Page 91 of Risking the Pucking Defense

I catch his hand before he can pull it all the way back.

My heart is like a runaway train in my chest, and I pray that Hayden can’t feel the tremor in my hand. So far, he’s shown me that he’s nothing like the men of my past, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to let him see me weak and vulnerable.

He continues to hover on his knees, his eyes bouncing between mine as he waits.

My gaze drops to his mouth, and I watch as his tongue sweeps across his bottom lip.

Gently, I tug his hand, pulling him closer.

He catches himself with his other hand on the back of my couch, his huge body looming over my much smaller one. His fresh man scent fills my nose, and his green eyes darken until they’re almost black.

I don’t think I’ve ever truly been wanted in the way that Hayden wants me, and it’s a rush I shouldn’t be getting this addicted to.

What we’re doing…it’s wrong.

We’re putting everything at risk. But…

For the first time since moving to LA, I’m willing to let go of the tight control I have on every aspect of my life.

And with Hayden gazing down at me the way he is, it keeps the fear at bay. He’s going to take care of me, I just know it.

“Hailee?” he rasps, the roughness of his voice vibrating through me.

“Hayden,” I counter, the word coming out breathy and needy.

He leans closer, his scent getting stronger as my heart slams against my ribs.

“Tell me what to do,” he demands quietly, following my rules, and fuck, if it isn’t a rush.

My breathing is erratic, my body burning with need.

“Kiss me,” I whisper. “Kiss me just like you did in the⁠—”

His lips land on mine, stealing the words straight from my mouth.

My free hand lands on his waist, pulling him closer as his tongue glides against mine, reminding me just how it felt to be consumed by him in that closet earlier today.

I couldn’t allow him to be alone in that moment. And while it might have been the wrong decision professionally, personally, being able to lift him up when he was drowning meant everything to me.

Fire licks through my veins as he deepens our kiss. His fingers slip from mine in favor of sliding his palm down my side.

“Your shirt is wet,” he murmurs without pulling his lips from mine as if he’s just remembering how we ended up like this.

“Take it off then,” I breathe, desire sitting heavy between my thighs.

His eyes pop open as he sits up a little.

“It’s wet, Hayden. Take it off,” I say again.

“Shit. Yeah. I’m sorry, I made a mess,” he says, his fingers fumbling to grasp the fabric around my waist.

“Are you?” I tease, bringing his gaze back to mine.

“Um…” A smirk spreads across his lips. “No, not really.”

Laughter erupts as he peels the wet fabric up my body, leaving me in my black lace bra.

“Fucking hell,” he groans, his eyes wide as he takes me in.