That One Moment (Lost in London #2)

by Amy Daws

Her jaw shifts as she absorbs my outburst, but I can tell it’s not enough. Her eyes narrow in willful determination. “I need to understand your relationship with Leslie more, Hayden. It hurts me to see you confide in her over me!” she exclaims.

  “She stopped the blood!” I roar, billowing over top of my last shred of self-control. “The blood wasn’t just coming from my wrists, Vi. It was coming from my heart and my soul. I hurt everywhere, but Leslie was the one to put pressure on the wound and make it stop. She made it all stop.” Shocked at what I’ve just revealed, my hand grips Vi’s hip as a painful emotion bubbles up from somewhere deep and dark inside of me. “Leslie held my head in her lap and my life in her hands. That is something a person can never forget.”

  Tears slide down Vi’s face and my own screws up in pain over what I keep doing to her. God, I keep making her cry…over and fucking over again. But I need her to understand. I need her to keep looking at me. I take my hands and cup her cheeks, wiping away the tears as if that act alone can wipe away her pain.

  “I will always have a certain attachment to Leslie. She helped me understand reality. She saw into my soul that night so long ago. A place that I didn’t think anyone else could see…until you.” I look down to try and stifle the fear ripping through my body.

  Vi inhales a shaky breath and her head nods in my hands, forcing me to look up in shock at her approval. “I’m sorry, Hayden,” she croaks, her voice thick with emotion. “I can’t understand something like that, but I’ll try. That’s all I can do. I just wish…I wish I could have been there for you.”

  I exhale with relief and lift her chin with a gentle nudge of my knuckle. “You have no idea how much I wish the same thing. I’m the one who should be sorry. As much as I’ve shared with you, I struggle to share things that I still don’t fully understand myself.”

  She nods woodenly.

  “But the thing is,” I start, dropping a needful kiss to her forehead before pressing my own to hers, “I thought I already knew the reason why I was grateful that I hadn’t erased my life forever that night…until you. You, Vi…you make me want to fight even harder to be the man I want to be.”

  Her taut, emotional expression softens into a look of lust and desire. She grabs my neck and pulls me down to her lips. The relief. The absolute, ecstasy-encompassing relief I feel with her mouth on mine and the understanding that one simple act proves to my heart right now…is life-changing.

  “Take me home,” she whimpers against my lips, sliding her hands down to grip my biceps in her small grasp. “Take me home and show me how strong you are.”

  I release a husky laugh against her lips. It’s a laugh that makes everything inside of me lunge for her. Even with all this drama, all this fucked up confusion, she still doesn’t see me as broken. She’s just a woman who wants me to fuck her senseless right here. We’re still us…whatever we are. “Are you asking what I think you’re asking, Bunny?” I grin wickedly down at her, thinking about everything I could to do to her.

  She giggles. God, she fucking giggles.

  “Show me rude rabbit, pretty please.” Her eyebrows waggle at me suggestively.

  I’m instantly hard.

  The way this woman can look at me—a frail, weak, broken, and emotional fucking mess of a man—and still want me to take her home and have my way with her. Christ, if she’s not it for me…no one is.

  I stand behind Vi as she’s perched on the edge of her large, baroque-style bed. Her blonde hair cascades down her fresh, alabaster skin that is glowing in the dim evening light that pours in from the windows of her flat. Her posture is straight and perfect. Poised and ready for what I’m about to do to her. Vi takes direction really well, I think, smirking to myself as I crawl up behind her on the bed. She’s sitting completely naked except for her cobalt blue thong that I told her to leave on. I kneel behind her. My front to her back. I nudge my erection into her back, shrouded only in a pair of black boxer briefs. She shudders out a quick, shaky breath and it makes me smile. I reach around and stroke my fingertips from her breasts, up the front of her neck, and finally to her chin. I pull her mouth up to meet mine, her head thrown back as I tower over her.

  She gasps as I drop a soft kiss to her lips. The anticipation is killing her already. Fuck. This is going to be fun.

  “See these lips?” I whisper huskily against her mouth, dragging my thumb across them and watching hungrily as they plop back into place. “They’re mine. Every centimetre down to the little divot right here should only crave my lips. My taste. And my power. This lower lip…is for my teeth to sink into whenever I feel like it. Understand?”

  I nip at her bottom lip and she lets out a husky laugh, our breaths intermingling in a heady sexy exhale of happiness. “Yes,” she submissively agrees.

  I kiss her firmly, cementing my point before dragging the white scarf I found in her closet across her lap. I move it up her body and over her face, dropping it across her eyes as her face remains angled toward the chandelier above us.

  “I’m going to lay you back, Bunny. But it’s your job to hold this scarf across your eyes. We’re not tying it. This is your one job. Think you can manage?”

  She lets out a throaty giggle. “I’ll do my best, Sir.”

  I shake my head, grinning at her sass and mumble about her being a naughty bunny. I slide off the bed and push her back onto the mattress so her feet still remain on the floor. She reaches out and holds the white scarf to her eyes by gripping each side with her fists. She squirms nervously.

  I stand back and admire the scene before me. Perfect, pert breasts with the pinkest nipples I’ve ever seen. Creamy, smooth skin that dips in all the right places, and sexy sculpted legs that I can’t wait to have wrapped around my face in two seconds.

  The bed dips as I lean over her and take a nipple in my mouth. Her hand releases the scarf and cups the back of my head. “No, no, Bunny. Hold that scarf.”

  She groans out in frustration and I smile as her legs wrap around my upper body. I nip my teeth from her shoulder to her nipple. She’s greedily thrusting herself up toward me, her arse rising off the bed giving me just enough room to…

  Smack.

  Her lips part with a mighty groan as my palm connects with her arse, proving she was made for a rude rabbit like me. Growing impatient myself, I continue my nibble down her body until I reach her centre. She continues to squirm and writhe on the bed as I blow cool air all around her. I take my hand and push aside the strip of blue fabric that covers her. I exhale my hot breath right on her slickened nub. She moans out my name loudly. A deep throaty sound. I snap the thin strips of her thong on her hips before twizzling them down her legs and tossing them to the floor.

  I drop down onto my knees and grab her by her hips, yanking her to the edge of the bed so her thighs rest on my shoulders and her arse is suspended in the air for my greedy hands to fondle. Fuck, her arse, I think with a throaty growl. It’s the most magnificent arse I’ve ever seen. I inhale deeply before pressing my mouth happily to her vertical lips. A frenzy takes over as I taste her. Never in my life has a woman’s scent called to me like such a siren before. Her scent was fucking made for me. Like a starving man, I devour her with all the passion I feel for this sexy, beautiful, understanding, and surprising woman.

  Any time her hands stray from the blindfold, I give her pert bottom a punishing slap. I’m beginning to think she likes it based on the frequency of her disobedience. In a shorter time than I anticipated, her body hardens like a bullet as she hits her climax at an alarming velocity. She screams out my name and, just as quickly, her legs sag with relief.

  After a moment, she props herself up on her elbows and I chuckle proudly as she tosses the scarf at my face. My cock strains against my briefs as I take in her messy blonde hair that makes her look properly fucked. The pinks of her cheeks glow rosy and healthy. Her lazy smile, the perfect expression a man wants to see after he’s just properly serviced his most prized possession.

  “Well, what do you h
ave to say for yourself?” I ask, my smirk turning into a lustful gaze as I fantasise about how good it’s going to feel when I push myself inside of her.

  She smiles broadly. “If fighting with you gets me that, remind me to do it more often.”

  “And we’re just getting started.” I tenderly kiss the inside of her thigh and surprise her with a playful nip.

  Her giggles set the mood for our rousing round two in her shower that ended happily for both of us this time. It was the kind of fuck that would put even the sexiest pornos to shame. But it was better…because it was Vi. There’s no rules with her. Sexy and silly moments ebb and flow seamlessly, never once pulling us from the glorious moment.

  Now I lay once again, entangled in crushed velvet with a stunning Vi draped across my chest. I alternate twining the blonde strands of her hair between my fingers and trailing my fingertips up her bare spine while she plays with the cuff on my wrist—a custom I’ve noticed she enjoys doing. It took a great deal of effort on my part to allow her to do so at first, but now I can rest into it.

  “How do you see me so differently, Vi?” I ask, quietly staring up at the chandelier above her bed. At times I still can’t wrap my brain around how normal she makes me feel. How normal she looks at me despite my past.

  “What do you mean?” Her voice is soft and sleepy as she continues picking at the seam of my cuff without looking up at me.

  I squint my eyes and elaborate. “I look in the mirror and I see a broken, suicidal screw up with a laundry list of vices all working against him,” I quietly admit. “What do you see?”

  Her hand stills on my cuff and she turns to look up at me, propping her arms and head on my chest. Her blue eyes lock on mine for a long, painfully quiet moment. I stroke my fingers down her cheek as I wait on bated breath for her answer.

  Finally, she tilts her head and replies with a sigh, “I just see My Hayden.”

  THE RUSE

  “I think I’m ready,” I say to Bruce as I turn to walk out of my master bath. My jittery nerves could pipe down any time now. I smooth down my black cotton dress that’s smart and hopefully good enough for what Hayden and I are about to go do. After the family flick night drama, Hayden and my reconnection the last few days has been pretty mind-blowing. It’s a new level of intimacy that causes me to daydream about him all day at work. The only thing that’s bothered me is his continual insistence on stepping outside at 11:11 every night. I’ve given him his space to do so, but I have something planned for tomorrow that I hope he’ll be open-minded about and not take offense to. But I’m too scared to tell him what it is quite yet.

  As I walk out of my bedroom, I find Hayden stretched out on the sofa in my dark living room, staring up at the ceiling as if deep in thought. He looks like a damn model lying on a beach…except for the clothes part. But thankfully I have a very good memory of what he looks like naked, so my imagination can fill in the blanks.

  “You ready?” I ask as Sleeping at Last’s cover song “500 Miles” swells in the overhead sound system.

  He turns his head toward me and the look in his eyes makes me stumble. The grey irises swirling around his pupils heat with a longing that causes my smile to fall. The city lights streaming in the windows reveal a tenderness in his expression that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. He stands up slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, surprised by the trembling in my voice.

  “Dance with me,” he says, moving closer to me with his hand outstretched.

  “What? Here?” I look around stupidly like there are people here to feel embarrassed by.

  He nods slowly. “Right here…right now. I want a living room dance, Bunny.”

  A fleeting look of sadness streaks across his face, but it’s replaced by a half smile before I can be sure I even saw it. I swallow nervously as he twines his fingers through mine. His other hand slides gently around my waist, stopping at the small of my back. I place my free hand on his shoulder and he pulls me against him so our bodies are flush with each other.

  With the perfect measured strum of the acoustic guitar riff in the song, he begins moving us in a slow, gentle dance. We are barely rotating, but we’re swaying just enough to swirl the emotion of the music straight into my heart. The familiar scent of sawdust and Hayden invades my nostrils and I tuck my face into his chest, relishing in his entire aura that feels custom-created just for me. The song fills the room and our souls, touching us in every crease and crevice hidden to the rest of the world. In this moment…we are one.

  After a few more sways, he crouches over enough to press his cheek to mine. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers. His voice catches just as he tucks our clasped hands between our chests.

  My eyes prick with tears at the blatant display of vulnerability in his voice. “You too,” I reply because I am too electrified by him to think of anything more original. We’re shrouded in our own little cocoon of affection, and everything he says and does is unexpected in the most magical way.

  “You are a dream, Vi.” He nuzzles into my ear, inhaling deeply as he smells my hair and that spot just below my ear. He drops a soft kiss right there and says, “Every part of you feels like a dream.”

  I suck in a shaky breath, remaining silent as he continues to move us in calming sways. I swear I can feel his chest shuddering beneath mine, but I’m frozen in silence, my voice refusing to speak up. I have no words because this moment isn’t meant for filling with obligatory exchanged words. This moment is for listening and accepting whatever grey storm he’s got brewing in those stunning, cloudy eyes. He needs me right now and it makes my heart split down the centre completely, and I pray to God that Hayden Clarke will be the man to give me his other half. Two halves, making one whole.

  When the song ends, his hands are in my hair and his lips are pressed to mine, soft and sweet, passionate and meaningful. His demanding tongue caresses my own as his fingers rub along the back of my neck. Just when I think my legs are going to give out, he pulls away. My eyes flutter open with slow blinks. I feel lightheaded and dizzy as he rests his forehead to mine and says, “I’m ready.”

  Thirty minutes later, we’re standing in front of Welly’s Pub. I’m grateful for the quick walk over because I needed the fresh air to gain some of my senses back. Hayden’s expression is pensive. His introspective mood from earlier is somewhat lifted, but still, there’s something happening beyond his eyes that puzzles me.

  “You sure you’re ready for this?” I ask, glancing over at Hayden nervously.

  “I’m not afraid of your brothers, Vi.” He furrows his brows and pins me with a sobering look. “I’m afraid of you.”

  My face falls. “Hayden—” I start, but he pulls me through the door before I can finish. A familiar voice calls out, ripping my attention from my Hayden bubble.

  “Vi!” Tanner comes jogging over with a pint in hand. He tosses his head back to flick his shaggy blond locks out of his eyes. He passes his pint off to an unsuspecting Hayden so he can yank me into his arms for a brotherly hug. “Who’s this wanker?” he asks, laughing and snatching the pint back from Hayden.

  “Just kidding, mate. This one’s yours.” He tries to pass it back.

  I roll my eyes. “Hayden doesn’t drink, Tanner. I told you.”

  “Oh yes, that’s right. Vi hardly drinks either. One pint and she’s pissed. I don’t know what’s with people like you.” I reach out to give him a shove and he dodges me easily.

  Hayden laughs good-naturedly, but I’m cringing inside. “Hey, Booker!” I exclaim and smile sheepishly as he comes walking over. I swear his tall muscular frame seems to grow every time I see him. “This is Hayden.”

  Booker reaches out and shakes Hayden’s hand, his eyes narrow as he scans him up and down. He looks downright impolite which shocks me. This whole brotherly meet-and-greet was his idea. His demand, really. I had made the mistake of telling Booker that I was seeing Hayden, and he sussed it out that Hayden was the same guy I�
�d told him called me a “blonde distraction.” He said the only way he could be convinced Hayden isn’t a prat was to meet him himself. And there’s no such thing as one Harris brother. One goes, they all go.

  Hayden and I make our way over to the booth where Camden and Gareth are seated, while Booker heads to the bar for more drinks. Gareth is properly moody toward Hayden, which doesn’t surprise me. I’d warned Hayden of that. Camden is indifferent. And Tanner is Tanner…Nothing fazes him. Booker rejoins us and passes a beer to me and a water to Hayden.

  “Tell us how you two lovebirds met,” Tanner sings in a high-pitched feminine voice. Camden picks up where he left off with a flicker of his wrists and a happy clap. “Yes…and don’t leave out a single scrumpet of detail!”

  Hayden laughs and looks to me for an answer. “Well—” I start, but he cuts me off.

  “Her dog attacked me.” The pleased grin on his face as he eyes me with contempt makes me giggle.

  “That a boy, Bruce,” Gareth mumbles and takes a drink.

  “Bruce didn’t attack him…More like his leash attacked you,” I add, shoving Hayden in the side playfully. “We were going to a pub opening and sort of smacked into each other. The pub owners are friends with my coworker, Leslie. You guys know Leslie.”

  “Leslie is marrying my brother,” Hayden adds helpfully, and I briefly realise the wedding is next weekend and we haven’t discussed whether or not we’re going together.

  “Sounds like destiny,” Tanner sighs dramatically and flutters his lashes. We all laugh. Tanner’s always the clown.

  “And just like that…smooth sailing love story.” Booker states with an edge to his voice. “So, Hayden…what do you do? Like…for a living?”

  Hayden’s brows lift and a small smile plays on the corners of his mouth at Booker’s blatant challenge. Build-wise, Booker is maybe just a touch larger than Hayden, but they are very nearly evenly matched. “I am a partial owner of a custom furniture business with my brother. C. Designs? Theo’s the designer and creator. He’s got a pretty large following. I’m just the bookkeeper.”