“They just wanted to update me on Dad. He has a fever, so they’ve given him antibiotics.”
“Why didn’t you say anything? We should go back.”
I pull her to stop outside the ice cream shop and take her in my arms, smiling. “I love that you care. I do. But he’s fine,” I assure her. “But, I do have a question; what did Dad mean when he told me to thank you?”
Laughing, she sags into me, a mischievous look in her eye. “I may or may not have sent him the picture of you up on stage with that drag queen, Luna, and the video I got of you squealing like a girl when the dog was chasing you.”
“Your dad put steak in my pocket,” I remind her, still not happy about it.
“But you didn’t know that.”
“Not until the beast ripped my coat apart. I thought I was going to die,” I growl. “How the hell did your dad even do that?”
She shrugs, not even the slightest bit impressed that he managed to steal my coat unnoticed and fill the inside with steak. And I only have theories as to how he knew that dog would be there, and that it was addicted to steak.
“He has a gift. You never know what he will do.”
“I guess I know where you get it from.”
“Thank you,” she states proudly, frowning when my phone rings. “Is it the home?”
Seeing my assistant’s number, I grimace in apology to Hayden. “No, but I do need to get this. It’s Clarke.” I pull out a twenty from my pocket. “Why don’t you go grab your sugar coma food while I take this.”
She snatches it out of my hand with a fiery grin. “You don’t need to tell me twice.”
I shake my head as I answer my phone. “Clarke, everything okay?”
“Yes, but I just need to check something. Did you want the Larkin contract faxed through tonight?”
“Yes,” I tell him, catching sight of Hayden through the shop window. I’m taken off guard to see her laughing and joking with an older lady, who has a dog in her bag. She’s stroking the top of the dog’s head, bending down and cooing at it.
“Clayton?”
“Yes, um, sorry. Go ahead and send it.”
I end the call, and instead of going inside, I continue to watch her. Her smile lights up the room, and as she talks to the old lady in front of her, she does it with her entire body. She does it with soul.
I’ll never get used to her. She’s strong, stubborn and outspoken, and yet she’s much more. Despite her behaviour at times, despite her strong will and the walls she has up, she’s one of the kindest, most caring and selfless people I know.
Not even her fighting with six-year-olds could put me off her. I love that she speaks her mind, not caring what others think of her. Because she knows there is more to her and she only cares that she knows that. I know there’s more to her. But I’ll take her crazy if it means I get to have her because she’s one of the best people to be around.
And each time I get a glimpse of what’s underneath, I want her even more.
She gives the dog one last stroke before heading towards me, half eaten ice cream in hand.
“Everything okay?”
“Did you not get me one?” I muse.
Her mouth sensually closes around the spoon, sucking the mint ice cream into her mouth. “Nope. I did buy the old lady one inside though.”
I look over her shoulder, seeing the woman smiling as she takes her order. “What, why?”
“Because she didn’t have enough change.”
I smile, glancing down at her. “You surprise me at every turn.”
“I like to keep people on their toes,” she tells me, leaning up to give me a spoonful of ice cream.
Knowing she doesn’t give it away freely, I take it, the coldness sharp on my sensitive teeth.
Her pupils dilate as she steps closer, scanning my face. “Why are you looking at me like you want to eat me and not this yummy ice cream? I mean, I don’t share with just anyone you know. You should enjoy it.”
I snatch the tub from her, throwing it in the bin, and before she can protest, I press my lips against hers.
A vicious curse leaves her lips before I slide my tongue inside, massaging mine against hers. She moans, clinging to my jacket.
I feel her shiver under me as she pulls back, breathing heavily. “I’m not sure they’d appreciate the view.” I glance to the side, noticing the old lady and a few members of staff staring out of the window, all smiling.
“Let’s go,” I tell her, my voice husky as I lead her into the Travelodge, pulling her into the lift.
She pulls at my jacket, kissing me passionately as I shove her against the side of the lift.
I unzip her coat before palming her waist, squeezing.
She lets out a groan when the doors open. I lift her up, smiling as she wraps her legs around my waist.
“God, I want you so bad,” I growl, sliding the key card out my back pocket and into the door.
Shutting the door behind us, I walk her to the end of the bed, placing her on her feet. Within seconds, we’re both reaching for each other’s clothes.
I groan when I get another look at her in her black laced bra and briefs. Her toned body has my cock twitching.
Her hand runs over my bare chest and a tortured pleasure shoots through me. I won’t last. Not with her. Not with her hands on me.
I gently lie her back on the bed, gripping her briefs and slowly slide them down her legs. “Take off your bra,” I order.
She moans, reaching up to unclip it. When her gorgeous breasts are free, I eye them for a moment, moaning.
I cup her pussy, rubbing the palm of my hand over her clit. She arches, moaning low in her throat.
“Please,” she rasps, rising her hips off the bed.
I smirk, bending down and kissing her pubic bone, licking down to her mould and over her clit.
She bucks, slapping her hands down on the sheets, gripping them. I continue to torture her, flicking the tip of my tongue over her clit as I pump a finger inside of her.
“I want you inside me,” she growls, her breathing coming faster.
“Tonight, we are going slow.”
“What?” she screeches before another moan escapes her.
I thrust another finger into her, forcing back a smirk at the sound of her moans. “I want you slow.”
“I want it hard.”
I thrust another finger up inside of her, pumping at a nice, steady pace. “You’ll have what I give you.”
I continue to pump my fingers in and out of her whilst sucking her clit into my mouth. She bucks, convulsing under me as she screams through her orgasm.
I kneel over her, pushing her up the bed before settling between her legs.
“Clayton,” she groans, gripping my shoulders.
“I’ve got you,” I tell her, leaning over to grab a condom off the side. I roll it on, loving the heated expression on her face as she watches me.
I lean down, kissing along her neck, breathing her in. “You smell good. Really good.”
“Fuck me,” she begs.
My cock presses against her wetness, sliding through her slick folds. I lean down, capturing her lips with mine, demanding access with my tongue. Her fingers dig into my shoulders harder and I growl, reaching down and lining my cock at her entrance before thrusting hard inside her.
“Clayton,” she cries out.
Slowly, I rock in and out, watching as her face scrunches up in frustration. “Slow,” I remind her, thrusting inside.
“Stop torturing me,” she pleads, thrusting her hips up.
I lean down, sucking her nipple into my mouth before letting it go with a pop. I rise up, running a hand through her hair as I stare down at her. Her lips part, her lids lowering in a flutter.
“You drive me insane.”
“You are driving me insane,” she growls.
I smirk before leaning down, kissing her deeply. I feel like I’m burning from within, my entire body heating from having her.
Her musc
les clench around my cock, and I moan, tensing above her. It’s hard not to ram inside her hard and fast, but we’ve done that. I want to show her she means more to me than a quick fuck.
Her nails rake down my back and she knows what that does to me. I growl against her lips, speeding up my movements.
“You are torture,” I tell her, my voice raspy.
“Ditto,” she tells me, bringing my head down for another kiss.
My cock slides through her wetness with ease, throbbing inside of her.
I reach down between us, rubbing her clit in a slow, torturous circular motion.
“Oh God,” she moans, squeezing her eyes shut.
When she opens them, she blinks up at me, her breathing laboured. I cup her jaw, locking my gaze with hers.
Her pupils dilate, her lips parting on a soft puff of air. “Clayton,” she whispers.
I’m close, too close, and I want to make sure she comes first.
“Hayden.”
Her eyes close as every muscle in her body tightens, her hips arching off the bed as a moan escapes her lips.
Feeling her tighten around my cock, my body trembles through my own orgasm. I shoot my load into the condom as I continue to ride out my orgasm.
I strum my thumb over her cheek and her lids flutter open and a flash of vulnerability passes through her.
I open my mouth—to say what, I don’t know—but no words form.
“What?” she asks, her brows drawn together.
“Nothing,” I lie, before getting up to depose of the condom.
Coming back in, she’s still in the same position, looking relaxed and sated. A smug smile pulls at my lips as I get in beside her, pulling her into my arms.
“Okay, slow isn’t so bad,” she murmurs before yawning.
I run my hand down her back, stroking her soft skin. “It’s really not.”
“Thank you for an amazing couple of days.”
I reach around, cupping her breast in my hand, squeezing the soft globe. “It’s not over yet.”
She begins to squirm, her lips parting as arches into my touch. “It’s not?”
I grin, running my hand down her stomach, over her pubic bone. “Oh no, it’s really not.”
She laughs when I roll us so she’s on top, her hair flowing down. “I guess I should do all the work this time.”
My grin widens as I cup her backside, thrusting her wet pussy over my fully hard cock. “Yeah, I guess you should.”
She leans down, kissing me and all I can think of is how lucky I am to have her. With past relationships, I got bored, not just in the bedroom, but in general. With Hayden, neither are going to be a problem.
And I won’t change it for anything.
She’s under my skin in the best way.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The grey sky darkens above me as I stand outside the police station. Rain is inevitable and the wind is strong, promising us another day and night of bad weather.
I still have five minutes until the time Beau told me to head inside. He’s going to make sure he’s walking past when I arrive.
My phone beeps with a message. Leaning against the wall, away from the stairs leading up to the station, I slide it out of my black leather jacket, smiling at ‘Hot Jerk Boss’ popping up on my screen.
It was my first day back today, and although he went back last week, we still spent pretty much every night together at my place. However, last night, I didn’t get to see him as he had to be up early today.
HOT JERK BOSS: I know you’re already coming in earlier today to go over what you missed, but would it be wrong of me to ask you to come in earlier? I could order dinner to my office for us both.
The time on my phone says it’s four in the afternoon, so his offer would save me going home for a few hours and being bored.
HAYDEN: Sounds tempting, but you in a suit, in your office, door locked… eating is not what will be on my mind.
It’s a couple of minutes before he replies.
HOT JERK BOSS: Getting a hard on at work whilst you are in the middle of a boring conference meeting isn’t as exciting as people make it out to be.
Laughing, I type out my reply, my fingers flying across the screen.
HAYDEN: Is Gillian from downstairs there?
Gillian is one of the researchers for the nature and wildlife magazine on the first floor. It’s a different department to the station but still owned by the Cross family. There are times we cross paths with her on our floor, mostly when we’ve been short-staffed. Her curious nature scares other people in the building. It’s like she knows what people are thinking or what they’ve done.
HOT JERK BOSS: Yes! How did you know? She’s freaking me out. She’s been staring at me for five minutes with a disgusted look upon her face.
HOT JERK BOSS: Please say you’ll come and keep me company. I should be out of here in about an hour.
HAYDEN: I’ll bring food. I’ve got something to do first, so I’ll message you when I’m on my way.
When I see his smiley face emoji, I smile and slide my phone back into my pocket.
I have to get this done. My stomach is in knots because I’m worried I’m going to fuck this up. There are people relying on me, even if they don’t know it, to get this done. I can’t let them down. I can pull the wool over many people’s eyes, but for some reason, that inkling of doubt keeps crawling up my spine, making me think they’ll see right through this ploy.
Inhaling, I straighten my jacket before taking the first step up to the large building.
As I reach the wide oak double doors, I put on my game face, inhaling and exhaling quick breaths before pushing open the door and rushing to the front desk, pretending to be out of breath. I need them to take me seriously. If I’m calm and collected, I’m worried they’ll make me wait. Although, this is only for the receptionist. When I go into that meeting, I’m going in headstrong.
“I need to speak to PC Rob Howard. It’s about the break-ins that have been happening.”
“Calm down, miss. Let me take your name,” the older lady behind the desk asks.
“Please, this is important. I really need to see him.”
“Hayden? What are you doing here?” Beau asks, repeating his rehearsed speech. “Is everything okay?”
I sag against the counter, blowing out a breath. “Beau, I really need to speak to Rob and the people who are working the break-ins. I have really important information.”
“Let her through, Hayley,” Beau orders gently.
“That’s not protocol. She needs to be signed in,” she argues.
“She’s family. If she says it’s important, it’s important.”
“Okay, but if anyone asks, I’ll tell them you let her through,” she tells him.
He gestures for me to go to the side door, where Hayley proceeds to buzz me in.
“Are they all here?” I whisper when I reach him, ducking my head so no one can read my lips.
He places a hand on the bottom of my back, guiding me down a hallway. “Yes.”
He pushes open a door to what looks like a conference room. An oval table sits in the middle, surrounded by eight brown chairs, three of which are occupied by Rob and two others.
The eldest of the three sits forward, frowning at Beau and I. “Beau, this is a private meeting.”
Rob looks up, stunned to see me for a minute, before his eyes widen. “Please tell me they didn’t get to you?”
“You knew?” Beau grits out.
Rob winces. “You know Hayden; she wouldn’t let it drop. I did warn her.”
“We’ll talk about it after,” Beau warns him, before turning to the older gentlemen who first spoke. “This is Hayden Carter. She’s my fiancé’s cousin. Hayden has some important information about the break-ins that you need to hear.”
“Take a seat. I’m detective Walker, this is PC Fisher, and from what I can see, you already know PC Howard.”
Fisher stays quiet, watching, processing, but for
someone in his mid-forties, he’s probably used to doing that.
Rob still looks sick with worry, his eyes shadowed from lack of sleep. If one of them is guilty, they aren’t showing their hand, which means they’ve been hiding this for longer than people realise. Someone who can be this cool and collected has had practice.
They most likely think they’ll get away with it.
Beau pulls out a chair at the end of the table, and I take it, smiling at him as he sits down in the chair beside me.
“Hi,” I greet, giving them a small wave. I try not to put on much of a show. Rob will see right through it, having met me before.
“What information do you have for us?” Fisher asks, paying more attention now.
“Before I reveal anything more, I’ll need your cooperation.”
They sit up straighter in their seats, expressions serious. Something tells me it has nothing to do with the seriousness of the situation, but the fact a girl has come in and told them what to do. The only ones who don’t seem as fazed are Beau and Rob. Which is a good sign for Rob.
“If we can, we will,” Walker practically forces out.
“I’ve been following the story, asking questions of potential witnesses—”
“I asked you not to do that,” Rob snaps, frowning at me. “Look what happened to Christina.”
“If she has something, let her speak. You can hash out your disagreements after. I, for one, would like to hear what she has to say. These burglaries need to end,” Fisher comments, his jaw clenched when he looks at Rob.
Hmm, it seems those two aren’t besties.
I clear my throat when it becomes tense. “A girl contacted me yesterday morning. She claims to have evidence that can provide proof with regards to the burglaries, although she wouldn’t tell me of what or of whom, and that she could only talk to me. She feels like she’s being watched, and that whoever these people are, they know she has information that could be a problem for them, so she doesn’t feel safe to hand in the evidence herself.
“She’s going to meet me on Friday at nine pm to hand it over.”
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