Too Long: Hayes Brothers Book 6

TUG OF WAR. That was today’s game. Addie was up and out of the suite before my alarm rang at eight. I found her sitting with a cup of coffee, staring out at the island on the bow of the yacht.

She’s been on edge all day, her girlfriend role not on point in the slightest. Every time I touched her, she seemed taken aback, eyes wide, body language reserved like she couldn’t comprehend why I would willingly invade her personal space.

I’ve not stopped mentally kicking myself all day for the way I handled things last night.

I don’t regret not kissing her.

Well, that’s a big fat lie, though still kind of true. I wanted to kiss her. I’ve barely thought about anything else since we met, but given how much I want it, kissing her while we’re here, acting, with rules to obey, is a bad idea. I know me. I’d lose my cool and take more than she wants to give.

No sex. That’s what she said.

If I want a chance with this girl back in Newport, I have to play my cards right.

So yeah, I regret it and don’t at the same time. I should’ve told her why I won’t do it, though. Maybe she’d still be all smiles and good mood if I had.

I can fix this with a simple conversation. I just have to tell her that I don’t want to rush. Not with her. She’s too important to me.

We met five days ago, but we’ve spent so much time together I feel like I’ve known her for months. This isn’t a casual fling. No, this has a chance of being something big.

I won’t fuck it up because I’m impatient.

Dates usually last about… what? Two to three hours? Tops. Multiply that by three dates a week, and you’d need a year to match the hundred hours plus I’ve had with Addie so far.

I doubt I’d learn half as much over a couple of dinners as I have in the past five days. I know how she takes her coffee in the morning. How she frowns when she’s annoyed, and how to tell her fake smiles from the real thing. I know she’s not a morning person. I know she’s allergic to some nuts, but not all of them. I know all the first-date things, all the things I’d learn during months of dates, and so much more.

I know what she feels like pressed against me when she sleeps. What her hair smells like. How soft she is. How warm.

And I’m growing attached at an alarming rate.

I had a long-term friends-with-benefits deal with a girl from college—Anastasia: two months here, three months there. It went on for almost two years but you could hold me at fucking gunpoint, and I wouldn’t be able to tell you what color her eyes were. I don’t even know her surname.

Running my fingers through my wet hair, I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

You have issues, man.

Yeah, I do. I’m well aware. At twenty-seven, I shouldn’t be this set on starting a family. I shouldn’t feel like my life won’t properly start until I have the same thing my brothers do.

Their happiness messed me up. Which is why I need to be careful. I’m stepping on thin ice, one false move and everything falls apart.

I was mostly okay before the accident, bitter about my single status, but fine compared to now.

Things changed the night Otis clipped the back of my Challenger. I bet things always change when you’re on the brink of death. When you die because, technically, I was dead for over four minutes.

To this day, I sometimes wake up drenched in sweat. Not because of the trauma. Not because I barely made it out alive, but because I remember heading straight for the cars parked on the sidelines and feeling fucking empty. Empty and disappointed with what flashed before my eyes.

You haven’t lived yet, but it’s time to die.

When I woke up at the hospital, alive, with the valve in my heart replaced, multiple broken bones, and a total of one hundred and thirty-nine stitches, I re-evaluated my priorities. Wife, kids, memories: that’s what I put on a pedestal.

But the longer I searched for my happily ever after, the worse I felt when nothing clicked the way my brothers described it. Now, I’m scared of that click.

I’m tired of the disappointments. Tired of getting my hopes up and then crashing with a sad, aimless reality like I crashed with the Dodge RAM.

A knock on the door snaps me back into the here and now. Back to getting ready for a movie night on the pool deck of a luxurious yacht. Back to fun-filled days with Addie. Tomorrow won’t be as much fun. We lost the tug of war, which means I’ll be paired with someone other than Addie.

And she’ll probably end up with Grant.

I can smell a fistfight in the air already.

“Give me ten minutes,” I shout at the closed door.

“Are you decent?”

“Kind of, why?”

She barges in like a woman on a mission. “Okay, I need to ask you something because I’m driving myself crazy, and if I don’t ask, I’ll keep wondering and—”

“You’re rambling. Next time you want to ask me something, ask. Don’t spend the day lying to my face that you’re fine when you’re clearly not. What is it?”

She stops pacing. Nervously smooths out her long hair, leans against the doorframe, and crosses her arms over her chest.

“We’ve been here for three days acting like a couple, but you haven’t kissed me. Not once, and when I…” She halts, balls her hands into small fists, and shoots the next words out like a machine gun. “When I wanted to kiss you last night, you pushed me away. You basically told me to chill the fuck out, Colt. Why?”

I look up, catching a blush on her cheeks. The tightness in my chest enough to choke me. She stands in the doorway like every good dream I ever had, dressed in a flowy white dress, the epitome of elegance, class, and innocence.

Beautiful. So fucking beautiful. Smart, fun.

Her dark hair cascades down her back, frames her face, and flirts with her arms. She stands there, the pink of her lips my new favorite color, the scent of her skin like a soothing blanket, and she asks why I haven’t kissed her.

“I can’t,” I say truthfully, looking back at my reflection. I already feel like I’m in a dryer on its highest spin setting whenever she’s close.

Too bad she doesn’t let it drop. Of course she doesn’t. It’s not in her nature. She’s been working herself up since last night. There’s no turning back now.

In the mirror, I see her coming closer, the delicate fabric of her dress caressing her thigh as it peeks from the long slit. She stops close enough for me to smell her perfume, and she stares, beckoning me to look at her.

“You can’t? What does that mean?”

“Drop it, Addie.”

She hops onto the cabinet by the sink, her bare knee escaping from the slit of her dress. I drop the towel over my head, drying my hair to stop myself staring.

“Is my breath smelly?” she asks.

“What?” I tug the towel off, glaring at her. “No.”

“You won’t kiss me with my parents around? Not if I’ve had a drink? Not while we’re pretending? Is it just a line you won’t cross?”

“None of the above.”

She folds her arms over her chest, a little hurt. “Am I ugly? Not skinny enough? Does the thought of kissing me repulse you?”

“No!” I ball the towel, tossing it in the sink. “Stop asking questions.”

“Why?!” she raises her voice to match mine. “Now you’ve got to know me better, I’m not your type? Is that it? Or maybe there’s someone else. You got a girl back home?”

“I’m not having this conversation.” I march away, but she adds something that, coupled with the pain in her voice, almost breaks me clean in two.

“What the hell is wrong with me that you won’t kiss me?”

I turn back and grab her by the throat, firm but gentle as I bring her face closer. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Don’t ever think that. There’s no one else back home or anywhere in the goddamn world. You’re perfect. You smell like roses in spring rain, peaches, and sugar.” I caress the column of her throat with my thumb, balling the other hand into a tight fist at my side to keep myself from grabbing her hip and yanking her into me. “You’re smart, beautiful, funny, and I can’t get enough of how absolutely fucking infuriating and nosey you are.”

“Then why won’t you kiss me?” She’s no longer shouting, she’s whispering, her sweet breath on my lips, the distance so small… so fucking small.

So tempting.

“Because if I do, if I get a taste of your lips, I won’t stop until I know what every inch of you tastes like. Until I know what makes you submit. What makes you tick, what makes you open that smart mouth and sigh my name.”

And when I know all that… I’ll want more.

She swallows, her throat pulsing under my fingers, eyes holding mine, her expression nothing short of a dare.

“You’d know that by now if you hadn’t pushed me away last night.” She raises both hands, then scrapes her nails slowly down my torso. “We both want a wild night together. We’re two consenting adults far away from our real lives, so… why not have fun while we’re here? What’s standing in your way?”

It’s hard to argue with her logic. I could argue it’s because I want more than fun from her, but there’ll be time for that later. Right now, I’m weak. I’d have to be a world-class idiot to turn down what she’s offering. Especially since I’ve imagined her naked and panting every fucking day since we met.

“You have no idea what you’re asking, Addie.” I squeeze her neck tighter. My mind’s made. The ball’s in her court and I’m about to find out how brave she really is. “Let me explain before we add benefits into the mix. You can have the worst attitude all day long but…” I dip my head, dragging my nose from her jaw to her ear, “…in bed, I don’t take that kind of behavior lightly. In bed, you’re my good girl. Submissive. You do as you’re told.”

I take one last step forward, standing between her legs, and grab her hip, yanking her closer to the edge of the cabinet. “You take what I give you,” I continue, my fingers pumping around her neck. “If I want to deny you, I will. If I want to punish you for acting out, I will. If I want to reward you with five orgasms, you’ll count.”

“Five?” she gasps, her cheeks deliciously pink as oxygen deprivation kicks in. “I’ll be impressed if you manage one.”

I cock an eyebrow. “That’s all you got to say?”

“I’d rather moan than speak.”

Fuck this girl is reckless.

Those few short words send me spiraling. I’m done. So fucking done holding back. This thing between us isn’t going to follow any standard dating timeline, but who cares? I’ll make this work whichever way I have to.

My lips come down on hers, sealing that bratty mouth and shutting up that attitude I can’t wait to tame. She’s eager. Quick to let me sink deeper, tasting her sweetness.

Boy, am I in trouble.

Everything inside me coils, tightens, knots so hard it’s almost a pain. The best flavor of pain. The freeing, arousing, exhilarating kind with the anticipation and bliss I only ever feel when my car screeches up to the start line. Now, it floods my system because of Addie. My heart swells, ramming against my ribs as her hot tongue darts out, exploring mine.

She grips fistfuls of my t-shirt, pulling herself closer, clinging to me like she can’t stand even the tiniest gap between us.

It’s everything, this kiss. It feels like I’ve been waiting a fucking lifetime to taste her.

I ignore the click in my head.

I ignore the feelings exploding in my chest.

I ignore how all my malice ebbs away, leaving a sense of peaceful rightness. Kissing her feels like the best decision I’ve ever made.

But I ignore it all, channeling that fervor into the kiss. Into the five-orgasm challenge ahead. I grab her hips, haul her into my arms, and… she feels so precious.

A fierce protectiveness seizes my mind, my every step cautious, calculated, measured, so I don’t trip. I can’t afford to hurt a hair on her pretty head.

Fuck this is intense.

Unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Just holding her sets endorphins roaring through my system. This all-consuming need to have her closer is almost too much to handle.

“Last chance to change your mind,” I say, carrying her toward the bed. I beg fate, karma, God, and the Devil not to let her back out. I’m pretty sure the disappointment would permanently damage my vital organs: heart, brain, and dick, too… “If you want to stop, now’s the time.”

Addie arches back, her delicate fingers knotted on the nape of my neck, nails scraping my scalp, sending tingles all over my skin. “Nervous you won’t make good on your promise? It’s okay. One orgasm will be enough. No pressure.”

I love that teasing edge to her. And I’ll love taming it.

“You’ll beg for mercy after the third one. You’ll give me a color when I ask for it.” I lay her on the bed. “Green when you love what I’m doing to you.” I climb over her, briefly closing those plump lips with mine while I help her out of her dress. “Yellow when you want me to slow down or ease up. And red if you want me to stop.”

The dress comes off, the sight before me tearing a low growl from my chest. Beige panties and a matching, plain bra. No lace. No bright colors, and somehow, the simple set that almost melts into her complexion is the most arousing thing ever.

“Red is your safe word,” I say, watching her squirm as she eyes the bulge in my pants. I grip her chin between my thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at me. “Focus for one more minute, pretty girl. It’s important. I won’t stop unless you use the safe word. You can scream stop until you’re blue, but I won’t listen unless you say red. Say it, and I stop immediately, understood?”

She nods, wrestling with my t-shirt. “Stop talking, start working. We have forty minutes. That’s an orgasm every eight minutes or we’ll be late for dinner and movies.”

“Careful, Addie. You’re acting out. You’ll end up frustrated if you keep talking back.”

I get off the bed, grab her thighs, and yank her to the edge, kneeling on the fluffy carpet. Her surprised gasp morphs into a moan when I hoist her legs over my shoulders and latch onto the soft skin of her inner thigh, spreading her open with one hand, the other splayed over her stomach.

“Colt, I—”

“Quiet, baby,” I rasp, staring at the wet patch of beige between her legs.

I head straight there, kissing my way down her leg. She smells divine. Peaches. Sugar. Sex. She tastes like it, too. I slowly drag my tongue over the soaked fabric, savoring the moment as her arousal fills my mouth.

My brakes snap.

The need to suck her into my mouth and get a proper taste drives me feral. In one swift tug, I rip off her panties, loving the mewling little sounds she makes as she anchors herself to the sheets with both hands.

“I want you to watch, Addie,” I say, hooking my arms around her thighs.

Her cheeks pink up, but she quickly rises on her elbows, watching me lick her again. Her legs buck over my shoulders as she squirms, arching back and pressing herself harder into my face the faster I flick her clit with the tip of my tongue.

A symphony of her breaths, soft moans, and gasps fills the room, spurring me on. I could spend hours buried between her thighs. Hours eating her out, listening to how much she loves my mouth on her sweet pussy.

“Oh shit, I’m—” She pauses, her thighs squeezed around my ears so tight I barely hear her say, “I’m so close…”

I’m dying to push two fingers inside so I can feel her walls clench, but not yet. I want her first orgasm on my lips.

She can’t stay still. She pivots her hips and grips my hair, grinding harder the closer she is. I’m in love with the look of her: so real, raw, and beautiful as she chases the orgasm.

And when it hits with the next flick of my tongue, she falls back, unable to hold herself up. Her spine bows away from the mattress, face flushing pink as she holds her breath, and every muscle in her body seizes for two short seconds before she vibrates beneath me, moaning softly.

“There it is,” I whisper, licking her clean. “Count, Addie.”

She hums quietly, brushing long hair off her face before a barely audible “one” leaves her swollen lips.

I can’t wait for two, so I don’t. I dive back into work, slipping two fingers inside her warm pussy before she’s even come down from the first high.