by SM Olivier
“What did you want to talk to Peyton about?” Paxton asked somewhat disgruntledly before taking a large bite of his taco.
Once again, Grandpa had convinced me to talk to David. I didn’t know why I had such a soft spot for that man. Maybe it was because he had shown me more love than any of my other blood relatives had ever shown me.
“I wasn’t a good man,” David began without preamble. “I admit it. I had my many faults. I have done many things that I’m not proud of. I cheated on your mother. I was wrong, and I had every intention of doing right by her. However, my mom never liked Priscilla. When your grandmother found out your mother was pregnant, she told me she would take care of it. And like the young, immature, selfish man I was, I allowed her to. I admit I went back to Catherine and told her your mother wasn’t going to keep you.
“When I realized I had been lied to, it was too late. Or so I thought. Sean decided to take care of you both. Mom showed me pictures of you guys, and you looked like a happy family. I was a coward and a disgrace. I should have checked on you. I should have seen if you are okay.”
Truthfully, I had run across a few pictures of me as a baby with Sean and Mom. They had seemed happy at first. It hadn’t lasted, but I knew the photos existed.
“I can understand if you don’t want a relationship with me,” he continued. “I understand that I don’t deserve one. However, I would really love one with you. You are a strong, intelligent woman, and I wish I could say I had a hand in that. It’s evident that even with the shit you went through, you have more character and perseverance than your siblings. I’m sorry for all the hateful and ugly words Catherine said to you. It’s clear that, even with the odds stacked against you, you turned out better than your siblings.”
I would have typically added a snarky comment here, but truthfully, I was tired. I was all emotioned-out− if there was such a thing. I desired only to fight the battles worth fighting. I could see the sincerity in David’s eyes, though, and I was trying to be more understanding.
“And I know I’m to blame for their actions and behavior,” David continued. “I’m trying to be a better man. Knowing what my brother did to you and how many things I don’t even know about my children, who did live with me, made me realize that what I thought was important in my life, really wasn’t.” He shook his head. “What good is all the money in the world if I don’t have my family to enjoy it with? I want to be a better man. I want to be a better father, Peyton. I know it won’t happen overnight, but I would like to get to know you better. I would love it if you allowed me into your life.”
I never believed a leopard could change its spots. However, I had seen the changes David had gone through in the last few weeks. His interest in me seemed purely unselfish. I knew he had a better relationship with Grandpa. And I knew he stepped up when it came to becoming a real uncle to his new nephew and nieces. He was trying, but I didn’t know if I had it in me to get over the fact that he chose Catherine and Leah over Priscilla and me because that’s what his mother wanted him to do.
I went through a lot because he couldn’t man-up and take care of my mother as he should have. Once he found out about my existence, he should have taken an interest. It was convenient for him to form a relationship with me now, and I would always wonder, if I hadn’t helped Claire escape, would he have still wanted to get to know me?
“Baby steps,” I finally told him reluctantly. “I wasn’t aware of my true parentage until I moved here. Up until then, I just assumed my father was a hateful, abusive man. Once I met you, you still weren’t the man I dreamed of as a father growing up. I see the effort you have been making lately, but I’m afraid the novelty will wear off once life settles back down,” I admitted to him. “I’ve already given a lot of adults too many chances in my life. I’ve invested so much in them. I don’t want to put myself out there just to get hurt once more.”
He gave me a somber smile. “I understand that, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight, or even forget. I just want the chance to get to know you. I’m far from perfect, but I want to be, especially for my kids. Can I take you out for coffee tomorrow after dance, before we come back here to work on the float?”
I sighed internally. I didn’t know if I was ready to allow David into my life so soon, but I guess I had to be.
I nodded. “Okay.”
He seemed to want to hug me but then quickly withdrew the desire. I looked over his shoulder and saw Grandpa spying on us. I was sure Grandpa was just there to make sure we “behaved” ourselves—David more than me. Grandpa had been prepared to step in if need be.
I gave my grandfather a crooked smile before taking the few steps to accept David’s embrace.
All of this was taking an emotional toll on Grandpa. He had been through a lot in the last few months. He was still recovering from his bout with cancer, and I was determined he’d become utterly healthy once more. If I had to sacrifice a little bit of my happiness to help him recover, I was more than willing to do so.
David seemed surprised and relieved when I hugged him back, and he held me a little longer and a little tighter than I thought he would. Maybe our road to a relationship could be a little smoother than I predicted.
12
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Admissions
I didn’t think we would be working so late on the float. It was after ten, and I was disappointed to find Lochlann and Kyler already asleep by the time we came home. I really needed to talk to Lochlann, and as crazy as it sounded, I missed seeing Kyler today.
Since my return, we all relaxed every night in the great room after the kids went to bed. It was nice just to relax and talk for a little while. It was the only time the Shadows didn’t seem to be hovering. It had been a comfort and something I looked forward to.
I tried to push away my feeling of disappointment as I entered Paxton’s room after my shower. His room was probably the messiest, hands down. Paxton had piles of clothes in several locations. His hamper was almost always overflowing. However, it was one of my favorite rooms. It was him in a nutshell.
His platform bed was the main focal point when you got to the top of the stairs. The dark, nearly black accent wall behind it was a stark contrast to the rest of his walls. The walls surrounding his bed were filled with black and white photos of his family, in white frames and black matting. The wall that had his dressers and desk was also decorated with pictures of colorful sceneries and nature shots.
The wall where his television and surround sound system were located was my favorite. Before I was abducted, I never saw his room. It wasn’t until my return that I realized he had dedicated this wall to me, to us. There were a few photos of us the night we took pictures together and from my birthday party, but the rest of the wall was mainly filled with shots I didn’t even remember him taking of me. He had been the one to supply the police and FBI my most current photos.
I never considered myself beautiful or terribly photogenic, but he had been able to capture me in the most flattering lights. He seriously had an eye for photography, and I hoped he pursued a career in it. Otherwise, it would be a complete waste of his natural God-giving talents. He was that good and excellent.
Currently, Paxton was sitting at his desk. Don’t You Worry by Oh Wonder was softly playing from his speakers. He had three separate monitors open with pictures of tonight displayed on them. He was so zoned in and focused, he didn’t seem to even notice I was in the room, finished with my shower.
Watching him in his element was sexy. Only, part of my attraction contributed to the fact he was only wearing a pair of gray sweats. He was muscularly lean, and the tattoo on his back was sexy as well, but his steadfast concentration was what genuinely drew me in. He had some deep-seated scars and insecurities, but they all seemed to vanish now, replaced with confidence that settled over him as he meticulously studied his shots.
I leaned on the doorjamb of the bathroom and watched him as he moved his mouse, erasing
any imperfections in individual images and adding filters to others.
Mam might have taught him the basics of photography and gifted him with editing software, but he was naturally talented. Even without the editing software, his shots were breathtaking. The way he could candidly catch someone− most of whom were unaware of his presence− and shine them in a favorable light was impressive.
I made my way across the room and slipped up behind him. He jumped slightly when I placed my arms around his shoulders. I leaned my cheek against the top of his head.
“I’m almost at a stopping point.” He gave me a sheepish grin.
“No rush,” I reassured him.
I was bone-weary tired, but I wouldn’t miss this moment for the world. I liked seeing another side of him and admired the many layers that made up Paxton. He was the flirt, the easy target to his brothers and closest friends, the brother Maisie and Clay gravitated towards to color and create things with. It seemed like I was continually learning new things about him.
I continued to watch him as he displayed three more pictures. I had to smile when I realized he had captured Grandpa and Zane laughing as they attempted to untangle string lights. My family made me happy, and seeing them captured in such a beautiful way filled me with warmth.
“You are so beautiful,” he remarked.
I smiled once more when I realized one of the monitors had a picture of Crew and me on it. I was standing on the top of the ladder filling in the balloon arch. Crew was poised behind me, a few rungs down, with his hands on my waist. My head was tilted, and I was smiling down at him. I barely noticed myself in the picture; it was Crew that I couldn’t stop looking at. For once, his features were unguarded. He had a gentle smile curving around his lips as he looked up at me. There was no denying the connection we had.
Paxton had captured our heartwarming moment. On closer inspection, I noticed that even my smile was a genuine one. After my discussion with David, I had joined the others. Gradually, everyone seemed to stop staring at me. Zane and Crew’s constant presence appeared to unravel the tight ball of nerves in my stomach. Their attentiveness, and the normalness of it all, made me feel the most relaxed in public than I had been for some time.
“You’re an amazing photographer, Paxton,” I whispered in awe before I placed a kiss behind his ear.
I felt him shudder against my lips. He reached up and pulled me down onto his lap. The office chair tilted back slightly. I had no choice but to lean into him. Paxton’s plain long sleeve t-shirt I’d “borrowed” rode up my legs, revealing my thighs. He cleared his throat.
“You can’t kiss me there,” he muttered before he wrapped my hair around his fist and tipped my head to the side.
There was a sharp sting against my scalp before I felt the wet warmth of his lips, followed by the cold ball of his tongue ring. The conflicting feeling of pain and pleasure was euphoric, to say the least. I gasped as goosebumps erupted on my arms.
“Why not?” I inquired breathily.
I had been horny several times over the last few weeks, and sex had been continuously on my mind lately. However, I hadn’t kissed Paxton, nor had I intended to seduce him. I was just in awe of his talent.
The longer he nibbled on my neck, though, the more that deep yearning rose within me. I could feel my breathing become shallower. I felt the burning heat in my core, seeking a release that I wanted Paxton to give me.
“Because,” his voice came out low and husky, “it’s a huge turn-on for me. The back of my neck and ears are extremely sensitive.”
His other hand made its way to my leg. His long, lean fingers caressed the inside of my knee and sensuously rose to my upper inner thigh. He continued to lick and nibble my neck, and I felt his words as if they were my own. Paxton moaned in the back of his throat before gently sinking his teeth in between my neck and shoulder.
I jerked in his lap and gasped at the painful pleasure it gave me. I pulled away from him, turned, and straddled his lap. I grasped his jaw and kissed him with all the pent-up desire I had been feeling.
He deepened the kiss, and I became more restless. I began to rock against him, and I could feel him grow against me. I let out a sound that was a mixture of a gasp and moan as I realized he was rock hard.
“We need to stop,” he said between kisses and gasps.
But his words said one thing while his lips and hands said another. His hand was buried in my hair, gripping my head like a lifeline. His other hand restlessly caressed my thighs, coming closer and closer to my core. I impatiently ground myself against him, my clit throbbing with every pass against his hardness.
“Why?” I demanded as I leaned forward, swirling my tongue against his earlobe before gently taking it between my teeth and biting down.
He shot up like a rocket. His forearms cradled my thighs, and in a surprising move, he took the few steps to the bed and placed me on his bed. “You’ve had a long day,” he groaned.
I could see the war he was battling from within, his eyes hungrily skimming my body. His chest was heaving as if he had just run a marathon.
“So?” I said with a careless shrug.
I was so tired of waiting for my relationship with them to develop and grow physically. I wanted to know what it was like to become intimate with Paxton. Other than making out, we had never made love.
I reached down, and for a split second, my insecurities rose. Paxton had been the one most disturbed by what had happened to me. It was as if my scars and wounds had physically hurt him. His empathetic nature was unable to view my injuries in the beginning without feeling them himself.
He let out an almost pained groan as he dropped to his knees. He grasped my ankles and pulled them towards him so that my legs hung off the bed. He reverently caressed my feet, skin, calves, knees. He dropped his head on the bed in between my thighs and screamed a curse into the mattress.
His hazel eyes were tormented as he finally looked up at me. “I want to eat you out. I want to taste you on my tongue. I want to feel you clench around my fingers as I make you come.”
I whimpered at his words. I felt the wetness between my thighs. With zero hesitation, I reached down and pulled his shirt over my head.
I had a lot to be confident about, but I, too, had my insecurities. My breasts were too small. A lot of my muscle tone from dancing was gone. My ribs were a little too prominent right now. My clavicle looked like it would burst from my skin at any moment. I had lost a lot of definition in my abs. I had a scar beneath my breast hidden behind my tattoo. My arm was riddled with ugly circular pink and white scars from my burn marks. In short, I didn’t feel my prettiest.
All those doubts scattered like leaves in the wind when I saw the hunger in his eyes. In his eyes, I was beautiful, and that concept made me feel beautiful. With just one look, he reassured me that my physical flaws were nonexistent. He didn’t see my scars, my thinness, or compared my body to how it once was. He saw me.
Just like when he held the viewfinder of his camera up to his eye, he was able to create beauty where others might have overlooked it. He saw me in a different light. He chose to ignore all my defects and focus on the beauty in me.
“I don’t know who decided I was too fragile to be intimate with you guys,” I said huskily. “I don’t know who thinks they can decide when I’m ready, but this is my body. I know what I can handle and what I can’t, and right now, I want you, Paxton.”
With zero hesitation and a relieved groan, he grabbed my underwear in his hands and shimmied them down my thighs. I lifted my hips, feeling the glide of the fabric against my knees, down my shins, over my feet, and watched as he tossed them to the side.
He kissed the inside of my knee and moaned. “You are so beautiful. I want you, too, Peyton. I’ve imagined this moment a thousand times.”
“You don’t have to imagine it anymore,” I whimpered as his lips trailed against my sensitive inner thighs. “Please,” I nearly begged as his warm breath caressed my core.
“N
ever, beg,” he lightly nipped my inner thigh, “Tell me what you want. Use me whenever you want. Never, never ask. I’m always yours to take any way or any time.”
The warmth in my chest grew. Was there a way to measure love with time? I didn’t know if it was too early to say I loved him. However, I’m pretty sure this would always be the moment I would remember when I fell in love with Paxton Massey.
His mouth latched onto my clit, and all thoughts were chased away. I didn’t realize how genuinely starving I was for intimate contact until I felt his warm mouth cover me. I moaned and grasped his comforter in a tight grip. His tongue snaked up my slit and circled my clit, and the sensation of his tongue ring nearly had me screaming instantaneously. My hips bucked up of their own accord.
“Paxton,” I panted as he continued to expertly stroke me with his tongue.
The flick of his tongue ring against my sensitive clit was nearly unbearable. The sensations were so intense and acute.
He made a sound of satisfaction as he continued to feast on me like a starving man. I weaved my hands in his hair and thrust my hips to the rhythm of his tongue. I gasped out his name once more when I felt one of his fingers slide into me.
“Come for me, Peyton, let me taste your juices.” He looked up at me with intensity before he slid another finger into me.
I cried out. His tongue ring was relentless against my clit as his fingers slid in and out of me. When he curled his fingers up and found that special spot, stars began to cloud my vision.
The ache in my stomach spread, and I chased my orgasm against his expert ministrations. I gripped his hair, my toes curled, and I cried out when I felt myself hurtling over the edge. He hummed as he caught my juices on his tongue.
My whole body was shaking with the intense orgasm, and I whimpered with surprise. I felt like I was coming back down when Paxton swiped his tongue ring against my overly sensitive clit.