in the first place. When she woke up again, he’d be inside her. Between thrusts, he’d gladly inform her that her man had taken care of her problems, just like he always would. Then he’d fuck her back to sleep.
Eyes scanning his face, her lips parted just slightly, telling him he’d done a poor job of hiding his inner thoughts. He didn’t care. The caveman was rearing its head, urging him to rip off his shirt and let her look her fill. Let her see who’d come to take her to bed. The protector in him demanded answers. Demanded he find out why she’d been crying. Find out what could possibly put that forlorn expression on her face, distress her to the point she felt compelled to act out this way. So unlike her usual self.
He sensed, however, that an interrogation was the last thing she needed. So doing his best to tame the caveman, he opened his arms, relieved when she simply walked into them. She stood on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck, stretching her body flush against his, and he held her, swaying them on the dance floor.
After a few minutes of silence between them, she spoke haltingly next to his ear. “I’m so happy for Daniel and Story, you know. So happy. I just…” Her fingers slid into his hair and his eyes shut. Brent could hear the ever-so-slight running together of her words and put her at about four drinks. Not drunk exactly, but her decisions would be influenced. He needed to remember that. “But it must be amazing, you know? Getting exactly what you always wanted. Having so much…control of your future.”
Brent frowned against her head. If anything, a girl like Hayden, money and influence coming out of her ears, got any damn thing she wanted. He focused on the second half of what she said instead. “Who’s got you feeling out of control, duchess?”
Hayden shook her head, knocking against his chin in a way he found so endearing, his throat hurt.
“Tell me so I can set them straight.”
She looked up at him then, all traces of vulnerability gone. He recognized that look. She’d worn it the night she cuffed him and slowly stripped herself of clothes, and him of his sanity. She wanted to distract him from his questions and…shit. It worked. As her attention snagged on his mouth, her body slid down low, pressing firmly into his on the way back up. He couldn’t stop himself from tilting his hips so she could feel what she’d done to him. Her fingers traced over his shoulders and down his chest, undoing the top button of his shirt, then she kissed the exposed flesh. She traced a path with her lips up his neck and over his chin, ending where their mouths met. Brent kissed her hungrily, starved for the taste of her, his inner caveman pounding his chest again as he claimed her as his own in the middle of the dance floor. When she moaned in her throat and shuddered, he reluctantly pulled away.
“I’m still pissed at you,” Hayden said, head pressed to his chest.
“Everyone’s always pissed at me. It’s just part of my charm.” He released his own unsteady breath as Hayden laughed. How he could make a joke when he felt so painfully turned-on his knees might give out at any moment, Brent had no clue. She’d needed to laugh, that’s why. It was fast becoming obvious that he’d put himself through a dozen varieties of torture to give her what she needed. When had that started? Why didn’t he want it to end?
“So you didn’t really change your mind, then? You still…?”
Brent tipped her chin up. “Hayden, look at me. I’m dancing. You think I’d dance for a girl unless I wanted her like crazy?” He ran his thumb across her bottom lip, groaning when her tongue darted out to lick him. “I guess you haven’t figured it out yet, huh? This week alone, I let you cuff me, stuff me into a suit, and inflict me with Blue-Ball Syndrome.”
Her lips quirked up. “Is that an actual medical diagnosis?”
“Yeah. It is now,” he growled. “They’re naming it after me, too. ‘I got a case of the Brents.’ People will be saying that for centuries to come.”
Hayden’s eyes narrowed. “Wait, you said ‘I let you cuff me’?”
He winked at her. When she sputtered in disbelief, he cut her off with a kiss. She sagged into him almost immediately, actually managing to knock him back a step. He caught her around the waist with his arm. “Hey, how much have you had to drink?”
…
Hayden bit her lip and looked up at Brent with mock innocence. He looked all noble and protective standing there, waiting for her answer, a concerned frown marring his forehead. It made her want to climb up his body and whisper very bad things in his ear until he cracked. She might have a few drinks buzzing through her brain, but wanting Brent naked wasn’t a product of her over-imbibing. Before she’d even set foot in the bar she’d wanted that, so she wasn’t about to let him get away with this whole honorable-policeman act. Not by a long shot.
One teeny little product of her loosened inhibitions was her sudden determination that she needed one more hot, tear-up-the-sheets night with Brent. If she agreed to consign herself to a lifetime as a trophy wife, she wanted to experience his brand of passion one more time. So she could tuck it deep into her memory bank and call on it whenever needed. The part of her brain hanging on to the cliff’s edge of sobriety warned her this was a bad decision, but she tuned it out. She needed him so bad, her body ached. Her breasts, her hands, the flesh between her thighs all begged for contact with him. He’d know what she needed, even if she herself didn’t know right then. Just knew that Brent would give it to her.
“I’ve had three drinks.”
He grunted. “More like five.”
She tried again. “How about four?”
“We’re not bargaining here, woman.”
Excited by the challenge, Hayden slid her hands up the front of his shirt, satisfied when the muscles bunched under her hands. All that power. Mine. Just for tonight.
Using his shoulders for leverage, she leaned up to whisper in his ear. “Brent, take me somewhere private. Where I can wrap my legs around all that muscle. Somewhere you can take off my teeny, tiny panties and fuck me hard.”
“Jesus Christ,” he moaned. As if acting on their own, his hands dropped to her ass and hauled her up against him. Hayden whimpered when she felt his enormous erection probing her through the thin material of her dress. “Are you out of your goddamn mind saying something like that to me in public? It’s all I can do right now not to bend you over the nearest table and fuck you senseless with everyone watching. Maybe it would teach you to be more careful with that mouth.”
Hot, wet heat flooded her, spreading between her legs. She almost had him…just one more push. “My mouth knows exactly how—”
Before the words were fully spoken, Brent began dragging her across the dance floor, scanning the bar as he went. Apparently satisfied that no one paid them any attention, he pushed through a door with an exit sign above it and pulled her behind him into a dark, empty hallway. The only light illuminating the corridor emanated from two exit signs on either end. Music, muffled now, pounded through the door, mingling with their panting breaths.
“On your knees.”
Combined with the thumping bass, the erratic rhythm of her heart beat loudly in her ears. Every cell in her body hummed in needy anticipation. She fell to her knees without a single hesitation, desperate to wring every drop of pleasure from tonight. Not just her own, but Brent’s as well. Their hands met in a tangle as they worked frantically to unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper of his dress pants. She devoured the sight of his erection, the evidence of how badly he wanted her.
He braced one hand above her on the wall; the other gripped her head and urged her forward. At the last second, just before her mouth made contact, he pulled her hair to stop her. When he spoke, his voice sounded raw and dark. “Uh-uh. First, you finish what you were going to say. Your mouth knows exactly how—what?”
Hayden’s breath raced in and out as she looked up at him from her position on the floor. He towered over her, his strength making her feel so fragile. Yet at the same time, she knew she held the reins. Her mouth, her body, represented his pleasure and they both knew it. If possible, the realization heated her even more. It made pretending the opposite twice as heady. She gripped the base of his erection in her fist. “My mouth knows exactly how you like it.”
“Keep going,” he ordered. “Be very specific or I’ll make you wait an hour for a ride.”
She flicked out her tongue and caught the tip, making Brent groan. “You like me to take it deep. As deep as I can. You like when I suck hard on the tip.”
“That’s right. Now, open your mouth and make it count. I earned it.” No sooner had she obeyed his harsh command than he guided himself between her damp, parted lips. She moaned at the smooth feel of him on her tongue even as she struggled to wrap her mouth around him completely. Unlike last time, she didn’t tease him. She’d have been teasing herself in the process, because every taste, every groan she wrung from his throat, was like an aphrodisiac straight to her brain. Her hand stroked his girth in time with her mouth, faster and faster until she felt him start to shake, and exulted in his loss of composure.
“Stop, baby. Now. Oh God, please stop.” Ignoring his request, she swirled her tongue around the tip, then sucked it hard enough to hollow her cheeks. Distantly, she heard his fist connect with the concrete wall, then he was dragging her to her feet. He pushed her back against the cool, hard surface and reached a hand beneath her dress to yank down her panties. All the while, she watched his flushed face, exulting in the desperation she saw there.
As frantic as Brent was to get inside her, as badly as she needed to give him relief, Hayden felt the now-familiar desire for control tingling in her limbs. She’d been spinning out of control all week, maybe her whole life, if she was honest with herself. Everyone else saw the coolly self-possessed Hayden, but truthfully, she followed the dictates of others, the stuffy world she lived in. The urge to make her own rules beckoned to her. Brent would do whatever she asked of him. If she told him to stop right now, he would, even if it killed him. While she didn’t want to abuse that honorable part of him, she couldn’t deny the irresistible need to test it.
“Spread your thighs wide for me. I’m gonna fuck you until my next thrust is the only thing keeping you sane.” He boosted her effortlessly up against the wall so she could wrap her legs around his waist. She felt him, hot and thick at her entrance, as he rolled on a condom. Then he filled her in one, hard shove that nearly pushed her over the edge. Their sharp cries echoed in the empty hallway.
“Don’t move.” Her words came out in a whispered rush, entirely of their own accord. “No moving until I say you can.”
Brent stilled, buried deep inside her. Their eyes met and the agony she saw in his almost forced her to give in, but she couldn’t deny the surge of undiluted pleasure. Having this big, robust man obey her was pure decadence. God, she needed this. How could she live without this?
“Hayden.” Teeth clenched, his voice shook. “Please let me move, baby. I can only take so much. I’m…” He released a shuddering groan when she clenched him with her inner muscles. “I’m worried…if you play this game with me much longer…I could hurt you when you finally let me… Fuck, I’m dying. This is the end, right?”
She tugged down the top of her dress, her hand clumsy. “Taste me first.”
His mouth descended on her breasts with a growl, frantically licking and sucking her nipples. Hayden’s head fell back on her shoulders, pure hedonistic bliss spearing through her system. Impaled on his pulsing erection, all but pinned to the wall while he devoured her breasts, could only be described as the most erotic experience of her life. And she had the privilege of calling the shots. Nothing compared to this lust-drunk feeling. Nothing ever would. An earth-shattering climax loomed, but she wanted to prolong this moment.
She grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head away from her breasts. His eyes were feverish, glazed with need. It nearly sent her spiraling into release, but she somehow managed to hold back.
“Please,” he whispered roughly. “Please.”
She spoke through panting breaths. “Tell me what you’re going to do to me first.”
Brent buried his face against her neck and moaned. She reveled in the desperate sound. Between her thighs, his body shook like it might implode at any moment. Raw power. Leashed. By her.
“I’m going to cram your tight pussy full over and over again,” he growled. “I’m going to fuck you until your ears ring. I’m going to bite you hard. Mark you. Ruin you.”
Hayden’s orgasm slammed through her, turning her inside out. She barely had the breath in her body to tell him to move, but she somehow managed it through the waves of incredible heat. “Now, Brent. Now.”
The last coherent thought in Hayden’s head evaporated as Brent unleashed himself on her. He hooked his arms under her knees and shoved her thighs wide with enough force to make her gasp. Then the pounding began. He held nothing back, slamming into her without an ounce of mercy, grinding her back into the wall with the force of his thrusts. The slapping of flesh combined with Brent’s animalistic grunts into her neck undid her. She heard herself calling his name, her voice sounding unfamiliar to her ears. Her nails dug into the taut flesh of his brawny shoulders, her hips undulated into his unyielding drives.
“Is this what you wanted, duchess? A punishment fuck?” His teeth sank into her shoulder with a growl. “It works both ways. You punish me, I’ll punish you right back.”
Like last time, his coarse speech sent her to the brink of orgasm. She hastened toward it, powerless to do anything but experience the glorious pleasure. “Yes, Brent. Punish me. Show me what I did to you.”
Eyes lit with challenge, he jerked her off the wall. Supporting her with strong hands that gripped her bottom, he worked her up and down his rigid erection, the new position creating a slippery friction against her clitoris. With a throaty moan, she clutched his shoulders and leaned back, pumping her hips in time with his. They watched each other through the haze of lust, Brent’s sexually charged gaze hurtling her into orgasm. She struggled to keep her eyes open so she could watch him find his own release and was rewarded by his expression of absolute surrender. His teeth sank into his bottom lip, but it did nothing to mute the roar of gratification that escaped him.
No sooner had he finished than he let Hayden slide down his body to the floor. Before she could decipher his intention, he spun her toward the wall. Her palms pressed against the cool surface to brace herself as his big hand came down hard once on her bottom with a loud slap that echoed through the empty hallway, sending a wave of ecstasy through her. Then he pulled her back against his chest and held her close, breath rasping in her hair.
She didn’t have the strength to question him. If he wasn’t holding her up at that moment, she suspected she’d be in a boneless heap on the floor. Perhaps it didn’t require any examination. He’d accepted her needs without question. Allowed her to discover this new part of herself, all but abusing him in the process. She could do the same for him. And dammit, hadn’t she loved it? The sting of his hand, knowing she’d pushed him to his breaking point? Yes, she had.
Turned away from Brent, with him unable to see her face, she felt the sudden need to reassure herself about her actions. He’d been in pain. She’d…been turned on by his torment. She didn’t know how to feel about that. “I, um…I’m sorry I made you wait like that.”
“Duchess, you can mistreat me like that any day of the week,” he murmured, obviously still recovering. When she didn’t say anything for a long stretch, he turned her around to study her face. She had no idea what he saw there. Didn’t even know herself at that moment. “Hey. Look at me.” She complied. “I’m a big, bad dude. I can take it. And Hayden?” He kissed her long and hard. “Let’s get on the same page. I’m the only one who has the privilege of taking it ever again.”