Sassy Blonde: USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR

by Stacey Kennedy

  The strands of his hair hung over his forehead as she cupped his face. He stared at her. Hard. With lust practically vibrating off him. “You sure you want this, Maisie?”

  She slid her hands down over his neck, his wide shoulders, chest covered in soft dark hair, admiring each and every groove of his six-pack. It’d been two years since she’d seen him at the lake with his shirt off, and Hayes’s body had changed, becoming stronger. Thicker, more muscular. A man’s body.

  “I want you,” she told him.

  The low moan he gave made goose bumps rise across her arms. “Good, because fuck, I need you.”

  His unleashed desire only heightened hers. She brought her hands between them and reached for the button on his jeans and quickly lowered the zipper. This time, when his mouth met hers, his kiss was different. All consuming. A man’s primal hunger. He bit her lower lip before sucking it into his mouth. His tongue stroked hers. His lips matching her rhythm perfectly, like he’d been kissing her a lifetime. All those questions needing answers slowly began to disappear as she lifted her hips, grinding against him.

  “Don’t stop that,” he told her, watching every swirl of her hips. “Fuck, Maisie. Yeah, don’t fucking stop that.” He reached into his back pocket to grab his wallet, extracting a condom. In the next breath, his jeans were down, and his thick cock sprung free.

  Maisie took him in. Every single gorgeous inch of his straining, hardened length. When she lifted her gaze to him, her breath vanished at the uncontrolled fervor staring back at her. She reached out, desperate to feel him in her hand. His eyes slammed shut, head fell back as she stroked the soft, silky skin over hardness, feeling the warm liquid escape the tip. Using that lubrication, she worked her hand over him slowly, delighted by his eager moans.

  When his heated stare finally returned to her, his jaw clenched. He stepped out of her hold to remove her jeans and panties. Once she lay naked there for him, he froze.

  A beat passed. He gazed between her thighs then slowly looked up…and up… “Maisie,” he murmured. Soft, affectionate, warm, and she melted as his hand stroked over her belly. “You’re beautiful.”

  Her heart fluttered. “Not so bad yourself, cowboy.”

  She thought he might chuckle. He didn’t. His brows pulled together as he kept stroking her belly. “I never knew…” His smoldering gaze lifted to hers when his hand slid between her thighs. “Damn, stay just like this. Let me watch you.”

  Her eyes fluttered as he stroked her sensitive flesh slowly, gently, and she arched back into the pleasure when he dragged a finger through her folds. He grunted when he noticed how wet he’d made her. “Fuck yeah, you’re so damn sexy, Maisie.” She opened her eyes, finding him hovering over her. He slid one finger inside her, and she dragged her hands up his forearms, feeling the incredible strength of those hard muscles.

  She reached for his cock and stroked him. Once. Twice. Before his mouth met hers again with a delicious growl, the kiss deeper this time. Faster. Harder. He devoured her until they were both breathing deep. He broke away only to rip open the condom, sheath himself, and then he grabbed her hips and yanked her bum off the bed. He wasn’t polite and gentle. No, he did precisely what she wanted.

  He entered her, right to the hilt. He moved slowly at first. Until he hooked her legs over his shoulders. Then he gripped her hips, the bed squeaking beneath her, the headboard slamming against the wall as his thrusts became everything she needed and more. He drove pleasure into her, rounds of hard and fast thrusts stealing her breath away. Her eyes shut against the sensations taking her under, stealing away the view of Hayes’s gorgeous face and straining muscles. He began pumping harder. Faster. Until the world drifted away and his roar of pleasure followed hers.

  Many, many minutes later, she managed to make her mouth move. “So, that happened,” she said.

  Hayes’s low chuckle rushed over her. He now lay next to her, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths. “It most certainly did.”

  Breathless, too, she glanced sideways at him, finding his eyes closed. “Did we just complicate everything?”

  He turned his head and opened his eyes. “No, it means we wanted something, and we took it.”

  She swallowed the emotion that crept up, an unsettling feeling rolling though her stomach that this thing between them couldn’t be that easy. Blessedly, before she had time to think about it more, her cell phone beeped. She reached for it on the nightstand where she’d left it and looked at the screen. “Shit.”

  Hayes leaned up on one muscular arm. “What’s up?”

  Maisie was tempted to lick that bulging bicep and the vein running along the side. Reminding herself that she was in trouble, she threw on Hayes’s T-shirt and sat cross-legged on the bed next to him. “Oh, you’ll see,” she finally managed to say. Then she accepted the FaceTime call and smiled into the phone. “Hello, Clara.”

  Clara’s ponytail was a mess, makeup smeared under her eyes. “Are you two out of you goddamn minds! A fight?” she snapped. “Seriously? What the hell happened?”

  Maisie sighed. “Well, I…”

  The phone was suddenly ripped away. Hayes arched an eyebrow at Clara. “Someone made unwanted advances on your sister tonight and grabbed her arm hard enough that she flinched. I didn’t like that. The blame for this is on me, not on Maisie.”

  A pause. “I see. Can you put Maisie on the phone please?”

  Maisie fought her smile at Clara’s very serious voice. She accepted the phone. “Yes?”

  Clara’s eyes were huge. “Is Hayes in your bed right now?”

  Hayes lay back down, all man, all muscles, stretched out in the bed and grinned. “Mm-hmm,” she said, looking back at Clara.

  Clara fought her smile. “Let’s talk more tomorrow—” Hard bangs suddenly came at the door. “What’s that?”

  “I dunno,” Maisie replied.

  Hayes jumped out of bed, slid into his jeans, and grabbed a T-shirt from his bag. When he whisked the door open, Maisie’s heart dropped into her stomach.

  “Um, Clara, we need to go.”

  “Why?”

  Maisie took in the two men in uniform, the guns on their waists, and the dark irritation in their gazes. “The police are here.” She ended the call, even though she could hear Clara calling out to her.

  The taller cop said, “Hayes Taylor?”

  “Yeah,” Hayes said, opening the door wider. “What’s the problem?”

  The cop stepped into the room, taking Hayes’s arms behind his back, and then cuffed him. “You’re under arrest for the assault…”

  Voices became a loud roar in Maisie’s head. Regardless that she only wore a T-shirt that just covered her bare butt, she jumped out of bed. “Wait. He didn’t do anything wrong. That other guy was the aggressive one.”

  The other cop pointed at her and scowled. “Sit back down or you’ll be coming with us too.”

  “It’s all right,” said Hayes, his expression soft, reassuring. His voice calm. “Call my father. His number is in my phone. Passcode is 1209.”

  Laurel’s birthday. December 9. Maisie stepped forward. “But—”

  Hayes sent her a smile that chased away the chill. “Keep that bed warm for me. I’ll be back soon.”

  Unsure what to do, she followed him out the door as they took Hayes to the cruiser. Unsurprised by this development—because shit always went wrong—she shut the door and hurried to Hayes’s cell that was now on the floor; obviously it had bounced off the bed. When she found his father’s contact, she hit call.

  “You better be dead or hurt to call me this late,” Hayes’s father said by way of greeting.

  “Um, sorry, Mr. Taylor, it’s actually Maisie.”

  A pause. “Maisie. What’s wrong?”

  “There was a situation earlier. A fight. Blood. A broken nose. The cops just showed up.” She hesitated, reining in her babbling. “They’ve arrested Hayes and took him to the station.”

  His father asked in a clearer voice, �
��Where are you?”

  “Fort Collins.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  The phone line went dead, leaving Maisie growing colder by the second, knowing that once again, everything she touched turned to disaster.

  6

  The stench of old coffee and sweat mixed with the sounds of telephones ringing and doors buzzing overwhelmed Hayes’s senses. Closing his eyes, he rested his head against the hard metal bars of the jail cell. A drunk man slept on the floor across from him, having thrown up three times in the steel toilet. A teenage kid cried in the far corner. Last night, the cops hadn’t asked questions, they’d simply hauled Hayes into the station and left him sitting there ever since. Hours had passed, and Hayes felt every one of them. Politics had to be at play if it took his father this long to get him out, and Hayes wondered who exactly he’d punched last night. But that wasn’t his biggest concern.

  Maisie.

  He’d clammed up when Maisie had asked if they’d complicated things. Of course they had. Because he couldn’t be the man she needed. The one who’d protect her. He was the guy who’d lied to her. Who never told her the real reason Laurel was dead. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, and he wasn’t sure he could do anything but that. And yet…and yet, he needed her, like the air he needed to breathe.

  “Interesting night?”

  Hayes smiled and opened his eyes. His father stood on the other side of the bars, with a uniformed cop next to him. “You could say that.” He rose, approaching the cell’s door. The cop nodded at the camera over his shoulder. The jail cell beeped and then the door clanged open. “What time is it?” Hayes asked as he strode out into the hallway, leaving both the kid and the drunk behind.

  Dad looked at his watch. “Just after two o’clock.”

  Damn, they’d held him long. The aches in his back and neck told Hayes he’d been there for hours, but he hadn’t thought it’d been for nearly fourteen hours. He kept the thought to himself while he gathered his belongings from lock up and followed his father out the front door. Only when the bright sun warmed his face did he address his father. “Let me guess, the dipshit I punched wasn’t just anyone.”

  Dad’s keys jingled as he unlocked his SUV. “He’s a lieutenant’s son.” Before moving to the driver’s side, Dad stopped, folding his arms. “Want to tell me what happened?”

  “The guy got handsy with Maisie last night.”

  Dad’s brows rose. “And that warranted a broken nose?”

  “Ah, good, I broke it.” Hayes hadn’t been sure, even with the blood. He grinned at the slow shake of his father’s head. He wouldn’t apologize for the punch—the prick deserved it and Hayes hoped his nose killed this morning—but to clarify, he added, “His hold was tight enough that she flinched.” Done with explaining himself, Hayes shifted the conversation. “How was Maisie when you saw her this morning?” Her pained gaze when the cops took Hayes away had stayed with him all night.

  His father’s gaze turned probing, his eyes searching. Whatever he found must have erased the remainder of his concerns. “She was worried but settled when she heard me laying into the lieutenant after she’d told me her side of the story.”

  “And what was her side of the story?”

  Dad gave a beaming smile. “She’s thinks you’re a goddamn hero.”

  “Not a bad way for her to see me.” Hayes chuckled. “Though I imagine she was just trying to get me out of jail.”

  “I don’t know about that, son,” Dad said. “There was a ring of truth to it.”

  Hayes glanced down to his worn boots and kicked a pebble away. To avoid talking about this new development with Maisie, he asked, “How many strings did you have to pull to make this go away? Do I owe anyone a favor?”

  Dad opened the door to his SUV. “Not many strings, and no favor owed.” He got in, and Hayes slid into the passenger seat as his father continued. “Maisie told me this morning that you’ve got two more festivals to go to.” He turned on the ignition and gave Hayes a leveled look. “Let’s not punch someone at every one, all right?”

  Hayes snorted. “Believe me when I tell you the prick deserved it.”

  His father didn’t comment on that but opened the glove compartment. He offered Hayes his phone. “Maisie left this for you.”

  Hayes looked at his screen, not finding any calls or texts. “Where is she now?”

  “She fought with me for a good hour about leaving you, but after a call from Clara, she drove your truck to Colorado Springs and is setting up for tonight’s festival.” Dad pulled out into the road and then smiled over at Hayes. “I’m under strict orders to take you there. She’s a force, isn’t she?”

  Hayes laughed and nodded. “She may be little, but she is fierce.”

  “That is very much true with all of the Carter sisters,” Dad noted.

  Hayes agreed and glanced out at the wide-open country, taking in the harvested round hay bales. His thoughts went to Maisie. Her naked body filled his mind. The soft curve of her breasts, her smooth, flat tummy that led down to soft curly hair. God, she was beautiful.

  “All right?”

  Hayes jerked his head toward his father, the images of Maisie in the throes of pleasure gone as fast as they’d come. “Yeah, I’m good. Last night was an annoyance, nothing more.” No matter how much his father pushed him to return to the force, at the heart of it, his father did so because he thought it was right. His father had been a great dad growing up; supportive, attentive, there for him, even more so after his mother had moved away after their divorce. Hayes still had a great relationship with her. She called often. He visited her when he could.

  Dad gave a sideways glance, a knowing smile. “I’m not talking about the fight.”

  Damn. Obviously, Hayes couldn’t control the expression on his face. He needed to fix that before he saw Maisie again.

  “That’s still up for debate,” he admitted.

  “Anything you want to talk about?”

  “Not particularly.” But as soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He’d always told his father the truth. “It’s…”

  “Complicated?” Dad offered.

  Hayes snorted. He’d told Maisie last night it was anything but complicated between them. “Yeah, you could say that.”

  “Because she was Laurel’s best friend?”

  Warmth touched Dad’s tone, and Hayes looked his way, spotting that same warmth in his face. He’d loved Laurel. Everyone loved her. “Part of the reason.”

  “What’s the other part?”

  Hayes glanced out the window, staring out at the whiskey barley fields that rushed by. “You know why.”

  Of course, Dad called him out. “Because she doesn’t know the truth about what happened?” A pause. When Hayes didn’t reply, Dad spat, “You’re an idiot.”

  Hayes scowled at his father. “Am I?”

  “Yes, son, you fucking are.” Dad’s jaw tightened, eyes on the road, fingers white around the steering wheel. “You were dealt a brutal blow. Now you’ve got this sweet, bright woman who has been there picking you up, when we all know, life would have gone dark for you otherwise. And now, instead of making yourself and her happy, you’re too afraid to tell her what happened so you can finally move on. When did you become such a coward?”

  Hayes drew in a deep breath to stop from lashing out. His father didn’t deserve it, especially when every single word was the truth. “What good will telling her the truth do? Bring up all her pain again. Too much time has gone by.”

  “You’re telling me this isn’t about you being afraid because you’re terrified she’ll hate you for it?”

  He cringed at the truth his father hit him with.

  Dad slammed on the brakes, skidding the SUV to a halt on the side of the road. He threw the truck in park and then set his firm gaze on Hayes. “You’ve hated yourself more than anyone could for something that was never your fault. You’re not the only one who lost Laurel. I don’t blame you, and Maisie wouldn�
�t either. This is your pain. Your shit to get figured out.” His father pointed at him. “You might want to start figuring that shit out so you don’t go around punching drunk idiots because you’re keeping all this bad shit inside you.”

  Hayes arched an eyebrow. “Done?”

  Dad narrowed his eyes. “You’ve got one shot at life, buddy. Yeah, I see you’re wasting it, wallowing in your pain and punishing yourself, but unless you’re all in with Maisie”—he leaned in and pointed at Hayes again—“keep your hands off of her.”

  Hayes knew that, as much as his father thought the world of Laurel, he thought equally as highly of Maisie, maybe even more so, because of what Maisie had done for Hayes when he was at his lowest. And the Taylor men protected the women they cared about. “Yeah, got it.”

  The Colorado Springs beer festival held a different vibe than Fort Collins. The event was held outside in a large park, with each booth adding a little sparkle to gain attention across the dark night. Maisie had brought Edison string lights, and with the plants she’d picked up on the way, the Three Chicks Brewery booth looked romantic, chic and dreamy even, compared to the very masculine tents around her. She supposed that was her artist’s touch, to find beauty where there wasn’t any and showcase it.

  “You’re making everyone else look like they don’t know what they’re doing.”

  That low baritone of Hayes’s voice brushed over Maisie, causing her breath to hitch. She spun around and all but tackled Hayes, throwing her arms around him. “Oh, my God, you’re okay.”

  His warm chuckle hit her as he bent his head, bring his mouth against her neck. “I’m all right,” he told her, holding her close.

  Any worry that things might have been awkward when they saw each other instantly fled. They were good, she felt that in the strength of his arms locked around her. She held on, longer than she normally would. “What happened?” she asked, leaning away.

  He took her hand before she could move away, his fingers twining with hers. “Nothing much,” he explained. “Those cops were just throwing their weight around because that guy I punched was the lieutenant’s kid.”