by Amiee Louise
4
Peyton
I wake the next morning with the worse hangover ever. My head is pounding, and I suddenly don’t remember getting home. I am in my underwear, and I sit up to look around the room. I’m relieved to find myself in Sam’s bed. He stands in the doorway of the en-suite bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips. He looks delicious with beads of water running down his abs.
“Good morning, angel.”
He smiles his panty-dropping smile, but I am too hungover to appreciate the sight of his half-naked body.
“How are you feeling?” I clutch my head, and he chuckles softly. “There’s two aspirin and a pint of water by the bed, baby. Trust me, you’ll feel better.”
“Did I do anything to embarrass myself?”
“No, you just threw up, and I brought you back here. You fell asleep in my car. I undressed you and carried you to bed.”
I close my eyes, and apologize, “I’m so sorry, I don’t usually get that drunk.”
“It’s fine. Honestly, don’t worry about it. You’re adorable when you’re drunk, and I didn’t mind taking care of you.”
I take the aspirin from the table beside the bed and polish off the glass of water in one long pull.
“You grab a shower, angel. I’ll go and make breakfast.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Do you even know how to cook?”
He throws his head back and laughs. I decide there and then that his laughter is my favourite sound in the world.
“I get by. I’m in-between housekeepers at the moment, so I’ve either been living on takeaway, or my mum’s been leaving already prepared food in my fridge.”
I laugh. “Does your mum do everything for you?”
He smirks. “Just my washing and my cooking right now. Amy helps when she can too. I need to start interviewing for a new housekeeper as soon as.”
I roll my eyes and get up from the bed, feeling a little steadier on my feet. I go over to the bathroom, and he kisses me on the cheek, avoiding my morning breath.
“I’ll go and make breakfast. Take as long as you need, angel.”
I step into the bathroom, strip out of my underwear, and turn on the shower. I catch sight of myself in the mirror, and I look like shit. I didn’t take my makeup off last night; I have panda eyes, and my hair is dishevelled. I step into the shower, welcoming the feel of the hot water cascading over my body. I spend longer than my usual twenty minutes under the shower washing my hair and trying to get back to something that resembles human. When I emerge from the shower, I’m feeling refreshed and ready to face the day.
My outfit for the day consists of black skinny jeans and an off-black distressed Rolling Stones t-shirt. I make my way to the kitchen; Sam is on the phone, he has the phone resting between his ear and his shoulder. He is cooking breakfast at the same time. A man who knows how to multi-task, I’m impressed!
“Yeah, we leave first thing Monday morning, mate. I need to speak with her first. We’re going on tour, not leaving the fucking country. Last night, yeah, you buried it? Thanks, you are a total legend, mate, I appreciate it. I need to go, I’m making breakfast. You funny bastard. I’ll make sure I don’t poison her. Speak soon, bye.”
He hangs up the phone, and I am curious as to what he needs to speak to me about. I perch myself on a stool at the kitchen island and lean on my hands.
“Feeling better, angel?”
I nod. “Much. Thanks, babe.”
He smiles, and he serves us both breakfast consisting of ham, poached eggs, and mushrooms on brown toast—it looks delicious. He takes a seat on the opposite side of the island, and we both tuck into our breakfast.
“That was Tate on the phone. He sorted last night out, and he purchased the bar for me. He made sure all evidence of the fight was buried to stop it leaking to the press and wiped all CCTV evidence. That bloke is a total bloody legend.”
I look wide-eyed at him. “You bought the bar? That’s a bit excessive.”
“It’s no use having money when you don’t spend it, babe. I told you before, it’s nothing to me, I own this building, I own a few other bars, I have an apartment in New York, a penthouse apartment in Vegas overlooking the strip, I have a mansion in Dublin, beach houses in Hawaii and Florida, and a few other properties. I intend on taking you to all of them, but it’s all irrelevant, really,” he says nonchalantly whilst taking a bite of his breakfast. “Look, I need to speak to you about a few things.”
I nod for him to go on.
“We’re going on a three month UK tour on Monday; I want you to come on tour with us. Before you start arguing, I need you with me, baby. I hate the thought of you being here without me. I want you to let me protect you. We’ve got a double-deck tour bus, and there’s a double bedroom.”
My mouth forms an O shape. I can’t believe he is asking me to go on tour with him. Three months on a tour bus with a bunch of rockers? It sounds like my worst nightmare, but it also sounds like it could be fun. He regards me intently, waiting for my response.
“A double bedroom?”
“Yep, there are two double bedrooms on the top deck, a small kitchen, TV, and seating area, a bunch of sleeper pods on both decks, a bathroom and a small office—it’s basically a house on wheels.”
I am suitably impressed by his description.
“I need to clear it with Seb. He owes me some time. But I’m not sure I can do the whole three months, but certainly a few weeks to a month or so.”
His face breaks out into an ear-splitting grin. “So is that a yes?”
I smile. “Yes.”
He comes over to me and lifts me from the stool, enveloping me in a big bear hug.
“Being on a bus with a bunch of rockers isn’t as bad as it sounds, I promise.”
He pulls away. “There’s something else too, baby.” I look up at him, unsure of what he’s about to say, “My parents have invited us for dinner tonight; I sort of said we would go.”
“So I’m finally going to get to meet the rest of your family?”
“Yep, plus my dad’s band is going too. They’re having some sort of reunion, so my mum decided to make it into a dinner party.”
I am suddenly struck with nerves at meeting the rest of Sam’s family. Panic sets in, and he seems to sense it immediately.
“They’re going to love you, angel, I promise. My dad was quite taken with you, you know Willow already, so it’s just my brothers and my mum.”
I start to relax a little. What could possibly go wrong?
We spend the day together, working out, shopping, and preparing for the night ahead. I get my hair done and call Seb and explain about going on tour with Sam. He agrees that I deserve a break, time to fully recover from the accident, and time to adjust in my role as shop manager. Although I am nervous and apprehensive of what to expect, I am feeling in such a good mood as we shower and get ready for dinner at Sam’s parents.
I want to make a good impression, so I opt for a red and black maxi dress and as a surprise for Sam; I’m not wearing any underwear. I team my dress with black diamante flip-flops and tousle my hair in loose waves. I feel relaxed and comfortable.
“You always look beautiful, angel. You make it look so effortless. You could even make wearing a bin liner sexy.”
Laughing, I say, “Hardly. When we first met, I couldn’t look directly at you because I found you so handsome and devastating. I was so affected by you, no man has ever affected me the way you did, and I was a total mess. I was trying so hard to be indifferent to you, but you made it so god damn hard.”
He raises his eyebrow and grins. “As soon as I saw you, I was instantly smitten.” He puffs out his cheeks at the memory. “You were so feisty and fiercely independent. You weren’t afraid to say no to me, and I loved that. When Ruby took you to lunch that day, I felt like a caged animal waiting for my next encounter with you. Last night when she called and told me that Harley had been bragging and saying shit about you, the thought of his hands all over you made me
feel physically violent. I know we weren’t together then, but I can’t stand it. The only guy I trust around you is Seb. We had a long chat after you fell asleep, he made his feelings clear, and I apologised for being such a dick.”
If only you knew. I quickly push that thought to the back of my mind and smile. I am glad that the two men in my life are at least on friendly terms. I finish getting ready and jab my finger in Sam’s chest.
“You need to stop being so handsome and distracting. You need to get dressed, Sam.”
I kiss him on the lips, and he pulls me down on the bed. I don’t know how he does it, but he has me pinned beneath him, and before I know it, he is straddling me with his muscular thighs on either side of my waist.
“What if I don’t want to get dressed?” he asks huskily, and I instantly feel liquid heat between my legs.
“We’re going to be late, babe.”
He chuckles softly and nuzzles his face in my hair.
“I like your hair. You look spectacular,” he whispers huskily in my ear as he cups my breast in his large hand. “Is this distracting enough for you, angel?”
I bite my lip, and he rolls my nipple between his fingers causing me to moan softly.
“Mmm, Sam.”
He moves his hand under my dress and between my legs, and he strokes my bare sex.
“Mmm, no underwear. Are you deliberately trying to tease me, angel?”
The sound of his voice twinned with the feel of his fingers stroking me is making me desperate to feel his cock inside me.
“I can feel how turned on you are, baby, and it’s all for me. No other man can make you come like I can.”
His voice is dripping with seduction, and I am a slave to his touch. He pushes his middle finger inside me, finds my sensitive nub with his thumb, and strokes gentle circles. I am writhing and panting beneath him, desperate for his touch, fraught for my release.
“Look how you respond to me, angel.”
I can see his thick erection straining through his boxer briefs.
“Sam, fuck me please,” I whine, breathless and desperate. He smiles wickedly and winks.
“Not until later, baby. I need to get dressed, or we’re going to be late.”
He climbs off the bed, leaving me panting and craving my release. Fucking tease!
He moves over to the walk-in wardrobe, and I shout, “Fine! I’ll finish myself off then!”
Like lightning, he sprints back over to me and pins both of my hands above my head in one of his hands, pressing his muscled chest against me.
“Do not touch yourself; you’re going to trust that I’ll take care of you later, angel.”
He winks and knows he has me right where he wants me. Bastard! He plants a chaste kiss on my lips, pulls me to my feet, and goes back over to the walk-in wardrobe. He emerges wearing black skinny jeans, a white skull vest, a fitted, black, suit jacket, and black Doc Marten boots. He looks mouth-wateringly attractive. I watch as he gets ready and lick my lips—he catches me watching him and laughs.
“See something you like, my lovely?” I bite my lip. “Now, you know what biting your lip does to me. Play nice.”
He checks his reflection, runs his hand through his freshly-spiked hair and straightens his jacket. I pick up my black clutch bag, and he offers me his hand. I take it, and we walk into the living area. Cole is waiting for us; he looks at his watch.
“Someone’s cutting it fine, mate.”
Sam laughs and says, “Blame this one. Bloody women.”
He swats my bum, then Cole and he both laugh. We go down to the parking garage, and Cole is driving Sam’s white Porsche Cayenne 4x4. We make our way to Sam’s parents’ house in Ashford in Kent. It takes us over an hour to get there, and when we pull up outside, I am awestruck by the property in front of me. We get out of the car, and Sam laughs at my reaction. He explains to me that it is a detached five-bedroom house with a double garage, stables, and around three acres of land. It has been built in the style of a traditional Kent barn.
Sam leads me over to the door and pushes it open. A striking older woman greets us. She is tall, slender, has dark-brown, jaw-length hair, blue-green eyes, and a bright-red-lipsticked smile.
“Sam, darling,” she croons. She hugs Sam and kisses his cheek. I notice that her accent is soft and American. “It’s so good to see you.”
She pulls away from Sam’s embrace.
“It’s good to see you too, Mum. Looking stunning as ever. I’ve missed you.”
“Charming as ever, sweetie, just like your father,” she says with a laugh. She turns to me and takes both of my hands in hers. “You must be Peyton; it’s so lovely to finally meet the woman who’s turned my boy into a monogamous man.”
I laugh and clear my throat. “It’s so good to meet you too, Mrs. Newbolt.”
“Please call me Lori. I’ve heard nothing but great things about you, Peyton, can I get you a drink?”
I nod. “Yes, please, rose wine would be fantastic.”
“A girl after my own heart. Coming right up. There are some beers in the refrigerator, darling, help yourself.”
Lori goes off into the kitchen and Willow comes bounding down the wooden staircase. She is as lively as ever with her short-cropped dark hair, quirky dress sense, and enthusiastic personality.
“Peyton! Sam!”
She jumps into Sam’s arms, and I laugh at their brotherly-sisterly exchange. She pulls away from Sam and comes over to me; she throws her arms around me, squeezing me tightly.
“Oh, my God, Peyton, I heard about the accident. I’m so glad you’re OK, why didn’t you call me?”
She pulls away, and I go to speak, but Sam stops her.
“Don’t crowd her, Wills.”
She smiles sweetly. “Sorry, it’s just so good to see you guys. It’s been forever,” she says dramatically, and Marlowe strolls into the room.
“Son.” Sam smiles, and they hug. “Peyton, it’s so good to see you again, looking beautiful as ever.”
Marlowe smiles and kisses my hand. Lori comes back into the room with our drinks.
“Let me give you the tour, Peyton.”
I take my drink from her and follow her out of the room. We step into the large open-plan kitchen.
“When I heard my boy had met a girl, I was hoping it wasn’t one of those god-awful groupies him and that band of his surround themselves with. I was pleasantly surprised. You seem to ground him, and with Sam, that’s always a good thing, believe me, honey.”
I nod and smile, suddenly feeling nervous. I take a large gulp of my wine.
“Relax, Peyton, first impressions? I really like you, I haven’t seen him this happy in such a long time. He has his old sparkle back.”
I take a sip of my drink, and she brushes my arm.
“Do you want my advice, sweetie? Don’t let the rock star thing taint your views. I’ve been a rock star wife for almost thirty years now, and I know how it is with the tour buses, groupies, and that vile man J.D.” She shudders as she says his name and I am curious to what she means. Before I can ask, we are interrupted by the arrival of two young men. The one is a paler, thinner version of Sam with dark spiky hair and friendly green eyes; the other is tall with shoulder-length, dark-brown hair, muscular with bronzed skin, blue-green eyes, and a bright, casual smile.
“Peyton, these are my other two sons, Elijah and Brandon.”
The shorter one smiles. “You can call me Eli if you like?”
I find myself smiling back and nod before saying, “I’m Peyton.”
The taller one salutes coolly, and it reminds me so much of Sam.
“Brandon.” His voice is husky like Sam’s and a mixture between English and American, just like Savannah.
“Brandon is also in a band called The Iron Warriors and Elijah is studying medicine,” Lori informs me, and I nod, impressed at the diversity of their lives.
“Do you need a hand in the kitchen, Mum?” Elijah offers.
“No, thank you, swee
tie. Could you and your brother go and lay the table please?”
Elijah and Brandon leave the room. A few minutes later, Sam, Marlowe, and two other older men join us. I recognise them from the picture on Sam’s fridge—the other two members of Marlowe’s band The Lightning Bolts.
“I’m Milo Lightman. You must be the very beautiful Peyton.”
He kisses my hand. His voice is deep, raspy, and has a prominent East London accent.
The other man nods and says, “I’m Seth Jones, pleasure to meet you, my love.”