Chapter Eight #3
“I broke it off,” he said. “Years ago.”
The answer should have brought relief. Some part of me had waited so long to hear it that I almost hated myself for how deeply it struck.
Instead, it opened something more painful, something I did not know what to do with, because if Hayden Stone had never married her, then the anger I had carried for years no longer stood on the same ground.
The accusation stayed between us, unfinished and suddenly uncertain, while the hallway seemed too narrow for everything we had never said.
I forced myself to speak again, because if I stayed silent any longer, the confusion would swallow everything I had spent years holding onto.
“But it doesn’t change anything,” I said, my voice firmer than I felt. “You still lied to me.”
His jaw tightened.
“And that doesn’t go away because you broke off the engagement later.”
The anger came back slowly, pushing through the shock his confession had left behind. I held on to it because anger made more sense than pain, because anger gave me somewhere to stand.
“You hid things from me,” I said, the words gaining force as the memories returned. “Your fiancée. The job offer. You hid an entire future from me and acted like it had nothing to do with the woman you were sharing your life with.”
I stopped before the last word could leave my mouth.
Because his hand was suddenly on my wrist again.
And then his mouth was on mine. It happened so fast my mind had no time to protect me from it.
His lips pressed against mine with too much force, too much frustration, too much of everything we had failed to say, and for one stunned heartbeat, I froze.
He pulled back to speak against my mouth.
“You talk too much,” he said, his voice rough. “And this is the only way I know how to shut you up.”
Then he kissed me again. The world around us fell away. The music from the reception faded behind the walls, the hallway disappeared, and all I could feel was the heat of his mouth, the grip around my wrist, and the terrible familiarity of something I had spent years trying to survive forgetting.
The kiss was not gentle. It was anger, hunger, memory, and need colliding all at once, his mouth taking mine as if the years between us had only made him more reckless.
He tasted of mint, smoke, and the faint bitterness of champagne, a combination so painfully familiar and unfamiliar at once that it sent a shiver through me.
I should have pushed him away. I should have ended it before it became another thing I would hate myself for remembering, but his body was against mine, his hand was at my waist, and some ruined part of me still knew exactly how to answer him.
My hands found him before my pride could stop them, slipping beneath the edge of his jacket, pressing against the warmth of his body as if touch alone could make sense of what words had destroyed.
Everything I had buried rose too fast, the taste of him, the weight of him, the way he still fit against me with a familiarity that made my chest ache.
I kissed him back.
God help me, I kissed him back.
For one terrible moment, I let myself want him. I let myself forget the anger, the lies, the years I had spent trying to survive without him. I let myself become the girl who had once believed his hands were the safest place in the world, and that surrender frightened me more than the kiss itself.
Because Hayden Stone had always known how to ruin me. He had once been the center of my world, and even now, after everything, he still had the power to pull me under, to make me forget where the wound ended and the wanting began.
He pulled back only enough to look at me, his breath uneven, his eyes moving over my face as if he were trying to memorize what he had no right to keep.
“You look so fucking hot in this red dress,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire.
A shiver ran through me at his words, heat pooling in my stomach.
“Thank you,” I breathed, my heart pounding in my chest.
His fingers found the hem of my dress, trailing along the fabric teasingly before slipping underneath.
As his fingers teased my skin, leaving behind a trail of searing heat, my senses were overwhelmed with the intensity of his presence.
My body craved every inch of contact, each touch igniting a fire within me that threatened to consume us both.
“Fuck, I want you so badly,” he growled, his voice dripping with need. The raw hunger in his tone sent shivers down my spine, causing my breath to hitch in response. Anticipation mounted as he slowly traced the curve of my hip, his fingers trembling with barely contained desire.
“Hay...Hayden,” I whispered, my voice trembling with anticipation. He smiled knowingly at the sound of his name on my lips.
“I want to rip off this dress and fuck you senseless,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire as he slid his hand up my thigh.
Each movement was filled with purpose, heightening the anticipation that coursed through me like electricity.
Heat pooled between my thighs at his words, making me shiver uncontrollably with arousal.
As he pushed two fingers inside me, thrusting deep, my back arched instinctively towards him, desperate for more.
Pleasure erupted from his touch, causing me to cry out his name in ecstasy.
He leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear as he continued to work his fingers in and out of me, each movement more intense than the last.
“Did you let anyone else touch what's mine?” he asked possessively, his voice dripping with a dangerous edge.
The question hung heavy between us, but I was lost in the sensation, unable to form a coherent response.
Instead, I moaned loudly as he pumped his fingers faster, hitting that perfect spot inside me, making my hips rock against his hand, craving the release building within.
He chuckled darkly at my response, the sound sending a thrill through me.
Knowing he had such power over my body only heightened my arousal, making me even wetter.
“You're still mine, aren't you?” he said with a satisfaction that threatened to send me over the edge.
I could only whimper and surrender to the pleasure he was giving me as another orgasm began to build, the tension coiling deep within me.
“Hayden, please,” I begged, my voice shaky with need.
He growled in response, thrusting his fingers deeper, claiming me with each movement.
“That's right,” he said, his voice filled with a mixture of possession and desire.
“You'll always be mine.” His words sent me tumbling over the edge, my orgasm crashing over me in intense waves that left me breathless and trembling in his arms. My body quivered as the sensations consumed me, making it nearly impossible to stand.