Looks like I’m not the only one who’s self-conscious about spilling my guts. She’s hiding, and I’ll let her do it, but not for long.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” she reaches in and takes a drink from her almost empty bottle.
“You want another? I think I’m gonna have another. If you’re not driving, why not?”
She nods, and I realize maybe it’s as hard for her to admit her truth as it was for me to admit mine. Our truths are both vastly different, because I’m pretty fucking sure she hasn’t beaten the shit out of another human being, but it’s obvious our pasts have affected us greatly. Getting up, I jog to the back door of the shop, reaching inside the Yeti I keep there, I pull two more bottles out, before making my way back over to our fire. I have a seat again, using a stick to stir the burning embers.
“I was a lot like you,” she finally speaks. “My mom didn’t have a lot of money, and I lived on what everybody called the wrong side of the tracks. My dad split when I was young, so it was just me and my mom. I don’t even have any real memories of him, I’ve only seen a picture once. I grew up quick, and right out of high school, I’d gotten my first ‘big girl’ job. Ya know, the one where you have to buy actual work clothes. I bought my first heels, my first expensive lipstick, and I figured out how to fix my hair and cross my legs without showing my underwear. It was that kind of job. The first few months went by and no one really even knew I was there. I flew under the radar; no one knew my name, and I was good with that. Perfect, really, because then I had no expectations. I did my job and went home at night,” she looks off into the fire, pulling the strings on the hood, tightening it around her like a shield.
This must be her version of closing herself off, and while I hate she’s doing it, I understand. We all have memories and times of our lives which bring us to a vulnerable point in our lives. I can tell pretty easily this is hers.
“A couple months after I started, I was in the breakroom, grabbing coffee. I was bent over in the fridge, looking for the French vanilla creamer I’d been stealing for the last month, and when I came up, I bumped into him, spilling creamer all over his immaculate black shirt.”
I can see Hadley doing it, the flush of her cheeks, the little giggle that probably escaped as she tried to be serious and apologize. “Was he pissed?”
“No,” she shakes her head. “Phillip Westin III, laughed. It was so unexpected, I laughed, too. Even though I’d laughed at my blunder, at the same time I knew who he was and immediately scared to death I would be losing my job.”
She gets quiet, and starts picking at the nail polish on her fingers. I can’t tell by looking at her if these are good or sad memories. “We dated for six months,” she lifts her eyes up, showing me the tears that have gathered. This is obviously painful even if she’s for the most part put it behind her. “Within a week of him proposing we got married. It was all such a whirlwind, but with him being older, he kept assuring me he knew what he wanted,” she licks her lips and sighs heavily.
“Since I was younger, and I’d never in my life witnessed the opulence in which he lived, it was all like a fairytale for me. I had designer clothes, awesome shoes, and a nice car,” the whimsical smiles leaves her face. “Then reality set in. What had been so exciting became my worst nightmare as soon as a baby came into the mix.”
She’s quiet again, and I can almost see her gathering her thoughts.
“Things were good between us until I started talking about wanting a baby. It wasn’t something we talked about before we got married, and to not talk about it was stupid on both our parts. He didn’t want kids, and I did. When there was a snafu with my birth control and I ended up pregnant – it was the beginning of the end. He thought I trapped him, I thought he was a cold dickhead. However, I kept seeing glimpses of the man he’d been before Riley, and I knew he had the capacity to love her. Every once in a while, I’d see him look at her with a soft smile on his face, but it wouldn’t last long. He couldn’t get out of his own head and away from his day job long enough to form a bond with her. I was wrong about everything. It never happened, he’s never told our daughter he loves her,” she wipes under her eyes. “He stopped telling me too, but I kept holding out, hoping the man I’d fallen so in love with wasn’t a calculating bastard. But he became really controlling, especially with my emotions and affection, always wanting me to be the perfect trophy wife. The last three months before I filed for divorce were hell. When you withhold love and sex from someone as a bargaining tool, it’s the worst thing you can do. In the end, he made the decision for me; fucking his secretary was a hard limit for me. I don’t share.”
“Fuck,” I breathe, because I can’t believe someone wouldn’t celebrate Riley and wouldn’t want these two ladies in their life. I mean who would give them up?
“Yeah,” she lets out a deep breath. “The divorce crippled me, but I think it was mostly because I felt like a fucking failure. The thing that’s the biggest dig? I didn’t have the most stable childhood, and knowing I had a house to live in that I didn’t have to worry about meant everything to me. He made me sell that damn house, because he knew he could,” she clears her throat. “Making Riley’s room was my dream, you think what I do now is amazing? With the unlimited budget I had, her room was a castle. The night we put the house on the market, I had to re-paint it a neutral color. I cried the entire time. Not only were my dreams gone, but so was my self-esteem. I should have gotten the affection I craved. I should have been good enough to love, even if things didn’t work out the way he’d planned. It was my job to protect Riley, and I didn’t. She’s gonna carry that abandonment for the rest of her life.”
“Not if I can help it,” my voice is strong, because I truly believe in what I’m saying. “And what about you? You gave eight years of your life to a man, who took your love in his palm, flipped it over, and stomped it in the fucking ground. He shit on everything you gave him, he’s not worth feeling guilty over. If he doesn’t want Riley, don’t let her sweat it, let someone else who does in.”
What the fuck am I saying? There’s a noise in my head, cautioning me from making statements I can’t keep.
“Trick,” she smiles sweetly. “That’s nice, but neither one of us know where this going to go. You might decide in a week this isn’t what you want.”
“Or I might decide in a week this is what I want forever. Neither one of us can predict the future.”
She licks her lips and looks out at the fire before she turns those blue eyes back on me. “What I think is things have gotten heavy here tonight. We’re both emotional, and maybe we need to let things be what they will. We’ll make no promises, and we’ll see how it goes. In the end, we’ll figure out how to explain things to Riley if it doesn’t work.”
“You’re giving me an out,” I accuse her.
“No, I’m giving me an out this time.”
There’s a lot of things I want to say to her, but we’ve both probably said too much tonight. I think with Hadley, I’m going to have to show her. Words can only get me so far with her; actions are going to be the way in, and I’m good with that, because I’m a man of action.
“C’mon, let’s go upstairs, it’s been a long day,” I hold my hand out to her as I stand up.
The fire has died, only coals are left, and I realize how chilly it’s gotten as she stands and puts her hand in mine. Her fingers are like ice. “Jesus,” I grasp both her hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you were cold?”
“I didn’t know I was until I grabbed your hand.”
“Let’s go inside and warm up,” my voice is low, but I don’t want to seduce her, not tonight. Not after everything we’ve shared. I close my eyes, and try to turn that part of myself off, but all I really want is some damn affection.
Turning so that she walks up the stairs before me, Hadley gives a look over her shoulder. “Sounds good to me.”
19
Hadley
My knee shakes as I sit on the couch in Trick�
�s living room. The damn cat has taken the seat next to me and keeps looking up at me. I swear he’s taunting me. Five minutes ago, Trick asked me if I wanted to shower first, and when I said no, he went into the bathroom and shut the door. I can hear the water, and my imagination’s running wild.
I don’t want to have sex with him tonight, it’s too soon, but dear Jesus it’s been a long time for me, and the man is hot. Not to mention the emotional baggage we laid out for each other earlier. I just need some human contact. I need someone to hold me, I want to feel someone’s lips against mine, fingers digging into my flesh. I’m raw, and I don’t want to deal with the emotional fallout of my past by myself. I’ve been doing that for such a long fucking time. There’s a bottle of Jim Beam on Trick’s counter, a sign I should do what I’m thinking of doing.
Getting up, I march over to it, rip the top off, and take a fortifying drink. I haven’t been meek for a long time. I took my own business by the horns and I’m making it work. I’m raising my daughter on my own and I’m kicking ass at it. If I want this, I need to go after it, and I don’t need to let any of the insecurities prickling at the back of my brain stop me.
The shower is still on, but I have to wonder for how much longer. I’ve sat and stewed forever on what I want to do. Mind finally fucking made up, I start undressing as I make my way to the bathroom, and by the time I get to the door, I’m naked. My clothes are a trail of my thought process - a pile of them here and there. My hand shakes as I reach forward, turning the knob slowly. I’m half expecting it to be locked, but when the door opens, I know this is it. This is my sign. If it had been locked, I would have turned around, put my clothes back on, and probably ran home. Not now, not when everything points to this moment being it.
I can’t see his outline against the shower curtain because it’s a dark navy blue, made of heavy plastic. Taking a shot in the dark, I walk over, grasping the end and pulling it slightly back.
“Holy shit!” He jumps as he feels the curtain move.
It gives me enough room to climb in. I fight every instinct in my head screaming at me to cover myself, to not leave myself exposed. Finally, I feel calm enough that I can speak. “I can turn around, walk out of here, and pretend like this never happened if that’s what you want.” It’s not what I want, but I never again want to force my opinions and ideas on someone else. I want us to come to a mutually beneficial agreement.
When he doesn’t say anything for longer than I feel comfortable, I turn to leave.
“No,” his hand tightens around my bicep. “Don’t leave,” he shakes his head. “I just never expected you to be standing her like this. I dreamed it,” he smiles widely. “Literally, last night I dreamed it.”
“Seriously?” I can’t believe he’s been dreaming about me.
“Woke up with my dick in my hand, coming all over my stomach, if you want the absolute truth, Hadley.”
Wow. That escalated quickly and it wasn’t at all what I expected. I snap to attention because it occurs to me, for the first time, I get to see him. Really see him. He’s not covered up because we’re somewhere with Riley. Finally, I get to see all the parts he hides of himself from the world.
“Look your fill,” he pushes his hair back against the water streaming down from above him.
Doing just as he’s told me to do, I see exactly what Rebecca told me when she said he was gorgeous. He’s strong, lean, inked, and fucking beautiful. I’ve never seen him without a shirt on before, so I’m seeing the chest piece he sports, and it is magnificent. I’ve never really been the type to get into men because they have tattoos, but on Trick, it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Artwork covers his entire chest, sleeves cover his arms, but it’s the chest piece I keep coming back to. A skull on top of a lion. It accentuates the strength of his core, the strength of the man standing in front of me. My gaze slides down his body, following the path of the water.
“Like what you see?” he teases, his hazel eyes are hooded, darker than normal.
“I think the question I need to ask you, is do you like what you see?” I have stretch marks, I’ve never been completely comfortable with my body, and even though I’m in pretty good shape, I’m still self-conscious.
He steps forward, touching me. One hand curls around my hip, the other goes into my hair, and we’re touching. Our bodies are smashed together from top to bottom, I can feel the muscle of his stomach, and thighs against mine. My nipples peak as they rub against the hardness of his chest, and when I gaze up at him, he’s leaning towards me. Licking his lips, and moving in, because by God, we’re finally going to kiss. My fingers dent his biceps as I pull him closer to me, as I let myself melt into his strength.
“Fuck Hadley, if you don’t want this, you can tell me. Right now I can stop, but once I have a taste of you, I’ll know, and I won’t be able to go back. Last chance.”
His breath is hot on my face, and the steam from the shower is creeping around us, giving a feeling that we’re in a place where only the two of us exist. And I want to be here, with him, more than I’ve ever wanted to be anywhere in my life. “I want this. Please…I’m starving for you.”
The words are true - my mouth is watering, my body is aching, and my lips are tingling.
What I imagined would be a slow, sensual push, because that’s how Trick’s treated me this whole time – almost like he was afraid I would leave – is a collision of heat and lust. His fingers grip my hair, my fingers grip his flesh, and when our lips meet, I groan. It’s a surrender I hadn’t planned on, but one I’m glad to give. Immediately his tongue invades, sweeping against my mouth, branding me as his. I welcome it, crave the invasion as I grip him harder, trying to keep my knees from locking, and when I have to move my hands up to his neck, closing my arms tightly there, he lifts me. Opening to him, it’s no surprise we fit perfectly together as I wrap my legs around his waist. Threading my fingers through his hair, I pull roughly, wanting to climb inside, wanting him to wear my imprint too. Our teeth smash as he directs me which way to turn, but I try to take control. In the end, I give it up, and push my head back against the ceramic of the shower. When I tilt my neck, he attacks; biting, licking, sucking, and scratching. Nothing about Trick Tennyson is going to be sweet and soft. I wondered going in, but now I know for sure – he’ll own me, he’ll play me like an instrument, and he’ll leave me feeling more satisfied than I ever have in my life.
Fuck yeah, I’m so ready for the challenge.
Trick
I’ve had a lot of women in my life. Some of them I truly cared about, some of them were there for one night to keep my bed warm, or to make sure I wasn’t lonely for a few hours. None of them have made me breathless with the first kiss. Not one, and as I pull away from her neck, I’m panting like I’ve run a damn marathon.
She slips slightly against my hold, and I press my hand against the shower, tightening my other arm around her. “Goddamn, woman,” I breathe deeply, her scent rushing through my pleasure receptors. I love this scent, it’s everything she is. Coconut with a hint of spice. I’ve never thought of a more accurate description of the woman I’m holding in my arms right now. And knowing she came to me? Fuck, that does everything to me, makes me feel like I’m fucking bulletproof.
Picking her up against me, I turn around to cut the water off. If I’m going to do this with her, it’s going to be somewhere I’m not scared I’m gonna break a bone or pull a muscle. Letting go of her neck has opened mine up to her, and she’s marking me much like I marked her. Using my palm, I nudge her closer to my neck, letting her know I’m loving what she’s doing to me. Thank God my apartment’s small, and we don’t have to go far. I kick the door shut, hoping to keep Alfred, or Tux, or what-the-fuck-ever you want to call him out, and set her down on the bed.
Hadley is a fucking hot woman; she’s got the girl-next-door appeal with the sexiest bedroom eyes I’ve ever seen. When she gazes up at you, the blue gets deeper, and it makes you want to figure out what the fuck she’s thinkin
g. “You good?” I ask, because I want to make sure I’m not putting her in a situation she doesn’t want to be in.
Getting up on her knees, she gazes back at me, meeting my stare with one of her own. “I know you don’t do promises, but promise me this doesn’t change how you feel about Riley.”
She’s killing me here. Taking my heart out and stomping on it, for her to think this would make me pull away from her daughter. But then I have to remember where she’s coming from, the man who left her, and why she’s even in my life, in the first place.
“None of this changes anything with her,” I put my hand over my heart. “No matter what happens between us, that’s the one thing I can promise you. I won’t punish her; I won’t put her in the middle.” I’m about to really put myself out there with my next words. “You promise me the same thing.”
“Without a doubt,” her voice is quick to match mine. “I don’t want her hurt again, and I’ll be damned if I’m the one doing it.”
“Anything else we need to get out there?” I ask, wanting to make sure we’re on the same page.
“No sex tonight,” her voice is small, but strong as she speaks.
A little piece of my manhood shrivels up and dies, but I can understand where she’s coming from. “We can do other stuff though, right? Cause that kiss?” I groan, throwing my head back as I let my hand drop to my hard cock, palming it, offering it a little bit of relief.
“Yeah,” she licks her lips as she watches me. “I’m just not ready for that yet. I’m not on birth control, and…”
I cut her off. “You don’t have to explain shit to me. All I have to know is sex is going to happen.”
“It’s most definitely going to happen,” she moves on the bed, towards me. “C’mere,” she crooks her finger.
I like this playful side of her, the side I’ve never gotten to see before. “Hadley,” I cup her cheeks as I stand in front of her. “What do you want?”
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