Page 4 of Hayes
She walks confidently through the ballroom doors and then down the hallway toward the exit.
I jog to catch up to her, slamming my hand on the door to keep her from escaping before I can work my allure on her. My breath is hot on her neck, and as I breathe in her sweet scent akin to warm sugary vanilla, an explosion of desire burns through my body. My cock is straining against my zipper, and I haven’t even touched her yet. She has no idea how turned on I am. No clue that I’m losing my fucking mind over her, even though I have no idea who she really is or why I’m having this strong of a reaction to her.
Ruby doesn’t turn around. Her breath catches in her throat. She feels my presence—the undeniable tug between us. She senses the purr of electricity swirling swiftly through the air around us.
“Who are you?” I breathe out, even though I already know her name. And because I know her name—I know some of her background. I know she’s the daughter of a wealthy Retribution King. I know she’s engaged to be married to Samson Evans. I know she’s grown up in this world, and therefore, she’s survived great trauma. We all have to have made it to young adulthood and still belong to the Retribution Kings. I don’t know what exactly she endured during her initiation, just that she’s a survivor like all of us. But my words spill out, needing to know the truth of her. Why am I so drawn to her? Who is she really? What are her real desires? Does she really want to marry Samson, or is it an arranged marriage?
“You already know my name; it’s why you came looking for me.” Her words shock me, but I don’t let her know that.
“Yes, but I want more than your name. Who are you?”
She doesn’t answer me. There is no way to answer my question with a simple sentence.
I suck in a breath, gulping down more of her scent—getting whiffs of a crisp, citrusy aura this time. My body aches with more need for her from each additional breath. It’s terrifying how quickly my body reacts to her.
I’m turned on by plenty of women, but never this fast and never with this much intensity.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
She huffs, turning and facing me. “Really? That’s your pickup line? The most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen? How many times have you used that tonight alone? I’ve seen you with the other women. Some women may find your cocky arrogance attractive, but you’re going to have to work harder with me.”
I grin wider than I’ve ever grinned before, and my eyes shine brightly with thick desire.
“None, and I don’t mind a little extra work. You’re the most intoxicatingly beautiful woman with the sharpest mouth I’ve ever met.”
“I doubt that, sunshine.”
“Sunshine? I like that.”
“I don’t. I hate the sun. It tricks you into thinking you’re happy with its vitamin D and sunny disposition. It’s only later that you realize it burned your skin and gave you cancer.”
“I won’t hurt you.”
“You will. All men hurt.”
She’s been hurt. Betrayed? Abused? Raped? I don’t know where her trauma comes from—just that I can see it in her eyes. There’s a dullness now where I saw the sparkle earlier.
Still, I can’t stop beaming at her. I can’t stop wanting her. It’s like I found something I didn’t know I was searching for—I can’t explain it. I don’t know this woman any more than she knows me. She’s beautiful, but there are plenty of beautiful women here tonight. It’s something else, something deeper. Something yanks me to her, something beyond the real reason I came here tonight.
“And yet, you still want me.”
Her eyes widen at my blazed words. “You are cocky…and wrong.”
“I’m not.” My eyes drag down her body in a heated glaze. “Your pulse is quickening in your neck. You haven’t swallowed in over a minute, and when you do again, it will be a hard swallow, pushing down your own thirst for me. Your lips are parted, practically begging to be kissed. Your nipples have hardened beneath your dress—I can see their peaks through the thin material. And I’m guessing your panties, if you’re wearing any, have a damp spot of arousal marked on them.”
She shakes her head. “You’re so fucking wrong. You think you caused all of that in me by just coming after me. By putting your burly arm in front of me, preventing me from leaving, and flashing me one smug smirk, my panties are melting off. You think I’d spread my legs for you in the nearest cheap hotel room. You’re full of yourself if you actually think that.”
“Why? It’s true.”
“Just because other women find you attractive doesn’t mean I do. Your hair is too long, your glasses are too big, you should shave that scruff off your face, and you grin far too often for any one of them to be genuine.” Her eyes narrow in on my dimple, and her mouth runs dry. She licks her lips, moistening them. “Any man who walks around like he’s god’s gift to women is an asshole, and not a man I’d ever consider fucking.”
I shudder in delight at her tongue lashing. Is this love? Is this true desire? There’s a throbbing in my chest as I cling to her every word. I want to know all of her thoughts. I want to know everything.
“Stop grinning at me. It’s annoying,” she quips.
“It’s who I am. I can’t help it any more than you can help being surely.”
“I’m not surely.”
