Scrooge

27. Haylee

27

HAYLEE

I end the call with Jillian just as I’m walking back into the kitchen. She had so many questions, but for now, she is taking the kids to my parents’ house, where they will lay low for the day. The media are circling and Tucker Toys will remain closed tomorrow. I feel bad. My family’s in some weird type of lockdown. All because of me and my choices. Bad choices in men, namely Jaryd. My legs are shaking, and I can barely stand upright.

I don’t wait for Alex, as he is still talking with Laurent, and I walk straight in, making a beeline for the fridge. I have no idea how to fix any of this, but I spotted Alex’s hand in the car. It was red, swollen, his knuckles cracked. I’m not surprised. He’s fit and hit Jaryd with some force. He was livid. Still is. I never knew he could be like this. All protective and dominant, but in a good way. I’ve never experienced anything like this.

“What are you doing?” he asks me as I open the freezer. It is empty. Why am I not surprised?

“Looking for frozen peas. Who doesn’t have frozen peas?” I say to him, throwing my hand toward the empty freezer in front of us. I feel anxious, a sick feeling swirling in my gut at the events of tonight at the restaurant.

“Stop,” he says calmly.

“No, you need something for your hand.” I fling open all the drawers and cupboards in his kitchen, looking for an ice pack or something. Clearly, I have lost my mind a little as remorse sets in fully at what I’ve caused.

“Haylee, just stop,” he says again, almost pleadingly.

“But your hand is swelling. You won’t be able to use it tomorrow.” All because of me . Stress starts to eat up my insides like a rapidly festering wound. It’s all my fault. He might get arrested, or what if Jaryd does sue him? Alex punched someone in the street, in front of onlookers. There goes his improving reputation. Why can’t my life just be simple? Normal.

As I open another cupboard, I feel his hands wrap around my waist from behind, and he hoists me into the air like I weigh nothing. Planting my ass on the kitchen counter, he stands in front of me, his hands resting on either side of my knees as he moves his body between my legs so I can’t move. He is still dressed, his pants now fully on, yet his shirt is still mostly unbuttoned.

“Just stop. I don’t care about my hand. I just care about you.” His eyes search mine, and my heart stutters, nerves easing slightly. “Are you okay?” Swallowing roughly, he looks over every inch of my face, his hands trailing gently down my arms, leaving goosebumps to scatter across my skin. He stops at my bruise, seeing it more purple in his bright kitchen lights, and his jaw clenches.

“I’m fine,” I say, sighing. This date was perfect. We were having so much fun together, and then it had to end in a media shitstorm. But now, with him standing right in front of me, looking after me, when I’m the one who should be looking after him, I’m not sure I can contain my developing feelings.

“How long were you dating him?” he asks, and I take in another breath.

“About six months. He was great at first. Swept me off my feet. I met him in the city, at a diner at lunchtime. He bought me a coffee,” I tell him, feeling sick again just thinking about it.

He keeps quiet, his lips zipped tight, waiting for me to continue.

“He started hitting me after we moved in together, about three months later.”

“How many times have you been in hospital?” he grits out.

“Just the once. Dad got involved then. But it was stressful. I moved in with my sister, then my father had his mini stroke, and then…” I let my words linger, looking up at him, and I can see the moment the penny drops.

“Then I put up your rent,” he finishes for me, pretty much putting together the puzzle pieces of my life for the last twelve months.

“Yeah. But then I met you,” I say quietly. My emotions are a little all over the place. But I feel safe here in our little space in the sky.

“I’m sorry you had to endure all of that,” he says, and I swallow past the lump in my throat.

“It’s just life.” I shrug, shaking my head. “Nothing is perfect.”

“I think you come pretty close.” He’s watching me carefully, his facial features soft, our bodies close.

“Will you be in a lot of trouble?” I ask, scared to know the truth.

“Is that what you are worried about?” he asks, tilting his head in question.

“That and how in the world you are going to work tomorrow if you can’t use that hand,” I tell him, and we both look down. His knuckles are almost red raw, swollen worse than I thought. I pick up his hand, looking at it closely, and run my finger over the swelling, before I lift it to my mouth and kiss his angry skin.

“Haylee,” he whispers, almost moaning at the brush of my lips, not unlike he did when I caught him naked in the shower.

“I just want to kiss it better,” I breathe out against his skin, as I kiss his knuckles again and then again. Peppering them all over his sore hand. Peering up at him under my lashes, I see his gaze burning with desire. I love the way he looks at me like this. My body heats under his attention.

“Sunflower… I need you in my bed,” he tells me, jaw ticking as his injured hand lifts to cup my cheek.

I bite my bottom lip, trying to stop the smile forming. He moves a little closer, his other hand running around my waist.

“God, what are you doing to me?” he says before his lips lower to mine. The rush is intense as he kisses me, both of us moaning into it. I almost sag with relief as his arm pulls my waist in tight, cementing me to his body as our tongues tease and lips brush.

When he moves my face with his hand to deepen the kiss, I wrap my arms around his neck, spreading my legs wider to pull us as flush as possible. I feel tingles in my toes, the sensation running up my legs and over my body, followed by warmth before my pussy clenches, my body arching into his.

“Alex, please,” I say breathily as he starts to kiss down my jaw with passion. His hands coast around to my back, meeting the zipper of my dress, and he lowers it slowly. My dress falls away and his hands drop to my waist as he cups my side, running his hand back up my torso, taking my dress up with his touch. His thumbs graze my breast, and I raise my hands as he swoops the material straight from my body, my hair flowing around my shoulders with the action. He steps back to look at me as I sit before him in nothing but my underwear.

“You are a fucking vision,” he says as he comes back to me, picking me up from the counter, carrying me like I weigh nothing as he walks us to his bedroom. Placing me on the bed, he kneels tall in front of me, his bare torso on display through his open shirt. I forget all about what happened tonight at the restaurant as my eyes trail down, landing on his belt buckle. My hands move quickly as I open his belt and lower his zipper for the second time tonight.

“We can go slower,” he says, his hand running through my hair, the silky strands falling straight through his grasp. I moan at the tickly feeling.

“I don’t want slow,” I tell him as I lower his pants, and he stands, pushing them down and kicking them off to the side. It shouldn’t be a surprise, since we just had sex in his hallway, but I was blinded by passion and didn’t see him up close. Now, I gulp as I take him in. He opens the remaining buttons on his shirt.

“Jesus,” I say as I fling open his shirt, which reveals a perfectly sculpted torso that I didn’t think was humanly possible to achieve until right now. I stare at him, almost in disbelief, as I run my hands up and down his muscles, and he leans forward, kissing my neck. Gripping my ass again, he grinds his pelvis into mine. I gasp as I feel him, hard and large, and my mouth finds his on an eager moan.

“God, I want you,” he groans against my lips.

“I want you too,” I say as I lower my hand and feel him. I wrap my hands around him and then run my hand up and down his length.

“Shit,” he hisses as he pulls back from my mouth.

“What do you want, Sunflower? Tell me,” he asks, standing before me entirely naked. Slight arrogance edges his tone as his eyes canvass me from top to toe. I have never felt so turned on in my life. I’m confident, both inside and out of the bedroom, and tonight is no exception.

“Let me show you…” I slip off the bed and stand in front of him. He is rock-hard, and I feel him against my body as I start to lower slowly.

“Jesus,” he murmurs as his hand falls to my head. I kiss my way down his amazing body, my hands feeling every ridge. His dick pulsates as I fall to my knees in front of him, and I get comfortable as I grab him in my hand.

“You’re so hard,” I say as I run my thumb across his tip, feeling precum already. He is hot and throbbing, and my pussy clenches at how he felt inside me.

“All for you.”

Looking down at me, he waits, letting me lead, and so I do.