The Hustle (Irreparable #4) (10 page)

The shred of hope I held onto is gone. They hustled me and I accept that, but Eduardo and Maria will soon learn they chose the wrong target. I assume the hustle started when she developed a friendship with Brady. Perhaps he was even her first target and when she failed to succeed with him, she set her sights on me. She used to tell me I wasn’t a match for Eduardo, that I was too soft. Her leaving me thickened my skin, made me hard as stone, and turned me into the man who is going to force feed her those words.

My eyes focus on the sun outside my office window as it sets behind the horizon. With a flash it’s gone, replaced with the lights of office buildings and street lamps. Another night I’ve spent in this chair contemplating my decisions. I have a security team monitoring my brother, Tori and Little A, but the worry in the back of my mind never eases.

“Mr. Hunter,” my secretary’s voice startles me through the intercom. “There’s a Ms. Miles here to see you.”

I glance down to my cell phone to a text from Mike warning me Peyton is on her way up.

“Send her in,” I reply, quickly gathering the photos and stuffing them in the desk drawer.

A smile forms on my lips as she walks through the door, like one always does when I see her. It’s like every time she’s near me she takes a little piece of my pain and makes it bearable, allows me to smile and forget how broken I feel. The emotions I feel around Peyton are why I keep my distance. Before long, she’ll ease all of my pain and I’ll forget why I hurt. Then I’ll fall for Peyton, starting the vicious cycle of love and losing all over again.

The black pumps on her feet hold my attention as she strolls to my desk. Her long and luscious legs are on full display with the short gray skirt wrapped around her fuck-me hips. I love her calves and the curve of the back of her knee. I’ve fantasized about seeing her naked, but a girl like Peyton feels, and a woman with emotions isn’t one I can take to bed. Especially not one I consider a friend, one who makes me laugh, and one I have no intention of hurting.

She glides beyond my desk with the grace of a ballerina to the side of my chair and stares down at me. With my eyes focused on hers, I spin in the chair to face her.

“This is a nice surprise,” I say, allowing my eyes to slowly peruse the edges of her curves and the swell of her breasts peeking out from the top of her low-cut blouse.

“Is it, Aidan?” She bends over me, placing her hands on my shoulders as she straddles me in the chair. “Because it feels like you’re avoiding me. Why is that?”

My breath catches as shock sets in and I stare at her open–mouthed, unsure if I should be truthful with her. The attraction between us has been there from the start, but I’d hoped she was denying it as much as I’d been. I swallow hard, leaning back as Peyton begins slowly undoing my tie. Where her sudden bravery stems from hits me with her next breath. “Have you been drinking?”

“A little.” She giggles, lowering her head. My dick hardens as her tongue trails softly along my jaw.

I grip her small waist, pushing her back so I can look at her. “Are you drunk?”

“A little.” Her index finger pushes into my lips when I start to tell her this is a mistake. “But, I’m sober enough to know that you don’t want to answer my question.”

Her hips push forward, causing me to groan.

“I am avoiding you,” I tell her, releasing a breath.

“Why?” Her warm breath tickles my ear as she removes the tie from over my head. She drops it on the desk and gets busy releasing the buttons on my shirt.

I reach up, secure my hands over her delicate wrists and remove her hands from my shirt. “Because, Peyton, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Why do you assume you’ll hurt me?”

Turning my head and ignoring her is easier than telling her how fucked up I am. That I always hurt people I care about. She yanks on my belt, releasing the buckle. I haven’t had an opportunity to get my dick wet since Peyton showed up at the loft and my will to refuse her hangs by a thread as she undoes the button on my slacks and lowers the zipper.

“What are you doing?” I ask, glancing down at her small hand that’s inching its way inside of my boxers.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You should stop,” I warn, knowing I’ll fuck her if she doesn’t. Drunk or not, I can’t resist her when she’s so willing to let me have her.

“Why?”

I release a shaky breath as her warm hand covers my dick.

“Because if you don’t, I will take everything you’re giving me, but I won’t give you anything in return. I’ll fuck you and hate you. That’s who I am. I’m still in love with a woman I can’t have.”

“And I’m still in love with a guy I can’t have. They left us. I’m not here so you’ll fall in love with me, but you can have me.” Her hand wraps around my rock hard dick. My head falls back as she works me base to tip before taking my hand and shoving it up her skirt where I discover she isn’t wearing panties. Her confidence makes my dick harder and decreases my ability to say no. She slides my fingers through her wet pussy, causing me to lose control. I insert two fingers deep inside of her as she writhes against my hand, panting. “I’m done fighting you. All I want is for us to take care of the sexual tension that’s been brewing between us since the day we met. It’s been over a year since I’ve had sex and what I want is for you to fuck me until I’m satisfied.”

A growl erupts in my throat. Her forwardness arouses me further. As much as I know I shouldn’t give Peyton what she’s asking for, my dick takes command. I withdraw my fingers and push her skirt up to her waist, staring into her eyes and silently begging her to change her mind. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

She grips my face with one hand, her piercing aqua eyes rendering me stupid. “Just shut up and fuck me.”

Her bold order is my complete undoing. The thread finally snaps and I slam her down onto my cock, lifting my hips to get as deep as possible. To reach the edge where I feel nothing before I fall. That point right before climax where I feel numb and my head clears, free from pain and regret. The brink of orgasm is the only time I feel peace. Even if only for mere seconds, I need to go there.

She throws her arms around my neck, tipping her head back as she cries out in wild satisfaction, but I feel the pang of conscience crushing my chest. I can’t. We can’t, but as she starts to move, I lack the strength to stop what’s happening or how much I want her. Being in her bare overwhelms me with a carnality that makes me want to own her. I am prepared to stake a fucking claim right now. Then the same raw passion shoots anger through me and has me shoving her off of me. She shrieks falling back on her ass.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Her arms fold over her body as she scoots back on the floor. “Fuck! You could get pregnant . . . I don’t want a kid. You fucking stupid woman.”

As her eyes well with tears, my anger grows in intensity, but not with Peyton. With myself for being careless and acting with an impulsivity that fucks with my life every damn time I act on it.

“You don’t have to yell at me,” she spits angrily as she stands and straightens her skirt. “Or call me names.”

A sigh releases from my lungs as I realize what a colossal dick I am. “I made a mistake once and I vowed never to do it again.”

She keeps her eyes glued to mine, her expression still hurt, stirring my ever present guilt. “I should go.” Her back is to me when she stops at my office door and turns her head to look at me. “For the record, I don’t want a kid either. I’m on the pill.”

As I watch the door close, I realize I’m once again losing myself to a woman. That I’ve once again put myself in a position to be hurt.

Beneath all the strength I try to exude, I’m weak and susceptible to a woman with Peyton’s charms. She’s able to see through all of my bullshit and that makes her as dangerous as it does desirable.

Thankfully, I think my behavior’s ensured that she’s done with me, which I deserve as punishment for my stupidity.

“W
hen will my place be finished?” Peyton asks as soon as I enter the loft. Her words and her posture convey chilling distance.

“Soon,” I answer, heading straight to the bar.

I hear her approach me from behind but keep my back to her. “I’ve never been so humiliated,” she says softly.

Knowing I owe her an explanation, I spin around to face her. Only when I see the rejection in her gaze, I can’t find words. The silence around us as I consider how to make things right thickens until she begins tapping her foot. The action combined with her pouting lips amuses me and I release a quiet laugh.

“What the fuck do you want me to say, Peyton? I told you I’d hurt you. I’m a bad guy with a broken heart that doesn’t know who he is.”

“No, you’re a good guy with a huge heart that’s been through some bad times. Knowing the difference comes from how much control you give your past.”

“You’re wrong,” I shake my head, refusing to believe there’s an ounce of worth left in me. “I don’t know what to say.”

She shoves her pointer finger into my chest, with her expression tight. “You start with an apology, or are you too proud for that?”

“No,” I huff and then smile. “I’m just not good at it.”

I watch her mouth trying to smile as she fights to stay mad. “It’s real easy. You open your mouth and say two measly words . . . that’s it . . . Man up . . . Have some balls and . . .”

I cover her mouth when I see she’s going to keep rattling on until I say what she wants to hear. “I’m sorry.”

My hand remains for a second but when I feel her smile against it, I let go.

“See . . . Was that so hard?” Her eyes dance with delight as she smiles brightly.

She has no idea how hard it was. With a pathetic shrug, I turn back to the bar. I pour us both a drink. When I hand her the glass, she shakes her head.

“Had enough?”

“Yeah, I tend to do stupid things when I drink.” She narrows her eyes in a playful manner.

“Like?” I ask, joking with her as I return her glass to the bar.

“Like trying to seduce a hot guy, only to find out I’m the only piece of ass on the planet he won’t sleep with.”

Instinctually, I want to be angry and defend myself by telling her how wrong she is about me. But what a joke! She doesn’t know my reasons, but she isn’t wrong. She doesn’t understand that to me—she’s more than just a
piece of ass.
That because I feel things for her, I couldn’t follow through with a reckless fuck session.

I don’t want a first time with her that ends in a mistake. I want a first time with her that will obliterate our other first times. Fuck! This chick is changing me and I’m not sure yet how I feel about that.

I can’t be mad and I won’t follow her lead and make a joke about what happened. There’s nothing funny about how I made her feel. Her eyes study me, looking for some clue to explain my behavior. She won’t find one. The mask is flawless, revealing only what I allow it to. She’s seen glimpses when I let my guard down, but not now, not after what happened in my office. From now on, she’ll only see what I let her.

The shame still marring her features upsets me. It’s me who should feel humiliated. She deserves to know what a head case I am and that she didn’t do anything wrong. I take her hand and lead her to the couch. We settle in next to each other with our feet on the coffee table.

“I really am sorry, Peyton. I panicked when I realized I wasn’t wearing a little heart-saver.”

She laughs, tilting her head to the side. “Heart-saver? There’s a new one.”

“I made the mistake with heartbreaker number one. We had a,
who the daddy
moment and I wanted it to be mine, but it wasn’t. She married the baby daddy and then I met heartbreaker number two.”

“That sucks,” she snorts, slurring her words slightly.

“Yes it does.”

She pats my knee. “I made the same mistake with heartbreaker number one. Just look how much we have in common.”

My eyes go wide. “You have a kid?”

“No, God no . . . so maybe not the exact same mistake. He’d just broke up with his girlfriend when we met. We dated for a couple of months. When I was head over heels in love, the Ex showed up with a bump, wanting her baby daddy back. Can’t compete with that.”