Asking for Trouble (2 page)

Hayden’s finger slid through the condensation on the side of her wineglass. “How do you know?”

“Know what?”

Her eyelids drew up slowly as if weighed down by arousal. “How do you know we’ll even make it to the bedroom?”

His mouth went dry. “Come again?”

“That would be the plan.”

As soon as the heat-inducing words left her mouth, Daniel and Matt returned with their round of drinks. Brent wanted to growl at his friends’ shitty timing. He and Hayden both retreated, him reluctantly leaning back in his chair, Hayden crossing those mysterious legs.
Damn.
Just how far was she willing to take this game? He might not like her, he might resent the hell out of her superior attitude, but he’d sure as hell love to find out once and for all what lay at the top of those stockings. No way would she let him get that far, though. Wouldn’t want his dirty, workingman’s hands on her perfectly toned thighs.

Would she?

Daniel’s chair scraped back, snapping him out of his thoughts. “She’s here.”

“Thank God,” he and Hayden muttered at the same time, followed by a mutual eye-roll.

Brent stood, unable to stop his sigh of relief when he saw Story walking toward them wearing a huge smile and waving in their direction. Daniel lifted her into a bear hug, then sat her down on his lap. Two months later, Brent could still hardly believe how fast and hard his womanizing best friend had fallen. If he wasn’t so damn happy for the guy, he would have groaned at the way Daniel couldn’t stop staring at the sunny, fedora-wearing blonde perched on his lap.

“You guys like the hat I bought on the way here?” Story looked between the guys and Hayden. “Am I hat girl?”

Hayden tilted her head. “You could definitely be hat girl. I’d like to see more options, though. Top hat, beanie…maybe the kind with the spinner on top?”

“A Mets hat,” Brent interjected.

Story laughed and stroked the back of Daniel’s neck. “So what are we doing tonight? Mexican food? I could drink my weight in sangria—”

Daniel shook his head, “My place.”

“Already? I just got here.” Story looked surprised, but when Daniel whispered something against her ear, she took a shaky breath and nodded. “Your place it is.”

“Brent, Matt, can you—” Daniel started.

“Don’t worry.” Brent gave Hayden a slow grin. “I’ll make sure Ms. Winstead gets home.”

Daniel didn’t wait for a response, taking Story’s hand and dragging her from the bar.

“Bye, guys!” Story called over her shoulder.

Hayden gave her friend a halfhearted salute, then refocused on Brent. “I’m not letting you drive me anywhere. You’ve been drinking.”

Brent held up the bottle so she could see the label. “Nonalcoholic.” He barely contained his laughter when her chin only went up another notch. “I don’t drink during the week.”

“Lucky me,” she said under her breath.

“That would be the plan.”

Hayden’s eyes widened as he tossed her words back in her face, right in front of Matt.

Matt not-so-discreetly checked his watch. “Damn, would you look at the time?” He pushed back his chair, then followed in Daniel and Story’s wake. “Try not to kill each other. I like this place.”

“You ready to call it a night, too?” Brent picked up his fresh beer and winked at Hayden. “Or do you want to keep going?”

“Call it a night?” She tossed her hair back over one shoulder. “We’re only getting started.”

Chapter Two

For the first time in history, she and Brent were alone. Voluntarily, that is. Normally at this stage, they would flee each other’s presence without bothering to make an excuse. Unless you counted a certain obscene gesture as an excuse.

Hayden’s pulse accelerated as Brent rose to his full height and rounded the table to occupy the chair beside her. Why were her palms sweating? They were only playing a game. Any minute now, Brent would give in and she’d be free to strut out of Quincy’s, reveling in her victory. That hot look in his eye, the one that continued to dip and linger on her exposed neckline, was all for show.

Right?

When he draped an arm over the back of her chair and leaned in close, she ignored the flutter in her stomach. It had to be the wine. Brent Mason did
not
give her flutters. He only gave her hives.

“So tell me,” he started, his voice taking on a deeper tone. “Assuming we didn’t make it to your professionally decorated bedroom, how far would we make it?”

She doused a flare of annoyance. He never let her forget her status, not for a second. Or that she’d done so little to earn it. “Something tells me a man like you can’t hold out long enough to make it past the entryway. Just wham-bam, let me get back to playing
Grand Theft Auto
, ma’am.”

“I prefer
Halo
,” Brent said in a tight voice. “And let’s be honest. The real reason you don’t want me in your bed is because I’ll sully your lily-white sheets.”

Okay, that stung a little. It had been a while since her sheets were sullied, but he didn’t know that. His comment proved he thought of her as a cold fish, too focused on appearances to feel anything, sexually or otherwise. Especially for a man without an exorbitant bank account.

No way would she back down now. It would have to be him.

It suddenly became clear how to accomplish that end. A caveman like Brent would need to be the aggressor in bed, no doubt. She would lay odds that he would cling to that macho image with both hands. Hayden almost laughed out loud. He wouldn’t be able to cling on to much of anything with both hands secured behind his back.

She turned in her chair, letting her knee rub along the inside of Brent’s thigh, doing an internal fist-pump when he sucked in a breath. “That’s not it at all, Brent. I just don’t like waiting.” Garnering her courage, she dragged her fingers up the inside of his arm. “You wouldn’t happen to have your handcuffs handy, would you?”

He dragged his heated gaze away from her fingers. “If you like being cuffed, I have no problem accommodating you, baby.”

“Actually,” she returned, drawing the word out, “I was thinking I would cuff
you
.”

She held her breath. Any minute now, he’d scoff at her request and this charade would be over. Funny, she wasn’t quite as ready to walk away as she had been moments ago. In fact, the thought of Brent’s big body, restrained by handcuffs, was surprisingly appealing. That fluttering in her stomach had graduated into a constant tug, confusing her further.

“Done.” Hayden hid her shock as Brent leaned close and spoke gruffly near her ear. “Be warned, though. If you take away the use of my hands, I’ll only make up for it with my mouth.”

“R-really?” Her voice sounded breathy to her own ears. It simply wasn’t possible that Brent was turning her on. She shouldn’t have drunk so much wine without eating a proper dinner. That was the only explanation for her body’s potent reaction to Brent’s words.

“Why does that surprise you, duchess?” His expression turned patronizing, but she could still see the desire kindling in his eyes, the way they fixated on her mouth. “You think because I don’t wear a suit to work, I haven’t learned how to pleasure a woman?”

A punch of heat reverberated through her system, layered on top of the indignation brought on by his jab. He couldn’t mean it. He didn’t give a damn about her pleasure. No, they were both simply playing the game. When it came time to put the handcuffs on, he would back down. No way would he put himself at his enemy’s mercy. “I guess we’ll find out if you’re capable of shutting up long enough to use your mouth for something worthwhile.”

“Will we?” He gripped her knees in his hands. “You going uncross these sexy thighs long enough to find out what I can do between them?”

As her heart began to pound out of control, it occurred to her that she might lose this battle. Brent didn’t appear any closer to caving, and they were drawing dangerously close to the end of the line. This conversation couldn’t continue in its current vein much longer without them leaving together. Judging from his expression, he still expected her to cry uncle. Clearly skeptical of her ability to follow through.

Time for a change of strategy.

She uncrossed her legs and stood, putting her breasts just beneath his line of vision. When his confident smile slipped a little, she swallowed a triumphant laugh. “I’m tired of talking about it.” Her fingers slipped through his hair and clutched tight. “Put up or shut up, big boy.”

“Big boy.” When Brent stood, his hard body dragged slowly over her curves, catching Hayden’s breath in her throat. “You have no idea. Think you can handle me?”

Could
she handle him? He didn’t look like the type to be
handled
by anyone. Least of all her, who could count her sexual partners on one carefully manicured hand. At least if it got that far—which it surely wouldn’t—she’d have a much easier time
handling
him if he didn’t have the use of his hands.

Throat tight and unable to issue a verbal response, Hayden turned and walked toward the exit in lieu of answering out loud. Brent’s heavy tread followed purposefully behind her, sending a shiver up her spine. With each step toward the door, she grew less and less sure of whether anticipation or nerves were the culprit.

They rode in silence on the crosstown drive from Quincy’s, although the tense atmosphere in Brent’s SUV spoke volumes. Her decision-making window was rapidly closing. It had been incredibly easy to talk a big game while sitting in Quincy’s. Now, however, her bravado was beginning to wane.

She let her gaze slide across the center console to inspect the man taking up well over his fair share of the SUV. Powerful thighs flexed beneath the steering wheel as he applied the brake. Defined arm muscles shifted as he took a right turn. His shoulders were so broad they bridged the console and nearly touched her own.

Most infuriating of all, a cocky, knowing smile played around his lips like he expected her to back out at any minute. If she admitted to bluffing him now, he would never let her live it down. She’d be doomed to see that shit-eating grin every time they met. Nope. Couldn’t let it happen. One way or another, the big guy was going down.

He eased his SUV to a stop outside Hayden’s town house and she pushed open the passenger-side door. “Are you coming in? Or are you afraid of losing he-man status by being cuffed by a girl?”

Brent’s forearm brushed her thighs as he reached for the glove compartment and popped it open. Hayden felt a simultaneous surge of arousal and panic when a silver pair of handcuffs were revealed. “One question. Is flash photography allowed on this ride?”

“Not unless you want a bloody stump for a hand.”

An amused smile lit his face. “I think in a matter of minutes, you’re going to be very glad I still have both hands. You might even change your mind about using those handcuffs.”

Her first instinct dictated she throw herself out of the vehicle and run screaming toward her house. Lock herself inside and watch reruns of
The Facts of Life.
But then an image of a shirtless Brent kneeling, hands cuffed behind his back, materialized in her mind. She felt another jolt of surprise when lust, hot and insistent, pooled in her tummy. In addition to shocking her, the heady response bred irritation. She hadn’t experienced the feeling in a long time, and the fact that her nemesis provoked it in her chafed.

Too late to turn back now.

“I won’t be changing my mind.” Hayden stuffed the handcuffs into her purse. “It’s too bad the NYPD doesn’t issue ball gags in addition to handcuffs,” she said, smiling brightly. “Not that your voice isn’t a seductive lullaby.”

“I haven’t had any complaints.”

“Then consider this your first.” Hayden exited the SUV, her heels
tapping
along the sidewalk. As she ascended the stone stairs leading to her front door, she felt him following behind her. She scanned the surrounding area, looking for her parents, who lived in the same neighborhood. If they saw her entering her town house with this swaggering hulk of a male, they would surely have some questions.

“Worried about being seen with me?” His jaw tightened and flexed. “Don’t worry, I’m sure your little lesson won’t take long.”

The jerk still thought she would back down from her own challenge. “It’s going to be over that fast, huh? Don’t worry, champ. It’s a very common problem among men. Happens to the best of them.”

She could practically feel the steam shooting from his ears. Smiling to herself, Hayden pushed the front door open and entered the dark foyer. The second the door closed behind her, Brent pushed her up against it, bracing himself with both arms on the door. Never having been this close to him before, she took a moment to absorb the jarring differences between them. His body, so incredibly hard and well-built, pressed against her softer, smaller frame. At least a foot taller than her, he would have to bend his knees to kiss her…or pick her up for their mouths to meet. Something needy shivered through her at the thought of him using all that strength on her. Even more tempting was the thought of leashing that power. Tempting it out of him.

“You’re testing my patience here, duchess,” he growled. “If you have any doubt about my ability to fuck the ever-loving sarcasm right out of you, I’ll be more than happy to clear it up.”

Hayden sucked in a breath. Until now, they’d been dancing around any talk of the main event, but he’d just put it in black-and-white terms. Was she willing to let it get that far? This wouldn’t be the kind of one-night stand you walked away from unscathed. If they took it to that level, she would be forced to see the knowledge of what they’d done written all over his arrogant face every time they were wrangled into spending time together.

“What’s wrong? Is this lesson you’re attempting to teach me over before it even began?” Patronizing laughter rumbled in his big chest. His hips pressed closer and she could feel his thick arousal. “Too bad. I thought I was finally going to solve the mystery tonight.”

“What mystery is that?” she asked against her better judgment.

“I’ve been wondering what it’ll take to wipe that self-satisfied expression off your face.” He bent down, let his mouth hover an inch above hers. “What gets you off, rich girl? Besides a shoe sale.”

with their bodies molded together, she ached for something she couldn’t name, his words burrowed even further under her skin. He found her vapid. Trivial. He thought she took her wealth for granted, when in reality, she spent every day of her life trying to deserve it. Prove herself worthy. And oftentimes…coming up short. He didn’t think she had the ability to feel anything? The need to prove him wrong, right then and there, shook Hayden to the soles of her feet. Her purse hit the floor with a thud.

She pushed higher on her toes, fusing her mouth to his. Brent’s body jerked, making her feel exultant. She’d caught him off guard. Her fingers wove their way through his hair and tugged hard to bring him closer. They nipped at each other’s lips, testing, seeking. He grazed her jaw with his teeth before returning to her mouth to taste her with thorough licks of his tongue, spiking heat through Hayden. Her hands dropped to his waist and urged him forward, wordlessly begging him to rub his erection against her belly. When he did so, once, twice, they both broke away on a groan. For a single second, they locked eyes, as if to say
oh shit
. Involuntarily, her attention dropped to his arousal, heavy and insistent between them.

Brent kept his gaze on her face as he worked himself against her. “I’ll let you ride it, duchess. And I’m going to keep your tongue busy in my mouth the whole time.” With one hand, he stripped his shirt off over his head, revealing his massive chest and rock-hard muscles. “That ought to keep the sarcasm at bay for a couple hours.”

Hayden shoved against him, but he didn’t budge. “What’s going to keep your ego at bay?” she asked through clenched teeth. “One more crack like that and you can go home to your bachelor pad and
self-satisfy
until the sun comes—”

He claimed her mouth once again on a growl. A single forearm curled under her bottom and lifted with so little effort, her thoughts went fuzzy, blurring her indignation into nothingness. His mouth moved, rough and demanding over hers, forcing her lips wide to receive rhythmic thrusts from his tongue. Hayden could only twine her arms around his neck and hold on as white-hot need poured through her in waves. She made a sound of protest in his mouth when she couldn’t get her lower body close enough. A throb drummed between her thighs and she ached to feel pressure there. When she communicated her desire for friction with a twist of her hips, he tried to wedge his hips between her thighs, but the tight material of her skirt wouldn’t allow it.

“Take it off, Hayden, or I rip it off.”

Brent’s rasped command at her neck brought her back down to earth. Just a little. If she took off her skirt, he would take her against the door.
Wham-bam, Grand Theft Auto, ma’am.
He’d whistle his way out the door, knowing exactly who had
handled
whom. Next time she saw him, he’d give her one of his signature winks and tell her to call him next time she needed a ride. She couldn’t let that happen. She’d instigated this for a reason. To show him how little he actually knew about her. To put a dent in his overblown ego. She needed to get the upper hand back. Now.

Hayden broke their kiss, let the corners of her lips edge into a sensual smile. “I think it’s about time we broke out those handcuffs.”