Page 38 of Ruining Hattie

HATTIE

A large hand lands on my waist, and I smile. Bast decided to join me after all. I’m so glad. I’m having the best time out here. He was really missing out.

I raise my hands and lean back. The women dancing around me encourage me on. No doubt. Bast is so hot, and if the roles were reversed, I’d be egging them on too.

I close my eyes and wrap my arms around Bast’s neck behind me, moving to the music and gyrating my hips. His other hand falls to my waist so both his hands are rubbing up and down my sides.

When I open my eyes, I glance over at our table, wondering if Bast left my bag there and whether it will be okay, but instead of finding it empty, Bast is there, staring at me. He’s risen from the chair with his hands fisted at his sides, and I freeze in place from the look of rage on his face.

“C’mon, baby, don’t stop now.”

It takes my brain a second to catch up to the fact that the voice that just sounded in my ear is not Bast’s.

I unwrap my hands from around his neck and whirl around, stepping back. “Oh my god!” My hand flies up to my mouth. “I thought you were someone else. I’m sorry.”

The sandy-haired man grins and wraps a hand around my waist and tugs me to him again. “I can be whoever you want me to be, baby.”

I push against his chest, but he doesn’t release me, only pulling me in tighter. The smell of the alcohol on his breath is clear, as are his glazed eyes.

“You have one second to get your hands off her.”

My head whips to the side, where Bast stands looking as though he’s about a millisecond away from murdering this man. I push again at the man’s chest, but he doesn’t let go.

“Back off, asshole. Get your own girl. This one’s coming home with me.” He smiles at me. “Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

I almost gag at the waft of alcohol coming off his breath. “Let me go.”

“Don’t make me ask you again. If you don’t get your hands off her, I’ll do it for you.” Bast steps closer.

The guy holding me pushes me away without a second glance. He’s too busy staring down Bast, the new target of his interest. “I’d like to see you try, old man.”

Bast chuckles, but his nostrils flare and his jaw clenches. It’s clear to me that it’s taking everything in him to hold back.

“Bast, let’s just go.”

He raises a hand but doesn’t look away from the drunk man. “He had his dirty paws all over what’s mine and needs to be taught a lesson.”

The guy shakes his head at Bast as if he finds this comical.

“Tell you what, this old man will let you get the first hit in. Then I’ll finish it.” Bast waves his hands toward his chest in a “come and get it” gesture.

Drunk guy laughs, then, without warning, he cranks his hand back and punches Bast in the face.

“Oh my god!” My hands fly up and cover my face as I stare in horror as Bast’s face whips to the side. When he turns around, blood is spurting from his nose and dripping down his face.

I want to rush over, but some of the girls I was dancing with hold me by my arms. I need to make sure he’s okay.

But Bast gives the guy a feral grin, blood staining the edges of his teeth. He has two good punches in before the guy even reacts, then they’re toppling to the floor. Bast has the advantage on top and rains punches down on the guy, who tries to buck him off to no avail.

Everyone around us is screaming and shouting, forming a circle around the duo until two massive security guards push through the crowd and separate them.

Bast pays them no mind. “Next time, keep your hands off my woman. And if she tells you to let her go, you do!” His face is red and angry and covered in blood that’s now smeared everywhere, but all I can focus on are the words that have come out of his mouth.

My woman.

The bouncers push the drunk guy toward the back door and Bast toward the front. I follow, stopping quickly to grab my bag from the table. The bouncer pushes Bast out the front door, and he immediately whirls around to make sure I’m there.

“Are you okay?” I raise my hand to his face but don’t actually touch him in case it will hurt.

“I’m fine.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and taps on the screen. “Uber will be here in two minutes. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m not the one who just got in a fight.”

His brows drop low. “He had his hands all over you.”

Is he mad at me? “I thought it was you behind me. As soon as I knew, I tried to get him to let go.”

He runs his hand down my back. “I know.”

The Uber pulls up along the curb, and Bast opens the door for me. When he slides in the back seat beside me, the driver looks as though he’s about to protest, but Bast slides him a hundred-dollar bill. The driver takes it without a word and turns back around.

Bast’s quiet the entire drive back to the condo, so I follow his lead and say nothing. When he doesn’t say anything on the elevator ride up, I worry that maybe he’s angry with me.

As soon as the condo door closes behind us, he heads for his room. I stand for a moment, debating what I should do.

“Forget this.” I’m not going to let him sulk or whatever he’s doing and shut me out.

I slide off my shoes, then stomp down the hall until I reach his bedroom. He’s just exiting the en suite, having washed the blood off his face.

“If you’re mad at me, just come out and say it.”

He looks at me, eyes narrowed. “I’m not mad at you.” He reaches behind his head and pulls his shirt forward and off his body.

“Then why aren’t you speaking to me?”

His jaw clenches, and a rush of air leaves his lungs. “Because I’m trying to calm myself down. I’m worked up, and I don’t want to take it out on you. I need to purge this adrenaline from my system somehow.” He walks into his closet. “I’m going to change and go work out.”

Relief swamps me that he doesn’t think I was doing anything intentionally to upset him.

My mind flashes back to how angry he was and how affected he was by another man paying me attention, and I get an idea of what Renee and Paige were talking about when they said they feel powerful on stage.

I brought out that reaction in him, which is a turn-on, and suddenly I get an idea.

I follow Bast into the massive walk-in closet to find him pulling his workout clothes out of a drawer in the center island. “I can think of other ways for you to work it out of your system.” I bite my bottom lip.

Bast glances at me, then does a double-take. “If I fucked you right now, I’d probably split you in two, Hattie.”

I saunter over to him, exaggerating the sway of my hips the same way I’ve seen the dancers at the club do. “What if you didn’t fuck me?”

The curse word feels foreign on my tongue, but Bast’s eyes light with pleasure at hearing me use it.

He swallows audibly. “What did you have in mind?”

Not answering him, I drop to my knees when I’m only a few feet away.

A hum of approval leaks out from low in his throat. “Have you ever done this before?”

I slowly shake my head, my eyes locked with his. Bast closes his eyes as though he’s savoring my response.

“Can I?”

Wordlessly, he undoes his pants, shedding them and his boxer briefs until he stands naked in front of me, stroking himself.

My nipples pebble in my bra, and my breasts grow heavy.

Bast steps up to me and runs the tip of his length over the seam of my lips. “Do you know what it did to me to see another man’s hands on you?”

I take his length in my palm, staring up at him through my eyelashes as I stroke.

“I could have killed him for touching what’s mine without permission, Hattie.”

Opening my mouth, I draw him in—just enough to encase the mushroom tip—and I suck lightly.

Bast shudders, and his fingers thread through the hair on the side of my head.

I pull back, then suck him in again, a little deeper this time, doing it again and again until he’s as far back in my throat as I can take.

“Look at you taking me like this. You look so pretty with my thick cock between your plump lips, Hattie. Like a fucking angel.”

The space between my thighs tingles from his words of praise. When I pull away, I circle my tongue around the tip before driving back down as far as I can. I gag a bit, but Bast must like it because he groans, and the fingers in my hair tighten.

“Hard to believe you’ve never taken a cock like this before, babe. You’re so fucking good at this.”

His words light me up inside, and I double my efforts.

Bast chuckles low in his throat. “I think someone has a bit of a praise kink.”

Maybe I do. I love it when he tells me I’m pleasing him.

“Suck on my balls while you stroke me.” He uses the hand in my hair to pull me away from his length, directing me lower.

I do as he says, gently pulling one into my mouth and sucking while I guide my hand up and down his shaft.

“Oh fuck.” Bastion flexes the hand in my hair. “Jesus Christ, you are so fucking good.”

His words light me up. I move to his other testicle, tonguing it for a moment before I draw it into my mouth.

“I need to fuck your face, Hattie.” He pulls me back by the hair and stares at me with such burning desire in his eyes that it takes my breath away. “Can I?”

I nod, knowing I’d do almost anything to please him. He sets his hands on either side of my face and slides himself into my mouth. Bast starts slow at first, but as his breathing picks up, so does his pace. Soon he’s thrusting in and out of my mouth, hitting the back of my throat.

When I gag, he says, “Try to relax your throat.”

I do as he says, breathing through my nose. He pistons in and out of me as I watch from below, his head thrown back in ecstasy. Then he tilts his head down and meets my gaze, and he swells in my mouth, becoming even harder to take all of him, until he cries out and pulls away.

He holds his shaft a few inches or so from my face, and I close my eyes as his release rains down on me. Bast strokes the side of my face in a loving gesture. The way I want to lean into his touch and bask in his admiration tells me it’s over, I’ve fallen for this man.

It wasn’t my plan, it isn’t anything he and I have discussed.

I’m afraid to bring it up for fear that he’ll think I’m a na?ve little girl.

He’s thirteen years older than me and is probably used to having sexual relationships that don’t involve getting serious or any real feelings.

I’m not sure how he’d react to the feelings I’ve developed for him.

Just because he was jealous when another man touched me tonight doesn’t mean he sees us going the distance. I think I’ll keep this little revelation to myself, for now at least.

Bast holds his hand out to help me up off the floor. “Let’s go take a shower.”

After leading me to the en suite, Bast starts the shower and draws me in under the water. When we’ve both rinsed off, he pulls me in for a kiss, and I taste the faint trace of blood on his tongue from his fight.

“I think you’re going to have a bruise and some swelling,” I say, looking at his face.

He shrugs. “It was worth it to put that asshole in his place. And believe me, I’ve had worse.” Bast laughs as though he’s reliving some memory, and I’m afraid to ask.

Instead, we finish cleaning up. Afterward, I head back to my room to get into some pajamas.

Once I’ve dressed and brushed my hair, I pull out my phone to plug it in on my nightstand and realize I’ve missed a text from my parents in our group chat. My heart drops out when I see they want to come visit.

My stomach clenches—not because I don’t want to see my parents, but because if they come to visit, they’re going to see where I live and where I work. It’s a reality I have to face at some point, but I’m not ready yet. Especially when I don’t even know what Bast and I are.

So I text them back and tell them that I’ll let them know when a good weekend is, but that I’m planning on returning home for a visit soon and we’ll figure it out. It’s the better of the two options. If I return to Wisconsin for a visit, I can push them off longer.

I plug my phone into the charger and return to Bast’s room. He’s already in bed, leaning against the headboard and watching sports updates on the television.

“Have you heard when the apartment will finish being repaired?” I climb into my side of the bed. It’s a given now that I’ll be sleeping here.

He glances away from the screen at me. “Contractor said that there was more water damage than he thought once he started pulling everything apart. It’s going to be at least another month.”

“It sure is taking him a long time.” I snuggle into Bast’s side.

“You eager to get away from me?” He holds my gaze, and there’s something in his I can’t figure out.

I frown. “Of course not.”

“Good.” His arm comes around me and squeezes me into his side.

I try not to read into his words tonight—mine, my woman, good—but my hopeful heart finds it impossible.