HAYDEN (Dragon Security Book 5)

by Glenna Sinclair

  “You shouldn’t be here, Hayden.”

  “Why? You give me one good reason why I shouldn’t be here, and I’ll go. But, so far, you haven’t offered anything concrete.”

  She shook her head, that pretty ponytail bouncing against her neck and shoulders. “Why do I have to give you a reason? Isn’t it enough for you to know I don’t want this?”

  “But you’ve never said you don’t want it. And you surely didn’t act like you didn’t want it last night.”

  She blushed, her cheeks so red she looked as though she’d been out in the sun too long. She stepped back and I took the advantage, slipping into her condo and slamming the door behind me. She looked up again as I engaged the deadbolt.

  “What are you doing?”

  “We need to talk this out.”

  “You need to leave! I told you—”

  “You’ve talked circles around this. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll let it go.”

  She tried to pull away, but I grabbed her arm, turned her, and forced her against the door I’d just slammed.

  “Tell me, Sam.”

  I leaned close to her, already able to taste her kiss just from the memory of last night. I brushed the back of my fingers against her jaw, and let my fingers slip over the curve of her throat. She groaned, but she didn’t try to pull away.

  “You want me. Admit it.”

  “I do,” she said softly, her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at me.

  “Then what’s the problem.”

  “I just…I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Those words cut through me, through the walls I’d built around myself with humor and a million other things—sometimes inappropriate things—to keep words like that from getting to me. But this was Sam, this was a delicate, beautiful girl who someone managed to find the chinks in the wall and come through more often than anyone else had ever done. It killed my heart—a heart I’d assumed was broken irreparably—to hear those words fall from her lips.

  “It’s not really your choice, now is it?”

  “Hayden—”

  “I get to decide who I let in and who I don’t. I get to decide who has the power to hurt me.”

  “But you don’t—”

  “I want you, Sam. I don’t think there’s anything you could say right now that could change that.”

  I kissed her roughly, forcing her back against the door with the length of my body. She made a soft mewling sound, but she didn’t try to force me away. In fact, she raised her hands and pressed her fingers into my hair, tugging me closer to her. And that was all the confirmation I needed.

  I picked her up and carried her halfway through the room, not really sure where it was I’d intended to go. I’d been in this condo a few times, usually to pick up something or drop something off for Megan. I’d never been a guest and never gone upstairs. I had no idea where her bedroom was or what it looked like. For all I knew, she had a narrow little twin bed like a nun in her cell.

  I tripped over an armchair and we fell in an awkward heap. She laughed as I twisted my body, trying to keep my weight from crushing her. In a minute we’d somehow managed to get into an interesting position with me sprawled on the expanded chair, and she in my lap, almost as if we’d planned it that way. I tugged at her shirt, watching her eyes for any weariness, any warning, pulling it up over her head to expose those beautiful breasts.

  I sat up and kissed her neck before slowly moving down to her full, long nipples. They were like mini fingers, sticking up and pointing toward the ceiling. I drew one between my teeth as my hand covered the other, listening to the moan of pleasure she tried to keep between her teeth, but failed. Her fingers were in my hair again, raking through it like a comb through a kitten’s fur.

  I had to admit, I’d never been a fan of women wearing sweats. But I loved the way the waistband was loose enough that my fingers could just slide underneath. And I liked the sensation of the soft lining against the back of my hands while my palms enjoyed the silkiness of her bare skin. She lifted her hips from my thighs when my fingers brushed against her inner thighs, drawing me up against her as I found the edge of her barely-there panties and slipped my finger along the outer edge of her pussy.

  She leaned down to kiss me when I lay back to take a good look at her nearly naked body. There was shyness to her touch, but it was a thin veneer over a need that was overwhelming. She kissed me with a passion that even my most experienced lovers had never exhibited. Sam knew what she wanted, and she had a vague idea how to get it. And I was so beyond excited to teach her.

  She pulled my shirt up over my head, her eyes greedy as they took in every inch. Then her hands were playing at the snap on my jeans, tugging and touching, forcing me to pull them away.

  “Take off your pants,” I demanded.

  She blushed, but she climbed off me, stepping back far enough that I couldn’t reach her unless I climbed off the chair myself. I sat up, lowering the chair’s footrest, leaning on my knees as I watched. She wasn’t going to make this easy. She turned her back to me, moving her hips in something that was a cross between a shimmy and a twerk—as close to a twerk as an innocent girl like Sam could get. She lifted the waist of her pants away from her skin, moving it around her hips like it was a towel she could just toss aside. And then she let them go, giggling when I made a half-assed move to grab her pants and remove them myself.

  I couldn’t believe this was the same girl who wore clothing from her neck to her ankles, who hid her gorgeous figure under the most shapeless, inappropriate-for-her-age clothes of anyone I’d ever met. She did that shimmy thing again, exposing the length of one hip briefly before hiding it again.

  “I want to see you…”

  She glanced at me over her shoulder, the amusement in her eyes disappearing as she met my eye. She bit her bottom lip, a touch of fear—fear that was nearly completely crushed by the weight of her desire—filling her eyes.

  She turned away again, her head rolling back for a long second as she stared at the ceiling. Then, slowly—painfully slow—she began to slide the sweats over her hips and down along her legs. I watched, my heart in my throat, as she stepped out of them, covered only in this tiny slip of a panty. That, too, she slowly removed, making me wait as she tugged them over her legs. She hesitated after stepping out of them, turning only after it seemed like hours had gone by, her arms crossed over her chest, pressing them together to make this incredible bit of cleavage as she tried to also cover the soft mound much lower.

  My heart was in my throat. I could see how painful this was for her. But I wanted to worship her and I could see in her eyes that she needed me to worship her.

  I stood, my cock so hard that it almost hurt to move, but I denied myself the relief of a touch, a stroke. I just walked around her, taking in every inch of her beautiful body. Her skin was creamy, the color of peach silk. It was unmarred by scars, freckles, or other blemishes, just smooth and perfect from her scalp to her toes. Her breasts were high and round, more than three times a handful. Her waist was narrow, her hips wide, and her thighs slender and strong. Her bush was full, natural, and slightly darker than the hair on her head. And her ass…I’d known she had an erotic ass. That was one thing her long skirts couldn’t hide.

  She watched me, that weariness I’d been looking out for finally in her eyes.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  She shook her head, her hands coming down to cover her mound again. I grabbed her wrist roughly and tugged her hand away.

  “Do you know what you do to me, just standing there like that?”

  She blushed, shaking her head again.

  I pressed her hand to the front of my jeans; I let her feel the steel of my erection. Her blush deepened and she tried to pull her hand away, but I wouldn’t let her.

  “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever set eyes on,” I said against her ear, keeping my hands away from her with an iron will that was beginning to buckle. “I’ve nev
er wanted anyone the way I want you right now.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Why not?”

  She was quiet for a minute, tears in her beautiful eyes. I rubbed her hand against my cock and she groaned, her eyes closing as she tilted her head toward the ceiling again.

  “Do you believe me now?”

  She groaned, her eyes coming back to mine. “Why? Why would you want me? No one else ever has.”

  The pain in those words ripped a hole in my soul. I slid my lips across her jaw, nibbled at the corner of her chin.

  “That’s because you’ve never let anyone this close. You’re always pushing everyone away.”

  She shook her head, but I knew she knew I was right. I grabbed her jaw with my free hand.

  “But that’s okay, because you’re mine. Only mine.”

  She moved into me, her free hand slipping over my chest. I stepped back, forcing her away from me.

  “Do you believe you’re beautiful?”

  Tears began to roll down her cheeks. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Tell me you believe you’re beautiful.”

  “I believe you are.”

  I bit my lip as I walked around her again, drinking in every inch of her. She didn’t try to cover herself again. We were making progress.

  “Tell me you’re beautiful.”

  She shook her head. “Please, Hayden…”

  The pleading in her voice spoke to something deep inside of me. I slipped up behind her, slid my arms around her waist, my fingers seeking the pleasures of her moist honeypot. She melted back against me, her thighs trembling as she parted them, giving me the access I needed.

  “You’re beautiful, Sam,” I groaned against her ear. “So fucking beautiful!”

  She nodded her head as she turned, her lips brushing against my jaw as she sought out my lips.

  “I believe it when I’m with you.”

  That was it. That was all I could stand.

  I pushed her toward the couch. She stumbled when her shins hit the hard frame, forcing her knees down. I lifted her hips, pushed her back so that she was bent prone over the back of the couch. Then I tore at my jeans, relief bursting through me when I released my hard cock and quickly pressed it against her wet cunt.

  I leaned forward, my cock rubbing against her lips.

  “I’m going to fuck you now,” I whispered harshly against her ear. “Because you’re mine.”

  “Please,” she whispered, leaning her head back against me. “Please, Hayden!”

  I loved the sound of my name on her lips. Loved the slight southern accent that only slipped out when she said my name. And I loved the need that dripped from her lips, the need that only I had brought out in her.

  I pulled back, positioning the head of my cock against her lips. She moved, too, taking me inside of her before I was ready. And then I was buried and my lungs just stopped, refusing to take in any more air. The pleasure that rushed through my body…there had to be laws against feeling this much all at once.

  Sam pressed back against me, her hips grinding against mine. I thrust, taking hold of her hips and holding her tight as I pounded against her. I couldn’t…I reached my threshold. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I pounded against her, forgetting that twenty-four hours ago she had been a virgin, forgetting that just an hour ago I was sitting out in my car, thinking I’d never touch this luscious body again. I forgot everything but how good it felt to bury myself inside of her and listen to the voice of my pleasure slipping from between her lips.

  She cried out and I cried out and…fuck, it was so good!

  When it was over, I collapsed against her and held her against me as I fell onto the couch’s cushions. She was a puddle of melted flesh as we lay there, both of us struggling to catch our breath. She didn’t try to cover herself now even though she was as exposed as she could possibly be. I found myself touching her, unable to resist the lure of her naked body even as her cunt still held my cock deep inside.

  “I love your body,” I whispered against her ear. “I love the way your skin feels, the way it tastes. I love the way it feels against mine.”

  She reached back and touched the side of my face. I nuzzled her throat lightly, pressing my facial hair roughly against her tender skin.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  She twisted, her lips brushing my jaw.

  “Tell me you want me, Sam.”

  She hesitated a second, then she stood, pulling away from me at the same instant she held out her hand to me, beckoning to me. I got up and followed her up the stairs and into her bedroom and into the center of her beautiful queen-size bed.

  “I want you, Hayden,” she said softly, her hand held out to me.

  It was like every dream I’d ever allowed myself, every desire I’d ever let myself entertain, everything that I’d never believed I could have lying right there, all wrapped together in one, perfect package.

  I crawled into her arms, stole her lips. And, just as I started to get lost again, I swore I heard her whisper,

  “Don’t fall in love with me…”

  Chapter 8

  Sam

  My body ached in places it’d never ached before. I shifted restlessly, my eyes trained on the clouds outside the jet’s windows, but seeing Hayden as he was in my bed last night. I bit my lip to keep a smile from slipping out. A smile that I knew Megan would read properly. I wasn’t quite ready to share this little bit of information with her. I wasn’t sure why…but I wasn’t.

  He’d still been there when I woke this morning, as he had been the prior two mornings. But I was still surprised…and relieved.

  “Why don’t you have tattoos?” I asked him this morning, running my hand slowly over his chest, tracing a fingertip around one teeny nipple.

  “I don’t like needles.”

  I giggled. “You fought in Afghanistan, but you’re afraid of needles?”

  “The enemy in Afghanistan didn’t stab me repeatedly with little pinpricks, injecting a questionable ink under my flesh.”

  I laughed and he pinned me down against the mattress, a pretend anger in his eyes that quickly disappeared as I pressed my bare hips up against his. I was a quick learner and I knew what it took to distract him. He buried his face between my breasts and…

  I couldn’t quite keep that smile from my face.

  “…you never told me.”

  I looked up, suddenly aware that Megan was talking to me. “What?”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Having trouble concentrating today?”

  I shrugged. “What did I never tell you?”

  “What you found on Dante when you did the second background check.”

  “Basically the same things. Why?”

  She looked uncomfortable, shifting in her seat as her eyes moved everywhere but to my face. “I just… I was thinking that since we’re going to New York, and he had been a cop in New York, we might do a little more digging.”

  “Are we looking for something in particular?”

  “It’s probably nothing.” She brushed a piece of hair from her face, a gesture that screamed nerves, like she was trying to hide something she’d done that she was a little ashamed of.

  “What?”

  She studied my face a second. “He got a call while he was at my house the other day.”

  “From who?”

  “Honeysuckle Nursing Home.”

  My eyebrows rose. “Isn’t that the same place where Luke—”

  “Yeah. But it’s a big place. They have over two hundred beds. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.”

  “I’m sure it is, too. But nothing ever came up on the background checks. As far as I know, he doesn’t have any living family.”

  “Maybe it’s a friend of the family. His mom’s best friend or something.”

  “Maybe.”

  I tugged my iPad out of its little case and pulled up the files on Dante. I looked through them a minute, Megan leaning to look over my should
er.

  “We could arrange to have lunch with a couple of his colleagues.” I pointed out a couple of names on the report. “Maybe one of them could tell us more.”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry. I wanted this trip to be fun, but…”

  “No, it’s fine. I want to do this for you.”

  She touched my knee, an overwhelming sadness filling her eyes. I looked away, not really ready to talk about what was happening. I’d heard what the doctor said. The details repeated themselves over and again in my head when it was quiet. Maybe that was part of why I was so grateful that Hayden had been there these last few nights. He kept me occupied and helped me sleep soundly. Those thoughts were gone until this moment.

  We landed a few hours later and went to a nice dinner that I could only afford in Megan’s presence. Then we arrived at the hotel—a ball of luxury that was almost overwhelming—and a long night of tossing and turning.

  “How long are they going to make us wait?”

  I tugged the dorky hospital gown closer against me, trying not to wonder if Hayden would find me beautiful if he were here and could see me like this.

  Megan came up behind me and rubbed my back. “I’m going to go see if I can find a nurse or someone.”

  “No, don’t go,” I said, snatching her wrist.

  She nodded, taking a seat in the chair beside me. But then she got up again and began to pace the room.

  “Do you really think this doctor will find something different than Dr. Alvarez back home?”

  Megan nodded. “I do.”

  “But Dr. Alvarez—”

  The doctor chose that moment to come into the room, my chart displayed on a tablet in his hand, a pretty nurse behind him.

  “Ms. Wagner,” he said, barely looking at me. “I understand you’re here for a second opinion on your myocarditis.”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded, still perusing the chart. It was a long moment of silence while he reviewed it, then he set it down and took a seat on a stool, rolling toward me.