Page 31 of Ruining Hattie

BASTION

T he day after I spread Hattie out on my counter and devoured her as though she was my last meal, I tell her that I’ll be really late returning home.

It’s not inconceivable that I’ll spend all night at the club on a Friday, since it’s one of the busiest nights, but that’s not why I’m sticking around.

It’s because I need some separation from Hattie in order to get my head on straight. I need to remember why she’s here in the first place and reset my plan in my head.

After I made her come on my tongue, all I felt was victory over the fact that my plan was moving forward.

But when she joined me in the shower, knelt before me with those big doe eyes and that look of awe on her face as she jerked me off, as though it made her so genuinely happy to bring me pleasure…

something shifted inside me that didn’t sit well.

It doesn’t matter how sweet, how innocent, how hot she is or how much fun I’m having showing her a new side to herself—she’s the girl my mother chose to give all the nurturing and care and love and attention that I was supposed to have. And I cannot forget that.

So I’m at the club, pretending to work when really I’ve been staring at my computer screen, or if I’m out talking to some patrons, I’m barely hearing a word because I’m reliving everything that happened last night.

I blow out a breath and straighten in my chair, determined to get some work done. Before I can get started, there’s a knock at the door. “Come in.”

Steph waltzes through the door wearing one of her more daring dresses. The front dips low, and the hem might only extend a couple of inches past her ass. When she closes the door behind her, I know that she’s not just here to talk business.

“Hey, Steph.” I motion to the chair across from my desk, and she sits.

“Surprised to see you here.” She takes her time crossing her legs, but a small pout crosses her lips when she sees I’m not watching.

“I do own the place.”

She smirks. “From what I hear, you haven’t been staying late for the past few weeks.”

I arch an eyebrow and relax back into my chair. “Checking up on me?”

Steph shrugs. “You could say that. Just want to make sure everything’s okay. You’ve seemed… different lately.”

“Nothing for you to concern yourself with. I’m assuming you have business to discuss?”

Steph accepts my change of subject and fills me in on what I need to know as far as the business goes.

But as soon as we’ve discussed the final matter, she gets back to why she’s really here.

She peels herself out of her seat and saunters around my desk until she’s to my left, leaning her ass against the edge of my desk. I shift my chair to face her.

“You seem like you need to take the edge off.” She leans in, resting a hand on my shoulder. The perfume that I used to like now smells cloying to me.

“Is that so?” She’s probably right. I’ve felt on edge since I stepped out of the shower with Hattie last night and the burned lasagna turned into an omen.

“Why don’t you let me take care of you? We can have a little fun.” Her hand trails down my arm and over to my stomach.

This is usually when I take control and tell her what I want, but for some reason, this time her hands are unwanted. Wrong. The mental picture of her hand wrapped around my cock the same way Hattie’s was last night turns me off.

She keeps descending, gripping me between the legs, and frowns when she finds me flaccid.

I bat away her hand. “I’m not in the mood.”

Steph frowns and pulls away. “You haven’t been in the mood in a while.”

“Maybe this little tryst has run its course.”

She straightens off the desk, and I ignore the terrifying expression she tries to school. “What does that mean?”

“It means I don’t want to do this anymore. Shouldn’t have done it in the first place.”

She scoffs and glares. “You’re serious?”

“Yes. You used to know the score, but lately it seems like you think you have some claim over me. A year ago, if I had put you off, you’d have thought nothing of it. Now you seem to take it personally.”

She crosses her arms and cocks out her hip. “Who is she?”

I motion to her. “This is exactly the kind of shit I’m talking about. It’s none of your business. And if there were someone, what would be the difference? I was clear about what this was the first time we hooked up, and you happily hopped on board.”

“So you’re just tossing me aside?”

“I’m telling you that it seems like things are getting complicated, and I don’t have time for complications in my life. Moving forward, our relationship will be strictly professional.”

Her eyes narrow. “You’re fucking the new girl, aren’t you?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not, but if I were, it’s none of your business. You seem to forget that you work for me, Steph, not the other way around. If you don’t like it, leave.”

Steph leaving would be a loss that would be hard to replace, but if she’s going to cause me problems, it’s not worth keeping her.

Her arms drop to her sides, and she presses her lips together. Though she looks as if she wants to say something, she draws in a deep breath and stops herself. “Fine. Your loss.”

Without another word, she stalks from my office and slams the door.

Things will be touchy with her for a while I’m sure, but she’ll get over it. I never promised her anything, and I was clear from the start—and we both agreed—that us messing around was fun and nothing more.

My attempt to get back to work fails when three minutes later, I’m thinking about Hattie again.

Things are progressing nicely. We’ve messed around, and she was actually desperate for me and what I’d give her.

She’s gotten drunk, and I didn’t even have to facilitate that one myself.

Imagine what I can do with a few more weeks under my belt.

I smirk and force myself to work for the remainder of the night.

On Sunday, I once again find myself following Hattie around Seattle.

Sure, recon isn’t anything new for me, but I’ve never been a guy who stalks women. From what I’ve read between the lines from my sister, her brother-in-law Nero might have stalked his now-wife at one time, and I remember thinking, “Why the fuck would anyone bother?”

I get it now, Nero.

When I heard Hattie leave the condo, I told myself not to bother, but the next thing I knew, there I was, putting on my shoes and racing to catch the elevator so that I could find her on the street before she was too far from view.

I’m not some fucking creep—at least I never used to be—but something about this woman gets under my skin. I don’t know what it is, but a part of me wonders if I get my fill of her, will this sensation in my chest ease?

As she did last week, Hattie attends service at church, then walks to the soup kitchen to volunteer. I enjoy watching her move throughout the world and interact with others without her knowing that I’m standing sentinel.

I’ve given a lot of thought to how I want this to play out, when the best time to bed her will be, and I’ve decided that I want her begging for it.

The two of us can screw around until then, but when I finally take her, and when she looks back on that moment for years to come, I want her to know that it was because she had to have it. That her un doing was her own doing.

And part of that won’t just be the physical satisfaction I can give her.

Part of it will be the emotional connection she thinks we share.

I need Hattie to fall in love with me so that when I finally expose the truth to her and Carla, it will be all that much more devastating.

Maybe they’ll understand a shred of how I felt growing up with a mother who didn’t give two shits about me.

With a smirk, I walk away from the soup kitchen. I’ll put the next phase of my plan into motion tonight. I’m sure innocent Hattie will walk right into it.

When Hattie returns late afternoon, I make sure I’m in the living room, waiting.

“Hey, you’re home.” She sets her purse on the table near the front door.

I haven’t seen much of her this weekend, by my own design. Thankfully, after the distance, I have my head on straight, and I’m ready to move forward.

“I am. What did you do today?”

She joins me in the living area, taking a seat a few feet away from me on the large sectional. “I went to church and then did some volunteering at the soup kitchen.”

I nod and turn off the TV. “I was going to call you if you didn’t show up soon.”

“How come?” There’s anticipation in her gaze.

“I made plans for us tonight. I hope you’re free.”

“You did? What are we doing?”

“I’m taking you to dinner.” When her mouth opens to argue, I raise my hand. “No one we work with will be there.”

She frowns. “How do you know?”

“Because they’re not going to pay a couple hundred dollars a plate, and that’s what this place charges.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh. What should I wear?”

“Something dressy, maybe a little sexy.”

A shy smile tilts her lips as she stands from the couch. “How much time do I have to get ready?”

I glance at my watch. “An hour.”

“I’ll make sure I’m ready.” She heads out of the living room but swings around at the last minute to face me. “Thank you for planning this, Bastion.”

I nod, thankful when she disappears from view.

An hour later, on the dot, I’m waiting in my suit at the door when she glides around the corner looking like a fucking goddess.

She’s wearing a one-shoulder electric-blue dress with a ruched waist that goes to her knees and has a slit up her left thigh.

She paired it with a set of silver sandals that have a heel higher than any I’ve seen her wear before.

Her hair is pulled up into a tight, high ponytail, showing off the curve of her neck, and it makes me want to tug her into me and bite down on it.

Hattie is gorgeous in the limited makeup she wears on a daily basis, but tonight she’s wearing eyeliner and lipstick, and it makes her look more her age.

“You look phenomenal.” I rest my hands on her waist.