On The Rocks (Love After Midnight Book 3)

by Elise Faber

  My breathing wasn’t steady in the least, but I managed to say, “You haven’t had time to have lots of dreams.”

  “Oh, Rocky,” he whispered, and I felt his hot breath just above my ass, the words glazing my skin like frosting. “You underestimate my imagination.”

  A kiss above the hook of my bra, making my breath hitch.

  “It’s not imagination,” I pushed out.

  A chuckle, the clasp popping open. “Okay, dreaming ability then.”

  “Is that—” I broke off for a moment when those calloused hands slipped under the band, pushing the straps off my shoulders. “Another of your super, secret agent skills?”

  “Hmm?” he asked, hands brushing up and down my back.

  Goose bumps prickled on my skin, my nerve endings on fire. When this man touched me, every cell seemed to come alive. And when he followed the trail of his fingers with his mouth, pressing gentle teasing kisses to my nape, all down my spine, desire pooled between my thighs, the ache to have him inside growing more intense with every second.

  Still, I liked bantering with him, even in this setting, and so I managed to prompt, “Your dreaming ability?”

  A rough chuckle. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said against my skin.

  “I—”

  He kissed me, just shifted my head slightly so he could take my lips in a searing kiss that knocked all thoughts of banter out of my brain.

  “What did you mean, Rocky?” he asked when he pulled back.

  My chest was heaving, my skin seeming tight and too small for my body.

  And I couldn’t remember what I’d meant. Something about skills and dreams, but mostly all I could think was how good it felt when Hayden had his hands on me.

  “I don’t care anymore.”

  Another chuckle, and I swear this one arrowed right toward my pussy, it was so full of rough, male heat. Then he slid his palms beneath me to cup my breasts.

  We both groaned, and when his thumb brushed my nipple, I bucked. “Hayden!”

  A smile against my skin, a nip to my shoulder, and in one of those rapid movements, he flipped me again. I bounced once before he was on me again, this time tugging my bra off and tossing it to the side, his head dipping to take my nipple into his mouth.

  Oh, fuck, that was good.

  Pleasure tore through me, tightened every muscle, and I found my hands in his hair, holding him to me.

  A palm sliding down, nudging my panties off my hips, down my thighs, fingers slipping between. He groaned against my breasts the moment he encountered the wet folds of my pussy.

  “Fuck, baby,” he whispered. “You’re so wet.”

  “More,” I demanded, tugging on his hair, wanting his mouth on my nipples, even as he stroked his finger around the entrance to my body.

  He bent and sucked my other nipple deep, thumb shifting so it brushed my clit, alternating between circling it and pressing firmly, finding the rhythm I liked best and then exploiting it with those secret skills until I felt every cell in my body come to life. Pleasure built, need coiling in my abdomen, spreading outward, as I wound tighter and tighter and tighter until—

  “Hayden!” I gasped as I exploded.

  Lips on my nipple, suckling, wringing every last bit of desire out of my body until I collapsed limply back to the mattress.

  Only then did he release my breast, slip his fingers free.

  He shifted to the side, one warm hand resting on my stomach, tracing light patterns on my skin.

  “I hope you’re not planning on stopping,” I said, my tone missing my usual sharp, mostly because he’d just pleasured it out of me.

  “Oh, no,” he murmured, mouth brushing mine. “I’m not that good.”

  “You better not be,” I whispered and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, kissing him with every bit of like—and maybe more—that I possessed. “Give me everything, Hayden. I want to see every part of you.” I reached down, wrapped my fingers around his hard cock. “To feel every part.”

  And it was like a leash had snapped.

  He rolled to his back, taking me with him so I was on top, his hands touching every inch of me he could reach, his mouth demanding as his tongue rubbed against mine in a tempo that had me blowing past the limpness that had settled into my limbs after my orgasm. Need rocketed through me, making my pussy ache, my nipples bead into hard little points.

  But even with all of that, I needed so much more.

  I needed everything.

  Pumping my hand up and down the hard length of him, I started to shift down to take him inside.

  He groaned when the head of his cock brushed my pussy, hips jerking.

  “Wait, baby,” he whispered. “Condom.”

  Fuck. Condom. Of course, we needed a condom. Except . . . I didn’t have any. It wasn’t like my sex life was rocking, and I’d been quite clear on my only-buying-things-that-I-needed hang-up.

  First thing tomorrow I was going to do was buy some.

  “I’m clean,” he said. “I was tested before I got out.”

  “I’m on the shot,” I told him. “But I haven’t been tested in a while. We should—”

  A nod, another quick movement, and he was out from beneath me, reaching for his pants and extracting his wallet. He had a condom in his hand, rolled it down the length of his cock, and was prowling back toward me in just a few seconds.

  I lay back, spread my legs, not missing the heavy weight of his gaze nor the way it made me feel as it traced every inch of me.

  “You don’t want to assume the previous position?” he asked, crawling up the length of my body, stopping only to press a kiss to my ankle, my calf, the inside of my thigh.

  “No,” I breathed, the exhale shuddering out when he paused between my legs and traced his tongue up through the damp heat. A flick against my clit that had me seeing stars, my fingers threading into his hair. I tugged upward, but he didn’t move; Instead . . .

  He gave me the best kiss of my life.

  Tongue tracing and flicking, delving inside, his thumb coming to my clit. Then switching hand and mouth, one finger pressing into me while he nipped and kissed and used the flat of his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

  Stars at the edges of my vision, tension coiling in my limbs, heat licking at my nerve endings, and then—

  He pulled away.

  “Hayden!”

  A grin, cocky and sexy as hell, but before I could snap at him for it, he was moving up my body, pushing inside.

  “Fuck,” he groaned. “That’s good.”

  I agreed, but couldn’t form words, not with need filling me, not with my eyes rolling into the back of my head, not with my fingers clenching on the hard planes of his chest, his back, his stomach, my hips thrusting against him as he slid out and then back in.

  Not when pleasure was already spreading through me.

  Not when—

  He began moving.

  In and out. Pressing deep, sliding back oh so slowly. I couldn’t do anything except feel.

  “More,” I gasped when he started stroking faster, hitting just the right spot, the right rhythm. It wasn’t a struggle, and there wasn’t any hesitation. It was just Hayden and me and the easy drumbeat of us together.

  As though we’d been meant for each other from the moment we’d been created.

  As though we’d just needed our voices to mix on that porch, our bodies to connect at the bar, our hearts to become laced together on the beach and everything would be right in the world.

  He cupped my breast, slanted his mouth over mine, shifted his hips so he pressed against my clit on every thrust . . . and that was it.

  I exploded, my orgasm bursting through me in a cloud sparkling pleasure, making my lips tingle, my fingertips prickle, my skin tighten further as wave after wave of bliss coursed through my body.

  Distantly, I felt Hayden stroke into me once, twice more, before he groaned and collapsed, his lips against my throat, his limp body heavy on
mine.

  The soft words he whispered in my ear weren’t distant, however. I heard them with crystal clarity, held them close to my heart, in a safe place I knew would never be breached.

  “I love you, Rocky.”

  And I almost said it back.

  The feeling was there. In my heart, my gut, my brain.

  But . . . I was too scared. So instead, I held him close, arms and legs wrapped tightly around him, as both of our breathing slowed, as our pulses steadied, as sleep crept up and over me.

  The ringing wasn’t welcome.

  Really. Not. Fucking. Welcome.

  I rolled to the side, grabbed my phone and saw it was my brother calling.

  A thread of worry had me swiping my finger across the screen, had me bringing it up to my ear, and saying, “Hello?” softly as I tried to extract myself from Hayden’s hold.

  He’d rolled with me toward the phone, but now he was playing octopus, a heavy arm around my waist, his legs pinning mine to the bed.

  “Anabelle,” my brother clipped out. “We need to talk.”

  I stiffened, alarm coursing through me. “Is Dad okay?”

  “He’s fine,” Tom said. “For now. But you need to consider that what you’re doing with your life isn’t good for him.”

  “For him?” I asked. “Or for you?”

  No hesitation before his response. “For him. You already killed one of our parents—”

  “No.” I sat up, knew that in the short length of time since the conversation began, Hayden had fully woken because he didn’t fight the motion, just sat up next to me and pressed his shoulder to mine.

  “No, what?” Tom snapped.

  I sucked in a breath, released it slowly. “No, you don’t get to use that anymore. I hate that she’s gone. I miss her more than you would believe.” Another breath. “But I’m done with taking on whatever guilt it is that you’re displacing onto me. I don’t know if I’m an easy target, or if you’re shouldering your own guilt and so it’s easier for you to blame me, but I’m done being your punching bag.”

  Not even a beat between me finishing that speech and his response. “It’s your fau—”

  “No,” I repeated. “It’s not.”

  A pause this time, probably expecting me to cave or apologize or make nice. I might have done it before, just to get the conversation over with, to avoid having to dig any additional heavy emotions up.

  Except . . . they were already up.

  They were already pressing on both of us. “We used to be close once,” I said. “I miss those times. I want us to find our way back to that.”

  Only cold in reply. “You’re the one who left.”

  “You’re right. I did. But I’m not in the habit of running from my life anymore,” I said, then added quickly, just to make my intentions clear, “That doesn’t mean I’m switching coasts like you guys did. I like it here in California. I have a life, a job. But I’ll talk to Dad, let him know I’ll visit more regularly. That I won’t disappear.”

  “Your job—”

  “Is not up for discussion,” I said. “I don’t know that I’ll do it long term or go back to school or become a fucking receptionist at a nudist colony. What I do know? Is that if you give one damn about me as your sister—and I think you do, based on the fact that for all the crap you’ve piled on me over the years you’ve never cut me out of your life—then you need to stop treating me like shit.”

  Silence.

  “Because that’s why I never severed ties, Tom. That’s why I visit.” I sighed. “I love you guys. That won’t change. Ever. I just . . . need to find my own path. One that’s mine alone.”

  Quiet. So much quiet that I thought for a second he’d actually hung up, but then I glanced down at my cell and saw the call was still going.

  I put it back up to my ear just in time to hear him sigh.

  “A nudist colony?” he asked. “Really?”

  Amusement made my lips curve. “If I want.”

  I could almost hear him shaking his head, but then he sighed, and his voice went warmer than I’d heard in years, almost reminiscent of my big brother growing up. “I need to think on what you said.” A beat, then, “I never considered—” He broke off.

  “Tom.”

  He kept going. “If I’m doing what you said, if it’s something I’m holding on to, that I’m blaming you for and have no right to, then . . . I’m sorry,” he said. “But you know I’m not great with emotions, at looking deeply at them when they don’t involve work—”

  “Your work involves emotions?” I teased.

  “Occasionally.” Another sigh. “I don’t deviate off courses well, but you brought up a valid argument. I’ll look into it. I promise you.”

  Not soft, fluffy words. Not statements of affection.

  But an apology and a promise to look into himself.

  So, in the end, it was much more than I expected.

  “Think you can convince Kelly to stop trying to intervene in my life as well?”

  Tom snorted. “No,” he said. “Did you know the other day, she came over while Betty”—his wife—“and I were at work and changed out all the sheets in the house?”

  “Considering the same brand of sheets are on my bed because she made me FaceTime her while I changed them or else she’d fly out and put them on herself? Yes.” I laughed, hope and joy bubbling in my heart when he laughed alongside me. “Thankfully, they are nice sheets.”

  “Yes,” he said. “There is that.”

  “And you still think I should come home and subject myself to the power of Kelly?”

  Silence. “We all miss you.”

  A hard thump in my chest, one that gave me the hope that things might get better. Not go back to the way they were, but that we might find a new way forward. “I promise I’ll visit soon.”

  A chuckle. “Drawing the line in the sand already?”

  “Yup.”

  “Good,” he said, surprising me. “Anabelle—”

  Hayden’s phone beeped and he murmured a quiet, “Sorry,” before slipping from the bed and going over to answer it.

  “Was that a man?” Tom demanded, voice hardening. “Do you have a man in your house? It’s early. Does that mean you had a man spend the night?”

  “Newsflash, I’m not a virgin, bro,” I said, glancing over at Hayden, seeing his lips twitch upward as he slipped into the hall to finish his call.

  “I—”

  “Gotta go,” I said and hung up before he could say anything further. Before either of us got mad enough to ruin the progress we’d just made.

  My phone buzzed before it reached my lap.

  I’m sorry. I promise I’ll do some thinking and figure it out.

  Lungs easing, I shook my head, started typing out a response, but before I could, my cell vibrated again.

  And he’d better treat you right, or he’ll have to answer to me.

  Another text came through almost immediately.

  I know what right is.

  Because I also know I’ve been doing it wrong for all these years.

  I was blinking back an annoying itch in my eyes—definitely not tears, no ma’am—when Hayden walked back into the room.

  “You okay?” he asked, immediately coming to my side.

  I nodded.

  “You were fucking fabulous,” he said, cupping my cheeks in his palms. “I am so, so proud of you for saying that. For being strong and articulate and”—he waggled his brows—“for wanting to work at a nudist colony. I’m in. Sign me up.”

  Snorting, I dropped my forehead to his shoulder, so many feelings for this man welling up inside me, coalescing into a bigger, deeper emotion.

  Into love.

  So much love that I wanted to shout it from the rooftops, to kiss Hayden senseless and tell him I must have a little McAlister in me because I’d fallen for him, too.

  But before I could, he scooped me into his arms and carried me into the bathroom.

  The shower was already run
ning, steam filling the space.

  “Wash up,” he murmured, “and I promise, I’ll cook you breakfast.”

  “You saying I smell?” He put his nose to my armpit and inhaled as I shrieked and tried to block him. “Hayden!”

  “You smell like the most fucking delicious treat on the planet, but I have a job interview this morning and I want to feed you first.” Hay brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. “Let me?”

  “A job interview?”

  He nodded. “KTS set it up. A security company that works with them remotely.”

  “That sounds—”

  He kissed me. “Perfect,” he whispered, “because you thought of it. Thank you.” Another press of his mouth to mine.

  “Congratulations,” I said when he pulled away.

  “I haven’t gotten the job yet.” His thumb brushed my bottom lip, sent heat arrowing between my thighs.

  But he had a chance, so I stepped back when I wanted to move forward, to request a repeat of the last hours. “You will.”

  Gentle eyes, amazing words. “I love you.”

  My lips parted, but before I could say anything, he nudged me toward the shower and slipped out the door. “I hope you like pancakes,” he called, voice fading as he moved away.

  “Only if they’re chocolate chip!” I called back.

  “Are there any other kind?” he hollered.

  I laughed, filled with so much happiness that it expanded within me, threatening to burst and consume me.

  But that was okay.

  Because I found that being happy with Hayden in my life wasn’t half bad.

  Hell, who was I kidding?

  It was incredible, and I wasn’t letting him go.

  Eighteen

  Hayden

  I strolled up to Anabelle’s door the next day, a sheaf of papers in my hand, and rang the doorbell.