Contingent Page 7

  “You have a girlfriend now, Haas. Play with her.” It was the last shred of fight I had left in me. I was only human, and saying no to the man who held my soul was impossible.

  “It’s not what you think. Trust me, doll.” His hands released mine and grasped the nape of my neck. “Please.” He looked up, devouring me with each passing second. “I’ve missed you. I need you. I need to play.”

  Powerless? No, I was a goner. A sucker. I was his even though we were no longer together. There was no denying it. I belonged to him. I couldn’t deny him—ever. My tongue slipped out, sliding along my upper lip.

  “Let’s play.” My voice felt like a suffocated whisper.

  Lips that were made perfectly for me crashed over mine. I became a chocolate molten lava cake melting into his touch. Haas grunted, pressing his erection against me. I moaned between breaths, needing his touch to ease the ache that was growing between my legs.

  I opened my mouth wider for him, tasting his tongue that twirled around mine. Panting for air, I gripped the back of his hair. I wanted to climb up his body, press my body against his.

  It was like he read my mind. His hands wrapped around my thighs, lifting me. My legs hugged his waist, his thick, ready cock adding pressure to my throbbing clit. Haas stumbled out of the living room and headed towards my bedroom. I yanked my jacket off, tossing it to the floor in the hallway. My shirt followed suit. Haas slammed my back against the wall before we even made it to my room, his mouth attacking my covered breast.

  “Show them to me,” he grunted, pressing his cock against my clit again.

  His words fueled me. My hands tugged on my bra, exposing my breasts to him. His lips wrapped around my nipple, his tongue circling my nipple ring.

  “Oh, God,” I moaned, my head slamming against the wall. It was what I wanted, what I needed, but something was wrong.

  At the end of this he would still go home to her.

  “Wait.”

  Pushing off his chest, I tugged on my leg until he let go.

  “What is it?”

  “You . . . We . . . You have to go, Haas.”

  “Lynn—”

  “Now!”

  I picked my shirt up from the ground and tugged it back over my head. His eyes drank me in, but I couldn’t fall for it. He needed to leave.

  Without giving him a chance to protest, I jogged to the living room. Holding the door open, I watched him walk towards me, but my eyes darted to the street to avoid his gaze.

  I slammed the door behind him. My hands trembled as I strode to the kitchen. Yanking the fridge open I pulled out a bottle of Poland Springs. My breath came out in spurts as I swallowed the cold water. My skin still tingled where he had touched me.

  The light tap on the front door sounded like a jackhammer in the silent house. He was still out there.

  “Braelynn.”

  My feet led me to the door. I couldn’t stay away. Resting my hand on the hardwood, I imagined him behind it. I tried to stay strong, I tried to make my hand stop turning the door knob.

  But love was one hell of an ass. It made you do foolish things.

  “Please, doll. I need you.”

  Haas had never begged; he had never looked as distraught as he did outside my door. He needed me and I needed to feed my addiction.

  I drew my T-shirt over my head, tossing it to the ground. Haas stepped inside, locking the door behind him. Within seconds, he’d lifted me in his arms as if the past ten minutes hadn’t happened.

  By the time he carried me into my room, I was ready to explode. He dropped me on my bed and my hands rushed to his pants, unbuttoning his jeans. Our breaths were heavy, as though getting undressed was exhausting. Haas tossed his shirt and kicked off his jeans and boxers.

  “Lay down. I need to have you.” His handsome face was kindled with passion.

  I swallowed hard as I shoved out of my jeans and moved up my bed. Haas stroked his ready cock, studying my body laid out on my bed. His carnal gaze electrified my skin; the desire and want I observed in his eyes soaked my already damp panties. I spread my legs for him.

  Haas’s bare body crawled onto the bed, and his hands slid up my legs, stopping at the backs of my knees to grab hold and tug.

  Pulling me towards him, he aligned himself with my core. I ached to be touched. I was an addict salivating for my next fix. I craved him more than any drug.

  He didn’t speak. He tore my panties and rubbed the tip of his cock along my soaked core, once, twice, and on the third time sank deep inside me.

  I screamed from his thickness. My hands reached behind me to grasp the bed frame for support. Hass kneeled on the bed, his hands locked around my waist as he began to pump inside me. His fingertips dug into my backside. He was hungry for me. He needed to bury himself deeper with every thrust.

  “Mine,” he moaned under his grunts. “God, Lynn, I need it. Come for me,” he pleaded. “Show me that you are still mine, love.”

  I released the iron headboard and grazed my finger over my swollen bud. I had been so hot and ready for him that it only took a minute before I was coming for him as he requested.

  Hass increased his pace, slamming into me until I screamed his name from the high I was on. His release followed closely, his body falling over me until his tremors ceased.

  Out of breath, Hass brought his lips to mine. “You ready to play?”

  “What?” My breath matched his.

  “That was just the warm-up, doll.” His eyes were hooded like a hawk. Before I could object, he shifted behind me and he sank back into my core.

  With his body resting heavy on top of mine, we tried to catch our exhausted breaths. The past hour had consisted of teasing, licking and a shit load of screwing, but we were finally done. The carnal want was gone and the need to snuggle with Peyton had returned. I wanted the boyfriend part of it now. The man who would brush my hair with his hands and hold me close to his heart. Not the asshole who had hurt me in so many ways.

  What had also returned was my anger and hurt. He had a girlfriend, and I was now a side piece he needed to play with. An old toy someone else had shown interest in. That’s what I was. He had given me up; placed me on a shelf and started playing with a new shiny toy. It wasn’t until Landon showed some kind of interest in me that he returned, banging at my door and begging to play. And like a love drunk idiot, I’d fallen into his trap.

  I pushed on his chest to shove his body off me. Kicking my legs over the side of the bed, I looked at him over my shoulder. “You need to leave.”

  “Lynn—”

  “Stop! Don’t say another word. I’ve had enough. Enough! You can’t keep running back to me every time you are bored or someone takes me out. There is no more you and me.” I grabbed my robe from the back of my bedroom door before looking back at him. “I can’t be someone to keep you warm while your girlfriend is out of town. Stop this!” My voiced cracked as broken sobs tried to unleash themselves. “You know I can’t ever say no to you and that you will always have some sick hold over my heart, but this can’t happen again.”

  Haas was off the bed, coming towards me. Unable to take the comfort he offered, I turned my back to him. He reached out for me, tracing the branches of the tattoo covering my back. “It’s not what you think—”

  “I don’t give a fuck what it is,” I cried out. “I’m exhausted. This run around train with you is draining. You can’t show up at my house, corner me in a room, or follow me down a beach. It all has gone too far, Haas. You need to let me move on. I can only take so much before I snap.” I wrapped my robe around my body and yanked the door open. “I’m going to take a shower. When I come out, I want you gone.”

  “Braelynn—”

  “Gone, Haas. Out of my house. Out of my life.” I walked down the hallway towards the bathroom. Tears dripped from my face, but I didn’t look back. I didn’t want to show him how broken I was.

  I stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around my damp hair. His scent was everywhere.
I could smell him—us—but my house was cold and lonely. I pressed my fingers into the sockets of my eyes, pushing on the migraine that was building behind them. Dressed in yoga pants and a T-shirt, I walked towards the kitchen. I needed a pint of Talenti and hours of terrible reality TV to make me feel better.

  Gus sat on a stool at the kitchen island with his Beats headphones plugged into his laptop. He slid them off his ears when he noticed me walk in.

  “Hey, baby girl.”

  I swallowed hard. “Hey . . .” I yanked back the freezer door and took out a pint of gelato. “Did you see him leave?” I asked when I had a spoon in hand. My voice carried a twinge of disappointment.

  “Yeah,” his eyes avoided mine. “When I first came home, I thought maybe you were knocking boots with Landon, but I noticed Peyton’s car outside the house. I’d hoped you two were working things out, but judging by his hasty departure and the look on your face, I’m guessing it didn’t go so well.”

  I swallowed back the large amount of ice cream in my mouth and shook my head. “Nope, It didn’t go so well. I’m a fucked up person,” I muttered. A heaviness centered around my chest.

  “No, you’re not.”

  “I am, Gus. I was on a date with a great guy and the second my ex showed up I spread my legs for him.” I wrapped my hands around my head, hiding in my cocoon of anguish.

  Gus closed his laptop and hopped off the barstool. “Okay, maybe that’s a little fucked up. Especially since you are probably going to be all over social media tomorrow.”

  I shifted my attention from my ice cream. “What do you mean?”

  “Landon has a pretty big following on all social media platforms. He was tagged all over Twitter for being at the game tonight. Pretty soon pictures of you two will be up there as well.” He took a bottle of water from the fridge. It was past two in the morning, but Gus was a night owl.

  “I don’t want to know. Whatever you see on there, whatever the media spins or says, I don’t want to know. I just want to curl under the covers for the next few days.”

  “But was it at least a good date?” His features were hopeful.

  “It was a perfect date. Too bad I can’t see him ever again.” I took my ice cream to the couch and pulled the comforting throw across my body. I spent the night on the couch since my room reeked of Haas.

  Braelynn

  My date night was all over social media.

  I lay on the couch, contemplating if I wanted to read what they were saying about me. It was one date. I didn’t kiss him; it could have been two friends watching the game. My fingers tapped the link, and a celebrity news website popped up.

  Peyton Haas’s Former Girlfriend Has Moved on to the Major League.

  I slid my finger over the phone looking for a picture of us. Halfway down the article there we were, my head resting on Landon’s chest after the ball had been tossed in our direction.

  Jenkins has no problem cozying up next to his date.

  My fingers itched to scroll back up. I wanted to read every article that had been released, but I knew better. Logging out of the application completely, I decided it would be best to ignore what anyone was saying. It wasn’t as if they knew the truth. No one knew that Peyton had showed up at my house later on.

  Tossing the throw blanket off my body, I stretched my arms above my head. The sore ache in my muscles reminded me of what had happened here last night. “Damn you, Haas.”

  After I was showered and dressed for work, I grabbed my cup of coffee and stepped out of the house. Thomas’s car waited for me.

  “Ms. Wolf,” Thomas greeted me as he opened the back door.

  “Hi, Thomas.” I smiled at him, stopping short of the car’s back door. “I appreciate it, but going forward I will no longer be needing your services.”

  “But Mr. Haas, insisted—”

  “Mr. Haas and I are no longer together. And given that fact, I do not feel comfortable having you as my driver.”

  Before Thomas had the chance to object, I began walking towards the subway stop. I was cutting all my ties with Peyton. He had wanted this breakup and I needed it to be a clean break.

  The stench of the subway never changed. Regardless the time of the year, it reeked of garbage on a hot summer day. Avoiding touching the handles, I found an empty seat between two commuters. I reached in my tote to grab my phone and headphones. A missed text message from Landon flashed on my now unlocked phone.

  Landon: Thank you for last night.

  Me: :)

  Yes, I was taking the easy way out by sending him an emoticon, but how could I ever look at him the same. A few words from Haas, and I was falling at his feet. I was in love with another man. Seeing Landon again wouldn’t be fair to him, and I refused to string him along. I needed to get over Haas before I could date anyone else.

  A few weeks had passed since my date with Landon and my rendezvous with Haas. Gus said I had turned into a hermit, and he was right. Landon had reached out to me twice, once to ask me out again and the second time he called but didn’t leave a voicemail so I assumed he lost interest. He was a professional athlete; women probably lined up to have a date with him.

  Haas had also disappeared. My heart raced each time my calendar marked a court date, but the few times I’d appeared in court, he wasn’t there. But I knew Haas was still an overbearing asshole because Thomas continued to follow me around Manhattan.

  Curled under a blanket on the corner lounge chair, my case briefs tossed on top of my coffee table, I indulged in a hot cocoa and Orange is the New Black. There was work that I needed to get to, but the rain outside didn’t help my mood. It had poured for the past forty-eight hours and there was no sign of it passing. Skipping the gym, I snuggled into my favorite comfy pajama pants and oversized T-shirt. I wasn’t moving from this position.

  The vibrating sound on the coffee table took my focus off the television. When it vibrated again, I grunted that someone was disrupting my Crazy Eye scene, muting the TV, I answered my cell phone. “Hey, Lo.”

  “Hi, baby girl. Did I catch you at a bad time?” Since Haas and I had broken up, Loren reached out at least three times a week.

  “No, I’m watching Orange is the New Black.”

  “Oh, is it any good? I need to catch up on all the shows I have DVR’d before I begin binge watching.” In the background, I could hear pots and pans banging.

  “It’s really good. I’m obsessed. I’m playing hooky from the gym and have not moved from the couch since I got home from work.”

  “I was thinking you should come up for the weekend.”

  “I don’t know, Lo.” I weighed the option. “I’m thinking of laying low this weekend.” I had laid low for the past few weekends.

  “Gus is away with Jon, and I know all you’re going to do is watch TV and eat ice cream. You can do that here.” Gus, the traitor, had reached out to Loren. Asshat!

  “That’s not all I’m going to do,” I lied.

  “I can tell when you’re lying even over the phone.”

  Exhaling loudly, I gave in. “Fine, I’ll come up.”

  “Just so you know, I have to work on Saturday.” She’d casually slid that information in.

  “Jennifer is making you work Saturday?” My sister had worked for Jennifer for seventeen years. She had become a second mother to me and an older sister to Loren. And as far back as I could remember, Loren had never worked on weekends.

  “No, it’s for a friend of hers. She’s having an engagement party and asked Jennifer if I could help out with serving the food and keeping an eye on the servants.”

  Loren’s response piqued my interest. “What friend?” Jennifer and Haas’s families lived within the same social circle. Yes, I was keeping tabs on him any way I could which recently included Googling his name. I kept hoping to see a split between him and Devon, but instead the websites were all about how the happy couple was still going strong though they lived in different states. I knew better than to trust the media, but I couldn’t
pull my eyes away.

  “The bride to be is Tiffany Cunningham.” Loren brought me back to reality. “It’s at her mother’s estate.”

  “Do you need help? If I’m coming up, it makes no sense for me to just sit in your living room. I can do that here,” I offered.

  “I’m more than positive they need extra hands. I’ll reach out to Mrs. Cunningham and I’ll let you know.”

  By late Friday afternoon, I’d found an empty seat on the train and had my Kindle ready with my next book. I’d left the office an hour early, stopped at home to change and grab my bag before heading to Penn Station. As I watched the train leave the state of New York, I started to think about Peyton and wondered what he was doing at that very moment. My heart still missed him.

  As sorrow flowed through my body, anger quickly followed it. They always worked hand in hand when I thought about him. Reading wouldn’t stop my mind from the thoughts; I needed loud music. I plugged my headphones in my ear and blasted the music on my phone to tune my voice in my head out. There was no point of thinking about him. What we had was over.

  When Loren picked me up at the train station, her arms wrapped tightly around me as though she had not seen me in months. We drove from the train station straight to the grocery store. Filling her pantry with junk food was a must for our sister weekend.

  The groceries were put away, the pajamas were on, and the marathon of classic eighties movies had begun.

  Saturday morning, Loren was up early preparing breakfast before we had to head over to the Cunningham’s estate. Sluggish and in need of caffeine, I strolled into Loren’s tiny kitchen. She had bought this house my senior year of high school. It was a small cape cod with two bedrooms and one bathroom, and it was the first place we were really able to call home.

  Loren had painted every room but one in a bright color. She stated we had lived with enough darkness in our lives that we needed a home that was filled with light. When I asked her why the living room was staying its nude dull color, her response was, “well what other color would a living room be.”