Asking for Trouble Page 11

  When Daniel finally pulled up outside the Borgata hotel and casino, she’d practically dived from the still-rolling vehicle to escape Brent, ignoring the deep chuckle behind her. Oh, but it hadn’t ended there. Fortunately, the check-in line had been short. Unfortunately, her room and Brent’s room were separated only by an adjoining door. It never occurred to her, in a hotel this size, that such a coincidence was possible, so she’d made it all the way to her room, Brent one step behind her, before realizing it. He’d whistled as he unlocked his door, sending her a sly wink as the door slowly closed.

  Her insanely hot response to Brent concerned her. Big-time. This weekend would be twice as difficult as she’d imagined it would. At worst, she’d pictured them fighting. Maybe needling each other a little harder than usual. Brent obviously had other plans. He didn’t appear satisfied to part ways after one night. She lifted the hair off her neck and blew out a breath. Apparently her body had sided with Brent. And, damn him, he knew it.

  What he didn’t know? When this weekend was over, she might very well agree to marry someone else. She needed to put an end to this thing between them. One more slipup and it could easily turn into a habit. Into something that clouded her decision-making process. Her judgment. If she married Stuart, happy or not, she would be 100 percent committed to him. It didn’t matter that it was a business arrangement. There wouldn’t be anyone else once she agreed to be his wife. If she allowed herself more time with Brent, agreeing to marry someone she felt zero attraction for would be twice as difficult.

  Hayden’s cell phone buzzed in her purse, interrupting her dark thoughts. Her mother. “Hello.”

  “Where are you? I’m standing outside your house.”

  She sat at the edge of the bed and kicked off her sandals. A cold shower was definitely in order. “I’m with Story in Atlantic City.”

  A long pause. “Is he there?”

  “Who?” Hayden played dumb. “Daniel? Yes. Where one goes, the other follows.”

  Her mother made an impatient noise. “You know to whom I’m referring. Based on your evasion, I assume he is there.” A pregnant pause. “Honestly, you couldn’t pick someone more discreet to have one final fling with?”

  Hayden straightened. “I haven’t made my decision regarding Stuart yet.” She unzipped her bag, drew out her toiletry bag. “And you’ve only met Brent once. I doubt you can vouch for his ability to be discreet.”

  A snort. “Oh, please. He’s a loud, ill-mannered cop who moonlights as a grease monkey. Frankly, it’s embarrassing.”

  She felt a flash of annoyance, followed quickly by the startling realization that her mother wasn’t saying anything she hadn’t said herself about Brent in the past. Her shoulders slumped under the weight of that thought. “Actually, he’s working two jobs because he helps support his brother’s family. Plus, his sister in college. Which is kind of…well, it’s pretty damn amazing. And he certainly won your friends over the other night. It’s not fair to call him ill-mannered.” Unbelievable. She’d just defended Brent.

  A long-suffering sigh. “I’m going to let you go now. But Hayden, if and when you decide to make the right decision, do make sure Brent knows where he stands. We wouldn’t want any loose ends.”

  After the line went silent, Hayden stripped her dress over her head. Now she needed a shower not only to cool her heated skin, but also to wash away the conversation she’d just had with her mother. She padded to the bathroom, stopping short when she heard two men’s voices coming from Brent’s room, one belonging to Daniel. After the briefest hesitation, she opened the door on her side and pressed her ear against the smooth, cool wood.

  “Danny, sit down.” Brent’s baritone voice. “You’re making me dizzy.”

  “You think she’ll say yes?”

  “I don’t know…” Brent answered, and Hayden frowned. Perhaps she’d been too quick to defend him. Whatever Daniel planned on asking Story, she had a pretty strong feeling the answer would be yes. “I figure you’ve got about a fifty-fifty shot.”

  “Be serious, dick. I’m about to propose here. Me. What would you have said if I’d told you that six months ago?”

  Daniel was going to propose? Hayden’s hands flew up to cover her thrilled smile.

  “Six months ago? I’d have told you to seek medical attention immediately because you’ve received a concussion.”

  “Exactly. I haven’t had a lot of time to work myself up for this. I never thought…” He trailed off. “I never let myself think this could happen for me.”

  A deep sigh from Brent. “You’re really going to make me say this Oprah bullshit out loud, aren’t you?” She couldn’t make out Daniel’s muffled reply. “Listen. Story is going to say yes. Why? Because no one in this world loves her more, or knows her better than you. And she knows it. It’s all over her face when she looks at you. She found her soul mate.”

  At the unexpected sincerity from Brent, Hayden’s throat constricted. Her eyes filled with moisture. She could practically see both men shifting uncomfortably in the next room and it only touched her more.

  “I hope you’re happy. Now I have nothing left for my best man toast at the wedding.”

  Daniel cleared his throat. “I haven’t asked you to be my best man.”

  “You will.”

  “Yeah. I know.” She heard some shuffled steps, then Brent’s hotel room door opening. “Thanks, man. See you at dinner.”

  “I’m so going to order the manliest fucking steak on the menu to make up for this.”

  The door closed on Daniel’s laughter. Hayden stayed very still with her ear pressed to the door, absorbing what she’d just heard. It was more than just a profound moment between two friends. She’d already been sliding down her mountain of judgment concerning Brent. First when he’d apologized at the dinner party for not preventing an encounter between her and Stuart. Then again this afternoon, seeing him with his nieces. Learning about his daily sacrifice to support his family. For months, she’d thought of him as nothing more than an irreverent jackass. She’d clearly been wrong. But it was too late to matter.

  Before the depressing thought could fully form, the adjoining door opened and she tumbled forward into Brent’s room. He caught her just before she could face-plant at his feet.

  “Eavesdropping, duchess?” His laughter died in his throat when he saw she wore only a strapless bra and panties. His entire demeanor changed from playful to sexually charged in an instant. Muscles tensed, his cheekbones flared red. Swiftly, her body responded to his, sensing the one who could satisfy it. How could she resist this when her brain had so little control?

  She must. Her feelings toward Brent were rapidly transforming into something she hadn’t anticipated. Being intimate with him would only muddle her brain further. She wouldn’t be able to sleep with this fiercely passionate man and then marry someone who paled in comparison. It would make performing her duty to her family unbearable. It would wreck her.

  Grasping her tenuous resolve like a lifeline, she tried to skirt past him toward her room. She’d made it to the door when one large hand appeared above her and pushed it closed with a click. Tension-filled seconds ticked by. Hayden stood frozen, except for the increasingly fast rise and fall of her chest. When she felt Brent move closer, his muscular chest brushing her back, she bit her lip to hold in a whimper. More than anything, she wanted to press back into him, move her naked skin against his clothes. Entice him with a twist of her hips on his lap. Instead, she squeezed her eyes closed and remained still. Even knowing Brent would let her, she couldn’t make herself open the door and return to her room. She simply didn’t have that kind of willpower.

  “Did I get you all revved up on the ride here?”

  Her breath escaped in a rush when Brent’s hand skimmed over her hip and came to a rest on her belly, brushing the skin with work-roughened fingertips. Every inch of her body had become so painfully aware of him that she couldn’t draw air into her lungs.

  “Are you here to make
me pay for the bad words I said to you?”

  A sound fled her lips, arousal and surprise mixed together. She hated that he knew exactly what to say. Exactly how to make himself irresistible to her. She also craved it. No one had ever understood so thoroughly what she needed. All without an ounce of judgment.

  Suddenly, as if something snapped inside him, he lifted her high against the door, levering her there with his hips pressed snugly into her bottom. He worked his bulging erection between her thighs and pushed up hard. Hayden’s tiptoes barely skimmed the ground. She had no choice but to brace her palms against the door and relish the unleashed power behind her. All the while knowing he’d hand over control if she simply asked for it. “I have a few more bad words for you. Would you like to hear them?”

  “Yes.” The whispered word broke free before she could suppress it. Brent rewarded her by slowly grinding his hips into her, growling against her neck as she panted.

  He brushed her hair aside with one hand and scraped his teeth down the side of her neck. “You made this fucking sound, Hayden. The first time you spread your legs to take my cock. I hear it everywhere I go. This goddamn…moan? Sob? I don’t know. All I know is if I don’t fuck that sound out of you again soon, I’m going to completely lose my mind.”

  Every muscle in her body weakened, went languid. She pressed her forehead against the door in an attempt to anchor herself. Her body screamed at her to take this man inside her. Her reasons for staying away were fast beginning to dissipate from her mind.

  She opened her mouth to tell him to let her go. “Is there more?” came out instead.

  Brent’s pained laugh rumbled in his chest, sending goose bumps down along her arms. “Woman, I could go all day.”

  He worked himself against her, his jeans creating such incredible friction as they slid along her silk panties that Hayden couldn’t control the spreading dampness, the insistent pulsing that grew more demanding by the minute.

  “You loved it, didn’t you? Cuffing me? Riding me?” He waited for her shaky nod. “Good. You can tie me up and fuck me within an inch of my life, and I’ll just beg for more. But so help me God”—he thrust against her so hard her feet inched off the floor—“I’m going to have you just like this someday. I’ll surrender to you, over and over, but you’ll goddamn surrender to me when I ask. I want to be clear about that.”

  Her stomach muscles tightened, her chest shuddered as she sucked in a breath. “I guess we’ll see about that,” Hayden said, fully aware she was playing a dangerous game, but too drugged with arousal to care. She tossed her head back onto his shoulder. As if anticipating her move, his mouth met hers in an all-out battle of lips and tongue. He groaned into her mouth as they fought for control. She circled her bottom on his erection, his hands gripping and guiding her. Setting the pace.

  One big hand traveled over her hip to slip down the front of her panties. Adept fingers found her clitoris and massaged, drawing on her dampness to make her slippery.

  “Let’s end this game now.” He shoved two big fingers inside her, crooked and rotated them until she cried out. “You need my cock here. Twice a day.” He kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue deep. “I’m a big man, Hayden, and I fuck twice as long, and twice as hard. You’ll get used to it. And then you won’t be able to stand in the same room as me without wanting a ride.”

  His thumb found her clitoris once more and applied a perfect amount of pressure. A whimper of pleasure stuck in Hayden’s throat. She struggled with the desire to let him release the tension he’d built inside her, give him relief in exchange. With her thighs shaking, her sex clenching, walking away now seemed impossible. Surely she wouldn’t survive it. But his words rang in her head, warning her that staying would be a mistake. Twice a day. You’ll get used to it. Brent was speaking in the long-term. This attraction between them was quickly graduating to something more serious and she couldn’t allow it. Once a man like Brent decided something or someone belonged to him, she pitied anyone who stood in his way. With her responsibilities weighing down on her shoulders, Hayden had to stop this or she would never be able to.

  “No, Brent. Stop.” When the words left her mouth she nearly broke down and cried. As she’d known he would, Brent ceased all movement as soon as her plea got through. He removed his hand slowly, reluctantly. It made her want to cry all the more. He let her slip down to the floor, but stayed flush against her back. She could feel every inch of him pressed against her and knew he had to be close to his breaking point. In that moment, she hated herself. Hated the obligations preventing her from exploring her intense physical yearning for this man.

  “Why, dammit?” He spoke hoarsely at her neck. “We want each other. Tell me why.”

  When Hayden answered, her throat felt so incredibly tight, it hurt to speak. “It’s complicated.”

  “Try again.”

  What could she say? I might marry someone else, someone for whom I feel nothing, in order to retain the wealth you so greatly resent? He would never understand. Furthermore, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell Story and Daniel, who would never let her go through with it. And to top it off, the news would ruin what should be a happy weekend for her friends.

  She reached for the doorknob. “I don’t want this. Stop trying to force something that isn’t there.”

  When he flinched at her use of the word “force,” she felt a painful surge of guilt. Thankfully, she was able to keep it hidden as she yanked open the door and entered her own room. She remained there with her back pressed up against the locked door for long moments, hearing no movement on the other side. Just as she pushed off, heading toward the bathroom, she heard something heavy crash and break in Brent’s room.

  Chapter Twelve

  As all four friends sat down at the round, candlelit table for dinner, an irritable Brent watched Hayden choose the seat farthest from him. He didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to care about what “complication” she’d been referring to earlier. In fact, the afternoon spent away from her had given him time to think.

  After he’d hurled the Yellow Pages at the wall, accidentally knocking the hotel phone across the room. Along with a coffeemaker.

  The girls had gone swimming at the hotel pool and he’d convinced Daniel to join him at the poker tables. Turns out, poker required you to sit quietly for hours on end, something that would normally make him break out in a cold sweat, but he had embraced it wholeheartedly after the scene with Hayden. While he’d waited for strangers to play their hands, he’d resolved to stay away from her. She’d fucked with him for the last time. If she ever decided to stop pretending they didn’t set each other on fire, she’d seriously have to woo his ass. And no, he didn’t care if that made him sound like a chick.

  Now, however, his raging thoughts simmered down from a mighty roar to a pitter-patter of little elves’ feet when he saw her in the flesh. All soft and glowing, dressed in her Vacation Hayden getup, he could think of nothing but how she’d looked that afternoon in her bra and panties, skin flushed from the way he’d dirty-talked her in the backseat. She’d fallen through his door looking like sex on a platter and he’d thought, Christmas came early. Guess I’ve been a good boy. They’d been seconds from soul-screaming, mind-blowing, hair-pulling sex. She’d kissed him. She’d worked her barely covered ass all over him, showing him what he was about to get. Then something he’d said caused her to put the brakes on.

  Something about her words, her actions afterward, continued to eat at him all afternoon. He hadn’t needed to see her face to see the conflict taking place in her. Her shoulders had been bunched, breathing erratic. Even her verbal parting shot didn’t strike him as convincing. So what the hell was the problem? It’s complicated. If he could go back in time, he’d ask her what the hell in this life isn’t complicated. Sure, they’d spent the first few months of their acquaintance as enemies. Could that be the extent of it?

  No, something else was in play. But as bad as he wanted to put a name to it, his pride wouldn’t a
llow it. He refused to interrogate her. She would have to come to him. He didn’t take her accusation of “forcing” himself on her lightly. He suspected she knew that, too.

  Determinedly, he tore his gaze from soft, glowing, light-blue-vacation-dress-wearing Hayden and gave his drink order to the hovering waitress.

  Across the table, Daniel stared into the candle’s flame in front of him, looking as though he might puke.

  Enough was enough. Since Story and Hayden were distracted pointing out menu choices to each other, Brent snapped his fingers in front of Daniel’s face.

  “Hey, shithead. Look alive,” Brent whispered harshly, giving him a disgusted look. “Honestly, I don’t even know you anymore. Since when do you worry about getting the girl? Grow a pair, man. You’re Daniel fucking Chase. He who gets the girl, remember?”

  Daniel gaped at him for a moment before rapping his fist on the table. “You know what? You’re right.”

  “You’ll have to be more specific,” Brent returned. “I’m right so frequently.”

  “About me. I get the girl.” He looked at Story, whose gaze connected with his at the same time, her mouth parting slightly at whatever she read there. “I’ll get my girl.”

  “Great, now that your pussy-whipped-ness is settled, let’s eat.”

  Brent spent the next half hour, as they drank wine and ate appetizers, doing his best not to stare at Hayden. She made it incredibly difficult when every once in a while, just when he thought she’d dismissed him completely from her mind, her increasingly heavy-lidded brown eyes would find him across the table, causing everything below his belt buckle to tighten. He thought of how her mouth would taste after drinking red wine. The red wine she continued to sip in such ladylike fashion. He knew better. If he took her mouth right now, she’d fight him for control. Dig her fingernails into him and rob him of sanity. He wasn’t the only one who felt this way. No, the more she relaxed and drank her wine, the more he saw. Not just desire. Vulnerability. The combination pummeled him.