That One Moment (Lost in London #2) (22 page)

“Oh, no you don’t,” Hayden bellows. He shoves me into the vehicle and ducks in behind me. “I’m not done talking to you.”

I turn to face him in the dark backseat. “You cheeky bastard. Get your own cab.”

“Vi,” he fumes, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw so hard I’m afraid his teeth will crack. “Please let me take you home. I need to explain myself and then I swear I’ll fucking shove off.”

I scowl angrily as the driver asks me what I want him to do. “Drive,” I grumble, sitting back and crossing my arms over my chest. I angle as far away from Hayden as possible while looking out the window.

His breaths are heavy as he attempts to calm himself down in the painfully quiet car. “So, speak!” I bark.

“I’m not bloody well doing it in front of this bloke.”

The driver’s head turns. “Ain’t nothing I ain’t heard before.”

Hayden shakes his head and looks out the window as we make our way back to my flat. We manage to arrive back at Brick Lane without killing each other. I hop out without looking back, but I can hear Hayden’s long strides behind me. I reach my alley entrance and unlock the doors to the lift. He slides in beside me, remaining completely quiet, but is watching me warily. I glare at his apologetic reflection in the mirrored wall of the lift and roll my eyes. He’s got a lot of explaining to do. I don’t care how hot he looks inside my lift. I jam my key in and punch my fist onto the button marked eleven, schooling my features to remain angry. One puppy-dog look isn’t going to get him off the hook.

The doors open and Bruce dives into the lift, attacking Hayden with happy licks and pants and tail wagging.

Bloody traitor.

“Do you have to take Bruce for a walk?” he asks.

My heels clack on the slate flooring as I go to flick on the lamp in my seating area. I glance at the clock and see that it’s not quite one. “I have a neighbour who walks him when I go out. He was here half an hour ago. I didn’t expect to be home this early.”

The light casts a warm glow on Hayden’s sombre face. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

I lift my brows, feeling an awful lot like I’m scolding one of my brothers for rowing on the field. “What for?”

“Vi,” he says my name on a shaky sigh. “You aren’t just some random bird to me.” His voice is husky as he speaks slowly and carefully. “And you’re not someone I can just forget about and walk away from.”

I flinch at his shocking comment, which renders me at a rare loss for words. “But last week…you totally brushed me off. Told me to get stuffed.”

He shifts his jaw back and forth in silent protest over my less than stellar paraphrasing. “I said all that because I don’t want to ruin everything around me, Vi.” He pushes a harsh hand through his hair and continues, “I’m finally feeling happy with life again and I’m terrified of messing that all up. It’s like this…In rehab they have a rule of thumb…After you get out and you want to start a relationship, you have to buy a plant first. If you keep it alive, then you get a dog. You keep both of them alive, then you can consider starting up with someone.”

“Okay…and?”

He purses his lips in disappointment. “It’s been a year and I can’t even bring myself to go buy a bloody plant. I’m fucking terrified of failing and ruining everything I’ve gained back. Then I met you and you have a dog
and
a secret bloody garden on your roof!”

My jaw drops at his accusatory tone. “I pay someone to care for my garden!” I stamp my foot with indignation, feeling immediately defensive for some odd reason.

His eyes drift down my body, landing on my legs, and heat flourishes behind his hard grey eyes. He licks his lips and his nostrils flare in challenge. “You have to stop stamping your foot.”

“Why?” I recoil and my face screws up in disgust over his ridiculous demand.

“Because it makes me want to throw you over my shoulder and spank the ever-loving shit out of you. And then I’m going to want to fuck you until you forget whatever it is you’re angry at me for!”

My heart stops. Time freezes. “Hayden,” I croak, not all together comfortable with how my body is reacting to his sexual threat.

As if reading me like a book, his chin drops and he begins walking slowly toward me. His hand grips his wrist so hard his knuckles turn white. “Before…I didn’t think I could have you. But now I know there’s no way I can’t have you.” I inhale sharply at the twinkling determination in his eyes. “I want to know you, Vi. I want to know why you stamp your foot. And what exactly you love to cook. And why you never cared to play football. Who you’ve ever dated. Why you spent six hundred pounds on a keepsake box that you’re just going to give away.” He stops in front of me. “I want it all.”

“You’re so confusing, Hayden,” I reply, my voice embarrassingly breathy as he stands only a foot away from me now. His eyes are glossy with obvious lust. Pure, undiluted lust. “You kiss me and run away, then kiss me and tell me I can do better. I don’t know what you’re even saying.”

He licks his lips thoughtfully. “I’m saying that tonight when you showed up looking the way you did…” he pauses as his eyes drift down my body. His heated expression makes me feel every drop of hot blood coursing through my veins. “I wanted to have you right then and there. But not in a club full of people. I wanted you in the privacy of your bedroom…where the curves of your hips, the rise of your chest, the moisture on your lips…are for me and me alone.”

I exhale at his guttural tone and am embarrassed when a throaty noise comes out of my mouth. He takes this noise as permission and moves in closer, his posture hunched as he looks down at me. “So, I’m sorry for some things, Vi. But I’m not sorry for interfering. To ask me to just walk away when a prat like Ethan Simmons worms himself within inches of your mouth…your fucking mouth that I’ve touched with my lips…lips that I have claimed as mine in a thousand different fantasies…No, Vi. No. I’m not going to be sorry for that.”

“But you said—”

“Stuff what I said. I can’t stay away from you.” The words rush out of his mouth as he harshly grabs me by the waist. His bruising, firm grip shoves up the stretchy fabric of my top as his lips find mine in a desperate, needy kiss. He greedily yanks the cups of my bra down and caresses my nipples in such a way that I rip my mouth away from his and let out a strangled cry. I’m not all together certain I’ve ever heard that sound come from my mouth before.

He releases my nipples to pull my top off over my head, revealing my lacy red bra tucked firmly beneath my breasts, pushing them up for his lustful perusal. He drops an open mouthed kiss on each of them before standing back up straight. Groaning in frustration, he pauses his assault and looks into my eyes. A warmth blossoms in his gaze as he wraps his arms around me, holding me close. “I’m terrified, Vi…of so much. But I don’t have the strength to walk away from you again. You make me weak.”

I exhale with relief and anxiety over his comment, feeling my emotions at odds. I’ve been wanting Hayden Clarke to let me in since he first kissed me outside my building. But what does it mean when he says he feels weak around me? Am I capable of hurting him? I lick my lips and guide him down to my level. “Maybe with time I can make you strong.” He swallows my words with his mouth and our lips move against each other more passionately than ever before. This kiss is less frenzied and desperate. Less lustful and hard. With this kiss, our lips mould in synchronisation, equally giving and taking, like two flames licking the night sky in perfect, rippling unison.

“Stay the night,” I demand against his lips, forgetting everything that confuses me and just wanting to keep him with me long enough to figure it all out. I moved into this flat to assert myself in my life and become more independent. I refuse to let my entire happiness rest in the hands of this stunningly complicated and somewhat broken man.

He swallows hard and nods as if he knows what he’s agreeing to is huge and he’s making a commitment to himself as much as he is to me. “Okay…but no spanking,” he smirks and his chest rumbles beneath my hands with his silent laughter.

A grin splits across my face. “As long as I don’t stamp my foot, right?” I giggle softly. “How about just some good, old-fashioned cuddling?”

He nods and allows me to take his hand and lead him through the French doors to my bedroom. I quickly pull the cups of my bra back up over my breasts, feeling a bit shy now that things have tamed down. Tamed down is good. I’m not ready to jump into the deep end with Hayden. Not yet. He’s shared a lot with me, but there’s still so much more I want to know about him.

Blue moonlight swirls with glowing orange city lights as they pour into my room through the floor-to-ceiling windows. That’s one benefit of being on the eleventh floor. Curtains aren’t necessary when you’re in the tallest building for miles. Bruce’s paws clack on the slate floor behind us as he trots over to his bed in the corner of my room. He’s such a good dog, even if he is a slobbery beast. I make a mental note to give him extra cuddles in the morning since I haven’t paid him much attention tonight.

Hayden lets out a huff of a laugh as he looks down at my bed.

“What?” I ask, smiling at him while rifling through my dresser for a nightshirt.

He shakes his head and rubs circles around his wrist. “The second I saw your room for the first time the other day, all I could think about was you spread out and completely naked on this magnificent bed.”

My jaw drops with both shock and excitement. “I love my bed,” I croak, dropping the shirt on the duvet and looking nervously into his eyes. The butterflies in my belly can stop anytime now.

He swallows hard and glances down to my red bra-covered chest and then to my skirt. “Are you sure you want this, Vi?” he asks, his grey eyes turning from sexual to serious in the blink of an eye.

I notice he says “this” instead of “me.” I don’t quite know what
this
even is to know how to respond. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that a very tiny, inconsequential part of me wants to run for the hills. Hayden’s given me a laundry list of reasons he’s not ready for a relationship, yet here we are, in my bedroom, and now all I can think about are his arms wrapped around me all night.

“I want what you’re willing to give me,” I reply, leaning in and placing a gentle kiss on each side of his neck. “As long as that’s just cuddling for tonight, of course.”

He groans as I pull back. “Then you better toss this on, Bunny.” He chucks my T-shirt at me and I let out a hearty laugh as I catch it.

“Bunny?” I ask mockingly. “So if I’m a bunny, what does that make you?” I reach forward and begin slowly popping the buttons of his shirt, feeling dizzyingly excited to see what’s underneath.

He grins playfully, “A very rude rabbit.”

Completely unable to keep up the sexy facade, I burst out into giggles while removing his shirt from his arms and feasting my eyes on the lean planes of his chest. He grins cockily at me, clearly proud of his little joke.

“Give it here,” he groans and yanks the T-shirt down over my head, smoothing back my blonde strands that come loose with it. He brushes his finger along the top of my nose with a warm affection to his eyes. “Off to bed with you.”

I giggle and shimmy out of my red skirt, leaving my red thong and bra on. It at least makes me feel sexy underneath this very unsexy nightshirt. I crawl beneath my crushed velvet duvet, and my eyes snap up when I hear the buckle of Hayden’s belt. I follow the action and stare for a moment at his thick brown leather cuffs. Coupled with his watch and muscled forearms, the look is masculine and attractive in a style I’ve never seen on a bloke. But I know he doesn’t wear them as a simple fashion choice, so I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever see beneath them.

My thoughts are quickly distracted by the sight of Hayden standing before me now in just a pair of pure white boxer briefs. The material hugs his muscular thighs and my eyes greedily rake up his body, taking in every trim line of his abs. He’s not overly muscled…but he’s lean and toned in all the right places.

“Not an innocent bunny at all,” he purrs, crawling into the bed beside me. “Your bedroom eyes are making it really fucking hard to be good right now.”

I smile in contentment as he tucks his arm beneath me. Snuggling in, I lay my head on that perfect place on a man’s chest. The place that dips in just above their peck and below their neck, which allows you to hear their heart thundering beneath the surface.

“What’s this?” I ask, touching the black ink on the side of his ribcage that I hadn’t noticed before. It’s a small tattoo with the digital time display of 11:11 in thick gothic font numbers. It’s resting on top of a flat line that shoots up in several peaks that look like waveforms on a monitor…like a heartbeat.

He stiffens slightly. “Just something I got after rehab.”

“What does it mean?”

“Just a little superstition. It’s nothing.”

My brows lift curiously, but I don’t press it any further. We still have a lot to learn about each other, but I want him to tell me everything on his own time. I nuzzle into him and pull the blanket up a bit.

“Vi?” he asks quietly into the night.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.” He drops a soft kiss on my head and lets out a large sigh, like he was holding his breath.

Rather than ruin the moment with a self-deprecating comment, I remain silent and close my eyes, allowing myself to drift away in the arms of this mysterious man.