by Nicole Dykes
“Do I ever kid?”
Hayden’s voice is stern, and I fight a smile when Gretchen’s mouth turns from scowl to pout.
“It’s too bold, Hayden. It will turn guests off.”
“It’s fucking red. A dark, classic red.” Hayden’s eyes don’t meet mine, instead they stay on Gretchen. “It was a good call. Otherwise the rooms would be all gloom and doom.”
I feel a sense of pride but don’t say a word, which is not my style as Gretchen huffs and brushes by me, her shoulder making quick contact with mine as she throws her hissy fit.
Hayden and I are left alone in one of the suites. His eyes stay trained on the red chair in the corner.
“Do you actually like it?” I move to stand next to him, enjoying his expensive cologne far too much. “Or do you just like riling Gretchen up?”
He turns to face me, his lips pulled in the slightest grin. “Both.”
I smile. It’s been two weeks since our candid discussion in this same hotel, and we’ve both been all business since. Although, we haven’t spent much time alone. Most of our conversations have been through emails.
“It looks good.”
“The rooms are nearly complete.”
He nods approvingly. “Restaurants are next.”
“I’m ready.”
He smiles and my eyes subconsciously move to the scar on his hand I can’t stop thinking about.
“Lola.” His voice is deep and commanding as my eyes lift.
“Yes?”
“I’d like to take you somewhere tonight. Are you free?”
I think my brain just short circuited, and I can’t seem to form words. Free? Is he asking me out? Like on a date? God, I'm so awkward.
“It’s for business reasons. I promise.”
Oh. I nod my head, my throat still dry, and I find it hard to speak, clearing my throat. “Yes. Of course.”
He looks at his phone. “Do you need to go home first, or are you ready now?”
I look at my own phone and see it’s nearly six in the evening. Wow, today went fast. “No, I don’t need to go home.”
“Good.” I follow him as we pass Gretchen in the lobby, her death glare stays trained on me as Hayden addresses her. “Put in the final orders I sent to your email and then go home for the day.”
She looks panicked. “You’re leaving with her?”
Hayden’s back straightens as his shoulders square. It’s clear he’s losing patience. “We have more work to do.”
Her eyes move to mine with a silent, hateful warning, and I can’t stop my eyes from rolling. I won’t be intimidated by anyone.
Hayden turns to me. “I’ll drive. I’ll bring you back to your car later.”
I don’t argue, I just want to be far away from Gretchen and her icy gaze. I follow him and climb into his passenger seat before he takes off.
“So where are we going?”
“One of my favorite restaurants.”
“Dinner?”
His shoulders shrugs as he clutches the wheel with one hand. “We have to eat, don’t we?”
“I suppose.” I look at the cars in front of us as we creep along the road. “So, are we stealing ideas from this restaurant?”
“No. Although, I wish it could work.”
I’m confused. “What?”
“I don’t think it would fit with the guests we’ll be accommodating, but it’s by far my favorite restaurant here.”
“What was your favorite restaurant in Kansas City?”
Now he smiles, and I could stare at him smiling all day long. “Gates.”
That brings a smile to my face. He really is from Kansas City. Everyone there knows Gates Barbecue. “I’m more of a Jack Stack sort of girl.”
He shakes his head with a chuckle. “Of course you are.”
“Some sort of rich girl jab?”
“Yup.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t remove the smile. “So, if we aren’t learning from this adventure, then we are just two people having dinner at your favorite place?”
“And talking business.”
“Right.”
My eyes move back to the scar on his hand, the one gripping the steering wheel, and he sighs loudly. “I’m sorry I froze when you asked me about it.”
“It’s none of my business.”
“I didn’t have a great childhood or really one at all. And it’s not a time I like to talk about.”
I nod solemnly. “I understand.” He gives me a side-eye, and I quickly try to explain by adding. “Penelope didn’t have the best start, and she’s told me some things over the years.”
I notice his body visibly stiffen, his jaw ticking with an anger I don’t understand. “How bad was it?”
I study him, trying to understand his obsession with Penelope. Or is it maybe any child who has a bad background like he does? “She was in foster care. And they weren’t all good to her. The final straw was when Linc found out her foster father had hit her.”
I see his hands tighten their grip on the steering wheel and see him swallow hard as if the lump in his throat is a ball of rage he can’t get rid of. “Hit her?”
I nod. “Yes. She had a black eye. It was awful.”
“Did anything else happen to her?”
“Do you know her? Is that what this is?” He parks the car in a restaurant parking lot and turns to me as I study him. “Were you in foster care with her?”
It’s plausible. Even if he’s older than her. "No. You were there the first time I met Penelope.”
“Then why do you seem so angry?”
“Because they hurt her.”
He drops his hands to his sides, and my hand brushes over the back of his scarred hand. “They hurt you.”
I watch his throat bob and see the agony under the surface. “My father did this. My own blood, not a foster parent.”
I stare at him in horror. My father is an asshole, but he never physically hurt me. “Why?”
His laugh is bitter and cold. “I was breathing too fucking loud probably. I don’t know. I was six.”
I want to cry for him. “Six?”
He nods. “He was a mean drunk.”
“I’m so sorry.” It’s a quiet whisper as my hand rests on top of his.
“I’m fine. It healed a long time ago, but it left an ugly fucking scar.” His face moves closer to mine, and I can feel his heat radiating toward me. “I have a lot of them.”
My eyes drift over his clothed torso and then back to his eyes. “Please tell me he was punished.”
“I don’t know.”
My brows furrow in confusion. “You don’t know?”
“He left right after the thing with my hand. Probably afraid my teacher would report it, which is exactly what she fucking did. He was already long gone, and I haven’t seen him since.”
“What about your mother?”
Please tell me his mother is at least halfway decent. “Worthless. Fucking headcase.”
“Who are you, Hayden West?”
The question escapes my mouth before I can stop it, leaving me slightly embarrassed. But it doesn’t faze him. His hand grips my chin as he forces me not to look away but instead right into his eyes. “Right now? I’m a starving guy who doesn’t want to talk anymore.”
I stare into his beautiful eyes and feel hunger like I've never known.
Only it’s not food I want.
Why can’t I shut the fuck up around her? I need to. I know I shouldn’t have told her about my father, but the way she stares at my scar . . . Fuck, it kills me.
Others have asked about it.
I've never talked about it until tonight.
We go into the crowded barbecue restaurant, and although it’s nothing like the Kansas City barbecue I’m used to, it’s damn close.
We eat dinner in silence, a quiet I fucking hate. But if I tell her who I really am and all of my reasons for tracking down her business, she’ll no doubt hate me.
And rightfully so.
She’s so fucking beautiful and curious. I can see her interest. I know she wants to know more about me, and it alarms me, something I’m not used to feeling. My left hand sweeps into her soft blond waves as my other hand rests on her hip, pulling her body to mine as my lips fuse with hers. For a moment I don’t think. For a brief moment, I'm lost in her full lips pressed against mine as they part, allowing my tongue to dart in and explore her mouth.
I’ve wanted to kiss her since the day she walked into that crowded coffee shop, but none of my fantasies were even close to the actual experience. Her small body presses against mine with feral hunger as my erection presses against her hip and she leans back against my car door.
Her fingers slide through my hair, and her nails scrape my scalp. I'm vaguely aware of other people around us in the crowded parking lot, but it doesn’t stop me from pressing my hard dick between her legs, wishing there were no clothes between our bodies.
“Hayden . . .” Her sweet moan against my lips snaps me back to reality, and I know we need to stop.
She doesn’t know who I am.
We have a professional relationship.
I nip her bottom lip gently before pulling away from the kiss and begging my body to calm the fuck down. She’s panting as she stares into my eyes.
“I’ll take you to your car.”
She looks hurt by my gruff tone, but I can’t think about it. I grab the handle to the door as she moves out of the way, and I tug it open for her. Rounding the car, I take several deep breaths before climbing behind the wheel.
What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve always been in control.
We don’t speak on the way back to the hotel, and when I park my car in front, only her car and mine remain. Everyone else has gone home for the day.
We stay in the car for a moment before she huffs angrily and opens the door and climbs out.
Fuck!
I’ve never chased anyone in my life, but that’s exactly what I do as I quickly jump out of my car and reach her just as she’s about to open her own door. “Lola, wait.”
“Why?” She spins around, her eyes darting to mine. “We work together. Tonight was a mistake just like with Gretchen. I get it.”
“You don’t.”
She’s nothing like Gretchen, and I’m surprised she could even compare whatever this is to that. “So then, explain it to me, Hayden. Who are you? Really. What are you hiding from me?”
“I’m nobody, Lola. Literally nobody.”
“Were you a foster kid?”
“No.”
Her eyebrow raises, and I know she thinks I'm lying, backtracking from what I told her earlier.
She rolls her eyes and goes for the door handle, but I block it with my body. “I was never in foster care. I was taken from my parents, but my father’s mother took me in. She didn’t have to, but she did. She hated her son, but somehow she loved me.”
“So, someone was good to you?” Her concern is so genuine it nearly crushes me.
I nod my head and sweep her hair out of her eyes as she looks up at me. “Yes. She was.”
“Is she still . . .” She struggles with the question, but I know what she’s asking.
“No. She died when I was sixteen.”
“You were a minor?”
I hate reliving this shit and huff, scrubbing my hands over my face. “Yes, but I had a job and some inheritance from her. So, I was able to become an emancipated minor, and then I went to college when I turned eighteen.”
“You came from all of that and made it to this?” Her hand gestures toward the grand hotel in front of her car.
I shrug, suddenly uncomfortable with my own success.
When I don’t answer her, I feel her heated gaze on my face even as I look past her like a coward.
“Why did you kiss me?” Her question startles me enough to look directly at her. Her pink lips part, and then she asks another question. “Was it because you had a bad day?”
She’s referring to my fuck-up with Gretchen again, and I hate it. “No.” My tone is too gruff, and she flinches slightly so I quickly add, “I didn’t have a bad day. I had a really good day.”
“Then why did you stop?” Her voice is a husky whisper as her eyes widen with vulnerability.
“I didn’t want to.” I smile, hoping we can move on because my willpower is only so great. “What did you want me to do? Fuck you in the parking lot?”
It was supposed to be a joke, but her gaze only intensifies as she swallows, looking into my eyes. “I think I did.”
Christ. I can’t hear that. “We should leave.”
She nods her head in silent defeat. “I need to go back upstairs. I left my notes in one of the rooms.”
I should let her go alone. It’s safer for me that way, but instead, I escort her inside the building, only turning on the lobby lights and then riding in the elevator with her. My body begs me not to be a pussy.
We’re both single adults.
We walk into the room she indicates is the one with her notes in it, but before she can walk to the room, my hand grabs her wrist, pulling her small body to mine. I don’t think about it as I cup both sides of her face and brush my lips over hers. “I wanted to.”
Her shock is heightened when I kiss her, not letting her say anything to my confession of wanting to fuck her in the parking lot. I want to fuck her every fucking where.
But if I think too much about this, I'll stop.
And I don’t want to stop. We’re both consenting adults, attracted to each other.
I don’t see a problem.
Her small hands grasp my suit jacket, pushing it off my shoulders and to the floor as we continue to kiss in a heated frenzy. I quickly unknot my tie and tear it from my neck before my fingers make quick work of the tiny buttons on her gold, satin blouse.
Fuck, why the hell are we both wearing so many clothes?
I can’t get enough of her hungry mouth. Her hands are working on the buttons of my dress shirt as our bodies drift into the bedroom area of the luxury suite.
“You sure you want to cross this line?” I look at her unbuttoned shirt and the lacey white bra underneath, barely containing her breasts as she pants with arousal, her hands shoving my shirt over my shoulders, leaving my torso bare.
Her right hand slides over my left pec and then my right, over another scar, a much lighter, thinner one than the one on my hand, but she still found it. I let out a hiss of arousal when her head dips down and her tongue sweeps over the scar. “I’m tired of being in control all the time.”
Her hands roam over my stomach muscles, and I watch her heated gaze on my abs as they ripple at her touch. I can’t remember the last time I was this turned on. Or the last time I craved someone’s kiss as much as their touch. My mouth darts back to hers.
My hands find the thin belt around her waist and unfasten it, quickly pulling it through the loops and dropping it to the floor. “I like you in a suit, Hayden.” Her voice is sultry and full of desire as her finger trails through the ridges of my abs. “But I definitely like you out of a suit too.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet.” I wink, which causes her to roll her eyes. But she gnaws on her lip in anticipation as her eyes drift below my belt.
Fuck. I can’t remember the last time I was this fucking nervous for a girl to see me naked. Not that I have anything to be nervous about, but damn the way she’s looking at me . . .
I don’t know how to describe it.
There’s an innocence there, a naivete I didn’t anticipate.
Maybe I'm imagining it.
She takes a deep breath and then her lips attack mine again, telling me how badly she wants this as my hardness presses against her, and she moans into my mouth.
A condom would be a good idea.
Her lips are on mine though, and the feeling is too f
ucking good as my tongue darts into her mouth, enjoying every second. I unzip her skirt, and it falls to the floor. The need to look down is too great when she’s left in panties which match her bra. In this moment, she looks almost angelic even with her hair tangled by my hands and her lipstick smeared by my lips.
Her teeth nip at my bottom lip as she undoes my belt and slacks, pushing them down. I kick them off quickly along with my shoes and push her down onto the bed, settling onto the satin black comforter chosen by this gorgeous woman.
“Don’t be gentle with me,” she pants against my lips. I groan, feeling her arousal soaking through her panties and my boxer briefs.
“I’m never gentle.”
“Good.” She bites my bottom lip a little harder this time but not hard enough to draw blood. I growl, my lips going to her delicate neck, kissing, sucking, and then leaving small bites that only cause her to moan and grind her hips against my cock which is already straining painfully against my briefs.
Her hands rake down my back until her hands rest on my ass and slide under my briefs, digging her nails into the skin there.
Okay, so she likes it a little rough. Definitely not as innocent as she looked a few moments ago.
Thank. God.
I press my cock between her legs, grinding against her. My mouth moves to the shell of her ear. “You’re fucking soaked for me, Lola.”
“Yes,” she gasps out while her pussy slides along my dick as if there’s no barrier between us. She’s gripping my ass, pulling me closer to her, begging me for more.
I use one hand to cup her left tit that’s full and heaving, trying to escape the lacey cup covering it. My thumb drags over her hardened nipple through the fabric and then my hand drags over the soft, smooth skin of her stomach, not stopping until I reach her panties, pushing them out of the way.
I groan when I feel how wet she is for me, my fingers sliding through her slit to her ass and then back up again.
She moans my name, her back arching into me. “You’re killing me.”
“Don’t worry.” My lips brush over hers as I find her swollen clit, pinching it between my finger and thumb. “You’re going to get fucked tonight.”
Her hips thrust forward, as she nips at my bottom lip again, kissing me with desire and desperate anger. “Then quit teasing me and do it already.”
