Between Breaths (The Seattle Sound Series Book 2) (12 page)

She
hadn’t, though. She’d never made any attempt to use our relationship for personal gain. If anything, she was as protective of me as I was of her.

I ran my fingers through my hair, down the back of my neck. Too many pieces of my life were rubbing up against each other.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. Briar stepped away from me, walking toward my suite. My eyes went back to her bum, the way it swayed in that dress. Perfection.

I hurried forward until we were side by side. I cupped her hip. My thumb rubbed up and down, loving the warmth emanating through the silk.

Stupid though I might be, I trusted her.

B
riar

O
nce we were back
in his room, Hayden turned on some music. It was soft, sensual.

“Want some bubbly?” he asked.

“Sure.”

He poured me a glass from the chilled bottle that sat next to the gleaming table. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth. I turned my head so our lips could fully meet, but he’d stepped back. Handing me the champagne flute, Hayden poured himself a glass.

“Want to go out onto the terrace?” he asked.

I nodded. He opened the door and motioned me through. I sipped my drink as I looked out over the sound just feet below.

He ran his hand up my back, stopping at the base of my neck. Tilting my chin up, he kissed me again. I deepened the kiss, loving the way his tongue slid across and over mine.

“I like this date,” I murmured.

“You’ll like it more before it’s over.”

“Promises, promises.”

Hayden chuckled. He took my glass and set it with his on a small metal table. Pulling me into his arms, he spun me before dipping me over his arm. His lips slid down my neck and over my collarbone. I shivered with need.

“I intend to deliver,” he said, his voice as luscious as the champagne, but darker, more sensual. He pulled me upright, his body fitting to mine. His far hand came to my waist and squeezed lightly.

I bit his earlobe as I pressed closer. He made a noise in the back of his throat before he dipped his head, capturing my lips, my mouth. For a man who’d never seduced a woman, he was damn good at it.

“Dance with me?”

I nodded again. Sure, he fed into many of my fantasies, but Hayden wanted this night as much as I did. Maybe more. In my short time with him, I quickly realized he didn’t get to be himself with many people, didn’t get to show this tender side that was so integral to his personality.

I pressed my lips together, tamping down the need to tell him how much he meant to me. In this moment, as he twirled me around the terrace, singing into my ear, my heart didn’t just melt. Hayden owned me.

His happiness had become mine. His needs, my needs. While I’d never considered myself a selfish person, my time here, with him, showed me again how little I let people into my life.

But Hayden wasn’t just in my life. He was in my soul. I loved him. Deeply, irreparably. I pressed closer, needing his warmth as I shivered from my revelations. He wasn’t ready. Not for my love, not for the responsibility of caring for my feelings.

I kissed him, let him drug me with his lips and teeth and tongue, desperate to feel his warm skin against mine. Desperate, once again, for our connection. This we shared. I couldn’t ask him for more. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

After our third dance, after many long, drugging kisses, Hayden pulled me back into the suite. He turned me so that I faced outward, our reflections clear in the glass. He stood behind me, his hand sliding slowly from my waist, up over my rib cage, my breast, my neck, cupping my chin and turning my head to meet his lips.

This kiss was softer, deeper, filled with more than simple passion. We’d met there and it was delicious. This . . . this was more.

I didn’t want the moment to end. I reached my arm up to hold his head closer to mine and moaned when the skin of my back touched his dress shirt.

“I need you, Hayden.”

“You have me, love.”

“I want you.”

“You’ll get me.”

“Now.”

This time he pulled back and chuckled. “Soon.”

I unzipped my dress and let it fall to my feet in a pool. His nostrils flared as his eyes traveled up from my heels, over my hips to my chest. “Now,” I demanded again.

He ran a finger across the top of my breast, up my neck, along my jaw. I quivered under him.

“Glad you had your nap, Sweet Briar. This need I feel, it’s going to take some time to satisfy.”

I stepped out of my dress, moved forward and unbuttoned his shirt. Spreading it wide, I peeled his undershirt up his belly, across those trim ribs. Dropping to my knees I pressed a kiss to his navel, my tongue darting out to taste him.

He hissed out a curse, and I glanced up at him from under my lashes. “I can help with that.”

He tossed his button-down on the couch and his T-shirt followed. I popped the button on his jeans, kissed him there on the tattoo that snaked along his hip. He cupped the back of my head, pressing my cheek against his stomach. I wrapped my arms around the back of his thighs, cradling his body as close as I could get it to mine.

“When I leave . . . ”

I turned my cheek, forcing his hand from my head. “I don’t want to talk about that now.”

“You should visit me. In Europe. I’ll take you to a castle.”

I unzipped his pants, my eyes greedy. “I’d rather you took me
in
a castle.” With a tug, I pulled his boxer-briefs down and wrapped my lips around the crown of his erection.

“We’ll figure out a way to make that happen,” he gritted.

I laved him, root to tip. He moaned, rocking his hips forward, his hands buried in my hair.

I made another pass, then another before finally drawing him into my mouth. He shuddered, throwing his head back. He matched my pace, his control unraveling. I sucked harder, faster, and he lost control.

His hands fisted in my hair, holding me where he wanted me as he thrust into my mouth. My hand rested on his thigh, the other moving to cup his sac. He groaned, his balls tightening. And he came in thick, long spurts that wracked his body.

His hands eased in my hair, and I swallowed, drawing back, kissing his tip. He caught me under my arms and pulled me tight against his body, his hand at the base of my spine. I liked the feel of him there, spanning my back, pulling me even closer to him as if he was just as greedy for more.

He kissed my temple, then my cheekbone. His lips trailing down to take my mouth. I clasped his biceps. Much as I wanted to smile, I was too busy returning his kiss.

Pulling back, he shucked his jeans in barely a blink. I squealed as he picked me up, cradling me to his chest.

“Your turn,” he said as he carried me to the bedroom.

“How about
our
turn?”

“The night’s long. We’ll get there.”

* * *

I
glanced
over at the clock. Just after six. After my third—fourth?—orgasm, I slid into another sated sleep, Hayden’s warm body cradling mine. But now, awake, I couldn’t hold back my fears any longer.
If I’m still here.

Why did I have to fall for the one man who couldn’t stick around?

Hayden slid his arm over my waist, cupping my stomach and pulling my naked back tight against his front. He pressed a kiss to the back of my neck.

“You’re thinking so loud you woke me. What’s wrong?”

I wiggled a little, sighing when he groaned in pleasure.

“Stop that,” he admonished. “We’ll both be sore.”

I turned over and looped my arms around his neck. “I was thinking I shouldn’t waste any second of our time together.”

I leaned forward and kissed his jaw, making sure my breasts pressed against his chest. His hands slid down my back, a soft caress that caused me to arch, purring.

“Oh! Princess. She’s going to be so mad.” I shuddered, remembering the cat’s angry swipes at my face.

“She can wait another hour,” Hayden said as he cupped my ass and pulled me tight into his groin. His erection throbbed between us. “I’m not into wasting opportunities.”

“You’re right.” I smiled as I kissed him.

This was the way I wanted to wake up every day.

A pang of sadness tried to build, but I pushed it aside. I couldn’t try to change the rules now. That wasn’t fair to either of us. Instead I clasped him closer, reveled in his touch as we made love. Again.

We peaked together, lay replete on the rumpled sheets. He trailed his fingers down my spine. I rested my cheek on his chest and closed my eyes, trying not to let my worries crash over me.

“Shower time. We can feed Princess on the way to the hospice center.” Hayden slid out from under me and padded toward the bathroom.

I cupped my cheek and smiled at him. He was one good-looking man. Tall, broad shouldered. His waist tapered into slim hips and heavy thighs. The blond hair on his chest and legs glistened in the morning sun.

“Coming?”

“In a minute.”

He turned back to face me. The full frontal view was even better. I licked my lips as my gaze caressed his hard pecs and washboard stomach.

“You misunderstood. I plan to have you coming in less than ten minutes.”

I scrambled out of the sheets and followed him into the bathroom.

* * *

H
ayden was uncharacteristically quiet
, even for him, through breakfast. Something weighed on his mind, something important.

“That first day, at hospice, you told me you listened to part of my convo with my mum. What exactly did you hear her say?” he asked as we drove to the facility a couple of hours later, once again tensing up. His eyes regained that lost-puppy look.

Ah. So much for the romantic ideal of him asking me to join him for the rest of his tour. Probably for the best, but the ache in my chest still blossomed.

“That she had bipolar disorder. That she was a bad mother because of it.”

“I don’t know what to believe,” he said. “I mean for me, my health. My future. The past. All of it.”

“You think she’d lie to you. Now?” For some reason, the idea shocked me.

“I went through all my father’s papers when he died because I was hoping for more than my mum’s name on my birth cert. I know he sold our house here in Seattle, and that he gave my mum the money. But I can’t ascertain if it was for her care at the facilities or to get her to leave me alone. A payoff.”

“They didn’t divorce?”

Hayden shook his head. “Dad kept power of attorney and all the other legal terms for spouses. I don’t remember them all. I was surprised when I didn’t find a divorce decree. I just assumed he filed when we left.”

I nibbled the corner of my lip, hesitating. No, this was all we had. I wasn’t going to regret not delving in all the way. “What do you want from your mom, Hayden?”

He continued to look out the window as though he was worried about how far into him I’d see. “Closure, I reckon. I mean, I know some of her medical history, thanks to talking with Kelly and the hospice director. I know the list of meds she’s been on, and most of them are for bipolar—and not pain—but I don’t know why she never contacted me. I can’t wrap my head around that bit.” He paused, clearly wanting to say something further.

I caught his grimace in the window’s reflection.

“I have to find out how the illness impacted her life. Knowing she had bipolar disorder doesn’t tell me if she could’ve continued playing the piano or had another relationship or . . . Crikey, I don’t know. Lived any kind of life at all. I can’t even get a straight list of her previous doctors, let alone the facilities she’s been in over the years.”

“Would you like me to make some calls?” I asked, my voice hesitant. “I know my way around the system here. I have some contacts who might be able to point you toward the right people.”

“You could dig that up?”

“I think so. Some of it, anyway.”

“But you’d keep the details you find private?” he asked. “Only tell me?”

“Of course.”

He ran his index finger over his lower lip. “I would like your help. You’ll be much faster at the research than I will. I don’t want my label involved. My mum’s health issues aren’t something I want out there for general consumption.”

I nodded, already considering the best sources as I pulled into the parking lot of the hospice.

“Okay, I’ll start with some e-mails and calls this afternoon.”

Hayden picked up my hand, pressing a kiss into my palm.

“Meeting you, here, during this . . . You’re a godsend, Sweet Briar.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I’d rather be your girlfriend or simply your lover, if it’s all the same to you.”

“It’s not. But I like calling you both of those, too.”

I wanted to ask if I could keep calling him my boyfriend, even after he left. If we could keep seeing each other, difficult though a relationship would be. But I didn’t. For some reason, I needed Hayden to make that move.