Hammered (Getting Dirty Series Book 4) Read online

  “Doesn’t mean I have to like the attention you’re attracting.” I roll my eyes but whip my head around. Surely, he’s lying. There’s no way I’m garnering that much response.

  “I highly doubt that.” I see nothing out of the ordinary, honestly.

  “Babe, there are two guys staring at your ass right now, and another staring at your tits. I’m a man. I know when a man is looking at a woman with desire in his eyes.”

  “Whatever.” Though I tie my jacket around my waist and put my flannel shirt back on for the time being. I’m secure in my curves, but I really don’t want someone ogling me either.

  “Thankfully, she listens,” he mutters. We make it to the check-in desk. I listen as Chance answers the concierge’s questions. My ears perk up when she says we’ll be staying in one suite that has two bedrooms.

  “Um, Chance?” I try to get his attention. There’s no way I’ll be able to hold a grudge if he walks around half naked. I’m definitely not that strong. I clear my throat. He’s already taken the two keys from the lady who checked us in.

  “Yeah, babe?” This is something new, that and this man. It’s as if Chance Adams has hit his head and it’s knocked sense into him.

  “Why are we sharing a suite? I’m pretty sure I told you that wasn’t an option.” My body turns towards his, anger bubbling up inside of me. I’m so completely fucked. I just told my sisters and Berkley what was happening. They laughed saying it’s fate or kismet. Who really knows?

  “Can this wait until we get to our room? I’d rather not have every Tom, Dick, and Harry eavesdropping on our conversation.” Chance is looking over my head, gruffness plastered on his face. He seriously thinks someone is going to come steal me away from him. Doesn’t he realize he already owns my heart, my whole heart at that? Not that I’m going to tell him, oh no. I want to see just how much he sweats this out. My devious plan is already coming together. Chance won’t know what hit him when the time is right.

  “Sure.” I turn towards the elevator, wheeling my suitcase and putting a swing into my walk.

  “Christ on a cracker,” I hear him grumble, yet he’s following me. I’m not sure what he’s cursing about. My body or me agreeing so quickly.

  “Are you okay? You seem a little hot under the collar,” I ask once we’re standing in the elevator, alone without onlookers lingering in our business.

  “Woman, you’ve been busting my balls for a year now. I fucked up one time, one fucking time, and now you want to ask if I’m okay?”

  “No way, you are not blaming me for that. You know what? I think this trip will do us some good. You stay on your side of the suite, and I’ll stay on mine. I thought maybe you’d grow a pair and apologize. But nope. Not Chance Adams. God forbid he apologize for fingerfucking me, leaving me, then calling it a mistake. You can fuck right off.” The elevator dings. I grab the card from his hand and march to our room. My only thought is to get away from Chance. I seriously do not get paid enough to deal with his mood swings, and as much as I put on that coldhearted face day in and day out, I’m done. My emotional well has run dry.

  “Fuck.” That word seems to be on repeat coming from Chance. I find the door to our suite, slide the card in the reader, and push the door open. This place is ridiculously big. I was not expecting that to say the least. Honestly, a small room with a view and maybe a balcony with an ocean view is all I would have paid for. Apparently, Chance sprung the money for this place though. “I’ll take the room on the right.” I leave him to navigate towards the bedroom. After an early morning making sure everything was set for us to be closed this week, and then the flight, I’m tired. Mentally and emotionally. I look around what will be my home for the next week. It’s soft in the tones from the walls to the bed linens, whimsical feeling, and definitely has a huge bed that dominates the room.

  “At least I don’t have to sleep on a tiny bed or share it with anyone.” I put my suitcase on the stool that sits at the foot of the bed and start unpacking. The faster I get this done, the faster I’ll be in my bikini down by the water and hopefully have a drink in my hand. And right now, that’s the only thought I’m allowing to plague my mind. If I allow them to go any further, I’ll only be going down the rabbit hole I’ve been trying to forget this entire time.

  I thought for sure he would have at least talked about things beforehand, but judging by his manners in the elevator, nothing has changed, and I need to get that through my thick skull. I’ll be damned if I allow Chance Adams to ruin my much-needed vacation.

  Rowen and I went shopping a week before Christmas. Granted, most of it was online because there is literally nowhere in our hometown that is selling any kind of summer clothes or bathing suits. We were lucky when we saw the heatwave that was coming through the south east coast of South Carolina, otherwise, it would have been arctic here too. Rowen and I sprung for super-fast shipping and an array of clothing. Half of which didn’t even fit. Damn sizing charts along with my abundance of tits and ass. The stuff that did fit was freaking amazing. Even Aspen was shocked. Hell, she sent clothes too, which is the norm for her. Anytime she gets extras or something isn’t selling, we girls end up with her overflow, and I am not going to complain one bit.

  I hurriedly discard my cold weather clothes and grab my bathing suit top. It’s cute and black with bright splashes of pink throughout, complementing my skin color while also holding the girls up without breaking my neck. The bottoms are a bit on the cheeky side but still work for me.

  “Peyton,” I hear Chance through the door while he knocks.

  “Ugh, I swear if he ruins the rest of my day, I’m going to choke him in his sleep.” I open the door without bothering to put on a coverup. If he wants to be a pest, then he’ll get what he gets.

  “Yes, Chance?” I throw my attitude at him.

  “Fucking hell, woman.” Those words of his seem to always come out when I’m in his presence. I let him scan my body, allowing him to see exactly what he threw away. Even when he bites his bottom lip, I don’t say one single word. I’m going to enjoy this, probably too much.

  Three

  Chance

  I’m trying not to stare at Peyton’s body, but her in that barely-there bikini, it’s giving me a run for my money. I fist my hands, unclenching them, and then do it again a few times over. If my hands touch any part of her body right now, we’ll be fucked, literally, and I know if that happens, the two of us will never fucking happen. She’s hell bent on putting me in my place, and I’m hell bent on letting her see that I’ll get on my knees to make her see that yes, I fucked up. I should have admitted my feelings all those months ago instead of hiding from them. It took me this goddamn long to pull my head out of my ass, but after this week, she’ll know damn well what my intentions are with her.

  “What? Never seen a woman in a bathing suit before?”

  “Peyton, there’s nothing that could ever prepare me for seeing you like this. Not a fucking thing.” The words I’m speaking are the absolute truth. Her hair is down, so long that it curls on those fantastic tits of hers that are more than a handful. Her fair skin that I know will burn to a crisp if she doesn’t put sunscreen on looks like silk. Fuck, we’re lucky it’s in the low eighties today, or we’d be bundled up as much as we were in Virginia. I love that Peyton has curves. I can toss her around without worrying I’ll break her when we’re in bed. My eyes comb her body—tits, hips, and legs. Peyton doesn’t even know how utterly fucking beautiful she is to me.

  “Well, you could have had it. A simple apology, some groveling, maybe your mouth for more than just a kiss, and it would have been yours. Now, though, who knows what can happen.” I watch as she grabs her bag and brushes against me as she makes her way to the door. There’s no way I’m going to let her leave though. We have too much shit to discuss, and I’ll be damned if our vacation starts off with her walking away from me.

  The minute I see an opportunity, I take it. My arms band around her middle, hugging her to my chest. Peyton’s ba
ck is plastered to my front when I whisper into her ear, “I know I fucked up, Peyton. There was too much shit rattling in my mind to keep me from going after the person who’s standing right here with me. I should have apologized. Hell, I should have never left. But I can’t change the should’ve, would’ve, could’ve. What I can do is make it up to you in every way that counts. I’m apologizing here and now. If you need me on my knees, then I’ll do it. But, baby, the second I am, I’m going to have my mouth on every sweet inch of your skin.” I pull her in deeper, letting her feel exactly what she does to me. My cock is rock hard, bursting to break loose and sink deep inside Peyton.

  When I said I had shit rattling in my head, I wasn’t lying. That phone call that happened after I rocked Peyton’s world was one I’d been waiting on. My brother was airlifted to Germany, and my mother was hysterical on the other end of the line when I did answer her call. It made me feel like the world’s biggest dick going after Peyton when I did. My brother laid up in God knew what form, and there I was, defiling my secretary and being a dick while doing it. Thank fuck Fox came out on the other side, it’s partially why he moved down here. He wanted an easier life than he did have. Now, he’s fine, obviously, but the mess I left while dealing with it. That’s a whole other story, and I’m not proud of how I handled it.

  “You have to know, Chance, I’m pretty apprehensive about what’s going on here. I’m not saying I can’t forgive you. I may just need some time.” She turns in my arms. I slightly loosen my hold. The way Peyton looks up at me, with tentativeness in her eyes, it socks me in the gut. I did this to her. Shit. I did this to us. I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “I understand. You going to the beach or the pool?”

  “The beach. I want to dip my toes in the sand before the sun starts to set. You want to come with me?” My hands dip to the curves of her hips, squeezing slightly before responding.

  “There’s nothing I’d love more. I’m going to ask you to put something over your suit, though, before we walk through the lobby. I can’t be held responsible if some dumb fuck looks at you the wrong way and he finds my fist in his face,” I growl out, remembering just twenty minutes ago.

  “I still think you’re crazy, but yeah, I can put something on to appease your alpha male attitude. Just remember, my name is not Jane and you are not Tarzan.” A smile covers her face. My woman is back, with that quick-witted mind and sharp tongue of hers. It’s enough to make me want to say, ‘Fuck the beach’ and take her to bed.

  Instead, I dip my head, our lips lightly touching. The feel of hers beneath mine, pillowy and soft, it calls to a hunger deep inside me. The need to taste Peyton, to have her surrounding me, is too much, and when she leans into me, the curves of her breasts pushing against my chest, that’s when I take our kiss deeper, giving her the one she craved and I neglected all those months ago. That won’t happen again. My hand moves up, grasping her hair, not wanting her to pull away. Peyton does the opposite—she arches her body, giving me exactly what we both want.

  My tongue laps at the seam of her lips. Peyton’s meet mine, and that’s when I do the very last thing I probably should. I move my hands down, grabbing the back of her thighs. She climbs up, and I wrap her up in my arms, taking us to the nearest wall available. The entire walk, not that it’s too much of one, Peyton’s hips are moving, her arms wrapped around my shoulders, the soft mewls she’s making while we kiss. It’s going to be hard to step away from her this time. I’m going to hate doing it even more. She needs to know that I’m going to work for her forgiveness, not fuck it out of her.

  Our mouths are ripped away from each other when she moans, “More, Chance, please.”

  “Fuck, this is not how I want things to go, not yet. You get yours though, baby. Then we’ll work on us, and the next time we come, it’ll be fucking together.” Her back meets the wall as she grinds down on my cock when I thrust my hips upwards. Her tits are swaying with every motion, her skin glistening with sweat from her impending orgasm. I look down at where our bodies meet, and not for the first time do I wish we were both naked and it was my cock deep inside her.

  “I’m coming,” she purrs, her hands gripping my shoulders so tight, I can feel her nails digging into my skin. My mouth meets hers again, kissing her while swallowing down her moans, wanting to savor every moment of this. When Peyton’s eyes open, I give her one last small kiss and help her down, yet still holding on to her until she has found her footing.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  “Wow, yeah. I’m great.” A smile takes over her face.

  “Hell, yes, you are. I’m going to change my clothes. Give me ten minutes, and we’ll head down to the beach?”

  “Of course, and Chance?” Peyton responds.

  “Yeah, baby?” My hands are still boxing her in against the wall, not really wanting to leave her for a single second.

  “Thank you.” She leans up, kissing the underside of my jaw, then backs away scurrying into her bedroom. I watch her curves the entire time, knowing I’m one lucky son of a bitch that Peyton is willing to give me another chance.

  Four

  Peyton

  “Answer the phone.” I dialed Rowen, Aspen, and Berkley. Usually, we FaceTime, but for something like this, I can’t have Chance hearing them blabbering on the other end of the line.

  “Why are you calling? This better be an emergency! Your ass should be on the beach,” Aspen states.

  “Um, about that. There seems to be a six-foot-two-inch growly alpha who sidetracked me with an orgasm while attempting to do just that,” I talk quickly into the phone.

  “Oh, Chance is like that, is he,” Rowen smarts off as she comes on the line.

  “Get it, girl,” is Berkley’s response, ever the smartass.

  “You guys, I can’t just forgive and forget, can I?”

  “Take a chance on Chance, get it?” Aspen, she’s a damn goof. We all laugh. Berkley snorts, which causes Rowen to giggle like a teenager, and me to chuckle with the rest of them.

  Aspen isn’t wrong. It does cause me to take a step back and pause though. If I hold on to the grudge too long, who knows what could happen to us. Chance could eventually get sick of me and walk away. That’s something I’m not willing to risk. “Fine, okay. I love you guys. Give everyone hugs and kisses or whatnot. I’ll probably only text from here on out. I have a date with a sexy hunk of a man and the beach.” I hurry up and throw the phone on my bed, a bed I hopefully won’t be in alone tonight even if we don’t have sex.

  It takes me a few minutes to come up with some kind of coverup that isn’t see-through, another one of Aspen’s doings since she sent me the clothing part of this vacation. I pull out a flouncy skirt and a tank, throw them on, and head towards the living area.

  Hopefully, Chance is ready because I’m dying to get to the beach. I fling the door open and stop in my tracks. “Holy shit.” The words leave my mouth before I can filter them. Chance is standing in a pair of board shorts hanging low on his hips, showing off his muscular build, a shirt in his hand, but it’s the way he licks his lips while standing there that has me ready to jump into the ocean to cool off.

  “Glad you approve. Ready?” he says without a care.

  “Wait a second.” I do the time out sign. I’m going to need just a minute to get my words flowing. My eyes see the humor Chance is playing up.

  “Baby, you wanna stand here and look all day or go to the beach?” he says. I’ve barely got my shit together. The wise ass, feisty woman I am has retreated with his looks alone. I am toast. There’s no way I can hold a grudge over something that happened so many months ago. I mean, sure, things may pop up here and there. I’m not one to be able to hide my insecurities that well. And, let’s face it, those will appear when a woman is least expecting that.

  “Well, if you’re going shirtless, then so am I.” I cross my arms, ready to pull my shirt off when Chance says, “Nope, not fucking happening. I’m putting mine on.”

  I watch as he does just that, mus
cles ripping, washboard abs flexing along the way, and my mouth waters as thoughts of running my tongue along every square inch of him play through my mind. I shake myself out of my Chance-induced coma when his head pops through his shirt. That was a close call. All I’d need is to have him catch me wipe the drool off my chin, or better yet, see me drooling. God, the girls would roll with laughter. Bridger probably would too. Not that he’s perfect, there was no way in hell I was telling him what happened between Chance and me. Which was no easy task with me being in a sour mood, especially when we had a family dinner that same night. I didn’t though. I put on a bright smile and faked having a great time. Then went home, drank a bottle of wine, and ate the whole container of my secret stash of chocolate thin mint patties. It took me a week of eating right not to feel so damn bloated after that stellar binge eating and drinking night. I vowed to put it behind me, including Chance, which was when the grudge holding commenced. My family teased me growing up that I was like a dog with a bone and never gave up. I guess they weren’t wrong.

  Once Chance is situated, I pick up my bag that was dropped on the ground during our epic make-out session—okay, okay, it was more than that, but if I continue thinking about how Chance rocked my world, I’ll literally have to change my bathing suit. Our hands meet, his thumb stroking where ours are connected. He doesn’t even know it, but he’s calming my racing heart, and that’s something I need more than I thought.

  “We’re going to be alright, Peyton. I promise you that. We’ll go slow, and any hurdles that are thrown our way, we’ll navigate them, together. Okay?” We’ve somehow managed to make it to the elevator while he’s saying this as my own mind blanked out, only focusing on our hands.

  “Thank you.” Chance kisses my forehead. The elevator dings, and we go inside, a smile taking over my face. I’m dying to feel the sun beam on my face, to soak in the rays, to smell the salt in the air, and to hear the waves crash along the shore.