Chapter Fifteen
Hayden peeked out from under heavy eyelids, head still fuzzy from sleep. It took her mere seconds to remember the night before and where she’d fallen asleep. After all, she didn’t often wake up with two hundred and fifty pounds of solid, naked male wrapped around her. Brent’s arm was slung over her waist, anchoring her against his chest, preventing any movement. Her legs were trapped in between his heavier ones. She could feel his soft exhalations ruffling the hair on top of her head, but surprisingly, he didn’t snore. She’d have guessed he would snore like a grizzly bear.
It took her a moment to realize a huge smile had spread across her face. She was glad he’d trapped her in his muscle-man fortress, because she didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to leave the bed in which they’d spent the night, making love for hours on end. He’d brought her to orgasm so many times she’d have to use her permanently curled toes to help count. She’d done the same for him. Teasing, tasting, torturing, until he reached his breaking point. They’d hid nothing from each other, reveling in weaknesses and strengths. Differences and similarities.
Last night would stand out in her memory for two reasons. One, as the night she’d been pleasured so thoroughly, she’d partially lost her voice from screaming. Second, as the night she realized she could never marry Stuart. She had no idea what lay between her and Brent, but she knew giving up this feeling wasn’t an option. She’d just discovered this entirely new side of herself and she needed to explore it. And by some strange miracle of nature, she could only imagine exploring it with Brent—someone who, up until a week ago, she’d despised with every fiber of her being. Someone she had practically nothing in common with. Yet as she lay snuggled against his body, she found herself looking forward to him waking up. Talking to him. And, oh yes, she could already feel that delicious tightening in her belly, the tickle between her thighs. He would know what to do. How to satisfy her.
A tinge of guilt sparked in her chest. The last thing she should be thinking about was sex. Later on today, she would need to break the news to her parents that she wouldn’t, couldn’t, marry Stuart. That everything her father had worked for would turn to dust because she couldn’t fathom a life spent married to someone she didn’t love. That she’d finally realized she was capable of doing more with her life, starting with her charity. Of course, her mother wouldn’t understand. She’d call Hayden selfish. Perhaps she’d be right. But it didn’t change her decision. Until now, her sole purpose in life had been to make her father happy, repay him for taking her in as a child. She simply couldn’t do it anymore. Her life, her happiness, was simply too large a sacrifice.
Had her feelings for Brent made the decision for her? The thought troubled Hayden. He’d undoubtedly played a major role, but the newfound connection between them was still so fresh. Turning down an offer of marriage from Stuart to take a chance on the unknown might not be her wisest move. Still, the idea of exploring this fragile new relationship pulled her. If fighting and sleeping together could actually be termed a relationship, as opposed to insanity.
Her chaotic thoughts were interrupted by a surge of heat as Brent’s hand snaked over her hip to disappear between her thighs. Immediately, her entire body went on alert, skin tingling, breath catching in her lungs. He removed the big leg pinning her thighs down and opened her to his skilled fingers, stroking the damp flesh in between. Against her bottom, his erection swelled and she circled her hips. When he growled next to her ear, she shuddered.
“Next time you need me, wake me up.” He bit her earlobe, tugged. “You don’t spend a minute unsatisfied in my bed. Understand?”
“Yes, I understand.” She gasped when he rubbed her clitoris with the pad of his thumb. After last night, her flesh felt extremely sensitive to his touch, almost as though she hovered on the brink of release, her body anticipating the way it would inevitably shatter under his attention. She tipped her head back, seeking his mouth, and was rewarded by a long, hot, possessive kiss. By the time it ended, she writhed against him mindlessly.
“Where did we leave off last night?” He pushed his middle finger deep, stroking the spot he’d used to exploit her desperation just hours before. “Whose turn was it to be in charge?”
“Y-yours.”
“Good, because I can practically hear the wheels turning in that stubborn head of yours.” He added another finger, pushed tight, and held until she whimpered. “You listen best when I’m buried in that sweet pussy. Get on your stomach. I’m about to clear up any misunderstandings.”
Practically shaking with lust, Hayden did as he asked. He slipped his fingers free to shove a pillow beneath her hips, putting her in a provocative position, face pressed against the mattress, bottom in the air. “What misunderstandings?”
He fisted her hair and tugged. “Who’s in charge here?”
She sucked in a breath. “You are.”
“Right. Don’t rush me.” He reached across her body to the bedside table and retrieved a condom from the jumbo pack they’d bought last night. She heard him rip the foil and roll on their protection. “You’ll have no more questions when I’m finished.”
She felt his mouth at the backs of her knees, kissing and biting her flesh. His mouth moved higher, up her thighs, over her buttocks. He lingered there, biting extra hard just underneath the base of her spine. It sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through her body, heat prickling her nerve endings. When his lips continued their path up her back, his big hands squeezed and kneaded her backside with punishing fingers. Finally his lips reached her neck and he slid his hands up her sides and around to her breasts. At the same time, he worked himself against her upturned bottom, grinding her hips down into the pillow.
“Part your legs just a little for me.” She did as he asked. “Good girl. Now push your fine ass even higher. Higher. That’s it. Right there.” He shoved into her with a groan. Hayden echoed the sound into the mattress. “Straighten your legs now. Lock me in.”
When Brent pulled out and drove back into her, sensation rocketed through her system. Something about the angle, the position, the smooth, slick thrusts, made her crazy with need. She wanted to scream at him to go faster, harder, but she held her tongue. To make up for her silence, she milked him with her inner walls, squeezing him inside her. The harder he had to work to thrust into her slight opening, the wilder he became. His rhythm increased along with the intensity of his surges until Hayden was forced to hold on to the wrought iron headboard.
Brent gathered her hair in his fist and pulled her head back. When he spoke, his voice sounded raw and severe. “I’m going to ask you some questions now. The answer to all of them is my name. You following me?”
She made a breathy sound of agreement, but apparently unsatisfied with her answer, he tugged on his fistful of her hair. “Yes. Yes!”
He filled her completely and held his hips still. “Who gets the deepest, Hayden?”
“Brent,” she moaned.
Two quick thrusts. “Who gets fucking hot when his naughty little bad girl makes him work hard for it? Makes him wait?”
Oh God, that nearly sent her hurtling over the edge. Her muscles clenched, her thighs shook. Any minute now. “Brent!”
“Who tongued your pussy for an hour straight last night?”
“Brent,” she sobbed. “Brent.”
He let go of her hair and buried his face in her neck, voice dropping considerably. “Who do you belong to?”
His name sat right on the tip of her tongue. Her instincts told her to scream it. When she didn’t answer right away, she felt him tense on top of her. Her silence was hurting him. Hating his pain, loving the sense of rightness her heart’s answer made her feel, she threw caution to the wind and followed her instincts. “Brent.”
On top of her, his body shuddered. “Hayden,” he groaned into her neck. Then he gripped her hips and began to move once again, his powerful drives quickly casting her into oblivion. She had no time to prepare for the release that tore her apart, feelings too close to the surface to keep them separate from her physical pleasure. They overwhelmed her, threatened to sink her, but Brent’s presence, his steady voice, managed to anchor her.
As always, when he climaxed, Hayden marveled at the contrast of uncommon strength and powerlessness in him. He could do nothing but ride out the ecstasy, a slave to his body’s needs. Her body’s needs. She closed her eyes and memorized the shaking of his body, the choked noises he couldn’t contain. The way he held on to her as if she, too, had somehow become his anchor when neither of them expected it.
He lay down on the bed beside her, sweat dotting his forehead. She didn’t hesitate, but went straight into his arms, sighing when he planted a kiss on her head.
After a moment, he broke the silence. “Did that answer all of your questions?”
She smiled into his chest. “Nope. Still wondering what we’re having for breakfast.” Laughter rumbled through him, but he waited for her real answer. She took a silent breath. “Yes. Although if you want to remind me that same way whenever possible, I’d appreciate it.”
…
Brent shoved yesterday’s clothes into his overnight bag, throwing another impatient glance at the door connecting his room to Hayden’s. Christ, she’d gone to shower and change a mere half hour ago and he already missed the sight of her. He’d rushed through his shower, hoping she’d do the same so they could spend the remaining hour before checkout together, but he’d emerged from the shower to find her door locked. He knew her game now and it only excited him. It was her turn to run the show. She wanted to frustrate him, make him wait. Perhaps she’d wait until they had ten minutes to go before coming to him so he’d have to take her quickly. Frantically.
He stared hard at the door, contemplating the idea of knocking. Saying something dirty to her through the barrier, giving her no choice but to open it. She’d be soft and fragrant from her shower. Her scent still lingered in the room, but he needed it up close. He didn’t have a name for her scent. Expensive, appetizing, light, tempting.
Shit. Why don’t you just grab some hotel stationery and write a quick haiku, Romeo? Ode to Hayden’s body. While his fevered thoughts regarding her body could easily take up eight hotel notepads, he could completely double that on Hayden the sensual flirt. Hayden the rumpled jokester. Hayden the girl who carried around hidden pain, locking it up so tight she rarely allowed anyone a glimpse. She’d given him a brief glance last night on the boardwalk and now he wanted more. To learn every part of her. Find out more about what made her tick.
Furthermore, Brent wanted to show her the parts of himself he normally kept hidden under his loud, abrasive personality. The one he showed the world, but didn’t necessarily sum him up. He wanted her to see more. Wanted to show her more.
To his relief, she’d agreed in her own roundabout way to give him that chance. All right, his methods for gaining her agreement hadn’t exactly been fair, but when had they ever fought fair? He and Hayden did things their own unusual way and he wouldn’t change it for anything. They’d have bumps along the way to finding out where this relationship would go, but dammit if he didn’t look forward to arguing. And hell…making up? He got hard just thinking about it.
His cell phone rang beside him on the bed. His sister Lucy’s picture popped up on the screen and he shivered in horror at having a hard-on at the same time. He shook his head to dispel thoughts of an angry yet turned-on Hayden from his mind and answered the phone.
“Luce. What’s wrong? You need bail money again?”
“Funny. You should take your act on the road.” He couldn’t help but smile at her sarcastic response. His sister looked and acted like a sorority girl, but she was hell on wheels. Yet underneath her strawberry curls, so like their mother’s, lurked a closet brainiac. Her intelligence motivated him to work twice as many hours. What was a couple extra hours in a greasy garage when his little sister might take her college education and change the world someday? If she didn’t get herself killed skydiving or speeding on her moped first. “Besides, that one time was a misunderstanding. I didn’t know bonfires weren’t allowed on campus. There should be clearly marked signs.”
“That say what? ‘Use your common sense’?”
She snorted. “All right, I’m going to let you get away with that one. I’m too happy with you today to take issue with your stuffy tone.”
He glanced back at the connecting door. What the hell was taking Hayden so long? “Happy with me?”
“Of course! How come you didn’t tell me you were applying for tuition grants? I would have helped fill out paperwork. Who knew I was even eligible for one?”
Brent felt a sense of foreboding settle in his stomach. His sixth sense kicked into high gear. This was somehow bad news. He just knew it. “Okay, let’s start from the beginning. What grant are you talking about? Who told you the tuition had been paid?”
“The bursar called me. They received funds for the remainder of my tuition from the…” She trailed off and he heard some papers rustling in the background. “The Winstead Foundation.”
His hand tightened on the phone until he heard the plastic creak in his fist. When he spoke, the words felt like they were being strangled from his throat. “Did they say anything else?”
“Nope. Just that I’d been personally selected by the head of the foundation. Some rich person named Hayden Winstead. I’m not even sure if that’s a man or a woman’s name. What do you think?”
“Woman,” he answered through clenched teeth. “She’s a woman.”
A long pause. “O-kay. You seem pretty sure about that.”
“Oh, I am. I have to go, Luce.” He hung up on her concerned response. For long moments, he sat there staring into space, trying to get his anger under control. Then he realized he didn’t want to get it under control. In his life, he couldn’t remember ever feeling this way. He didn’t have a name for the foreign emotion boiling in his chest. Just knew that in one fell swoop, Hayden had managed to take away everything he’d worked so hard to accomplish. Every day, he got up and busted his ass to provide for his loved ones. It’s how he defined himself. How he looked at himself in the mirror. What the hell had been the point if someone who didn’t understand the concept of money just made a phone call and took the privilege away from him?
As if on cue, the connecting door opened and Hayden walked in looking so goddamn beautiful it made breathing difficult. She smiled as though she hadn’t just turned his world upside down by passing on her American Express number to pay for his sister’s education. As if she hadn’t just stripped him of the only thing he had. His pride.
“Story called. They want to check out and grab brunch somewhere before heading back. Sound good? Daniel said he’ll show up when he’s ready, whatever that means.” Her easy glide in his direction faltered. “What’s wrong?”
“When did you do it?” he said quietly, voice echoing in his own ears. “Did you even consider consulting me first?”
“Do…what?” She shook her head. “I’m not following.”
He pushed off the bed, scoffing as he passed her. “My sister just called me. If your plan was to play stupid, you should have made the grant anonymous.”
She stared at him for a beat. “You might as well be talking in Swahili. I gather you’re upset, but I assure you I’m not playing stupid.”
“Right, Hayden. Just keep up the act and maybe the idiot mechanic will eventually buy it.” He shoved his wallet and keys into the front pocket of his jeans. “My sister just called. The Winstead Foundation paid for her college tuition. Selected personally by Miss Hayden Winstead herself.”
Her face drained completely of color. She opened her mouth to speak but only a few confused words emerged. “I don’t…but that makes no…sense.”
Even with righteous anger coursing through his veins, the sight of her in distress felt like a hard kick in the stomach. He dismissed his need to yank her into his arms and forgive her, just so she’d smile again. But he wouldn’t mean it. So he stood his ground.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You tried to pay me after our last night together.” His pronouncement caused her to fall back a step. He ignored the immediate sting of regret over his choice of words. There was no room for regret in addition to his resentment. “I didn’t accept your money last time. I won’t accept it this time. Or ever. Keep your goddamn money, Hayden. We’re not all sitting around hoping for a piece of the Winstead fortune.”
“Of course not. That’s ridiculous. I never saw it like th—”
“God. Can you even see outside of your privileged bubble? Just because your life is planned and controlled down to the smallest detail, doesn’t mean you can control everyone else with money, too. What you did was purely selfish.”
Brent watched as she absorbed his words. And changed right before his very eyes. In a matter of seconds, she went from the casual, playful girl he’d spent the night with to the cool, ivory-tower-dwelling princess he’d fought with relentlessly for months. Warm, chocolate-brown eyes turned shuttered. Her posture stiffened. Brent wanted to shout at the ceiling as he watched her slip away from him, knowing that whatever they’d found in the darkness last night had just been obliterated. Ironically, instead of defusing the bomb-like situation, he’d allowed it to explode in his face.
Hayden laughed without humor and it sliced through him. “I can’t believe I thought for one second that you could get past the damn money. It’s never going to end, is it? You think I’m a spoiled brat and no matter what I say or do, nothing will change that. Every time we fight, I’m going to be reminded of how very little I know about the real world, about honest work. You’ll do it every time. Well, guess what? I’m already sick of it.” She took a step toward the door. “Count me out.”
Brent followed her. “You went behind my back. Accomplished something in minutes that should’ve taken me years. You really can’t understand why that would fucking bother me?”
“I understand that it bothers you, Brent. I understand,” she returned. “But without giving me a chance to say a word, you went right to your knee-jerk response of crucify the rich girl.”
He shrugged. “If the Italian leather pump fits…”
Fuck. That one finally pushed her too far. He briefly considered hiding underneath the desk to avoid the inevitable explosion, only he wouldn’t fit. Her breasts rose and fell in her fury, fists curled at her sides. Jesus, she looked gorgeous when she got worked up. “Go ahead and return the money, you moronic asshole. I’m going to use it to erect a statue in Times Square. A hundred-foot, bronze middle finger pointing toward Queens.”
Brent couldn’t help it. He pushed her further. His anger outweighed his common sense. And his libido crushed them both. Pissed-off Hayden equaled rough, dirty sex and he needed the release. The distraction. The idea of losing himself in her tempted him beyond control. “If you need a reminder of how much you enjoy my middle finger, just ask. You don’t have to go building memorials in its honor.”
She shook her head slowly. “This has all been one huge mistake.”
No. No, that’s not the reaction he’d wanted. He wanted her to throw him on the bed and ride out her temper. But she was already striding back into her room, steps clipped and purposeful. “Where are you going? This isn’t over.”
“It was over before it began.” Brent caught up with her, but she jerked away when he grabbed her arm. Her rejection didn’t deter him. Wouldn’t deter him. Boosting her onto the waist-level dresser, he moved between her thighs and went to kiss her hard. As his mouth descended, her look of undiluted panic confused him and he paused. Words escaped her mouth in a rush. “Yes, I paid the tuition. It was nothing to me. Nothing. I’ll spend that amount on hair product this month alone.” She averted her eyes. “Get off me. When I decided I wanted a kept man, this isn’t what I had in mind.”
Hayden used Brent’s shock as an opportunity to grab her overnight bag and dart out of the room.