by Tessa Bailey
Brent waited for a moment, to see if he could hear anything on the other side of the door, but only silence greeted him. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off. Couldn’t focus on anything but getting through to her. “What do I need to do, baby? Do you want me to sing ‘Wind Beneath My Wings’? I’ll do it. I’ll deafen everyone in this building if that’s what you want.” When the silence remained, Brent’s head dropped against the door with a curse. “You’re really going to make me do this, aren’t you?”
Then he gave Bette Midler a run for her money.
…
Hayden stood stock-still, flanked by her mother and father, watching in fascination as Brent belted out the Beaches classic at the city clerk’s door. The one she’d ran out of five minutes ago. Halfway through his impassioned speech, from which her pulse still raced like crazy, the security guard had relented and stepped forward to unlock the door. Matt, however, finally noticing her standing ten yards away, had held him off with a look, allowing her to stand there while Brent poured his heart out.
Seconds after Story’s needless, yet effective, intervention, her father had come bursting through the chamber door. He’d actually managed to pull off a deal with a foreign investor to keep the company afloat. Her mother, realizing Hayden’s marriage to Stuart was now unnecessary, had fessed up to her father and told him about Hayden’s plan for the afternoon. Thank goodness she’d already decided not to marry Stuart or they might have been too late with the news. And she would be hearing this perfectly, beautifully, uniquely Brent speech from the wrong side of the door.
Her heart thumped so hard, she put her hands on her chest as though she could keep it from bursting free. This rough-edged, dirty-talking, wisecracking giant was singing to her as though his life depended on it and she’d almost given up the chance to be with him. Relief, powerful and encompassing, rolled through her in waves, accompanied by regret. If she’d believed for one minute that Brent had married someone else, she’d be devastated. Hayden could only imagine how he felt at that moment, thinking she’d discarded him without a word. Guilt poked holes in her relief. She needed his arms around her. It’s the only thing that would calm the riot of emotions. Reassure her that she’d avoided catastrophe.
“Brent.” Her voice came out sounding like a croak, so she tried again. “Brent.”
He spun around, eyes moving over her in a panic. “Oh God. I’m too late,” he said dazedly, then slumped hard against the door.
Pain twisted in her chest, her throat constricted. “No, you’re not too late. I couldn’t do it.”
Brent’s head jerked up. He looked as though he wanted to believe her, but was unable to see past his fear just yet. “Why? Why couldn’t you do it?”
“You know why,” Hayden whispered.
“I just sang the theme song from Beaches. Tell me anyway.”
She swallowed hard, words eluding her. Nothing she said could compare to the heartfelt speech he’d delivered moments before. So she closed her eyes and spoke from the heart. “I want you to leave your socks on my floor.” A breath shuddered out. “Not on Beth or Betsy or Becky’s floor. I want you to teach me how to grill. That’s something you do, right? In parking lots before sporting events or…or something?” She shook her head, knowing she rambled. “I want to…I want to be the one who worries about you. When you’re at work. I want to zone out while you talk about baseball.”
When she opened her eyes, Brent stood right in front of her, throat working with emotion. “Duchess—”
She rushed to finish before his nearness overwhelmed her. “I know the money bothers you, but I can’t do anything about it. It’s not who I am, though. Just try and remember that.”
“Baby—”
“I don’t care if freckle-faced Betsy is better for you, either. She can’t have you.”
“Woman, would you let me speak?” He clasped her face in his hands. “I want everything that comes along with you. All of it. And I don’t know who the hell Betsy is, nor do I care. I only leave my socks on your floor. You’re the only one who will ever have the right to worry about me. Or start an argument with me before breakfast.” He ran a thumb across her bottom lip. “But I’m not letting you near the grill, darlin’. That there’s a man’s job.”
Hayden launched herself into his arms with a laugh. Everything in the world felt right again when he wrapped them around her and swayed on his feet. She pressed her face against his strong neck. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t think I had a choice.”
“You did. You made the right one.” He pulled back to kiss her forehead, her cheeks. “The two of us can figure this out. I won’t let you be sorry for choosing me.”
She couldn’t speak for a moment as she regarded the man in front of her. He would do it, too. Help her support her family without a word of complaint. This goofy, loving, incomparable man. “I could never be sorry for that.” She nodded toward her father. “But fortunately that won’t be the case. Dad came through in the clutch.”
Her father’s eyes sparkled as he stepped forward to shake Brent’s hand, Hayden’s mother at his side, arms crossed. “I was coming here to stop a wedding. Turns out I didn’t need to. She ran out of there like a bat out of hell.”
Brent squeezed her to his side and smiled at her mother. “Mrs. Winstead.”
“Mother, do you have something you’d like to tell Brent?”
Primly, she raised her chin. “I apologized already to Hayden for going behind her back to pay your sister’s tuition. I don’t see why I have to do it twice.”
Brent flinched at her mother’s words and pulled her closer. “I’m an asshole for assuming. Working on it,” he whispered in her ear.
“Mother,” Hayden prompted.
“Oh all right. My apologies.” She perused her nails. “I won’t pretend I’m heartbroken over losing Stuart as a son-on-law. Bit of an ass, isn’t he?”
Laughing, they both started to respond, when Daniel snagged their attention. “I’m sorry to interrupt. Where is Story?”
Hayden disengaged from Brent’s side and laid a gentle hand on Daniel’s arm. “Now I don’t want you to overreact—”
As if on cue, two security guards emerged from the office behind Daniel, flanking a handcuffed Story. Daniel froze, face losing all color. “What the hell is going on here?”
“She flashed the city clerk,” the guard explained, looking bored.
“What?”
Story winced at his tone. “You told me to stall,” she called over her shoulder as they dragged her down the hallway. “Don’t tell my dad, okay?”
After a moment of stunned disbelief, Daniel ran after them. “Hey! Uncuff her! That’s my girlfriend.”
“Fiancé, Daniel.”
They disappeared around the corner. Matt followed after them muttering something about needing to find new friends. Hayden, knowing Daniel would never let Story get taken away in a police car, finally relaxed. The minutes before Brent arrived had been spent haggling with the guards and calling her parents’ various lawyer friends on Story’s behalf.
She took Brent’s arm and pulled him aside. Her parents seemed to sense they wanted some privacy and followed in their friends’ wake. They were finally alone.
“Aren’t you going to—”
“Yes,” Brent growled, capturing Hayden’s mouth with his own. Her lips parted on a gasp and his tongue swept inside, possessing her. Reminding them both that she belonged to him. Reminding her who made her body weak and strong at the same time. She sensed that after the morning they’d had, he needed reassurance, and was only too happy to provide it. His hands cupped her elbows to drag her up against him. When he leaned in to reclaim her mouth a second time, she pulled back just a little, then took control of the kiss. A reminder that he belonged to her, too. She buried her fingers in his hair and slanted her mouth over his, again and again, until he broke away with a choked sound.
“I’m in charge every night for the next week. No exceptions.”
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Hayden nipped at his chin. “I’m going to make you work for it.”
He caught her up in his arms, long strides carrying them toward the exit. “Woman, I’m counting on it.”
Epilogue
Brent looked up from the explosives and demolitions handbook he’d been studying, smiling when he heard Hayden’s keys jingle outside the front door of her town house. Knowing she expected him to be waiting on the other side filled him with a now-familiar sense of calm. The way they’d come to depend on each other, trust each other, never failed to humble him. Every night she walked through the front door, searching for him with those beautiful eyes, felt like the first time. But he wanted tonight to be special.
She walked in a second later, looking polished and professional in her black skirt and heels. Stockings, as well. Always the damn stockings. Six months earlier, she’d gone to work for her father’s firm, reinvigorating the charity branch with a determination he’d come to expect and admire in her. Turns out, his girl was a straight-up shark, bringing in donors left and right, not only for the Clear Air program, but new charities she’d initiated in the company name. Those nights, when she came over, all flushed with pleasure after landing a new sizable donation…God, he looked forward to those nights. He looked forward to every night with her, but being the recipient of all that passion humbled him. In addition to turning him on like nobody’s business.
Yes, she might dress the part of a corporate player, but he knew the girl just beneath the cool surface. The girl who made him laugh, surprised him every day…the girl who kept him awake at night thinking of ways to make her happy. They spent most evenings at his place in Queens. She’d become a permanent fixture at dinner and on the weekends. He’d started dropping hints months ago that he wanted her there permanently. First, he’d given her keys, with a mini high-heel keychain. Then he’d asked for Laurie’s help redecorating to make the house more “chick-friendly.” Not only for Hayden, but because his sister Lucy was due home in a week from graduate school. Finally, he’d asked Hayden one night as they were cooking dinner and she’d promised to think about it.
When he’d arrived at her place tonight, he’d seen the appraisal of her town house from the Realtor pinned to her refrigerator. Her simple but effective way of telling him yes. He’d been thankful to be alone in that moment. No sense in letting her know what a sap he turned into.
Until now, her town house had been mostly reserved for hot, stolen lunch hours when they could both swing it. That’s when, thanks to their new appreciation for role-play, things tended to get kinky. His pulse tripped over itself in anticipation. He’d come to her place tonight since she’d been forced to work through her lunch hour today. He was simply too impatient to wait the forty-five minutes it took her to get to Queens.
Their eyes met across the living room and he watched Hayden go soft, her body relax, as she saw him, making his heart pound even harder. True to her word, she worried about him. At first, he’d thought it unnecessary, but damn if he didn’t love the way she breathed a sigh of relief every day when she saw him. She set her briefcase down on the kitchen table and removed her jacket. When she started toward him, he shook his head.
“Uh-uh. Stay right there.”
Brent had the pleasure of watching awareness leap into her gaze, her chest rising and falling with soft breaths as she watched him approach. When he slipped the handcuffs from his pocket and let them dangle between them, she wet her lips, eyes seeming to momentarily lose focus. He loved having that effect on her. “What did I do, Officer?”
“I’ll tell you when I’m damn well ready.” The second he had her within reaching distance, he spun her around until she faced the table. Then in a move guaranteed make her damp, he reached beneath the hem of her skirt and shoved her knees wide. Without an ounce of gentleness. Slapping the cuffs onto her wrists, he savored her aroused whimper, letting it go to his head and elevate him to that incredible place only Hayden could. He leaned over her back to breathe his words against her ear. “Did you really have to work through lunch? Or did you just want to make me wait? Make me suffer?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His deep laugh coincided with her shiver. “Oh no?” Brent curled his fingers under the material of her skirt and dragged it up slowly, over her smooth ass, unable to wait a second longer to reveal her sexy backside. He pushed her upper body forward until her cheek rested on the table and he could savor the sight of her bent over in front of him. Beautiful flesh greeted him at the tops of her stockings; the swath of black material running between her thighs caused his erection to press painfully against his zipper. He held her still, looking his fill until she started to writhe, then he unzipped his pants with one hand, communicating with a tightening of his hold that she wasn’t to move. When he’d finally freed himself with a relieved groan, he ran a knuckle up the center of her panties.
“I don’t mind waiting for it, baby. In fact, I love it.” He tugged her panties down her legs. “It means you want to be fucked twice as hard.”
“Yes,” she moaned. “Please, Officer. As hard as you can.”
Brent began to sweat. Jesus, she knew exactly what to say to make him crazed to be inside her. Still, as much as he loved the game, he wanted to see his Hayden. Needed to connect with her in that indescribable way. Especially tonight.
He gently turned her around and planted her ass on the kitchen table. Looking her in the eye, watching her read his mind, he sank two fingers deep inside her.
She sucked in a breath. “Hello to you, too.”
His mouth took hers in a long, wet kiss, rife with promises. “I’m feeling a little impatient, duchess,” he said against her mouth. “Are you wet enough or do you want my tongue?”
In response, she parted her thighs in welcome, her hot gaze on his arousal, as if imagining how she would touch him if her hands were free. But they weren’t. Which turned them both on even more. Brent yanked her closer to the edge of the table, not bothering to settle between her legs, but rocking against her as soon as he made contact. Automatically they circled his waist and squeezed, urging him to move faster. Their moans echoed in the silent room. “You’re impatient, too. I feel your thighs shaking around my hips already.”
“Maybe I’m cold.”
“You’re never anything but fucking hot.”
Hayden’s mouth beckoned to him, begging for a long, wet kiss. Brent accommodated her, groaning as her high heels dug into the flesh of his ass as he worked himself against her core. “Aren’t you going to ask me about my day?” she asked breathlessly. He mumbled an incoherent response into her mouth. “I landed a new account at work. You know what that means.”
Brent pulled back, his lips curling into a smile. He watched her closely, loving the way her mouth parted in pleasure as he picked her up off the table and sank back onto a dining room chair. When the position drove him even deeper, they both moaned, Hayden beginning to roll her hips immediately. Knowing he was seconds from being ridden hard and rendered speechless, Brent took one last pull off her mouth and said the words that had been racing through his head for weeks. “Hayden.” He waited until her eyes focused on him. “Marry me, baby.”
For a moment that seemed to stretch for eternity, she looked stunned and out of breath. “You wait until I’m cuffed to propose?”
He ran unsteady hands up her smooth thighs. “When have we ever done anything the conventional way?”
“Never. Thank God.” The corners of her lips edged up, hips beginning to move once more in a devastating rhythm. “Now ask me again. Nicely.”
He surged up from the chair, and Hayden’s gasp of surprise tasted sweet on his tongue as he strode toward the bedroom. “You forgot who’s wearing the cuffs, duchess.”
Find out where it all began in
Protecting What’s His
the first book in the Line of Duty series
She’s running from the law, and the law wants her bad.
The op
portunity was just too damn delicious for Ginger Peet to pass up. The purse full of money she finds—$50,000 to be exact—could give her and her teen sister the new start they need. So she grabs the cash, her gothy sibling, and their life-sized statue of Dolly Parton, and blows outta Nashville in a cloud of dust. Chicago, here we come…
Turns out, Chicago has some pretty hot cops. Hot, intense, naughty-lookin’ cops like Derek Tyler, who looks like he could eat a girl up and leave her begging for more. And more. Tempting as he is, getting involved with the sexy homicide lieutenant next door poses a teensy problem for a gal who’s on the lam. But one thing is certain—Derek’s onto her, and he wants more than just a taste.
And as far as he’s concerned, possession is nine-tenths of the law.
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And when you’re ready for more, grab
His Risk to Take
the second story in the Line of Duty series by Tessa Bailey
The greater the risk, the hotter the reward…
Homicide cop Troy Bennett had a reputation with the Chicago PD for being fearless and in control—until the night his daredevil partner is killed during a raid. From that moment on, he swears he’ll never again be responsible for the loss of a loved one. To escape his demons, Troy transfers to the NYPD, bringing him up close and personal with Ruby Elliott, a beautiful, street-savvy pool hustler.
Reckless and stubbornly independent, Ruby embodies everything Troy’s avoiding, but when she walks into the pub he’s at with his new coworkers and blows his carefully laid plans to hell, Troy knows he has to have her—risks be damned. But there’s a connection between Ruby’s shadowed past and a case Troy’s working involving a notorious Brooklyn felon, throwing her safety into jeopardy. Confronted with his biggest fear, will Troy push Ruby away to keep her safe or fight to keep her in his arms where she belongs?