Instead of saying anything, Payton scampered off the bed and dashed into the bathroom. Running my hands over my face and through my hair, it occurred to me how lucky I really was. I could wake up to that every morning and be a very happy man. Payton was many things, but predictable was not one of them.
A moment later she emerged wearing a t-shirt that was at least three sizes too big for her and a shy smile. She had absolutely nothing to be shy about. Lifting the covers, she slipped back into bed beside me, putting her back to me. That was bullshit. She may have just had her lips wrapped around my cock, but she didn’t get to hide from me now. While my inner caveman started beating his chest, I grabbed her by the hips and pulled her tight against me. She tried to move away. I knew she would, but I didn’t let her. Not an inch. After a few seconds of squirming, she gave up and settled in. Right where I wanted her.
It was still dark outside. I don’t know how long I’d been asleep, but suddenly I found myself not tired at all. Nibbling on her earlobe earned me a soft moan and wiggle of a plump ass against my hardening cock. Licking the column of her neck, she tilted her head to the side, granting me access. I rocked my hips into her ass, and when she pressed back against me, I couldn’t hold back a minute longer. My balls were heavy and aching, and I needed to get inside her. Right fucking now.
Flipping her over, Payton was on her hands and knees, her ass in the air. “Condom!” she gasped when my fingers dug into her thighs.
Fuck, I was glad she was thinking straight. I wasn’t. And I never forgot to wrap it. This woman had stolen my ability to think.
“Top drawer,” she directed as she scrambled across the mattress, yanking open the drawer a little too hard, sending it clattering to the floor. Payton was a trooper, though. She barely looked at the mess. Instead threw me a foil packet before settling herself on her knees and wrapped her fingers around the iron bed frame.
I rolled on the condom, barely taking a breath before sinking into her warmth. I rode her hard. Harder than I should have, but she didn’t seem to mind. She met my every thrust with a needy sigh or a moan. Determined to make her come before I did, I reached down and rubbed her already swollen clit. She was dripping. The moment my fingers found her pleasure button, she screamed. She screamed my name. She prayed to gods she’d never before believed in. When I felt her clamping down, all it took was another little flick and she flew over the edge, taking me with her.
Sitting back on my knees, my cock still buried inside her, I rubbed my hands up and down her rib cage as we rode the waves together. Pulling out, I flopped onto my back as Payton’s knees slid from under her.
“I knew it.”
“Huh?” Her eyes weren’t open and she was barely coherent.
“I told you, you weren’t a quick fuck kinda girl.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t keep my hands to myself. I ran my fingers up and down her spine, leaving a trail of goose bumps as I went.
Enjoying seeing her squirm probably a little too much, I had to ask, “I’d say that was a screaming orgasm or two. Wouldn’t you?”
That did it. Without opening her eyes, Payton yanked the pillow from under her and covered her face. It was so fucking cute. She hadn’t been shy when she’d woken me with her lips wrapped around me. And she definitely hadn’t been shy when she’d come screaming my name as I spanked her ass.
Uncovering her face, I kissed her with what little energy I had left. At first she hesitated, but then, as she had with everything else, Payton stepped up and took charge, plunging her inquisitive tongue in my mouth. If I wasn’t completely exhausted, I’d be considering round three. Maybe in the morning.
I woke up alone, completely rested, and feeling fucking fantastic. The room was filled with morning light, and my eyes struggled to adjust. When they did, last night came crashing back. I may have been drinking, but I was nowhere near drunk. Sitting up, I took in the large, light-filled room. It was so, so girly. Every single surface was cluttered with crap. Candles and photo frames, smelly stick things I’d seen before but didn’t have a clue what they did, if anything at all. There was only one thing missing. Payton.
Sweeping my hands across the sheets, they were cool. She’d been gone for a while. Not giving a shit about my lack of clothing, I stumbled from the bed and padded into the bathroom. After taking a leak, I splashed some cold water on my face before stealing some toothpaste and finger brushing my teeth. It wasn’t the best job I’d ever done, but it banished off the morning breath and that was as good as it was going to get.
Wandering back through her eerily silent apartment, I wasn’t proud of the fact I was snooping, I just couldn’t help it. Opening the drawers beneath the TV, I didn’t find anything exciting. A few trashy novels, all with the same tattooed shirtless model on the front smiling cheesily. I would never understand why women loved that shit. It was so fake. No guy looked like that in real life. No wonder they ate up every single bullshit word guys threw out there. They were reading crap like this. Dreaming about a guy with a leather jacket and a sleeve of tattoos, only it was all covering up the heart of gold beneath. It was fucking crazy. And if I thought I could actually write one of these smutty books and make a dollar from it, hand me a damn pen.
Bored, I moved on. I found myself standing in Payton’s kitchen. Where the rest of her apartment was warm and cosy, lived in, her kitchen was clinical. Everything had its place. Canisters of flour and sugar sat on the shelf, lined up precisely in alphabetical order. It was weird. The urge to muck about with her system was tempting. Almost too tempting. Resisting, I grabbed my boxers and pants from the floor, unable to stop the smile from spreading across my face as I recalled how they’d ended up there. One look at the kitchen bench and I felt my dick twitch at the memory. Damn! It was a good memory.
Scooping up my shirt, I slipped it on before going back to the bedroom. After straightening the sheets, I buttoned my shirt and stood in front of the dresser. There was her perfume. That was the scent of Payton. Grabbing the bottle, I took a huge whiff, resulting in a wild coughing fit. Maybe I’d breathed in a little too much Payton…if there was such a thing. Putting back the delicate little glass bottle, I noticed it was almost empty. I hoped she had a stash of that shit somewhere. I was damn addicted to it already.
I should have known better. I wasn’t an idiot. At least I didn’t think I was. I was wrong. Very fucking wrong. For some reason, one I’ll never understand, I opened the top drawer of her dresser. It was filled to the brim with sexy ass underwear. There were black bras, that when I dangled them from my fingertips, I could see straight through the lace. The semi I’d been sporting wasn’t going to be half-hearted much longer. Dropping the bra I should have closed the drawer and backed away. Pretended to be a gentleman. Except a gentleman would never have snooped in the first place. Obviously I wasn’t one. Instead I started rifling through her underwear. Like a fucking creeper. I couldn’t help it. Every colour of the fucking rainbow was there. There were silky panties and lacy G-strings. Even a few pair of grey cotton undies. I don’t know why I found them just as hot as the barely there pieces of string. There was something seriously wrong with me.
When my fingers brushed over something soft, I felt my stomach lurch. Wrapping my hand around it, I pulled it up. I knew what it was before I opened it. Jewellery boxes were all the same. Especially black velvet ones. I’d seen Mum bring home enough of them over the years. That woman dripped in diamonds and precious gems. Even thinking about her got my back up.
“Fuck it!” I swore. I had to get home. I knew Connor would be waiting to know what I’d found out yesterday. If Dad was sober enough, he probably would be too. If he remembered. Dropping the box back amongst the pile of frilly things, I shut the drawer and went in search of my shoes.
Five minutes and I was fully dressed, the bed was made, and it looked like I’d never been here. Something I didn’t really like. I should have been pissed to have woken up alone. She’d l
eft me no note, nothing. Instead she’d just vanished, leaving me completely unsupervised in her apartment.
It was as I reached for the door handle to head downstairs where I knew I’d find not only Payton, but a cup of coffee as well, that I turned back. Someone needed to examine my head. Figure out why I did dumb shit. In a few quick strides I had her underwear drawer open and the box in my hand. I hoped it was earrings or a necklace, but something in the gurgling pit of my stomach was assuring me it wasn’t.
Cracking open the lid quickly, my mouth fell.
Fuck, I hated being right.
This is what you got for acting like a slut. My arms were covered in burns from the metal trays I’d attempted to pull from the oven—something I’d done a hundred times this week alone. No matter how many glasses of water I drank, I was still thirsty. Every muscle in my body protested each move. Muscles that I didn’t even know I had, muscles that obviously didn’t get used very often, ached. The ones between my thighs, pleasantly so. Don’t even get me started on my head. It felt like a whole village of tiny little men had moved in and started a construction company inside. All I wanted to do was crawl upstairs, dive back into bed, and sleep these bad decisions off.
I couldn’t even do that.
My bed wasn’t empty.
“Ugh!”
Grabbing the bowl, I filled the piping bag with the thick chocolate butter cream icing, managing to splatter myself with a large glob. Today it seemed my clumsiness knew no bounds.
Ignoring the mess, I set to work trying to ice the dozen triple choc cupcakes I’d managed not to cremate. If people who cooked for a living—chefs, bakers, confectioners or chocolatiers—told you that their emotions weren’t played out in the food they created, they were lying. They were straight out, undeniably full of shit. And I was nothing but another example of that. I was feeling sick and miserable and guilty as hell, thus triple choc cupcakes, fudge slices, and the special of the day, Nutella scrolls. Everything tasted better with Nutella.
While I stood there icing cupcakes, I heard the bell above the front door jingle. “I’ll be out in a second,” I called out, forcing cheeriness into my voice.
“Coffee! Need coffee!” came the dramatic reply.
I didn’t need to see the owner of the raspy voice to know who’d just fallen through my door. Probably two very tired, very hungover women who deserved everything they were suffering from.
Finishing up the last cupcake, I shuffled out the front. Even though I’d already finished my two cups this morning, it wouldn’t deter me from indulging in a third. Stepping behind the coffee machine, I grabbed the milk and got to work. In the corner booth, Josie’s head was tipped back, her eyes closed. Mia looked more than a little worse for wear. Her head was resting on her arms on the table and her eyes were still hidden behind her oversized sunglasses.
Grabbing the coffees, I made my way over to them before flopping down beside them. Josie grabbed greedily, ignoring the splash that landed on her fingers. God help anyone or anything that got between her and her caffeine today.
After everyone had swallowed a few huge gulps, I asked, “How are you feeling this morning?”
“I want to die,” Mia moaned, cradling her cup to her lips.
“Oh come on.” Josie laughed at her sister’s obvious distress. “It’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad? Tell that to my head, would you? And for fuck’s sake, Payton, can you turn that fucking sun down?”
“That’s a new one.”
At the unexpected contributor’s deep voice, all three of us looked up to find its owner.
I wish I didn’t.
I wish Mia and Josie hadn’t.
I wished the ground would open up and suck me down into the fiery pits of hell.
Wishes never came fucking true when you needed them to.
“H-hi Beau,” Mia stumbled.
Josie didn’t. Bitch. “Fancy seeing you around here this morning.”
“Just wanted some coffee.”
I didn’t miss the wink he threw in my direction. Nor did I miss the way he moved so comfortably around my bakery, pouring himself a cup. Couldn’t he be like a normal guy and just vanish? Was that too much to ask? I didn’t think so.
“You’re looking…”
“Dishevelled?” Mia suggested.
“I was going to go with ‘just sporting the recently fucked look,’ wouldn’t you agree, Payton?”
My face was on fire. Forcing myself to take a huge gulp of my coffee, I forgot to breathe and ending up just coughing and spluttering it everywhere. Mia and Josie erupted in a fit of giggles at my expense. Glad I was so fucking amusing.
He sauntered over to where we were nursing our hangovers and enjoying our pity party. Surprisingly, he looked amazingly fresh and alive. The urge to reach out and punch him in the nuts was ridiculous…right up until the second I noticed he’d prepared his coffee in a to-go cup. He wasn’t planning on staying. Hallelujah! Maybe there was a God. And if there was, she was awesome.
“Morning, ladies. How are we feeling today?”
“Stop. Shouting!” Mia grumbled, not lifting her head from the table between us.
He laughed one of those deep belly laughs that drove me crazy. It made previously underused parts of my body tingle. The parts that had absolutely no right to be tingling at this man’s sexy ass voice.
“Payton, I’ve gotta head out. Connor’s probably wondering where I am.”
“Okay.”
Stop talking and just go already. I didn’t want your life story. Please. I’m begging you, just let me crawl under the table and leave me with the pleasurable memories. Memories I’m sure to use for many, many months to come.
“I’ll give you a call later.”
What the fuck? Why would he call? How would he have my number? Why would he even want to call? Didn’t he understand the rules of a one night stand?
Thankfully, he didn’t wait for my answer before he turned that fine ass around, the one that only hours ago I’d sunk my fingernails into, and headed out. I watched him through the window and noticed the smudges on the glass. Instantly I was flooded with images. They were mine. I’d been the one to put them there. The hand print on the glass. I needed to get it off now. Maybe a bucket of hot water could also wash away the shame that was currently smothering me.
“What—” Both Mia and Josie started at the same time.
Holding my hand up, warning them off, I took a sip of my coffee and dropped my head back against the seat.
“Nah ah. Start talking, Missy.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied pathetically.
“Bullshit. Now either you start talking, or we will call Mr. McIntyre with the nice ass back and we can all have a discussion.”
“Okay! Okay!” I caved. I knew Josie didn’t make idle threats. Not about this sort of shit, anyway.
“And no skimping on the details.”
Suddenly Mia wasn’t so hungover.
I was screwed.
“Um, Payton. Why do you look like you’re about to hurl?”
I didn’t realise I did, but Mia’s observation didn’t come as a shock. I wasn’t feeling that good.
“I’m good.”
“Great. Now, tell us. How was he?”
I know I should be used to Josie’s crass, uncensored comments. I wasn’t. I doubted I ever would be. It just wasn’t me. Sex was one of those topics, kinda like money. Yep, we know everyone has it, but that doesn’t mean you talk about it. Ever. What happened in the privacy of your own bedroom stayed there. At least what happened in mine did. Which up until twelve hours ago hadn’t seen much action at all.
“Excuse me?”
“The sex. How was it? He looks like he’s the kind of guy who knows what he’s doing.”
“How was yours?” I snapped back.
I didn’t mean to be a bitch, it just came naturally. I was deflecting. I didn’t want to have this conversation, at least not this morning. I had
n’t even really had time to digest what happened, let alone try to come up with a suitable explanation for two very over-enthusiastic, hungover women.
“Stupid Nate!” Josie groaned. “Ass hat wouldn’t even put out last night. And when I reached for his cock, he slapped my hands away.”
That did it. Mia erupted in a fit of laughter, coffee bubbling out of her nose as she was caught unaware. I don’t know why she hadn’t seen that coming. I had. A mile away. And I wasn’t even her sister. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Mia attempted to right herself again.
“Oh, poor Josie!”
“Exactly! I needed it and he wouldn’t help me out.”
“I’m almost scared to ask what happened.”
She looked at me with an evil glint in her eye. I may not have known Josie for very long, but I knew her well enough to know there was no way she would take this lying down. Especially if she’d been drinking. If anything, the alcohol just strengthened her resolve and lowered her inhibitions.
“If you must know, I stripped off and slipped into bed beside him.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Cut the crap, Josie. How did you torture Nate for turning you down?”
“He turned you down?” The deep voice cut through our R-rated conversation, and I would have sworn I heard necks snap as we all looked around to see who’d breached our privacy.
Derek was standing there, looking unfairly fresh with Zoe snug beside him. But it was the man behind them holding a little girl’s hand that captured my attention. The man himself. Nate was standing there with Matilda, a smug look on his face. He didn’t seem at all fazed or surprised really, that we were sitting here discussing his sex life, or lack thereof.
“Mum! Mum! Mum!” Matilda squealed as she broke free and scampered towards Josie. She managed to push her coffee out of the way barely seconds before the ball of energy leapt into her lap and buried her face into Josie’s boobs.
I watched the intense gazes exchanged between Josie and Nate. It was a challenge. Who’d break first? From her silence, my bet was Nate’d win. He’d tamed her. I was wrong. Without breaking the stare, Josie continued on as if the person she was talking about wasn’t there. “What did I do? You mean when the man I share a bed with every night turned me down after I’d had a sexy, almost naked man grinding on me? I did what any girl in my situation would do. I broke out my favourite vibrator and took matters into my own hands.”
Taking Charge (Meet the McIntyres Book 1) Page 11