The Hustle (Irreparable #4) (14 page)

I pump my hips, wanting to reach the brink as quickly as possible. Maybe later, I’ll go slow and savor the moment, but right now, I seek escape from my thoughts.

It doesn’t take long for my balls to tingle. Warmth spreads down my legs and up my groin as my body goes rigid on release. I stay buried inside of Peyton until my head clears and until I’m ready for more.

Now I shall take my time and enjoy how incredibly beautiful it is to be inside of her.

J
ust before bedtime, I allow Javier to watch a movie while Eduardo busies himself in the study. The missing cell phone has taunted my thoughts all evening. I start in the foyer, searching to see if I dropped it anywhere before making my way to the bathroom.

It’s vanished.

As I exit the bathroom, I run into Marco, who nods for me to go with him outside. I follow him out and he tips his head for me to come closer until we’re out of camera shot.

“Looking for this?” he whispers.

“How did you get that?”

“I’m not an idiot, Maria. And neither is Eduardo. I pulled it from your jacket when Eduardo took you upstairs. It’s a good thing, too. He searched the pockets when he came down. He doesn’t trust you and you should never believe for a second that he does.”

“Marco, the cameras will have seen you.”

“As I said, I’m not an idiot. I wasn’t seen. I’m going to give it to you because I know you’ll do something more dangerous if I don’t, but you must return it to me when you’re done so he never finds it. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good, you have ten minutes. Use it somewhere you aren’t seen.”

He’s taken by surprise when I hug him. “Thank you, Marco. I knew you were a good guy.”

“I care about your father, but if you get caught, I can’t protect you.”

“I know,” I whisper before I go back inside.

The fan buzzing in the bathroom should muzzle the typing. Emotions zip through me as I type, everything from nervous excitement to debilitating fear, but none strong enough to stop me.

I
toss the sheet over a sleeping Peyton before getting out of bed and strolling to the kitchen. Sid phoned earlier to let me know he filed a police report on her behalf, but she’ll have to go to the station in the morning and speak with a detective before an arrest can be made. She put on a tough face, but I know she’s scared and not just of her coworker. Eduardo harming her lingers in the back of her mind as it does mine. Failing her is not an option. I’ll die before I let him near Peyton.

My cell phone buzzes on the counter and I see a text from an unknown number. It reads,
My dear.
That’s it. I consider replying, but as Peyton strolls into the kitchen wearing nothing but one of my T-shirts, I decide the messenger probably had the wrong number.

“I’m starving,” she mumbles.

“Maybe we should eat more and fuck less,” I say with a smirk.

She flips me off and opens the fridge. The under curve of her fine ass peeks out from the bottom of my T-shirt as she leans over looking for something. My dick takes immediate notice. When she sets a jar of pickles and a bottle of ranch dressing on the counter, what she’s concocting holds my focus. She grabs a bowl from the cupboard and then squirts ranch into it. I exaggerate gagging when she dips a pickle chip into the ranch and eats it.

“Want one?” She holds out a pickle chip, dripping in slimy white dressing.

My face squishes up by itself as I stare at her offering in disgust. “I’m never kissing you again.”

“Liar.” She bites down on the pickle and dressing runs down the side of her mouth. She ignores it and continues crunching.

“You Shingle Springs’ girls are classy,” I tease, wiping her mouth with a paper towel.

I can’t help but laugh as she sucks her fingers in mock fashion.

“Let’s go out to dinner?” I ask.

“Like an actual date?”

“Yes, as long as you think you can chew with your mouth closed . . . Ouch,” I scream when she smacks me in the arm.

She slips my T-shirt over her head, exposing her beautiful naked body as she saunters to the bedroom. I love that she’s not shy. As if she has no insecurities beneath the surface that could ruin what we have. As long as I keep my issues in check, a relationship between us could actually work.

My dick beckons me to stay in, but I want to take her out and show her she’s more than a bang buddy. Or maybe it’s myself I want to convince.

Either way, this is the first time in forever that I’ve wanted to be out and seen with someone.

P
eyton glows as she exits the bedroom in a sleek black dress and a new pair of tall black heels that make me weak in the knees.

“Stunning,” I compliment, taking her hand and spinning her one time.

She curtsies in gratitude. “This is the fanciest thing I brought with me.”

“It’s perfect.” My gaze scours over her curves until settling on her feet. “But can you walk in those?”

“I’m a pro.” She lifts an eyebrow.

“Special school you Shingle Springs’ girls go to?”

“No.” I grab her wrist when she starts to smack me again. “A mama with a serious shoe addiction. I used to prance around the house in all of them and now I have my own collection.”

I open the front door, guiding her into the hallway. “I’m not complaining.”

We walk hand in hand a few blocks to my favorite steakhouse in the Gas Lamp. The hostess seats us at a quiet table near the window. While Peyton looks over the menu, I take my time observing little things about her. Like how her hair is always tucked behind her ear on the right side, but she purses her lips to the left when she thinks. Her shoulders are always high, part of the confidence that drew me to her from the start.

I’m not sure what I’m looking for. Perhaps an explanation of why I can’t stay away from her. The waiter interrupts my thoughts. Peyton orders her steak rare and a beer. She’s definitely not the type I typically find myself with. Maybe that’s the draw.

The waiter leaves us and I take her hand. “So, I know where you’re from, but tell me more about you.”

She shrugs and for the first time I spot a chink in the armor of confidence she usually wears. “My father’s a fireman. My mom’s a school teacher. Basically, I had a normal ordinary childhood.”

“And you make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

“Oh, no, but boring. I’ve always longed to be a city girl.” Her eyebrows knit together. “I mean, I don’t have any rock stars or CEO’s in my family.”

Funny how my life appears to people on the outside. “I’ll trade you.” I laugh nervously.

“What about your parents? What are they like?”

There’s no sense in lying to her. My past is all over the internet. Any truth she wants to learn about me can be accessed with a few clicks. “My mom’s a murdering psychopath and my spineless father’s in prison.”

“Come on,” she balks. “I’m being serious.”

She waits with her eyebrows high.

“So am I.”

“Oh.”

A laugh escapes as I grin. “Seriously, you can Google it.”

She frowns. “I’m sorry.”

I wave my hand. “Ancient history.”

I’m long over focusing on my parents. They laid the groundwork, but I fucked up my life all on my own.

“Maybe, but your past is always going to be there, waiting to remind you of who you were or where you came from. You decide how much power those memories have.”

That’s the second time she’s mentioned not allowing the past to control me. Thankfully the waiter arrives with the bottle of wine I ordered before I think too hard about what she said. The power my past has over me gives me an excuse to be who I want and behave how I want. If I release its hold, I’ll have to admit how far I’ve strayed from who I really am or who I want to be.

W
ith an enormous ache in my chest, I follow Eduardo up the stairs to our bed. My opportunity to reach Tug will have to wait. I didn’t lock the bathroom door and if not for Eduardo’s heavy footsteps, he would have busted me. I barely hid the phone before he barged in through the door. Tomorrow, I’ll have to let Marco know where it’s hidden.

As Eduardo slowly undresses me, I close my eyes so that I can imagine I’m with Tug, but it’s Eduardo I see and it’s Eduardo I feel. It makes me sick to feel anything for this man, but I’m helpless to fight my emotions.

His soft kisses and whisperings send goose bumps up my arms. I lie down on the bed and willingly offer myself to him. Tears fall from my eyes as his body hovers above mine. I have no idea who I am or what’s right and wrong, or what I’m going to do.

I’m lost but I’m not sure I want to be found.

I feel peace.