by Shayla Black
“Not if, when. I’ll do whatever it takes to convince her to marry me. But I have to be honest, words aren’t working.”
“Ah. So…you’re plotting something underhanded? That’s something I’ve always admired about you, that talent to know when and how to be thoroughly unscrupulous.”
That makes me laugh. It sounds funny coming from upstanding Dan. But he’s not wrong. “I’m thinking truly down and dirty …”
“Tell me. I’ll see how I can help.”
Three days later
* * *
Perrie
My wedding is tomorrow and nothing is anything like I imagined. One by one, my college friends let me know they won’t be able to fly in last minute after all. They’re all too busy or broke. Turns out my high school friends and I don’t have that much in common anymore. Most are either still in college or think I’m crazy for settling down now. So no epic bachelorette party for me, which is actually fine. I’m not into exotic dancers or drunken party games. But my fiancé is still out of town. My dad has been conspicuously absent for hours. And Hayden is who knows where. I thought at least one of them would spend my last night as a single lady with me, but no.
I feel wretchedly alone.
That’s not precisely true. I have plenty of regrets to keep me company. They’re piling up and telling me that every choice I’ve made has been wrong.
My phone dings, interrupting that cheerful thought. I glance down to see a text from Derek.
Meetings all done. Everything went great. It’s not official yet, but I think Brayden and I nailed this account.
That’s great! I type back.
Sorry again I had to ditch out this week. Everything in place for the big show tomorrow?
My fingers hesitate over the screen. I’m so close to calling everything off. Of course, right after I got everything into place. I finally found a dress off the rack—with Hayden’s help. He’s been weirdly supportive the last couple of days. And as if he realized the error of opening his mouth, he’s been absolutely silent about marrying me after his impulsive proposal.
I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. I’ll press on and hope for the best, but I’m well beyond second thoughts. I’m on the billionth now.
Yes. Are you still okay with this wedding thing?
Of course! Don’t give up on me. I’ll be back. We got this.
Thanks.
Anything for you, darling. He sends a wink emoji with it.
With a faint smile, I darken my phone. Derek won’t let me down. He never has. I wish I could have fallen in love with him, at least a little.
Adding that to my pile of regrets, I pad barefooted to the liquor cabinet and pop open a bottle of red. The sound of vino sloshing into my empty glass is a sad one, but I drown it out by tossing back half the wine, then heading to the kitchen to find my last supper. After tomorrow, I’ll either be happy…or totally brokenhearted.
While I choke down some leftovers from last night’s roast chicken before I lose enthusiasm for food, I reach for my phone. It’s stupid and impulsive and likely to end in misery, but I tap out a message to Hayden.
What’s up?
No answer. When I mentioned something yesterday about maybe having a gathering tonight, he was oddly vague about his plans and changed the subject. Does he have a hot date? A hookup with a fuck buddy? Or is he just over me?
It’s a depressing thought.
With a sigh, I clean up my solitary dinner, plop onto the sofa, and stare into my nearly empty glass. While I contemplate pouring another, the doorbell rings. By the time I peer out the peephole, I see a driver climbing back in his van and driving away.
I open the door and find a bouquet of flowers on the porch, a colorful profusion of gardenias, pink lilies, cabbage roses, and orchids. It’s huge and breathtaking.
Who sent this?
I don’t know but I find myself smiling as I carry the flowers into the living room and root around for the card. I pull it free from its envelope and find three simple words.
* * *
Smell me now
* * *
Automatically, I comply. The beautifully dizzying scents swirl in my head and make me desperate to know who had them delivered to me. The card isn’t signed. Derek wouldn’t send me flowers; I know that. In fact, I can only think of one person who might have.
Hayden.
That possibility ricochets through my head as the doorbell rings again. I reach the peephole in time to see a local courier drop off a bag from a liquor store. When I retrieve it and peek inside, I spy a bottle of very swanky champagne. There’s an attached card with another three-word instruction.
* * *
Chill me now
* * *
Beside that, I find a plain white oblong box with another unsigned note.
* * *
Don’t open me
* * *
Did Hayden send these mysterious gifts? Since I can’t be sure, can he actually get mad if curiosity gets the best of me? As my brain twists the question around like a pretzel, I dutifully slide the bottle of bubbly into the fridge and set the box, wrapped with a silken red bow, on the kitchen counter.
I’ve barely finished before the doorbell rings yet again. What the hell is going on? Are all these gifts Hayden’s way of letting me down easy?
If so, I admit it; I’ll be crushed.
When I pull open the door again, the courier is standing there once more. He’s a teenage kid with an acne problem and bulging eyes. When he spies me in shorts and a tank top, he can’t seem to operate his tongue. Poor guy. I remember that awkward age…
“Are you supposed to give me the box in your hands?”
“Huh?” He swallows, then nods. “Um, are you Perrie?”
“That’s me.”
“I thought you’d be an old dude.”
I smile. “I get that sometimes. The box?”
“Right. I almost forgot.” He shoves it in my direction. “Have a good one.”
With a last long look, he jogs back to his idling hatchback still blaring an R & B tune. I shut the door, shaking my head.
Maybe I should look on the bright side. Though my life is still upside down, it could be worse. I could be sixteen again…and have six years of unrequited love for Hayden yet to endure.
The truth is, I have a good life. I’ve got some great people in my corner. I’m fielding multiple job offers in major cities all over the country, so I have choices if things don’t work out as planned. I’m young, healthy, and resilient.
I’d just rather not add brokenhearted to that list.
Sinking onto the living room sofa, I pluck at the frilly, pristinely wrapped package in my grip. The sticker affixed tells me it’s from a local store with a very sexy reputation. The little card tucked under the pale pink ribbon contains three more words.
* * *
Wear me now
* * *
My heart stutters. Did Hayden send me lingerie? Is that possible?
I yank the box open and tear through the dainty tissue paper. The white gossamer fabric and lace make me gasp. It’s stunningly soft.
When I hold up the piece by its spaghetti straps, the box falls at my feet, forgotten. The baby doll is completely sheer. The two cups designed to “cover” my breasts are trimmed in a playful yet delicate dotted lace. Under that, a tiny white bow, placed where the fabric gently gathers, pretends to hold the fluttering sides together. But that bow is purely for show because the sucker is split open with a scalloped hem that runs down the length of the torso and trims the bottom edge, which will barely skim the tops of my thighs.
I bend and scramble through the box for another card or anything that tells me who my mystery gift giver is. All I find is a tiny scrap of matching panties. The strips of lace over the hips echo the design meant to hug my breasts. The rest, including the material over my pussy, is so see-through I’m wondering why it’s there at all.
The tease factor on this getup is times a mill
ion. It’s lingerie meant for seduction. I’ve never owned anything like it.
There’s no question whether I’m going to put it on. I can’t wait to.
As I slip into the bedroom and tug off my shorts and tank, I hope and pray I’m donning this for Hayden.
If I’m being honest, I came back to Phoenix for him. Everything is always for him.
The garments feel like a silky cloud of nothing as I slide them on. When I stand in front of the full-length mirror, I’m stunned to see the lace hugs me perfectly, clinging and revealing even more than it conceals.
I feel like a goddess, a temptress. Like the woman who could put a big, satisfied smile on Hayden Hughes’s face.
From the living room, I hear music begin to play—something I can’t identify from this distance. But it’s slow and sexy and lures me downstairs because, other than my dad, only one person has a key to the front door.
Trembling, I make my way across the house. When I round the corner, the man I never fell out of love with stands in the archway, waiting. When Hayden sees me, he sucks in a breath. His jaw drops. He doesn’t speak, just blinks and swallows hard. I risk a glance down. He’s unmistakably excited by what he sees.
“Hi,” I whisper.
“Oh, Princess…” His gaze wends its way back up to mine. “Wow…”
Electricity sizzles across my skin. The air seems alive with it. The charged current bounces between us. He hasn’t put a finger on me yet, but I’m already so drugged with arousal I struggle to breathe.
“You sent this to me?”
He nods, seemingly looking for his brain. It would be funny if I wasn’t so nervous.
“Yeah, along with the flowers and champagne. Maybe all that’s cliché, but I’m late to the romance game with you, so I’m starting here. Damn, you’re even more gorgeous than I thought.”
“Why?”
The question comes out wrong, but he seems to understand that I’m not asking why he thinks I look good or why it’s taken him so long to sweep me off my feet.
“Because everything I said the day of the cake tasting was honest and serious.”
So…he wants to fuck me until he imprints himself on my soul? Persuade me to marry him instead? Or both?
Regardless, I have a decision to make.
But do I really? I’ve known what—and who—I want all along.
Before I throw away all my plans, I need answers. Besides, I shouldn’t make this easy on him after all the torment he heaped on us. “Why?”
Again, he doesn’t pretend to misunderstand or waste time. He jumps to the heart of the matter. “Because I love you.”
Shock whooshes the air from my lungs. He’s never said those words to me.
“Hayden…”
“I have for a long time. And you love me. Still.” He puts one foot in front of the other, slowly closing the distance between us. “Don’t you?”
I always have.
His eyes are all over me, mentally undressing me, until I feel as if I’m no longer wearing a single filmy stitch. Even his stare makes me dizzy with anticipation. I have no doubt in that moment that he sees me as a grown-up. His equal. The object of his desire. The woman who owns his heart.
“You know it’s not that simple,” I murmur.
“Ah, Derek the dipshit.” He scowls, expression harsh. “Take it off.”
“The lingerie?”
He shakes his head. “We’ll get there soon. Right now, I mean that rock of his.”
I didn’t even realize I was still wearing the engagement ring. It has become second nature.
Slowly, I slide it off my finger and set it on the coffee table. “This doesn’t mean I’m not marrying him. Or that I’ll sleep with you.”
“That’s exactly what it means.”
I raise a brow at him. But it’s hard to be angry when his stare rakes down my body with a visual caress that leaves me aching. My nipples turn hard. My pussy softens and floods. I ache for him.
Somehow I manage to shake my head. If he wants me, he’ll have to prove it. A few words and gifts won’t suffice. “We’re just having a conversation.”
He scoffs. “Before I take you to bed and prove you belong to me.”
“You’re assuming.”
“You’re wearing the lingerie I chose, knowing damn well I intend to seduce you.”
“That’s not true.” But it is. “I was just curious.”
Suddenly, he smiles. “All right. We’ll play this your way. But the Perrie I know would never go back on a promise.”
What’s he talking about? “Exactly. I promised Derek till death do us part.”
“You haven’t yet. Besides, you made a solemn vow to me four years ago.” He reaches into his pocket and extracts something that pings with a metallic clink when he tosses it on the coffee table beside me. “You promised I could return that to you when and wherever I wanted, and you would show me that you’re all the woman I need. I’m cashing in—right here, right now. Come here so I can finally kiss you the way I’ve wanted to.”
I glance down to find the final token from the water park’s arcade, which I impulsively shoved in Hayden’s hand the night of our last visit there. “You kept it?”
It’s probably silly, but I’m stunned and touched.
He nods. “You told me to look at it, feel it, and remember you. I have—every fucking day.”
I’m way more thrilled than I dare let on. “A girl said those stupid words.”
“No. A young, incredibly wise woman told me to give this back when I wanted not just her pussy but her. So here I am, admitting I want all of you. I always have.”
“Your timing is lousy. I’m getting married tomorrow.”
“Not to him. I’ve got all night to make sure of that.” He takes a half step closer and points to the ground in front of him. “Come here. Meet me halfway.”
How can I resist?
On bare feet, I tiptoe toward Hayden and find myself staring up into his familiar beloved face. I’ve fantasized about him making love to me for longer than I should admit. Is it really going to happen now?
“Good girl.” He cups my face in his hand. “Are you taking the token? Are you saying yes?”
I blink, staring up into his devilishly dark eyes. This is my decision point, my make-or-break moment, but what else can I say? “Yes.”
“Thank fuck. I feel like I’ve waited a hundred years to touch you.”
“I’ve waited longer.” I wrap my arms around his neck and press myself against his body, lips a breath away from his.
Hayden is already impatient, fists wrapping around the gossamer fabric as he closes the final inch between us and covers my lips with his. He doesn’t waste time seeking or searching. He plunges deep to prove that he can, that I’ll let him. That he owns me. It’s the kiss of a man staking his claim.
I sway and swoon into him, eyes closing as I dissolve into instant bliss. His throaty groan tells me he’s every bit as impacted as I am. We melt into each other as if we were always meant to share this moment.
Dragging in a heaving breath, he pulls away and peers deep into my eyes. “Jesus, Perrie. You kiss exactly the way I remember.”
Is that a good thing? “Yeah?”
“How is that fucking possible?”
I have no idea what he’s asking. “Will you kiss me again?”
“Oh, yeah. And this time I won’t stop until I know the feel of you gripping my cock as you shout how much you love me.”
“What if I don’t?” I can’t resist teasing him. The truth is, I’ve always loved him, and all it takes for me to dissolve into a puddle of need is to look at him.
He sends me a smug smile. “You better understand right now, princess, that I’m going to be relentless. I have a little more than twelve hours to prove to you that you’re engaged to the wrong man. I’m going to use every second. I’m going to leave you so boneless and sated. And I’m not going to leave your bed or your side until you admit that you love only me.”
I’m willing to admit that now, but I don’t. There’s no way I’ll let myself miss out on Hayden turning all his determined focus on me.
“You’re welcome to try.”
That makes him laugh. “You never did know when to stop baiting the bear, did you?”
Probably not, but his resolve makes me downright giddy.
I push him against the wall. “Shut up.”
Before he can respond, I tighten my arms around his neck and leap into his embrace. He catches me, both hands gripping my ass, and lets out a stunned oomph. I plaster my body against his and seize his lips.
His grip tightens. He moans, encouraging me. I should let him show me what he has in mind, let him prove how badly he wants me. But I can barely tamp down my brimming anticipation, especially when I wriggle and rub my clit against his steely cock.
“Fuck.” He ends the kiss with the gasped curse. “I can’t be patient right now. Have you fucked Derek in your bedroom?”
“No.”
He looks puzzled by that. “Not even once?”
“No.” That’s all I dare say now.
Resolution crosses his face. “I’ve dreamed so many times of having you on your bed…”
Still holding me tight, he makes his way down the hall, his lips skimming up my neck, over to nip at my lobe, before dropping to nibble on my shoulder.
At the foot of my bed, he releases me to slide down his body. I feel every hard inch before my feet finally touch the hardwood floor.
Everything in this room looks exactly the way it did when I was a teenager. The walls and tufted headboard are similar shades of pristine white. My black-and-white polka-dotted sheets shout youth and happiness. The blush comforter with its coordinating lace-trimmed shams seem so innocent. The leopard pillow and bold chandelier break up all the sweetness with attitude.
This room was a perfect reflection of me. In many ways, it still is.
This is exactly where I want to make love to Hayden, too. None of my fantasies included him seducing me with the afternoon sun slanting through my window, tossing golden rays all over his strong face and lighting up the fire in his eyes. But this is way better than any shadowy midnight I envisioned.
