The Lakeshore Lounge was one of those rare bars in the city that offered an intimate atmosphere rather than a loud, intrusive one. Plush, comfortable chairs and sleek wood-top tables were situated far enough apart that patrons could enjoy their drinks in privacy, and a pale yellow glow took the place of bright lighting. It was also one of the only establishments that still adhered to a strict dress code—blazers required.
It was a damn good thing he was Brody Croft, though. Even better that Ward Dalton, the owner of the lounge, claimed to be his number-one fan and turned a blind eye to Brody’s casual attire when he and Hayden arrived.
Dalton led them across the black marble floor to a secluded table in the corner of the room, practically hidden from view by two enormous stone pots containing leafy indoor palms. A waiter clad in black pants and a white button-down appeared soon after, taking their drink orders before unobtrusively moving away.
Brody didn’t miss the baffled look on Hayden’s gorgeous face. “Something wrong?” he asked.
“No. I’m just…surprised. When you said we were going for a drink, I thought…” Her cheeks turned an appealing shade of pink. “Forget it.”
“You thought I’d drive you right back to your hotel and pick up where we left off?”
“Pretty much.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
She bristled at the teasing lilt of his voice. “I’m not disappointed. In fact, I’m glad. Like I said, I’m not interested in getting involved.”
He didn’t like the finality of her tone. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why Hayden didn’t want a repeat performance of last night. They’d been so good together.
He also couldn’t decide whether she’d known who he was all along. Her father was Presley Houston, for chrissake. She didn’t need to like hockey to know who the players were, especially the players on her own father’s team. And yet, the shock on her face when she’d bumped into him outside the locker room hadn’t seemed contrived. He’d glimpsed authentic surprise. Not to mention a flicker of dismay.
No, she couldn’t have known. It wouldn’t bother her this much if she had.
He appreciated that she liked the man and not the hockey player, but that only raised another question. What was holding her back from getting involved with him? Was it the fact that he played pro hockey, or was it something else? Someone else?
His jaw tightened at the thought. “What exactly is stopping you from pursuing this?” he asked in a low voice. “It’s more than Presley’s current problems, isn’t it?”
The way she stared at the silk cocktail napkin on the table as if it were the most fascinating item on the planet deepened Brody’s suspicions.
He narrowed his eyes. “Is there a husband waiting for you in California?”
Her gaze flew up to meet his. “Of course not.”
Some of the suspicion thawed, but not entirely. “A fiancé?” She shook her head.
“A boyfriend?”
The blush on her cheeks deepened. “No. I mean, yes. Well, kind of. I was seeing someone in San Francisco, but we’re currently on a break.”
“The kind of break where you can sleep with other people?”
“As I keep telling you, my life is complicated,” she said pointedly. “I’m in the process of making some serious decisions, figuring out what my future looks like.”
He opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by the waiter, who returned with their drinks. The waiter set down Brody’s gin and tonic and Hayden’s glass of white wine, then left without delay, as if sensing something was brewing between them.
“And this boyfriend,” Brody said thoughtfully. “Do you see him in your future?”
“I don’t know.”
Her tentative answer and confused frown were all he needed. He wasn’t an asshole; if Hayden had expressed deep love for the other man in her life, Brody would’ve backed off. But the fact that she hadn’t answered a definite yes to his question told him this was fair game.
And nothing got him going more than a healthy bout of competition.
He lifted his gin and tonic to his lips and took a sip, eyeing her over the rim of his glass. Fuck, despite the modest outfit, she looked unbelievably hot. He could see the outline of her bra beneath the white silk of her shirt, and the memory of what lay beneath it sent a jolt of electricity to his groin.
“We’re not doing it again,” she said between gritted teeth, obviously sensing the train of thought his mind had taken.
He laughed. “Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself of that.”
Frustration creased her features. “We had sex, Brody. That’s all.” She took a sip of wine. “It was amazing, sure, but it was only sex. It’s not like the damn earth moved.”
“Are you sure about that?”
He pushed his chair closer, so that they were no longer across from each other, but side by side. He saw her hands shake at his nearness. Her cheeks flushed again, her lips parting. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see she was aroused. And, damn, but he liked knowing his mere proximity could get this woman going.
“It was more than sex.” He dipped his head and brushed his lips over her ear. She shivered. “It was a sexual hurricane. Intense. Consuming.” He flicked his tongue against her earlobe. “I’ve never been that hard in my life. And you’ve never been wetter.”
“Brody…” She visibly swallowed.
He traced the shell of her ear with his tongue, then moved his head back and lowered his hand to her thigh. He felt her leg shaking under his touch. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Fine,” she grumbled. “You’re right. Happy?”
“Not quite.” With a faint smile, he slid his hand under the soft material of her skirt. Running his knuckles against the damp spot on her panties, he gave a brisk nod and murmured, “Now I’m happy.”
Hayden’s focus darted around like a Ping-Pong ball, as if she expected their waiter to pop up in front of them any second. But the table was well secluded, and nobody could approach it without entering Brody’s line of sight. He took advantage of the privacy, cupping Hayden’s ass and gently shifting her so that her body was more accessible. He dragged his hand between her legs again, pushing aside the crotch of her panties and stroking her damp flesh.
The soft sounds of people chatting at neighboring tables excited the hell out of him. He was no stranger to sex in public, but he couldn’t say he’d ever pleasured a woman in an upscale bar where any minute he could get caught.
A sharp breath hissed out of her mouth as he rubbed her clit in a circular motion. “What are you doing?” she whispered.
“I think you know exactly what I’m doing.”
He continued to boldly rub her clit, then danced his fingertips down her slick folds and prodded her opening with the tip of his index finger. The wetness already pooling there made his cock twitch. He wanted nothing more than to shuck his suit pants and thrust into that wet paradise. Right here. Right now. But he wasn’t that bold.
“We should stop,” she murmured, but her body said otherwise.
Her thighs clenched together, her inner muscles squeezed his finger and a soft moan slipped out of her throat.
“You’ll come if I keep doing this, won’t you, Hayden?”
He looked from her flushed face to the neighboring table, several feet away and barely visible through the palm fronds separating the two tables. He hoped to hell the couple seated at that table hadn’t heard Hayden’s moan. He didn’t want this to end just yet.
“Brody, anyone can walk by.”
“Then you’d better be quick.”
He pushed his finger into her core, smiling when she bit her lip. The look on her face drove him wild. Flushed, tortured, excited. He was feeling pretty excited himself, but he managed to get a handle on his own rising desire. He’d pressured her to spend the evening with him because he had something to prove, and what he wanted to prove wasn’t that he was dying for a second go, but that she was dying for it.
Applying pressure to her clit with his thumb, he worked another finger inside her, pushing in and out of her in a deliberate lazy rhythm. His mouth ached with the need to suck on one of her small pink nipples, but he tightened his lips before he gave in to the urge and tore her shirt open. Instead, he focused on the heat between her thighs, the nub that swelled each time he brushed his thumb over it and the inner walls that clamped over his fingers with each gentle thrust.
Keeping one eye on Hayden’s blissful face and the other on his surroundings, he continued to slide his fingers in and out, until finally she let out a barely audible groan and squeezed her legs together. He felt her pulsing against his fingers and resisted a groan of his own as a soundless orgasm consumed her eyes as well as her body.
She came silently, trembling, biting her lip. And then she released a sigh. Her hands, which at some point she’d curled into fists, shook on the tabletop, making her wineglass topple and spill over the side of the table.
He quickly withdrew his hand as Hayden jumped at the startling sound of the glass rolling and shattering on the marble floor. Her sudden movement caused her knee to hit one of the table legs, making the table shake and the ice cubes in his drink collide into the side of the glass with a jingling sound.
From the corner of his eye Brody saw the waiter hurrying over, and yet he couldn’t fight a tiny chuckle. Turning to meet Hayden’s dazed eyes, he laughed again, swiftly fixed her skirt and said, “Still want to tell me the earth didn’t move?”
