There was a naked man in her bed.
Well, he’d been there the night before when they fell asleep after the gazillionth round of hot, mind-blowing sex. But it was odd waking up next to a naked stranger.
Stranger being the operative word because, despite how well she knew his body, Brody was essentially still a stranger to her. They’d barely exchanged a single important sentence last night aside from “Please don’t stop” and “I’m about to come, baby.” Between rounds, he’d held her against his warm, muscular body and they would either lie there quietly or lazily make out until the need built up again.
This morning, the heated whispers and soft moans of last night almost felt like a figment of her imagination.
Until the naked man beside her began to stir, reminding her that last night did indeed happen.
“Mornin’,” he mumbled, his lips curving in a smile when his gaze met hers.
“Morning.”
Hayden rolled over to slide away, but Brody wrapped one big arm around her and pulled her against him. Her ass was now pressed up against a very prominent erection.
“Don’t go yet,” he said, his body serving as a big spoon, curling around her smaller frame and making her feel dainty and safe.
“It’s almost nine,” Hayden told him. “We should get up.” In fact, she should’ve gotten up two hours ago. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept this late.
“Not yet.” His hand found her breast, caressing gently.
Despite herself, she pressed herself against his exploring fingers. After last night’s sex marathon, she was shocked she could still feel desire. But she did. The need was building again, throbbing between her legs.
Brody’s lips tickled her shoulder as he brushed a kiss over it. Then his voice grew rough. “I want to start my day with that noise you make when you come.”
Oh, my God.
Hayden took a breath, trying to ignore her pounding heart. “What noise?”
“It was like a cross between a gasp and a moan.” His hand teasingly moved down her body. “I want to hear it again. Will you let me?”
Who the fuck was this man? How was he so skilled at driving her this crazy?
She knew she ought to say no. This was supposed to be a one-night stand. It was time for him to go, damn it.
But…
“Yes,” she whispered.
What was the harm in just one more orgasm?
He slipped his hand between her thighs, once again proving how attuned with her body he truly was. Within minutes, he was stroking her to an orgasm that summoned a desperate noise from her lips, and as she shuddered against him, he chuckled in her ear and murmured, “Yeah. That’s what I wanted to hear.”
For a moment, Hayden forgot her name, her surroundings and the reason she’d brought this man home in the first place.
But as the aftereffects of pleasure wore off, reality slowly crept in.
She was expecting him to ask her to return the favor, but he simply rolled onto his back, grinning. “You good?” he asked lightly.
She managed a nod, then awkwardly climbed out of bed in search of some clothing. She grabbed the first thing she found—the filmy, flowery dress she’d worn to lunch with her dad on her first day back in town.
The white material was a bit too thin and required a bra, though, which she wasn’t wearing right now. As Brody sat up in bed, stretching those powerful arms over his head, his amused gaze fixed on her chest.
“I can see your nipples.”
“I know.” She sighed.
His gaze tracked her as she walked to the dresser where she’d left her phone. When she checked the screen, her uneasiness only heightened. She had several text messages from Doug, and two missed calls from her father.
“Hayden.” She heard a rustling sound behind her, turning to see a gloriously naked Brody approaching her. Lord, even his abs had abs. “You sure you’re good?”
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “But you should probably go. I have a ton of stuff to do today.”
He nodded slowly. “All right. Any idea where my clothes might be?”
Her lips twitched. “Somewhere out there,” she said, waving a hand toward the bedroom door. “Near the bar, I think.”
Chuckling, he strode toward the door, and she couldn’t help checking out his ass. Why was it so muscular? What on earth did he do for a living? She hadn’t thought to ask last night; she was too interested in other aspects of the man. Like his dick.
And she couldn’t ask him now, because then he’d think she was trying to get to know him and…she couldn’t go there. This was supposed to be a hookup. A one-night, no-strings encounter with the hot stranger from the bar. It was a bit too late to try to connect on a deeper level.
She found him in the living area of the penthouse, zipping up his pants. His smoky blue eyes appraised her as she slowly walked toward him.
“I want to see you again,” he said bluntly.
Hayden startled. “Oh.”
“Let me add your number to my contacts before I head out.”
She hesitated.
He lifted a brow. “Is that a problem?”
After a beat, she let out a breath. “Sort of.”
That got her a laugh.
“Look… Brody…”
“Oh. Wow.” Now both his eyebrows had soared.
“What?”
“I just know where this is going, and, well—” He shrugged. “Honestly never had it happen to me.”
She couldn’t stop a smile. “You’ve given this speech before, then?”
“More times than I’d like,” he admitted.
His honesty was refreshing. And he looked utterly edible standing there with his dark hair tousled from sleep and stubble shadowing his chiseled jaw.
But his hotness didn’t change her circumstances. Hayden hadn’t come home to start up a fling with a total stranger. She was here for her dad, plain and simple. To support him while her stepmother attempted to take what mattered most to him.
Presley’s soon-to-be ex was determined to squeeze him for every dime he had. And that was a lot of dimes. Though he’d spent most of his life coaching, Hayden’s dad had always dreamed of owning a team, a goal he’d finally reached seven years ago. Thanks to the substantial insurance settlement he’d received after her mom’s accident, and his wise investment in a pharmaceutical company that had made him hundreds of millions, he was able to purchase the Chicago Warriors franchise. Over the years he continued investing and building his fortune, but his main priority was the team. It was all he ever thought about, and that was what made coming home so difficult.
Her childhood had been chaotic. Traveling with her dad across the country for away games, living in Florida for two years when he’d coached the Aces to a championship victory, five years in Texas, three in Oregon. It was tough, but their close relationship had made the constant upheaval bearable. Her father had always shown an interest in her life. He’d listened while she babbled about her favorite artists. Taken her to countless museums over the years.
Now that she was an adult and he was busy with the team, he no longer seemed to care about making time to connect with her outside of the hockey arena. She knew other team owners didn’t get as involved as her father did, but his background as a coach seemed to influence his new position; he had his hand in every aspect of the Warriors, from drafting players to marketing, and he thrived on it, no matter how time-consuming the work was.
That was why three years ago she decided to accept the full-time position Berkeley offered her, even though it meant relocating to the west coast. She’d hoped the old absence-makes-the-heart-grow-fonder cliché might kick in and make her father realize there was more to life than hockey. It hadn’t.
But maybe this time would be different. Maybe now that his personal life was falling apart, her father would want to lean on her. She was home not only to see him through his divorce, but also in the hopes that they could finally reconnect.
“I had an amazing time last night,” she told Brody. She gave him a sheepish look. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”
His lips quirked.
“But I wasn’t looking for anything beyond one night,” she finished awkwardly. “I have too much going on these next couple of months.”
Brody continued to watch her, his expression unreadable.
She shifted in discomfort. “What?”
“I just can’t believe you’re going to deprive us of…that.”
He pointed in the direction of the hallway, where last night’s stupidly dirty encounter began.
Hayden fought a smile. “I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone else who will screw you on the hallway floor and give you carpet burn on your butt.”
His eyes went molten. “I don’t want someone else. I want you.”
She wasn’t allowed to look into those eyes anymore. They were liable to shatter her resolve.
“I’m sorry,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “I had a great time, but this isn’t happening again. I hope you understand.”
“You’re really not going to give me your number?” A trace of astonishment rang in his voice, and Hayden got a feeling he wasn’t used to rejection.
“Sorry.” She shrugged again.
After a beat, Brody started to laugh. “Shit. Don’t I feel humbled.”
Still chuckling, he wandered toward the credenza against the far wall in the living room. Hayden watched warily as he picked up a pen and started scribbling something on the small notepad next to it.
“What are you doing?”
“Leaving you my number.” He glanced over his shoulder. “In case you change your mind.”
He strolled back to her, running a hand through his hair and drawing her attention to his flexing biceps. God. Why was he so attractive?
“Thanks for a great night,” he said, his voice a bit gruff. Then he leaned in and pressed a light kiss to her cheek, surrounding her with his spicy, addictive scent.
Hayden forced herself not to inhale until he’d stepped back. “I’ll walk you out.”
