She bypassed a guest room, and another being used for storage. A box marked “Claire” sat on the floor, and she peeked inside. A white sweater and pair of oversize headphones were all she’d evidently left behind.
The last bedroom at the end of the hall held a model of a neighborhood in the center of a large folding table. The model had several buildings, including apartments and what looked like a retail area, as well as a a green slab with tiny benches and a swing set.
“You found my secret project,” said a voice behind her.
“Oh!” Startled, she straightened quickly and bumped the table. She turned just as quickly to steady the model, grateful she didn’t knock it off and turn the impressive work of art into a pile of matchsticks.
“Sorry. I’m sorry.” She backed away from the table. “I was... Um. I like how you decorate. Your house is amazing.”
“Relax, Hayden. I don’t think you were casing my house in search of the good silver.” He handed her a champagne flute. “Your sparkling water. I added a wedge of lime. I do well with fussy.”
She hummed, keeping her thoughts about Claire to herself.
“Is it really secret?” she asked of the model.
“No, but very few people know about it. This neighborhood is going to sit behind Summer’s Drift. We’re building around the trees. The architecture is Swedish. Row houses, a few restaurants.” He pointed out the various elements.
“And a park.”
“And a park.” He assessed her, eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“It’s just—”
“What is it?” She straightened her sweater and reached for her hair, fidgeting.
“You look ready now, Hayden Green.”
Oh.
Oh.
“To have the hell kissed out of me?” she guessed.
He set her glass aside, his gaze zooming in on her mouth. “I’m guessing that’s going to require a lot of kissing.”
She rested her arms on his shoulders. “Are you up for the task?”
“Hell, yes,” he said, his voice gravel. And then he smothered her laughter with a rough kiss.
Nine
Kissing Hayden was like being kissed for the first time.
He moved his lips over hers, a unique thrill jolting him as she gripped the back of his head and dove in for more. Her tongue came out to play, nudging his top lip before her teeth nipped his bottom lip.
No, screw that. Kissing Hayden was like being kissed by Hayden for the first time. If he’d been kissed like this for his first kiss, he would’ve had no idea what to do next.
Thank God he knew now.
Opening to accept her tongue, he deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around her lower back and pressing her soft body against his. She was fit, muscular and curvy, but there was give where there should be. In her breasts flattening against his chest, and her belly, which made for a perfect place to nudge the hint of his erection.
Kissing Claire was never like this.
He shouldn’t compare, but he couldn’t keep from doing it. Couldn’t keep from noticing that Hayden’s strength and softness were two attributes that his ex had never had. Claire was controlled, buttoned-up. Tate had mirrored those attributes, which made for some uninspired sex.
He couldn’t think of a scenario where Hayden and uninspired would go together in a sentence.
“I promised myself,” she whispered, tugging his hair, “the next chance I had—” she stole a quick kiss “—I’d do this.”
“Kiss me?” he asked before she lit him up with another tongue lashing.
She pulled her lips away and regarded him with disbelief. “Have sex with you.”
“You want to have sex with me?” he growled.
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, like you don’t want to have sex with me?”
Her confidence was his favorite part about her. The second was her body. He gripped her hips and squeezed, loving the contrasting strength and give there, as well. “I do. I really, really do.”
Something serious shadowed her eyes. The tugging she’d done earlier to his hair changing to gentle strokes. She tipped her chin and took him in, her dark eyes both earnest and vulnerable.
Leaning in slowly, he gave her the chance to change her mind, to back away and thank him for the invite and insist he drive her home. He would. He didn’t want to, but he would.
She instead closed the gap between them, her lips barely brushing his as she gave him room to initiate.
Hell. Yes.
He wouldn’t miss the chance to sleep with her tonight. Not when she tasted and felt this good—and he sensed she needed the physical connection as badly as he did.
Threading her hair through his fingers, he took charge of her mouth. He bent his knees to lower them to the floor and she followed, easing down with him in one fluid, graceful movement. He took a mental snapshot of her on his carpeted floor, her hair spread around her like a dark halo. She was gorgeous and, for now, his.
He braced his weight on his arms and hovered over her, studying her unique beauty. Until her lips spread into an uncertain smirk. “You’re staring again.”
“Can’t help it.”
“Why? Is there a problem?”
“Holding out longer than ten minutes, maybe.”
“Well, forget it then.” She winked, saucy, which only made him harder.
“I was admiring you. And wondering how I missed that you were this exquisite until the night you found me loitering outside your studio in the driving rain.”
She stroked his hair gently. “I was admiring you that night, too.”
“I was kidding about the ten minutes. Let’s make this last.” He covered her mouth with his own, and she returned his efforts. While her fingernails tickled his scalp, he skimmed his hand along her sweater, lifting it until he encountered a slice of soft skin. A low groan reverberated from his chest, and he reminded himself that he’d promised to make this last. As badly as he wanted her naked, he was going to take his time. He had one shot at convincing her to sleep with him more than once. After that first kiss she’d so boldly initiated, he knew once would not be enough.
He had to impress her.
He rucked her shirt up and exposed her taut abdomen—delicately defined, he could make out the muscles above her belly button. There was softness to the bit below, and he again admired the juxtaposition. Beauty wasn’t found in the expected, but in the surprises; the imperfect.
He moved down her body to kiss her stomach and then back up to her bra. Gold and black and lace held breasts that were large and round. He was definitely going to need a moment with each of them. He helped her sit up and divested her of her sweater. Hayden shivered.
“Cold?” he asked.
“Excited,” she answered. He loved her honesty.
“Flattery, Ms. Green, will get you absolutely everywhere.”
“Sucker,” she whispered.
Smacking a brief kiss onto the center of her cunning mouth, he found the hook of her bra, failed at releasing it and tried again.
“Out of practice?” She reached behind her to unhook it herself.
“Yeah. I guess I am.” It’d been a while since he’d undressed Claire. He realized with stark discomfort that they’d usually undressed themselves before sex. What a waste. This was the best part.
Bra loosened, Hayden slipped it from her arms, watching his reaction as she exposed her breasts to the cooler air in the room.
Dusky rose, her nipples pebbled. He took one into his mouth and sucked gently. She reacted like he’d plugged her into an electric socket, zapping to life with an encouraging gasp as she raked her hands into his hair again.
He swirled the tender bud and then dragged his tongue over the other nipple and started on that one. She squirmed beneath him, lifting her hips to bump his.
He was hard and well past ready but unwilling to rush—or so he had to keep reminding himself.
After she’d thoroughly wrecked his hair, he abandoned her breasts to undo her belt and unbutton her jeans. Halfway through unzipping, she reached for his sweater and yanked.
“Take this off.”
It wasn’t hard to take orders from a rosy-cheeked, topless woman on her back. Not even a little.
He whipped off the shirt and she ran her fingertips over his pectorals and stomach, and then along the line of hair that vanished into his jeans. She bypassed the belt and zipper and molded her hand around the stiff denim hiding his cock. If he thought he was hard before, that was nothing compared to the inches of steel created by her tenderly stroking hand.
Moving her wrist, he reprimanded her with a headshake and yanked her pants from her legs. He had her short boots to contend with, so that took a second or two of struggle.
Her black and gold panties made it worth the work.
“Tell me you always wear lingerie.”
“I always wear lingerie.”
“Even under your yoga pants?”
“I don’t wear anything under my yoga pants.”
Great. He could never take a class from her again without embarrassing himself.
“Your face.” She chuckled, returning her hands to his abs. “Where have you been hiding this body? I guess I wasn’t looking hard enough.”
“Neither of us were.” He kissed her palm and pulled the sides of her panties down her thighs as he laid kisses on her belly and thighs. Once he’d stripped them from her, he lifted one of her legs and rested it on his shoulder, enjoying the way she propped herself up to watch. She opened wider to accommodate him, not the least bit shy about accepting what she wanted.
And he wasn’t the least bit shy about giving it to her.
* * *
It’d been so long since a man’s mouth had been between her legs she was almost too excited to concentrate. Almost.
Tate worked his magic until she was forced to close her eyes, lie back and give herself over to his ministrations. He paid careful attention to what she liked, doubling his efforts whenever she let out a whimper of approval.
Which she did a lot.
The man had skills. She had the stray thought that she’d never dump a guy who could make her come as easily as Tate Duncan. That alone would be worth the price of admission.
A gentle series of orgasms hit her like rolling waves. Arching her back, she parted her thighs. He gripped her hips and tugged her toward his mouth, continuing his delicious assault until she was moaning again. There was another orgasm waiting on the cusp. She could feel it. She reached up to tug her own nipples, and that was exactly the move that took her over. Like one of those earlier waves, she came on a cry, undulating as pleasure rocked her body and erased her mind.
Her breath sawed from her lungs, leaving her body warm and buzzing. A shadow darkened her vision behind her eyelids.
“Open your eyes, beautiful girl,” Tate murmured before kissing the corner of her mouth.
She was confronted with a tender ocean-blue stare.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.” She laughed at the absurdity of the greeting, at the sheer delight of it. She’d never had this much fun having sex, and technically they hadn’t had sex yet.
“Condoms are in the bathroom across the hall,” he told her. “Which means I have to leave the cradle of your incredible thighs, find one and come back.”
“Okay.” She nodded quickly to let him know she wasn’t suffering an ounce of doubt where making love to him was concerned. She was all for it.
“Okay.” He stood and stepped over her, adjusting the hard ridge pushing the fly of his jeans to capacity, and then walked into the hallway.
Hayden slapped her hands over her face and smiled into her palms. She was really doing this. And it was really freaking incredible.
Tate returned in record time and, holding the condom wrapper between his teeth, wrestled free from his belt and jeans. She simply lay there and watched as he stripped for her, admiring the strong planes of his muscular body and the strength he exuded.
When he tugged off black boxer briefs, she felt her mouth go very dry. It was...well, it was gorgeous, was what it was. Long and thick and inviting, all brought to stark attention as he rolled the protection over his length.
“Keep looking at me like that, and we’ll be done sooner than you’d like,” he warned, lowering over her willing body.
“I don’t believe you.” She hooked her heels over his ass and tugged him forward, his heated skin warming hers. The hardness between his legs met her plush, wet folds and she gasped.
“You’re far too capable, Tate Duncan—” she paused as he notched her entrance “—to finish before you’re good and ready.”
A feral, cocky glint lit his eyes as he seated himself deep inside her. Her mind blanked of thought as moved, slipping along the wetness he’d created with his talented mouth.
Hayden stopped teasing him and gave in to the pleasure he doled out blow by exquisite blow.
Ten
“Mmm.” Hayden hummed, pure satisfaction.
Tate smiled over at the dark-haired beauty on the floor next to him, proud of those three letters making up one truncated sound. He’d worked hard.
“We’re good at that,” he stated.
“We are.” Her throat bobbed with a husky, sexy laugh She turned her head to face him, and he was struck momentarily speechless by the unwavering eye contact. “I had complete faith in you.”
Goose bumps prickled her arms and she shivered. He rolled to the side and rubbed her biceps with his hand in an attempt to warm her.
“How about some hot cocoa or tea?”
“I’d never turn down cocoa. Do you have marshmallows?”
“What am I, a barbarian? I have homemade marshmallows from Blossom Bakery.”
“I love those.” Her expression was a lot like her last O face, which made him grin.
He offered a hand and helped her sit up.
“Wow. I’m zapped.” She put a hand to her hair. “I must be a mess.”
“You are a mess. A complete and utter, distracting, hot mess.”
“That...was a compliment, I assume?” She narrowed one eye.
“Yes.” He kissed her succinctly. “What time are you going to Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow?” He knew some families ate earlier in the day—hell, his own mother set the table at 11:00 a.m.
“I’m—” She shook her head in a rare show of discomfort. “I’m not going anywhere for Thanksgiving. My family...we’re sort of distant.” The arms she’d wrapped around herself tightened.
“If you don’t have anywhere to be in the morning then you should stay the night here.”
“You want me to stay?”
“I do. Yes. And then I want to do what we just did three or four more times.”
“Four!” she said on a laugh. “Four times before tomorrow morning?”
“Preferably.”
He’d hardly know himself right now if he were an outside observer. He was beyond what should be comfortable with Hayden this soon.
After he’d learned of his actual birth parents and twin brother, Tate had vowed to deal with it like he had any other moment of adversity. Just plow through with certainty and confidence that it would work out in the end. He’d underestimated the emotional toll of finding out his entire existence was a lie.
His relationship with his adoptive parents had become strained—a totally new dynamic for them—and then Claire had ended the engagement. Tate began thinking that closeness wasn’t something he was meant to have on a long-term basis.
He was having trouble categorizing Hayden, though. He liked being close to her. He liked her honesty and wit. He just plain liked her. Way more than he shou
ld.
Tate had played safe his entire life. Had laid out each step after the last in a predictable, cautious way. What good had playing it safe done him? He’d lost everything unexpectedly.
A part of him argued that he should be smart about this thing with Hayden—that he shouldn’t get in too deep—and in response he raised a middle finger. He was trying a new tack. He was embracing danger and unpredictability for a change.
He needed to shake off the caution from his past. Needed to feel alive. And since no one made him feel more alive than Hayden Green, he needed her.
They both dressed, pausing to send satisfied smiles over at each other in between zipping and buckling. She tugged on her boots and pulled a hair tie from her pocket. In two seconds, and barely trying, she’d fashioned a ponytail.
“Impressive.” Everything about her.
He took her hand and walked with her downstairs. Five minutes later he served her at his kitchen table, setting a mug piled high with sticky, square marshmallows in front of her.
She cradled the mug before navigating a sip of the cocoa around the melting marshmallows. “Mmm.”
“When you made that sound earlier, I liked it then, too.”
“Yes, well, you earned it.”
Confidence straightened his shoulders at the comment and again when she looked around the room. He admired it with her—the stylish gas fireplace, the wide open windows with nothing but dark woods beyond. His carefully chosen furnishings, earthy in both materials and color.
“I’d love to have this much space.” She tilted her head back to admire the overhead lighting. “Not that I don’t love living above my studio. But this...” She let out a wistful sigh. “This is beautiful.”
“Does that mean you’re staying?”
“I didn’t bring any clothes.” She pressed a finger to his lips when he opened his mouth to argue. “You’re going to say I don’t need them.”
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