BRODY: Can’t wait to see you tonight.
A warm flush spread across Hayden’s cheeks as she read Brody’s message. She was glad she was alone so nobody could see how hard she was blushing. Although when her dad said he’d send a car to drive her to the charity event, she thought he meant a regular car. Instead, she was sitting in a limousine by herself. Which was a little much, but not a surprise. And it gave her all the privacy she needed to text with Brody, as she’d been doing for the past five days.
He’d left for Colorado the morning after the Gallagher party and had been there all week, so tonight would be her first opportunity to see him again. She couldn’t wait, either. She just wished it didn’t have to be at another one of her dad’s stuffy team events.
HAYDEN: Don’t forget—we’re not supposed to know each other.
HAYDEN: But me too.
Three dots appeared to indicate he was typing again.
BRODY: I missed you.
Don’t say it back, a stern voice ordered.
Right. Saying it back was not a wise move. This was a fling. You weren’t supposed to be missing your fling partner as much as she’d missed Brody this week.
HAYDEN: Missed you too.
Oh, God. This was bad. She needed to get herself in check before she got too attached to the man.
The limo came to a stop, but rather than get out, she quickly gave her appearance one last look in the lighted mirror. Her crimson lipstick was the perfect dash of color against her curve-hugging black gown.
“We’ve reached our destination, ma’am,” the driver announced, and a moment later he was opening the door for her.
She stepped out, gazing at the beautiful venue with its marble columns lining the front entrance. Wow. She didn’t know if she’d ever seen so many giant windows on a building, and her artistic eye instantly recognized the way the light inside the windows illuminated the smooth white exterior. For the first time in a long time, she felt the urge to paint. It startled her.
A woman in a navy pantsuit greeted Hayden when she walked into the entryway. She hadn’t brought a coat, so there was nothing to check, and the woman directed her toward an enormous arched doorway across the lavish lobby.
Hayden adjusted her evening gown as she entered the grand ballroom where the charity gala was being held. The room buzzed with conversations and the clinking of glasses, and she could feel the weight of the evening ahead as she made her way through the sea of people. She was painfully aware of the scrutinizing gazes that followed her every move. As the daughter of the team owner, she was always under the watchful eyes of the public whenever she attended these events.
God, she was so sick of this shit. If she’d known how this extended visit would turn out, she would’ve just agreed to teach that summer course on the Impressionists. In the three weeks she’d been in Chicago, she’d barely seen her father. Unless it was time for another fancy party—then he was suddenly more than eager for her company.
“Sweetheart!”
Her father stood near the bar with a group of his colleagues, his face lighting up at the sight of her.
She couldn’t help wondering if he was faking that happy expression. God knew he hadn’t been happy to see her last week at the Gallagher Club. She’d tried making plans with him since then, but he’d canceled both their scheduled lunches, claiming to be too busy with the playoffs.
The more time that passed, the less optimistic she was about reconnecting with the father she’d once adored.
She took a deep breath and approached him, a forced smile on her face. “Hi, Dad,” she greeted him, attempting to sound casual.
“Ah, Hayden! Perfect timing. Let me introduce you to Rita,” he said, gesturing to one of the women in the small group. “Rita is the chair of the foundation we’re raising money for tonight.”
After seven years of being a team owner’s daughter, Hayden had perfected the art of small talk. For the next twenty minutes, she exchanged pleasantries and engaged in bland conversation, all the while fidgeting with the stem of her champagne glass and stealing glances at her father, who seemed more concerned with his colleagues than with her presence.
She was chatting with Stan Gray, the Warriors’ head coach, when the room’s atmosphere shifted subtly. Maybe it was the murmurs from another group to their right, consisting of several women in their twenties, but Hayden found herself glancing toward the arched entrance.
Sure enough, Brody had just entered.
His presence was magnetic. And his sharp gray suit accentuated every hard line of his tall, broad body. He stood several inches taller than all the men in his vicinity. His head shifted as he scanned the room. Hayden’s heart skipped a beat when their eyes met.
“Ah,” her father said, noticing Brody’s arrival. “There’s Croft and Jones.” He raised his hand to wave them over.
A moment later, Brody was in front of her. His blue eyes once again met hers, a mischievous twinkle hidden in their depths.
“Hayden, right?” he said easily.
She nodded. “Yup. And you’re… Brady?”
“Brody,” he corrected, his lips twitching with humor. “It’s good to see you again.”
Brody’s teammate, who introduced himself as Derek Jones, kept stealing looks at Hayden, his gaze dipping to her cleavage. “You’re Mr. Houston’s daughter?” he said.
“I am. And you’re a rookie this season?”
“Sure am. And killing it.” Jones’s boyish smile triggered a smile of her own.
“Good to hear,” she said, patting him on the arm. Man, the kid’s biceps were bigger than her thigh.
The conversation continued, but Hayden had a hard time concentrating with Brody standing so close to her. Why did he have to smell so fucking good?
“Brody, can we get a quick photo?” one of the event photographers called out.
Brody glanced over. “Of course.” He turned back to Presley and the others. “Excuse me. This will be just a moment.”
The quick photo turned into ten minutes of pictures, including several shots with a swimsuit model in attendance. The girl was tall, blond and had huge boobs accentuated by the plunging vee of her red dress. She and Brody, both ridiculously attractive, looked good together, and Hayden felt her shoulders stiffening as the thought registered.
She forced her muscles to relax. Nope. She refused to be jealous. So what if he had his arm around a beautiful model? He wasn’t her boyfriend.
When he returned, Brody surprised her by extending a hand to her. He spoke in a polite tone. “Would you like to dance?” He gestured to the shiny floor in the center of the room. Large tables adorned with ornate centerpieces ringed the dance floor.
“Oh.” She hesitated, aware of her father’s sharpening gaze. “Um. Sure.”
They kept about three feet of distance between them as they left the group. Walking to the dance floor, Hayden could feel her father’s disapproving eyes on them the entire time. Brody, however, seemed unfazed.
“Behave,” she warned under her breath.
He held out his hand. “Where’s the fun in that?”
A hint of a smile played on her lips. Then she took his hand, while raising her other one to his broad shoulder.
His palm rested loosely over her hip as he pulled her closer, his voice a low whisper against her ear. “Think they can tell I want to fuck you senseless right now?”
Her pussy clenched. “Oh, my God. Don’t say things like that.”
“Why? Does it turn you on?”
“Obviously,” she hissed, and he chuckled in response.
Hayden sighed, her fingers tracing circles on his back. The dimly lit ballroom provided some cover, but the watchful eyes of reporters and curious onlookers made her tread carefully.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice, by the way,” Brody said in amusement.
“Notice what?”
“The way you were looking at me and Bella Dawson.” He quirked a brow. “Jealousy looks cute on you, Professor.”
“I was not jealous,” she grumbled.
“Liar.”
“Ha. I think you want me to be jealous. For your ego.”
“Want to know what I think?” Brody’s lips dipped near her ear again.
“Even if I said no, I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway.”
“Obviously,” he mimicked. He spun her around, then wrapped his arm around her waist again. “I think—” he gave her another spin “—you should meet me in the supply closet next to the coat check room in…let’s say ten minutes?”
Hayden narrowed her eyes. “How do you know there’s a supply closet there?”
“How do you think? I scouted it out before I walked in here.”
She laughed, but the humor transformed into a jolt of heat when she saw the look in his eyes. “Oh, you’re being serious.”
“As a heart attack.” His gaze was practically molten. “I haven’t seen you all week. I need to be inside you.”
Her thighs involuntarily clenched. “And you can’t wait until later?”
“Can you?” he challenged.
The hungry eyes raking over her triggered another rush of desire. The ache between her legs deepened. Her nipples beaded against the bodice of her dress, which wasn’t ideal considering she wasn’t wearing a bra. Brody, of course, was quick to notice.
“Fuck. I can see your nipples.” He let out a husky groan. “Ten minutes?”
Hayden knew she ought to say no. They were at a Warriors event. Her father might notice her absence if—she almost snorted at the thought. No, her father would not notice. He was so absorbed with himself and his team that he wouldn’t have any idea if she left this gala and never returned.
“Ten minutes,” she blurted out.
With a grin, he released her, and they headed in opposite directions. Hayden went back to her father, while Brody joined a group of Warriors players. She noticed one of them eyeing her. A tall man with rugged features and dark hair. She recognized him from last night’s playoff game against Colorado. She didn’t remember his first name, but his surname was Becker. And she could swear he was frowning when their gazes briefly met.
The next eight minutes ticked by interminably slow. Hayden’s pulse was racing, her feet eager to sprint toward the exit.
But she played it cool as she lightly touched her father’s arm and said, “I need to use the ladies’ room. Be right back.”
Rather than take the corridor that led to the restrooms, she turned the corner and headed toward coat check instead. Her heart pounded faster with each step, and by the time she reached the door marked Supplies, it was careening out of control. She glanced around the hallway making sure it was still empty, then pushed on the handle and crept into the cramped space.
A second later, a warm, greedy mouth found hers in the darkness. She gasped in surprise, but it was impossible to resist Brody Croft. In a heartbeat, she was kissing him back, her tongue eagerly chasing his into his mouth. He tasted like mint and the gin he’d been drinking tonight, and he smelled like pure heaven. Spicy and masculine. Addictive.
“Lock the door,” she mumbled against his lips.
He backed her against it, one hand fumbling with the lock, while the other grasped the hem of her dress and dragged it upward.
Hayden shivered when her bare legs were exposed to the air. She inhaled deeply, breathing in the faint odor of cleaning supplies and the intoxicating scent of the man who was determined to drive her crazy.
“We have to be fast,” she whispered.
He slipped his hand between her thighs. “I can be fast.”
Kissing her again, he eased her skimpy thong down her legs and then shoved it in his pocket before reaching for his zipper.
“How do you want me?” Her voice shook with lust.
“So obedient.” With a quiet chuckle, he grasped her waist and turned her around so she was facing away from him. “Hands on the wall.”
She lay her palms flat against the cool cinder blocks, shivering again when she felt the fabric of her dress bunching around her waist. Her bare ass was on display now, and Brody wasted no time stroking one big hand over it.
“I wish I could take my time with you,” he muttered.
So did she. But there was something thrilling about knowing they had to be fast. That someone could be walking down the corridor at this very moment. That a knock might come on the door. That someone might hear the anguished moan that escaped her lips when Brody’s hand disappeared.
“Don’t stop touching me,” she begged.
“Just putting on a condom.”
He made her wait five, six seconds tops, but by the time he brought his dick to her aching pussy, she was practically sweating with impatience. When she felt his tip pressing against her opening, she moaned again.
Brody’s mouth was suddenly by her ear. “You’re going to have to be quiet.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Try.”
She tried. She really did. But when he plunged inside her without warning, the moan that escaped her throat was hoarse with pleasure. Chuckling, Brody stilled his hips and reached up to cover her mouth with his palm.
“Moan into this,” he whispered.
And she did, her breathy, muffled moans heating his palm as he fucked her from behind in fast, deep strokes. She’d never done anything like this before. It was dangerous and borderline foolish, but so damn exciting she couldn’t stop herself from pushing her ass back against Brody, trying to take him as deep as she could.
The feel of him inside her was too fucking good. They fit together so well. He knew it, too, because he dropped his chin on her shoulder and growled at her ear.
“You take me so good, Hayden.” He slowed the tempo for a moment, fucking her nice and slowly, making her squirm with anticipation for each thrust. “I can’t get enough of you.”
She couldn’t get enough, either. Her clit felt tight and swollen, and she brought her hand between her legs to stroke it. Brody noticed and groaned softly.
“Fuck. Yes. Get yourself close. I want to feel you squeezing my cock when you come.”
It didn’t take long at all for her to get there. With his fingers digging into her left hip and his cock buried deep inside her, Hayden’s entire body clenched as release surged through her. She had to stop herself from crying out, biting the side of Brody’s hand instead.
He cursed and fucked her harder, his hips snapping forward, his breath hot against the nape of her neck. “Coming, baby,” he mumbled, and she clenched around him, knowing it would make him come harder.
They were both breathing hard as they recovered from their respective orgasms. Hayden almost wept from the loss when he slid out of her. She watched as he disposed of the condom in a nearby trash can, then grabbed a handful of paper towels from one of the metal shelves and gave them to her.
She winced as she wiped up with the scratchy paper, but she couldn’t go back out there with wet spots all over her dress. She quickly smoothed the hem and put herself back together, smiling wryly when she noticed Brody grinning at her.
“What?” she said.
“You are the hottest woman on the planet.”
Her cheeks warmed. “Hardly.”
“Totally.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and bent down to kiss her. “The fucking hottest.”
Her pulse sped up. She’d been complimented plenty of times before in her life, but the appreciation glimmering in Brody’s blue eyes hit on a different level. She loved the way this man looked at her. Loved the way she was able to turn him on so deeply by doing nothing at all.
“I’ll go out first,” she said as she unlocked the door. “Wait a couple minutes before following?”
He nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
Licking her dry lips, Hayden turned the knob and inched the door open, trying to get a better look at the hallway. She couldn’t see much, but there were no voices out there, so she decided to chance it.
She was just closing the door behind her when someone turned the corner. It was Brody’s teammate Becker.
Hayden froze, but she recovered quickly. They’d never actually been introduced, so she simply nodded in greeting. He nodded back, but there was no mistaking the steel in his eyes. He glanced past her at the word Supplies that was written on the door she’d just walked out of, then flicked his cool gaze back at her.
She gulped and straightened her shoulders, pretending nothing was amiss. She’d just come out of the supply closet, no big deal.
Plastering a smile on her face, she murmured a soft, “Hello,” and then strode past him, her heels clicking on the hallway floor.
But she could still feel his disapproving gaze on her as she walked away.
