Dirty Hit

Chapter 8: Cassidy

I glare at her over my shoulder and she laughs, waving me off as she heads back to the other end of the bar. "Go get some dick, girl!"

But as I walk out the front door and spot Hayden leaning against his car, waiting for me with a smirk on his face, I wonder if this is such a good idea.

He's trouble.

And I'm not sure I can handle it.

As he opens the passenger door of his expensive SUV for me and I slide inside, I realize that I'm already in way too deep with him.

And I don't know how to stop it.

As he climbs into the driver's seat and starts driving toward downtown Seattle, I can feel the tension between us thickening until it's almost impossible to breathe. And when he reaches over and puts his hand on my thigh, I don't stop him.

I don't want to.

My skin tingles where his hand grips my thigh, and the heat of his palm soaks into my skin even through my jeans.

"Where are we going?" I ask, trying to keep my voice from shaking as his fingers inch higher and higher up my leg.

He smirks at me. "You'll see."

I bite back a moan as his fingers brush against my inner thigh, teasing me through my jeans with the promise of what's to come.

And as he pulls into a parking garage downtown and parks the car, I know I'm in trouble.

Because Hayden Vaughn is going to make me do things I swore I'd never do again. At least not with a hockey player.

And I don't think I can stop myself from giving in.

As he leads me out of the parking garage and down the street, his hand on the small of my back, I know that tonight is going to change everything.

And even though I should be running away screaming, all I want to do is let him have me any way he wants me.

What the shit is that, anyway? I've never been the submissive type before. On one hand, I want to fight Hayden. Challenge him and see how far I can push him before he snaps. And on the other hand, I want to fall to my knees, bow my head, and let him use me until we're both wrecked.

He stops in front of a fancy restaurant and holds the door open for me, his gaze burning into me as I walk past him and into the dimly lit interior. He gives his name to the hostess and she leads us to a table in the back, away from the other patrons. I'm in a crop top and jeans and definitely not dressed for this place. But Hayden doesn't seem to mind. He sits down across from me and orders a bottle of wine like he's done this before.

"So, Cassidy," he says as the waiter pours us each a glass of red. "Tell me about yourself."

I raise an eyebrow. "You want to get to know me?" I figured he couldn't give less of a shit and only wanted between my thighs.

He nods. "Why else would I be here?"

I shrug, taking a sip from my glass and trying to ignore the way his gaze makes me squirm. "There's got to be more to you than the girl who slides into hockey players' DMs just to tell them what an asshole they are."

He laughs, leaning back in his seat and giving me a look that makes my stomach flip. "You still think I'm an asshole?"

I nod. "Definitely."

"And yet you're here with me," he says, smirking at me like he's won something. "What does that say about you?"

I grab a breadstick and rip off a piece, tossing it in my mouth. "It says I'm desperate for a free meal."

He laughs again and shakes his head. "I don't believe that for a second." He leans closer to me, his gaze burning into mine. "Tell me the truth, Cassidy. You want me as much as I want you."

I swallow hard, my heart racing as he reaches across the table and takes my hand in his, stroking his thumb over my knuckles. "You don't know anything about me."

"Maybe not," he says, shrugging. "But I want to."

I pull my hand back and take a sip of wine, trying to ignore the way his touch makes me feel like I'm on fire. "You can't have me, Hayden."

He smirks at me again. "We'll see."

The waiter comes back with our food and we eat in silence for a while before he finally speaks again. "So, what's your deal?"

I raise an eyebrow. "What deal?"

"Why do you hate hockey players so much?" he asks, taking another bite of his steak. "Seems like it's more than just the usual egotistical shit."

I swallow hard, hating that he can read me so easily when I don't even know him. "It's personal."

"And you don't want to tell me about it?" he asks, looking a little bit pissed off that I'm not spilling my secrets to him on this date... or whatever it is.

I shake my head. "Nope."

"How about I take a guess? Morozov did something to fuck you over?"

I snort out a laugh that's super embarrassing and try to turn it into a cough to cover it up. "Oh, he fucked someone over the sink in the bathroom at my bar." I bite my lip while I consider. "Or maybe over the toilet. I don't actually know the specifics."

He winces. "Ouch."

"Yeah," I say, taking another bite of my pasta. "So, that was a deal-breaker for me."

He nods, rubbing his thumb along his lower lip and I can't tear my eyes away. "Can't really blame you."

"I swore off all hockey players after that. In fact, let's make it athletes in general."

His eyes darken as he leans closer to me again, his voice low. "You're not going to swear off me, Cassidy."

"Why not?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him. "Because you're"—I make air quotes—"different?"

He shrugs, sipping his wine and staring at me over the rim with a look so intense, I shiver. "Maybe I am."

I shake my head, snagging another breadstick. "I doubt that."

He laughs, picking up his fork and leaning back in his seat again but his foot tangles with mine under the table. "You're stubborn as fuck, you know that?"

"So are you," I say, taking another bite of my food. "But you don't see me complaining."

He smirks at me like he's got some kind of plan forming in his head and I don't ask because I don't think I want to know.

A/N: Isn't it fun when Cassidy throws Hayden's shit right back at him? What do you think they're going to do after this little dinner date is done?

If you want to read more of this story before it publishes here, you can get early access over on my Patreon:patreon.com/heatherashleywrites (clickable link's in my bio)