Free The Hustle (Irreparable #4) by Kj Bell

me.”
    Her bold order is my complete undoing. The thread finally snaps and I slam her down onto my cock, lifting my hips to get as deep as possible. To reach the edge where I feel nothing before I fall. That point right before climax where I feel numb and my head clears, free from pain and regret. The brink of orgasm is the only time I feel peace. Even if only for mere seconds, I need to go there.
    She throws her arms around my neck, tipping her head back as she cries out in wild satisfaction, but I feel the pang of conscience crushing my chest. I can’t. We can’t, but as she starts to move, I lack the strength to stop what’s happening or how much I want her. Being in her bare overwhelms me with a carnality that makes me want to own her. I am prepared to stake a fucking claim right now. Then the same raw passion shoots anger through me and has me shoving her off of me. She shrieks falling back on her ass.
    “What the fuck are you doing?” Her arms fold over her body as she scoots back on the floor. “Fuck! You could get pregnant . . . I don’t want a kid. You fucking stupid woman.”
    As her eyes well with tears, my anger grows in intensity, but not with Peyton. With myself for being careless and acting with an impulsivity that fucks with my life every damn time I act on it.
    “You don’t have to yell at me,” she spits angrily as she stands and straightens her skirt. “Or call me names.”
    A sigh releases from my lungs as I realize what a colossal dick I am. “I made a mistake once and I vowed never to do it again.”
    She keeps her eyes glued to mine, her expression still hurt, stirring my ever present guilt. “I should go.” Her back is to me when she stops at my office door and turns her head to look at me. “For the record, I don’t want a kid either. I’m on the pill.”
    As I watch the door close, I realize I’m once again losing myself to a woman. That I’ve once again put myself in a position to be hurt.
    Beneath all the strength I try to exude, I’m weak and susceptible to a woman with Peyton’s charms. She’s able to see through all of my bullshit and that makes her as dangerous as it does desirable.
    Thankfully, I think my behavior’s ensured that she’s done with me, which I deserve as punishment for my stupidity.

“W hen will my place be finished?” Peyton asks as soon as I enter the loft. Her words and her posture convey chilling distance.
    “Soon,” I answer, heading straight to the bar.
    I hear her approach me from behind but keep my back to her. “I’ve never been so humiliated,” she says softly.
    Knowing I owe her an explanation, I spin around to face her. Only when I see the rejection in her gaze, I can’t find words. The silence around us as I consider how to make things right thickens until she begins tapping her foot. The action combined with her pouting lips amuses me and I release a quiet laugh.
    “What the fuck do you want me to say, Peyton? I told you I’d hurt you. I’m a bad guy with a broken heart that doesn’t know who he is.”
    “No, you’re a good guy with a huge heart that’s been through some bad times. Knowing the difference comes from how much control you give your past.”
    “You’re wrong,” I shake my head, refusing to believe there’s an ounce of worth left in me. “I don’t know what to say.”
    She shoves her pointer finger into my chest, with her expression tight. “You start with an apology, or are you too proud for that?”
    “No,” I huff and then smile. “I’m just not good at it.”
    I watch her mouth trying to smile as she fights to stay mad. “It’s real easy. You open your mouth and say two measly words . . . that’s it . . . Man up . . . Have some balls and . . .”
    I cover her mouth when I see she’s going to keep rattling on until I say what she wants to hear. “I’m sorry.”
    My hand remains for a second but when I feel her smile against it, I let go.
    “See . . . Was that so hard?” Her eyes dance with