I frown and shake my head defensively. “I’m not as perfect as you’re building me up to be in your head, Hayden. You want me to stop treating you like you’re fragile—I want you to stop treating me like I’m Her Majesty the Queen. I’m far from it.” I laugh as I think of a way to prove my point. “I was the type of kid who played hide and seek and yelled to the seeker where I was hiding! Kids hated playing with me on the playground because I never played games the way everyone else did.”
He roars with laughter at my sudden light-hearted change of tone. Despite my urgency over breaking his twisted view of me, this reaction still pleases me, so I continue. “It’s true. I’m always going to be that person who never quite gets it all done perfectly. I might send a gift, but it won’t be wrapped. I might remember your birthday, but you probably won’t get a card. I might want to send out Christmas cards myself, but I just won’t ever get it done. I’m not crafty…at all. Pinterest looks like prison to me. I’m probably going to over-bake the biscuits the one time of year when someone actually needs them for something. Even though I love cooking, I love picking up take away just as much. But I’ll probably call ahead and go to the wrong shop first. I’ll always be home late because I’m a horrible judge of time—”
“If you’re trying to put me off, you’re failing miserably, Vi,” Hayden interrupts. His brow is furrowed and there’s an oddly serious heaviness to his posture.
“Aren’t you listening?” I exclaim. “I’m a mess.”
He shakes his head and slides out of the booth to tuck himself in next to me. He rests one arm on the back of the booth and cups my cheek with his other hand. My eyes flutter closed as I become intoxicated by the overwhelming sawdust and shower scent that’s so deliciously Hayden.
A secretive grin plays on the corners of his mouth. “Everything you said sounds utterly charming, deliriously adorable, and…because it’s about you…sexy as fuck.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re hopeless.”
Without warning, he holds my face in place and presses his lips mine. “I am hopelessly falling for you, Vi Harris.”
My chest shudders at his declaration. “Feeling’s mutual, Hayden Clarke,” I reply on a swoony sigh that would embarrass me if only I gave a shit right now. Bloody hell, Hayden wanting me more after unloading that lot is a turn on of epic proportions.
After we devour our pizzas and more fizzy bubbles of Italian soda, we walk hand-in-hand to the cinema that sits only a couple of blocks away from my flat. Grabbing two seats in the far back row of the nearly empty cinema, we cuddle up, preparing for a simple movie-watching experience.
I’m not sure who started it or what atmospheric shift occurred, but somewhere along the way, things changed. Hayden’s grip on my hand shifted ever so slightly, and I knew instantly that he was no longer focusing on the flick.
I turn and our eyes connect in the dim, flickering theatre lights. Biting my lip, I get turned on watching his eyes on my mouth. A hunger, thick and rich, implodes inside of me when he releases my hand and moves his warm touch to my bare legs. I could scream with joy that there’s nobody sitting anywhere near us when I brazenly uncross my legs.
I’ve never been sexually promiscuous. Like, ever. I had never even seen the majority of the things at Leslie’s hen night party. I also never would have called myself an exhibitionist, but what’s happening to my body right now is not up for debate. It’s intense and heavy and I want it right the fuck now.
“Vi?” Hayden whispers my name in question, tickling my inner thighs.
I bite my lip and nod shamelessly as I shift down in my seat. I snatch my denim jacket off the chair next to me and toss it over my legs to conceal the place that his hand is currently en dangerous route to. Definitely a place I wouldn’t normally have opened for visitors in the middle of a public theatre, but fuck a duck, this is Hayden we’re talking about. I drop my head back on the chair and turn to him to whisper in his ear. “I need you, Hayden. Right now.”
He clears his throat and my inner thigh muscles clench with satisfaction at his blatantly ruffled feathers. He slides down in his seat a bit too, allowing him better access, and resumes his travelling pursuit between my thighs. His finger tips are firm and slightly rough, only further intensifying all of my sensations. They finally reach my centre and he begins stroking me through the flimsy fabric of my thong. I stifle a moan and grab his wrist aggressively just as he pinches my clit. He freezes and tenses, but I’m not worried about him right now. I maintain my ironclad grip on his leather cuff, doing my best to gain control over myself. Finally, when I think I can handle more without screaming out in ecstasy, I release his wrist and trail my fingers up his forearm, gliding them along the crook near his bicep.
Slowly, he slips one finger around the fabric and brushes against my bare slit. My teeth crush down on my lower lip so hard I can feel the bumpy muscle beneath the skin. I should feel embarrassed by how soaked I am already, but fuck…everything he does to me feels so good right now. All I can feel in this one moment is excitement. Excitement from the naughtiness. Excitement from the location. Excitement from fucking Hayden.
Fucking Hayden.