Breaking Hailey: Chapter 27

I swallow hard, coming down from the high. There’s nothing more addictive than seeing Nash between my legs, sucking and licking like making me orgasm is his life’s mission.

I finally got what I’ve been hoping for since we met. The kind of memories I wish I had from the two years I spent in college because my God, his tongue on my clit is amazing.

But no. Instead of the good stuff, all I get is Alex shoving his cock down my throat.

My chest rises and falls faster, my eyes on Nash as he kisses every scar he can reach on his way up my body.

“You don’t—”

“Shh,” he whispers, kissing the still-fresh scar marking my shoulder. “I know you hate them, but I don’t.”

“How do you know I hate them?” I narrow my eyes when he kisses my nose.

“You cover these up with clothes or concealer and…” He skims his parted lips over the fading marks along my neck. “You wear a scarf or pull your hair forward to hide those.”

A pleasant flutter starts low in my belly. He paid attention… noticed things no one else did. Even when his mood swung from angry to nice, even when I was certain he didn’t care about me at all, he paid attention.

“Nash…” I brace my hands against his chest to prop him up. “You’re getting me wet again.”

“Am I?” he smirks, one eyebrow arched. It’s not the irritating, self-assured smirk I’ve seen so many times. This is genuine delight. “I’ll have to do something about that, don’t you think?”

Dragging my hands down his back, I grip the hem of his t-shirt, tugging it off to reveal his inked chest.

I was too far gone last night, too focused on my orgasm to really look at his tattoos, but now, in broad daylight, I marvel at the intricate art adorning his tanned skin, well-defined muscles, and broad shoulders.

I drag my fingers down his arms, squeezing the biceps as I go and he takes my mouth in a heated kiss, slipping his tongue inside like he’s trying to distract me.

Or work me up again.

I break the kiss, pushing him away.

“Stay still,” I whisper, tracing the eagle’s wings stretching over the bottom half of his pecs.

The bird is in flight, probably mid-hunt, his talons reaching down. Lower, two revolvers follow the curve of his ribs, while angels flank the eagle. Ace of spades and ace of hearts, roses with thorns, diamonds, casino chips, words I don’t understand. There’s no rhyme or rhythm, but the designs work as a whole.

There are more, disappearing under the waistline of his jeans. His muscles tense at my touch, the six-pack more defined when I glide my fingers along the beltline, coming back up on the other side to navigate his ribs.

“You look fascinated,” he says, hovering above me, the weight of his body supported by his outstretched arms.

“You have scars, too…” I say, a few bumping under my fingertips. “What about here?” I lift my head, kissing the top half of his bare pecs. “Why no ink?”

He has two arrows pointing outward in the crooks of his shoulders and Caesar’s laurel under his collarbones, then more words run down his neck on either side, but the tops of his pecs aren’t inked.

“Still thinking what I want here.” He grips my wrist, pinning it to the pillow by my head. “Do you have any?”

I shake my head, unconvincingly. I didn’t scrutinize my body for tattoos after I woke up at the hospital. I’m pretty certain that by now I’ve seen myself in the mirror from every angle, but I might have missed a tiny one.

“You don’t know.” Nash reads my mind, quickly helping me out of the t-shirt. “Let’s see.”

I don’t voice any protest when he sits back on his calves, dragging my leg up to rest my foot against his warm chest.

“Are your feet always this cold?” He turns my ankle left and right, inspecting every inch.

“That I know.” I smile relaxing into the pillow. “They are.”

I lie naked before him, a sight I don’t enjoy, but the raw awe in his dark eyes tells me he does.

I’ve never been this comfortable in my skin. Never felt as pretty as I do right now. It’s the most empowering feeling.

“You pushed them between my thighs last night in your sleep…” he continues, his voice husky. “Colder than ice.” He lifts my other foot and rests it beside the first. “Do it again tonight.”

My blood runs a fever at the thought.

He wants me in his bed again? To sleep?

I jerk when he finds a ticklish spot under my knee, and another genuine, tiny smile graces his handsome face. The corners of his mouth barely twitch, but his eyes tell me he’s pleased.

“Nothing so far.” Dropping my feet back on the bed, he ghosts his big hands up my thighs. “Nothing here, either, but…” He maneuvers himself between my legs.

“You already checked there.”

“I was too busy tasting to look for tattoos, pretty girl.” He spreads me with his thumbs, licking a path to my clit.

I grasp the sheets with both hands, my abdomen contracting as I melt into the mattress. “You’re not looking.”

“Just one more taste,” he grunts, dragging the flat of his tongue between my pussy lips. “So sweet.”

“Tattoos, Nash.”

He inches away, studying the bare skin between my legs. The fire burning in his eyes makes me feel even prettier.

“And? Anything?”

“Everything,” he whispers, licking me again. “Give me one more orgasm and we’ll head down for breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I’m fucking starving, pretty girl.” He latches onto my clit, flicking his tongue fast over the aching spot, his big hands toying with my boobs.

Not for long, because within a minute, he moves one hand to cover my mouth, making me realize I have zero control over the sounds I make when he’s between my legs. He sucks again, his hot tongue playing me like an instrument and the pressure mounts, the orgasm rushing to the surface.

A loud knock shakes the door, making my eyes pop open and the top half of my body bow off the bed. Nash doesn’t stop. Not for another few seconds until a familiar voice seeps into the room.

“Sorry to… interrupt, but I need a word,” Chloe says from outside.

“Zero respect for mealtimes,” Nash huffs, his biceps bulging as he brings himself up, his features pinched. “Don’t move, Hailey. I’m not done here.”

“I can tell it’s not a good time, but I…” Chloe continues. “Well, I’m looking for Hailey. She’s not in her room. Have you seen her?”

“More of her than you want to know, Chloe,” he whispers, bending his elbow like he’s doing a push-up, and kisses my lips. “Don’t move.”

He shimmies into his t-shirt, crosses the room and cracks the door open, enough to see Chloe but block her view.

“Hi,” Chloe chirps, uncertainty in her tone. “Is Hailey here? You left the party together last night so I figured—”

“She’s here and she’s fine.”

“Oh, okay, good. You have a visitor, Hailey,” she says louder. “Dear Melinda’s looking all over the place for you.”

I fetch my discarded t-shirt from between the pillows, jump out of bed, and duck under Nash’s arm as soon as I’m decent. “Did she say who it is?”

“Oh, thank God you’re okay, babe.”

“Of course she’s okay,” Nash clips, his arm pulling me flush against his chest. “She asked you a question. Who’s the visitor?”

“Some guy. Tall, old… Melinda didn’t introduce us.”

“My dad,” I breathe, trying to wriggle out of Nash’s hold, but he pulls me further into him. “He’s probably freaking out that I’m not in my room. Where are they?”

“Cafeteria. I’ll tell them I found you and you’ll be down in ten…” She cocks an eyebrow at me, “…fifteen minutes, shall I?”

With a wry smile when I nod, she marches down the corridor, her soft steps barely detectable in the hum of conversations blending together as they seep from the surrounding rooms.

Nash closes the door, spins me around, and presses me against the hard, cold wood, his brown eyes annoyed, a frown creasing his forehead. “Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why is your dad here, Hailey?”

The steady thump of his heart contradicts the wild look on his face and I realize why he’s so agitated.

“I don’t know.” I pinch my lips into a thin line, holding off a smile. “He didn’t tell me he was coming.”

Nash is an enigma. I’ve seen so many sides of him already, and I have a soft spot for every single one. From the downright rude and aggressive, through helpful, and somewhat friendly, to this protective man before me.

He’s all those things and more. Layers upon layers of personality, some meticulously hidden away, peeking out when his guard slips, some on display, all equally alluring.

“I’m sure he’s only visiting,” I say, smoothing the nonexistent creases on his t-shirt. “He won’t take me away.”

Looks like I struck a chord, because he leans in, pressing his lips to mine. “He better not. I’ll find you, Hailey. You can’t hide from me, pretty girl.”

“Wasn’t my intention. I’ll come over when he’s gone, okay?”

“I’ll stop by your room when I’m done. I have a few things I need to take care of.” He pushes away from me, his shoulders still squared. “Go on, Hailey. Go see what your dad wants. It must be important if he came all the way from Ohio.”