Asking for Trouble

by Tessa Bailey

  A brief flicker of humor shone in her eyes before she hid it. “No, it’s a buddy cop movie. You would love it. Action-packed. Definitely no singing.”

  Brent nodded, pretending to take her seriously. “I’ll add it to my Netflix queue.” Unable to help himself, he took her hand. “And if you come over and watch it with me, I promise not to sing along to ‘Wind Beneath My Wings.’”

  Her momentary pause over his impulsive hand-holding turned into surprised laugher. The kind that made his chest tighten. “You’re so lucky your boys weren’t here to hear that.”

  “Who do you think performs duets with me?”

  She pursed her lips. “Normally I would say Daniel, but Matt could be a potential dark horse.”

  Kind of like him and Hayden. For so long, they thought they had each other pegged, but it turned out they hadn’t even scratched the surface. She’d never seen it coming. “So Beaches…a classic piece of cinema, but a weird thing to think about while witnessing a marriage proposal.”

  She glanced sideways at him, then sighed. “I guess I was trying to remember the last time I cried.”

  Brent held his breath, afraid he’d open his mouth and some boneheaded comment would emerge, ruining this rare glimpse under her surface.

  “I’d just gotten my tonsils taken out and I was too doped up to get out of bed and find the remote,” she said. “Beaches came on. Complete with commercial interruptions. I was helpless to escape it.”

  Brent laughed. “How old were you?”

  “Fifteen.”

  He pulled her to a stop. “You haven’t cried in a decade?” She looked uncomfortable and he wanted to take back his shocked question. “Wait. What about chopping onions? That counts.”

  Her mouth relaxed into a smile. “Then I guess it’s only been a few weeks. Bette Midler and onions are my Kryptonite. What’s yours?”

  I think it might be you. He swallowed. “Sports movies. When the underdog comes back after halftime to win. I can’t keep it together during the coach’s obligatory halftime speech and then it’s a rapid decline into wuss-hood.” He thought for a moment. “Also, brownies. My mother’s, specifically.”

  “Brownies.”

  He nodded once. “Don’t judge me until you’ve had one.”

  They walked for a while after that, until he pulled her to a stop at the wooden rail so they could watch the ocean, illuminated by the neon signs behind them. Their arms touched and he barely resisted the urge to pull her close. Too much too soon. “What’s it like having your parents in the same neighborhood?” he asked instead.

  “Exhausting.”

  Brent watched as she turned serious, then considered him closely for a moment as though she couldn’t decide why she’d suddenly decided to be honest with him. He couldn’t decide either. Only knew he wanted her to keep going.

  “They’re my parents, they’ve done everything for me. But…it’s complicated.”

  Silently, he waited for her to say more. When she didn’t, he prodded her. “Talk to me, Hayden.”

  She rubbed her arms, the breeze having turned cold. Brent gave in to his impulse and pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on top of her head. He couldn’t ignore the way they fit together. How right it felt. “My father, the man you charmed so effortlessly the other night, is actually my uncle. My father died when I was young, leaving me with my mother. She was young, far too young for a child, and they’d never bothered to get married. So my uncle took us in.” She laughed into his chest. “I have no idea why I’m telling you this.”

  “I don’t either,” he said, hiding his shock over her revelation. “But I’m glad you are.”

  “Okay. That’s good enough for me.” Slowly, her arms went around his waist. Brent closed his eyes against the foreign emotions bubbling in his chest. He sensed Hayden wanted to say more so once again, he reined in his need to fill the silence with whatever nonsense popped into his head. “He didn’t have to take us in. I kind of owe him for everything, you know? Even if sometimes it means I have to do things that are…difficult.”

  Brent looked down at the top of her head, confused by her cryptic tone. He had the overwhelming feeling that she was trying to tell him something, but he couldn’t decipher it. Don’t push too hard or she’ll shut down. Still, he needed to say what was on his mind. “You don’t owe him. Look what he got out of the deal. A beautiful daughter who runs around making everyone else happy. If you ask me, he owes you.”

  She stilled in his arms, looking up at him after a moment. “I wish it worked that way. It’s not always that simple.”

  “Yes, it is.” He couldn’t account for the frisson of panic over the finality of her tone. What am I missing? “I say it is that easy for someone like you. And I’m not talking about the money. I’m talking about you.”

  After a moment of staring up into his face thoughtfully, she brightened, although he could tell it took an effort on her part. “So…two jobs. One that includes the dismantling and rigging of explosives. A mortgage. Your sister’s college tuition. Supporting your brother’s family. I say you don’t know the first thing about easy, Mr. Mason.”

  Oh boy, he liked her calling him that. Brent stiffened behind his fly. Ignore it. You’re having an actual meaningful conversation with her. He also couldn’t deny a flare of pleasure that she recognized his hard work. He’d never needed the recognition before, but his inner caveman had decided to make another appearance. That’s right, I take care of what’s mine. I’ll take care of you, too. Let me. Oh God, let me.

  He kicked the caveman in the nuts and refocused on her. Downplayed his situation like he always did. “Yeah. Well, my brother will be home soon from overseas…and Lucy, she won’t be in college forever. The mechanic gig is temporary.”

  “Don’t make light of it.” Hayden shook her head. “I’m sorry I ever did.”

  “An apology from the duchess? Now who’s going soft?”

  She bit her lip and ran her hands down his chest. He promptly forgot what he’d been saying. “I’ll tell you a secret in addition to my apology. That day at the garage…I would have let you have me on that desk. It would have taken very little effort. You came out looking so”—her nails scraped over his nipples—“rugged. I wanted to rip those coveralls off of you.”

  “What did I tell you about speaking to me this way in public?”

  When she laughed, he knew he didn’t quite pull off his warning tone. “So? What are you going to do about it?”

  He growled low in his throat. “If you pretend for even a second that you’re not staying in my room tonight, there’s going to be trouble in Atlantic City.”

  “Ooh. I like trouble.”

  Before the words were completely out of her mouth, Brent hauled her over his shoulder. Hayden gasped, then couldn’t stop laughing as they walked down the empty boardwalk.

  “You want trouble?” He smacked her ass. “You’ve got it, duchess.”

  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.