by Teague, AS
The Hardest Hit
A.S. Teague
The Hardest Hit
Copyright © 2019 A.S. TeagueAll rights reserved. No part of this novel may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted without written permission from the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. If you would like to share this book with others please purchase a copy for each person. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
The Hardest Hit is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and occurrences are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, events, or locations is purely coincidental.
Cover Design: Simply Defined Art
Editing: Diamond in the Rough Editing
Proofreading: Deaton Author Services
Contents
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Epilogue
Also by A.S. Teague
The Hardest Route
When You Became Mine
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Dedication
For Elaine
May 27, 1947-April 1, 2019
The last email you sent me was 3/21/19 and said “Daniel says you released your new book. Congratulations and keep on writing.”
Well, I did keep on writing. I wrote this story, with Audrey lighting my desk, your beautiful bookcase in my office and your Daddy’s bookshelf holding my books.
We miss you. I miss you. I hope you’re sitting on the beach right now, reading my books and skipping over the dirty parts.
Love you.
“Gone from my sight. That is all.”-Henry Van Dyke/Luther Beecher
Prologue
Mel
Las Vegas.
Sin City.
The place where you went to lose your money and your inhibitions.
I didn’t have many inhibitions to begin with, but this trip to celebrate the dreaded 3-0 meant that we were throwing them all out the window.
My best friend, Brooke, hadn’t been sold on this trip from the start, but I was determined to send my twenties out in style. Especially after working my ass off to land my dream job and then having it nearly snatched away because of someone else’s greed.
It was now our last night in Vegas. Don’t get me wrong, we’d had an amazing time. But we’d come to have the time of our lives. So, I’d convinced my best friend to don a dress that barely covered her ass, while I’d slipped into a dress that was equally as form fitting myself, and together, we’d headed down to the casino of our hotel to play some poker and hopefully get lucky in more ways than one.
And it looked like the Vegas luck that I was hoping for was coming through after all.
I saw him the minute we sat down. The dealer hadn’t even given us our chips before I felt my pulse quicken. He was tall and the muscles on his arms strained against the fabric of his black button-down, rolled up at the elbow. His short brown hair was light, teetering on the edge between blond and brown, and styled to perfection in a way that made it known he cared about the way he looked. Given the way my mouth watered as I watched him from across the room, his time getting ready that night had been well spent.
His full lips pursed, and he blew on the dice, giving them a shake in his large hand before throwing them down the table. I held my breath along with him. Partly waiting to see if his numbers came up. Partly because the breath was frozen in my lungs.
Sweet Lord, the man was gorgeous.
As if he sensed me, he looked up, his eyes coming straight to mine as his friends yelled, celebrating his obvious win. He didn’t smile. He didn’t shout in victory. He just stared at me. His gaze hanging on mine for a long second until I had to fight the urge to squirm.
I was not a woman who squirmed under the scrutiny of a man.
Not until this man anyway.
Earlier tonight, I’d given Brooke a hard time about the last time she’d gotten laid, but the truth of the matter was, it had been way too long for me too. I wasn’t in the business of sleeping with random men, but my life was too busy and complicated for anything more than the occasional fling. It was well past time to break the dry spell.
And when his lips curled into a sexy grin and he shot me a wink, it sealed the deal: I’d be spending my last night in Vegas under that man.
For over a half hour, cards were dealt, hands were played, and money was lost. But through it all, that sexy fucking grin never left his face as he continued to watch me from across the room.
My mind swirled as I tried to figure out how I could justify abandoning my girl on our last night. She probably would have been more than happy to head back to the room alone and catch up on some work that I knew she had snuck into her bag before we left. But I didn’t feel right about leaving her alone… no matter how hot Mr. Eye-Fuck may have been. Thankfully, Lady Luck was on my side once again, because as I tore my gaze away from my guy long enough to check my cards, I caught sight of his friend watching Brooke so intently it was as though he was afraid she was going to disappear.
Jackpot!
“Fine. I won’t argue anymore.” Brooke finally relented to letting me loan her more money so that we didn’t have to leave so early.
But suddenly, leaving didn’t sound like such a bad idea.
My face split into a grin, and I swayed toward her, whispering, “That’s my girl. Now, don’t be obvious, but there is a fuckin hottie at the table across from us who has been eyeing you since we sat down.”
I didn’t mention that I only knew he’d been eyeing her because I’d been having some serious visual foreplay with his buddy.
Brooke looked to the craps table where five men were cheering every time their numbers hit, clapping each other on the back and whooping. Her jaw dropped and I giggled.
After a full thirty seconds of her staring open-mouthed across the smoky area, she blinked and I hissed, “Yessssss.”
“I… um… think he’s looking at you.”
“Pshhhh.” I elbowed her and glanced back over to where both men had stopped what they were doing and were watching us almost expectantly. “That’s all you, girl. The guy beside him is a different story. Mister Dreamy over there, though, only has eyes for Brooke.”
“Who’s Brooke?” she whispered.
I couldn’t stop the sharp burst of laughter that erupted from my lips, and she grabbed her wine glass and drained it in one swallow.
I grabbed my own and followed her lead. Game on!
“Shit, I think I just had an out-of-body experience,” she whispered.
I scooped up my pile of chips and dumped them into my clutch. “Hopefully, you’ll have another one late
r tonight. Let’s go talk to them.”
“No, no, no,” Brooke objected as I dragged her by the arm to the group of guys. “Mel, stop. We can’t just…”
I gave her a gentle shove and she teetered on her heels, careening right into the back of the guy who had been watching her. And when he turned, I knew that my work there was done.
It was time to go take care of my own business.
“See something you like?” I asked, stopping in front of my date for the evening, whether he knew it or not.
He leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “I’ve never seen anything so breathtaking in my life.”
I tipped my head back to look at him, a response frozen in my throat.
The side of his mouth hitched as he stared down at me, his thick lashes giving a spectacular show.
I braced for what he was going to say next. Sexy as he was, I still needed him to have a personality, or it would never work… not even for a one-night stand.
He wedged a hand in the pocket of his jeans and murmured, “That took you long enough. I was worried I’d lost my charm and I was going to have to summon a smoke signal in order to ask you out.”
My brows shot up and a smile curled my lips. “Walking over to me probably would have been easier.”
“Maybe. But then I would have missed the view of those sexy legs as they carried you over here.” He leaned in close. Not touching me physically, but his proximity was a tangible caress of its own. “Trust me when I tell you, it was well worth the wait.”
My breath hitched as he leaned away, that seductive grin still firmly in place.
“I’m Aiden. And you are?”
Whoever the hell you want me to be.
“Mel. Er… Melanie. Whatever. I answer to both.”
He nodded, his gaze dropping to my mouth. “Nice to meet you, Mel.”
That was the exact moment I realized that I’d been wrong. It wasn’t Lady Luck who had been on my side. For the way my entire body was heating, this man had to have been the work of the devil himself.
And I was completely okay with that.
* * *
“You’re so full of shit!” I teased as I elbowed him in the ribs.
He shook his head, his blue eyes sparkling. “Hand over heart,”—he does the motion—“swear to God, that really happened.”
I threw my head back, my hair brushing across his other arm that’s wrapped around my shoulders, and dissolved into a fit of laughter.
After Brooke had taken off for a “walk” with the sexy guy who’d been eyeing her, I’d convinced my own sex god to abandon his friends for a drink back in his suite.
I’d learned that his name was Aiden, he was in Vegas to celebrate a huge accomplishment along with his buddies, his best friend was Griff, the guy who Brooke had left with, and the other huge men he’d been shooting craps with were his college football teammates, Quinn, Shane, and Trav.
The five of them had played for Oklahoma State and had all but Trav got drafted in the NFL just the previous week.
“You mean to tell me that you and Quinn went streaking across campus and only avoided being arrested because the officer had money on your game for the next day, and you want me to believe you?”
I’m sure that half of the stuff we’d talked about tonight had been complete bullshit, but I could not care less. Aiden Shaw was more than just a sexy-as-sin up-and-coming quarterback star.
He was also a smooth talker.
And a damn good kisser.
And funny. Dear Lord, the man was funny.
I hadn’t laughed as much as I had tonight in the last two years. It was exactly what I needed. Well, it was almost exactly what I needed.
“I’ll be happy to call Quinn if you don’t believe me.” He reached for his phone, but I slapped his hand away.
“You really want to invite one of your boys up here to prove that your story is real?”
His hand froze in mid-air, and then he leaned back. “You have got to be the smartest woman I have ever met in my life.”
I smirked. “Smartest and most gorgeous, right?”
He licked his lips and grinned. “Eight out of ten.”
I quirked a brow. “Eight? And here I was thinking that you were a smart guy. I mean, you’d have to be to be drafted in the first round of the NFL. But now, maybe I think you just got lucky.”
His lips twitched as he pulled a single curl from my messy mop through his fingers. Leaning in close, his lips inches from my ear, he whispered, “I have never, ever had the pleasure of spending time with a woman nearly as show stopping as you are.”
Smooth fucking talker.
His breath against my skin caused me to shiver, the chemistry we had so undeniable I was beginning to wonder if I was actually dreaming this encounter.
I’d spent my entire adult life wondering if I would ever find a man who could live up to my standards. I wanted so much, expected even more, and knew the chances of finding someone who wasn’t my worthless father or the countless crappy men I’d been forced to grow up around were slim to none. And yet, here I was, in a hotel suite in Las Vegas of all places, with a guy who checked nearly every box on my list.
“So, if I’m that incredible, which, by the way, I’m more… why am I only an eight?” I whispered back, my hand sliding along the edge of his jeans. The denim was rough beneath my fingertips, and I longed to see if the skin on his abs were as smooth as his muscular biceps.
“I may have lied about you being an eight.” His lips pressed against the hollow of my neck, and my skin broke out in goose bumps.
“You’ve probably lied about everything you’ve told me tonight,” I retorted, too lost in the way his hands felt in my hair to care if he had lied or not.
He pulled back, his eyes serious, all traces of humor gone. “I haven’t lied about anything. Not a word. My name really is Aiden Shaw. I really did get drafted to play for the Green Bay Packers in the first round. And I really do think you are stunning.”
My words about him lying had broken the spell between us, and I felt a pang of sorrow. “I didn’t mean it like that,” I tried to tease, anything to lighten the suddenly serious mood.
He cracked a smile and dipped his chin. “Yeah, I know.”
“So,” I started, desperate to get us back on the easy going track we had just been on moments ago. “When Brooke and I were in college years ago—”
“Wait. Years ago?” Aiden interrupted.
Oops. I hadn’t told him that I was eight years older than him. In my mind it didn’t really matter.
I shrugged. “Yeah. Brooke and I graduated from college eight years ago.”
I could see the gears in his head turning, doing the math. “So, that would make you…”
“It’s my birthday!” I said, throwing my arms out. “Thirty. It’s why we’re here this week.”
His jaw dropped as his eyes roamed my face. “I don’t believe you.”
I pressed my hand to my chest and repeated what he’d said earlier, “Hand to heart, swear to God.”
Aiden’s large hand engulfed mine, his fingertips grazing my breasts and sending a shiver down my spine. “Well, you were a ten before, and you’re still a ten now.”
He leaned in, and my lids fluttered shut as his lips grazed mine before his teeth nipped at my lower lip. I giggled as he wrapped one arm around my waist, scooting me flush with his firm chest, the other anchoring my head in place before his tongue dipped inside, tasting me.
His tongue swirled with mine, the taste of bourbon on his lips mingling with the wine on mine. I sighed into his mouth as he deepened the kiss, his tongue still moving slowly, lazily, taking its time exploring my mouth.
I shuddered, losing myself in the feel of strong hands holding me close, the soft flesh of his back under my fingers, his mouth tender as he expertly worked mine.
I’d just arched my back, pressing my breasts against him, my hands sliding down his back, destination the button of his jeans, when his phone chimed
with an incoming text.
Aiden pulled away, the loss of his lips instantly taking the wind out of my sails. “I should check that.” He leaned away from me and reached for my phone. “Here, you need yours?”
I shook my head.
I didn’t need to read a single one of the incoming texts I’d gotten that night. Whatever it was could wait.
Before I could respond, he tossed it to me and then grinned as I easily caught it. “Oh, man. I could use a set of hands like yours on the field.”
What the hell had just happened? We’d gone from hot and heavy to each of us playing on our phones?
Aiden checked the message, and whatever it was caused the lines in his forehead to crease, his lips to tip down into a frown. I felt like I was invading his privacy watching him, so I checked my phone as well, all while watching him out of the corner of my eye.
He scrubbed the hand that had just been palming the flesh of my ass over his face and then typed out a quick response before tossing his phone aside.
“Everything, uh, okay?” I asked, tipping my chin toward where his cell lay discarded.
He glanced over, the frown deepening, but nodded. “Yeah. It’s all good.”
Disappointment washed through me when he pushed to his feet. “Can I get you another glass of wine?”
I nodded, and he made his way across the small suite to the mini bar and poured us each another round. When he settled back into his spot on the couch, I asked one more time. “You sure everything’s okay?” Even though it would be a crushing disappointment, I offered, “I can go if you need me to.”