Hearts at Play by Melissa Foster
“And you love Layla.”
“Very much.”
She nodded and pressed her hands against his chest. “Does that happen a lot?”
Her hands stirred a different type of warmth in him. “What?”
“Autographs, cameras.”
“Yes. Sometimes. Someone from the theater must have leaked that I was there. I’m sorry you had to experience that.” He laid his hand on her bare knee.
“I’m not. It helped me realize how silly I was being. I worried so much about Layla getting hurt—about me getting hurt—that I was ready to hide for eighteen years. I can’t hide from what we have, Hugh. Tonight I realized that I don’t want to. And the next time I fall into a what-if stage—and trust me, I will—will you please remind me that I’m being an idiot?”
He felt his cheeks lift with a smile. “No.” He laughed under his breath. “I know better than to do that. If you’re anything like you were tonight, it wouldn’t have mattered if I had carried you behind the curtains and made sweet love to you.” Damn, now he had that image in his head. “You were in a place all your own. Untouchable.” Mack’s words came rushing back to him. She doesn’t love easily. “Teach me how. I’ll do anything for you.”
She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
“That wouldn’t have worked. You were too upset. You would have smacked me. Help me help you, Bree. I’m being sincere. How can I break through next time without upsetting you further?”
She unbuttoned his shirt and slid her hand across his chest. Holy hell. Now he had a hard-on again. She was seriously fucking with his equilibrium.
“Next time I do that…” She leaned in close and took his neck in her mouth, sucking lightly. “We need a code word.”
He was still stuck on her tongue on his neck. “Code…”
“Mm-hmm,” she said. “If I get the what-ifs, you say—”
“Sidecar.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Sidecar?”
“Yes. It will remind you of the night we first met.” He pulled her mouth back down to his neck.
“Sidecar,” she whispered before taking his neck in her mouth again.
His broken heart reassembled and slammed against his chest. Her tongue stroked his neck. She came away from his neck with her lips parted, curling into a coy smile as he lowered his mouth to them, filling her with all the love he had. Their mouths fit together perfectly; their tongues moved in tandem; their bodies melded together. He slid his hand beneath her dress, stroking her through her damp panties. She looked at him hungrily, and he knew they were once again in sync. He slid his fingers beneath the thin fabric and groaned as he entered her. Brianna pressed her hips into him. He slid her dress open and took her breast in his mouth, inciting the sexy little moans that sent his desires into overdrive. Christ, she was hot. He felt her thighs tighten, and he moved his fingers quicker. His tongue teased the taut peak of her nipple, and she grabbed his shoulder in her fist, digging her nails into him. He loved the pain and pleasure all at once. She called out his name, and he brought his lips to hers to muffle her cries as the orgasm tore through her and she kissed him like she needed him to survive. He brought her down easy, replacing his fast strokes with lusciously slow teases. She sighed a sweet, gratified breath, and he leaned his forehead against her chest.
He listened to her heartbeat calm, felt her body find that boneless, after-release sedation.
“Bree?”
“Mm?”
“Don’t scare me again, please.” He looked up at her, and all the feelings he had for her collided together—the love, respect, lust, worry—and he needed all of her. Right then, right there. Bad idea. He glanced down the hall.
“I promise. Sidecar. Just remember sidecar.” She slid off his lap and reached for his zipper.
“No, not here.” He lifted his chin in the direction of Layla’s door.
She stood and took his hand. He followed her down the hall, past Layla’s door, and into her bedroom, which felt insanely naughty.
“You sure? What if she wakes up?”
“I locked the door. We’ll just have to be very quiet.” She fumbled with his button, and he settled his hand over hers.
“Bree. I can wait.”
“I can’t.”
THERE WASN’T TIME to think or even to breathe. Brianna had made one giant mistake that evening, and she’d never be so foolish again. The fear of losing Hugh intensified her desire to erase what she’d done. As their mouths mashed together and they fumbled with each other’s clothes, she let her mind go where she had been tethering it from meandering before. To the place that scared her the most. The future. He laid her down on the bed, and she closed her eyes, waiting for the fear to settle in as it had earlier. She felt his hands on the insides of her thighs, pushing her legs open, and she heard his whisper from earlier. Please do this with me? She summoned the fear, imagining herself at the race, watching women reach for Hugh.
His hands traveled up her sides, rough and sure.
She tried harder to bring the fear forward. Trying to imagine him closer, using the buxom blonde from earlier in the night as a visual, testing her own fear. She closed her eyes and tried again to imagine Hugh moving toward the blonde. She needed to see if the fear was lingering somewhere deep within her brain.
Hugh wrapped his lips around her hip and stroked her skin with his tongue. She rocked against his teeth, wishing he’d go lower.
The blonde pushed herself in front of him, and no matter how much Brianna tried to conjure an image of him moving toward the blonde with a wanton look in his eyes, his eyes remained trained on Brianna. The fear would not come out to play.
“Yes,” she called out in excitement. Her hand flew to her mouth, and Hugh looked up.
“Did I miss a home run?” he teased.
“Sorry,” she whispered. She bit her lip but could not suppress the smile that stretched her lips.
Then his body was on top of hers, and he was kissing her, hard and deep, and she could feel his hard length against her, and—Oh God—she wanted him so badly. She pulled at his hips, and he rolled to the side and snagged a condom from his wallet.
“Hurry,” she whispered.
He made a dramatic display of opening it painfully slowly and then rolling it on at the same treacherously unhurried pace. She groaned, and he slid back up her body, the tip of him resting against her center.
“What was the cheer for?”
“Come on,” she urged, hoping he’d drop it.
He pulled back, and she grabbed hold of him, pulling him up once again. “Okay, okay.” She sighed. “I was trying to envision you with a fan girl.”
He pushed himself up on one hand. “While I was…”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to make sure the fear was really gone.”
“You tried to bring a fan girl into the bedroom with us to make sure it didn’t scare you?” he teased.
“No!”
“Shhh.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. “I don’t swing that way, sweetheart. I’m a one-woman man. So if you need more than just me to satisfy you, you need to tell me now.”
She shoved him playfully. “Shut up.”
“I’m being serious.” He grinned and brought his hips between hers again.
“So am I. I can’t summon the fear. I’m sure it’s still there, lingering and waiting to attack at the worst time, but I’m going to tattoo sidecar on our wrists. Then we’ll be safe forever.”
He took her hands in his and stretched them above her head, holding them with one hand.
“Forever. I like that,” he whispered, then lowered his mouth to hers.
Within seconds, she was lost in the kiss. The best kiss of her life. He held her arms captive, rendering her defenseless and unable to pull his hips to hers. She arched in to him, and he teased her, sinking just the thick tip of himself into her, then drawing it out. She gasped with each withdrawal, her wrists straining against his st
“Make love to me,” she panted.
He sank the tip in again and then—Oh yes!—a little more.
“Yes. More.”
He withdrew again, and a cry escaped her lips. He tried to catch it in his mouth and was too slow. “Shh,” he reminded her.
How the hell was she supposed to be quiet when he was bringing every nerve in her body to a tantalizing, brain-numbing ache of need?
“Please,” she begged.
He sank his teeth into her neck and drove her up to the edge with three hard sucks and another taunting tease down below. She closed her eyes and groaned, struggling to free her arms and loving the restraint.
“Open your eyes,” he said. “See me. Feel me.”
The promise of feeling him drew her eyes open. She was so close to coming apart that when he said, “I love you, Bree,” it almost took her over the edge. She closed her eyes to savor the moment.
“Open your eyes. See me, Bree. Be with me.”
His voice was rich and smooth, and oh so sexy. She opened her eyes, and he drove into her, every magnificent inch of him, filling her completely, touching all the right spots as he thrust again and again, withdrawing almost completely and then returning with fervor, each time taking her higher. His eyes darkened and narrowed, but he held her gaze, and the strain of her arms against the thrust of his hips and the love in his eyes collided in a flash of lights as she reached her peak, and this time he caught her passionate cries in his mouth. A minute later, oxygen from his lungs filled hers as he found his release, and she held their silence by swallowing his gratified groans.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
IT WAS ALMOST three when Hugh arrived home. He showered and checked his email, then wandered around the house that didn’t really feel like a home. Brianna’s apartment felt like a home. No, that wasn’t right either. Wherever Brianna was felt like home. Yes, that was it.
He picked up his cell and punched in Treat’s speed-dial number.
“You’d better be dying,” Treat groaned.
“Nice welcome for your baby brother,” Hugh teased.
“Hold on,” Treat grumbled. Hugh listened to him walk across the floor. A door opened, then closed. Treat sighed, and Hugh pictured him in his boxer briefs, his enormous body stumbling in the dark house Hugh had yet to see.
“You all right?” Treat was more awake now, with a sharp, irritated edge.
“Sorry for calling so late. I need a favor.”
Treat sighed again.
Hugh ran his hand through his hair. “Treat. I don’t know who else to ask, man.”
“Of course. Whatever you need.”
And just like that his eldest brother, the person who had always watched out for him, taught him, riled him up like no other, and above all else, loved him, was ready to help. That was the kind of man who Hugh was striving to be.
“When you proposed to Max, remember how she rushed to our house and you showed up and she backed into your car?” He spoke fast, anxious to get his point across.
“Like it was yesterday.” Treat yawned.
“Were you guys having trouble? Why was it all so…urgent?” Hugh stood before the glass doors in the living room, one arm crossed over his abs, his other elbow leaning on his wrist.
“Hugh, this is what’s so urgent?”
“Treat, please.”
“Yeah, okay. We were having some trouble, yes, but not trouble because we didn’t want to be together. It was more like trouble because we did want to be together, but it was scary as shit.”
He heard Treat breathing as if he were pacing.
“Hugh, what’s going on?”
“I just needed to make sure I wasn’t crazy. Are you still coming to the race?”
“Planning on it, but still waiting to hear about your plans for that night.”
“Shit, I forgot. I’m sorry, man. Listen, I need a favor. It’s a big one.”
“Of course it is.”
Not for the first time, Hugh thanked the heavens above for his family.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
BRIANNA PULLED UP in front of the school Thursday morning, and when she turned to say goodbye to Layla, a knock on her car window startled her. Marissa’s mother, Cheryl, wearing thick eyeliner, red skintight jeans that accentuated her enormous ass and hips, and a thick black belt, stared into the car. She looked like Peg Bundy from Married with Children, complete with the eighties hair and spike heels. Brianna sighed and feigned a smile as she rolled down the window.
Cheap perfume assaulted her.
“Hey there, sugar.” Cheryl peered into the backseat. “Hi, Layla. How’s the birthday girl?”
“Good,” she said, unbuckling her booster seat strap.
“You know Marissa will be there today, right? We left you a message.”
“Yes, we’re looking forward to it.” Brianna glanced at Layla. “You okay, honey? You should get going.”
Layla pushed her face over the front seat and kissed Brianna’s cheek. “I love you.”
“Love you too, princess.” She watched her run out the door and into a pack of classmates, all with bright backpacks strapped to their backs like turtle shells.
“Will he be there?” Cheryl whispered.
“He who?”
Cheryl lifted her eyebrows and looked around, then pushed her head into the window and whispered, “Hugh Braden.”
“How do you know about Hugh?”
“Oh please. Do you really think you can hide a man like that?” She whipped the morning newspaper from behind her back, and on the front page of the Local News section was a photograph of Hugh’s smiling face, Brianna staring up at him like a star-struck groupie.
Holy shit.
She noticed two of Layla’s other classmates’ mothers heading for her car.
“Um, I don’t know, Cheryl, but I have to get to work. Sorry to be rude.” She rolled up the window and hightailed it out of the school parking lot.
She parked behind the tavern and dug through her purse for her phone. Damn it. She’d left it on vibrate and had three messages from Hugh. Her heart raced as she listened to them.
Hi, beautiful. Don’t freak out, but we’re in the newspaper. Complete with my proclamation of being off the market. Love you. I’ll call you later.
She groaned.
Hey, babe. Just trying to catch you before my appointment. I’ll see you tonight at Layla’s party, and I’ll try to call you later. Love you.
Why wasn’t it Friday night? Getting out of town would be so much easier.
Hey, still trying to reach you. It just dawned on me that you might be freaking out and I wanted to say…Sidecar. Love you. Don’t be scared. Nothing can ever come between us.
A call from Hugh rang through and she switched over.
“Hey there,” she said, thankful that he’d reached her this time.
“Sidecar.”
She let out a breath and felt her lips curl into a smile. “I’m not freaking out too badly.”
“I’m on my way into my meeting, so I can’t talk long, but I wanted to…no, I needed to know that you were okay.”
“I’m good. I’m not going to let my insecurities or fear come between us. How do you usually handle this stuff?” Layla’s lunch was sitting on the backseat. Crap.
“I don’t pay it any mind anymore. At first it was kind of exciting; then it became a pain in the ass. But to be honest, I’m kind of glad about this picture. Now the world knows I’m with you. That’s a good thing, because I’m ready to shout it from the rooftop.”
She pictured his eyes lighting up and his deep dimples on his perpetually unshaven and way-too-sexy cheeks. Then it hit her like a punch to the gut. “Layla. Oh God, Hugh. They’ll be all over her at school. I gotta get over there.”
“Damn it. I wish I were there. I’m sorry, Bree.”
She heard the distress in his voice. “It’s fine. I can
“Yeah, you are. Love you, babe.”
“Love you, too. I gotta go save my daughter, who is probably drama queening it up for the entire class about Prince Hugh.”
He laughed. “I can’t wait to see you.”
“Oh, wait. I’m sorry. One more thing. I was mobbed at school and they were asking if you were going to be at the birthday party. That was a little freaky.”
“Sidecar, sidecar, sidecar. I’ll leave that up to you. I don’t want to hide, and once your friends see that I’m a regular guy, they’ll get used to me and the excitement will wear off. But if you worry it’ll take the focus off of Layla, I’ll stay home.”
She sighed. “You’re so good to us. I’m not missing a minute with you because of fan girls anymore. I made a promise to myself.”
“Good. I gotta run, babe.”
She ended the call and said, “Sidecar, sidecar, sidecar,” as she threw the car into gear.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
THE FIRST THING Brianna did when she walked into the school was go to the principal’s office. Principal Shue was not known for being warm and friendly. Oh, how she’d avoided that office when she was younger. But now, after seeing Cheryl’s reaction to Hugh, the only thing that mattered was Layla’s comfort and safety. Shue had ruled the school with an iron fist when Brianna was younger. Brianna was certain she’d enforce stringent rules when it came to her daughter’s safety.
As she entered the glass doors of the main office, she remembered that Shue required appointments before ten o’clock in the morning. I am not a weak girly girl.
The school secretary, Ann Olephant, smiled when Brianna entered the office. “Brianna, how are you, dear?” She was a sweet gray-haired woman with a slight hunch in her back and silver glasses that hung from a chain around her neck and never seemed to find their way to the bridge of her nose.
“Fine, thank you. How have you been?” Brianna’s stomach clenched when she spotted Shue on the phone in her office.
“Oh lovely, dear.” She leaned across the desk and whispered, “Saw your picture in the paper.”