by Nikkie Locke
“Trust me with this.”
He felt her nod more than saw it. He sat up quickly and moved to take her nightie off. She didn’t lift up, though, even after he gently nudged her.
“I don’t think — ”
“It’s fine,” he interrupted.
He spread her knees enough for him to kneel between them. Slipping the thin straps of her nightie off her shoulders, he uncovered her breasts. Leaning forward on his elbows, he settled himself between her legs. They both gasped at the contact.
He captured her mouth with his own. Warning himself to slow down, he pressed kisses across her cheek, along her jaw, and down her neck. It was a marathon, he told himself while he lavished attention on a tender spot where her neck met her shoulder, not a sprint.
He continued his line of kisses down the valley between her breasts. When he heard her breath shudder out of her, he turned his attention to her breast. He suckled with long, deep pulls of his mouth until she whimpered.
“Dean,” she gasped, sliding a hand into his hair.
When he released her breast to move to the other, the hand she tangled in his hair pulled at him. He chuckled as he leaned more heavily on his arm for better access. He nuzzled her breast.
“Stop teasing,” she groaned.
He laughed again. “I haven’t even started teasing yet.”
She gave his hair a slight tug. He couldn’t help smiling as he nuzzled her again. Quickly, though, he settled into the same slow rhythm of pulls he had used before. The feel of her soft skin in his mouth and her pebbled nipple rubbing along his tongue were enough to slowly drive him mad.
Putting more of his weight on his arm, he used his free hand to grasp her other breast. He switched between tugging gently at her nipple and palming her breast for gentle squeezes.
The sounds of her enjoyment rang in his ears. She might have been nervous, but she definitely wasn’t quiet. He prayed Smith didn’t come to investigate.
Releasing her breast, his hand slid over her body slickly. He dipped his hand under her nightie to slide down her ribcage, across her quivering stomach, and into the small patch of curls nestled between her legs. The nightie bunched around the tops of her thighs.
His fingertips skipped over her clit to dip into her instead. He had learned the night before how little attention it took to send her over that way, and he didn’t want her coming until he was buried deep inside her.
The movements of his mouth at her breast and his fingers inside her soon had her writhing. When he grazed his thumb across her clit, he felt her muscles tighten around his fingers. Before she could climax, though, he pulled back. She moaned in protest. Quickly, he tugged her nightie off and tossed it over his shoulder.
He rolled off the bed and stood to finish undressing. With his eyes better adjusted to the darkness, he could make out her features. She was definitely ready.
“Gorgeous,” he breathed.
He heard her breath catch. He wasn’t sure if it was because of what he had said or if it was because his jeans had hit the floor as he said it. His boxers followed.
“I can see you,” she said as he slid back into bed.
Moving over her, he rested his forehead against hers for a moment. He knew he wasn’t going to last. Her breath blew warm against his face, and her breasts rubbed against his chest with every breath. Her long legs tangled with his and her hip perfectly cradled his.
He pulled back only as far as necessary to see her face. “I’m glad,” he answered.
She wrapped her arms around him.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded. “I trust you.”
He reached down and pressed himself to her entrance. He groaned. She was so wet.
“Don’t stop.”
“I’m not going to,” he assured her.
He pressed slowly inward. It was difficult for him to go slowly. She was so warm and wet. Her hands were sliding over every inch of his skin she could reach. With every bit he gained, the delicious noises she made grew louder and more frequent. Unable to resist, he pressed his last few inches in faster and harder than he should have.
“Oh god! Wait — Just one — Oh!”
He stilled inside her. Part of him worried he had hurt her. The other part of him, the part that was sure he hadn’t, fought not to come. He wasn’t ready for it to be over yet.
“All right?”
When the only response he got was a slow moan, he pulled back to look at her face. Her eyes were closed.
“Talk to me, Payten.”
He watched her eyes slowly open as her tongue slid out to wet her lips.
“It’s just — It’s just a lot,” she told him.
He chuckled at that. His laughter shook his body, moving him inside her.
“Oh, God! Do that again,” she demanded.
Before he could move, she raised her knees, allowing him to sink deeper into her. He surrendered and began thrusting in earnest. Their bodies fit perfectly together. He kissed her gently while he moved inside her.
It wasn’t long before her inner muscles tightened, clutching at him. Reaching between them, he found her clit. He stroked her in time with his thrusts.
She opened her eyes to look up at him. When he leaned down to kiss her, she moved her hands from his back to his cheeks. Somewhere during that kiss, while he continued to thrust and stroke, she tipped over the edge.
“Dean,” she breathed.
He didn’t know if it was the sound of her saying his name or the feel of her wrapped tightly around him milking him, but he erupted like he never had before. As he spilled into her and she gasped his name again, he knew he loved her more than he’d ever thought possible.
• • •
When Payten woke the next morning, it was to the delicious sensation of Dean wrapped around her. She lay on her side, her head pillowed on Dean’s arm. His other arm lay across her waist. His knee was wedged between hers.
She wasn’t wearing any clothes, and the blankets had been kicked to the end of the bed during their lovemaking the night before. She wasn’t cold, though. She couldn’t be with him pressed against her.
She listened to his deep breathing, almost mesmerized. She was lying in bed with Dean. The bed where they had made love. She, Payten Bailey, had made love to Dean Whitley and was lying in his bed. The thought made her want to giggle.
She would have never guessed when the girls were yakking at her during Bridgett’s engagement party that she would actually wind up sleeping with him.
The girls, she thought excitedly. She glanced at her phone on the nightstand. Before she had fallen asleep, he’d gone to get their phones from the living room.
She stretched toward the nightstand. Her fingers brushed against the edge of the phone twice before she bumped it close enough to grab. Still moving slowly, she pulled the phone back to her.
After setting her phone on silent in anticipation of the girls’ responses, she quickly typed them a message.
I can’t believe that at twenty-two I’m texting my girls to tell them I lost my virginity, she thought. She hesitated for a moment. Then, with a mental shrug — after all, you only lose it once — she sent her message.
Dean’s soft snore startled her. Once she realized what the noise was, she fought back a giggle. He snored. She hadn’t known that. Reaching up with the hand that wasn’t holding her phone, she traced little circles on his hand. His hands were calloused. She liked that. It was something else she hadn’t known.
Still asleep, he pulled her closer. His breathing was heavy in her ear. Steady and strong. That was Dean.
She figured he would disagree with the description. The night he had his nightmare, she could tell how much he hated her seeing him like that. He thought the nightmares somehow made him weak. She disagreed.
The sudden light from her phone distracted her. It was Maddie.
Seven a.m.? Kidding me? Who has sex at seven in the a.m.?
She fought down a giggle. Before she could answer
Maddie, Andie answered her. She opened the message.
Congrats on the sex. You need it. Do him again.
She did giggle then. She couldn’t stop herself. When Dean stirred behind her, she quieted. She heard his breathing change. She could tell he was waking up. She peeked at her phone again.
Do you love him? Bridgett messaged her.
Did she?
Dean pulled her tighter to him. He nuzzled her hair with his face. She let out a happy sigh.
“How do you feel?” he asked her, his voice lower than usual and raspy from sleep.
She rolled over in his arms to face him. He kissed her forehead and each of her cheeks. Then he placed the gentlest kiss on her lips.
“I feel absolutely wonderful,” she said. “Absolutely wonderful.”
“Good,” he replied. He rolled her onto her back and followed her. He leaned over her. “If you aren’t feeling up to it — ”
She grinned up at him and pulled him down into a kiss. So up for it again, she thought.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Oh, come on!” Payten protested.
“Shut up, Payten,” Kalvin told her.
“This is ridiculous!”
“Might as well give it up,” Burke muttered.
“You guys! Is this really necessary?”
“Yes,” Luke answered.
“Dean! This is ridiculous.”
“You already said that,” he replied.
Payten gaped at him. He didn’t look at her. Instead, he stared straight ahead. She looked around the tiny room inside the village’s city hall building. Kalvin and Burke sat in front of her in the front row of folding chairs that had been set up for the community betterment meeting. Luke and Dean sat on either side of her in the back row.
The four men were being completely unreasonable. They had insisted on attending the meeting with her. She had expected it of Dean. He had already assured her he was glued to her side until the whole thing was over. It made sense for Burke to be there, too. It was his job. He had relieved Officer Chase from her day shift.
Kalvin and Luke’s presence surprised her, though. Kalvin had shown up minutes before they left Dean’s house. He had insisted that as her best male friend and favorite dance partner it was his duty to tag along.
Luke had trudged into the house moments later. After a short hello to Burke and Dean, Luke explained he had just arrived at the men’s house when Kalvin was leaving. He decided he might as well tag along.
So here I sit, she thought. She stared at the side of Dean’s head. Ridiculous. Ignore this.
She reached over and pinched his leg. Hard.
Jerking, he pushed her hand away and glared at her. “What was that for?”
“Are you kidding me?”
He shrugged. “You’re the one who insisted on coming.”
“You’re the one that insisted on a freakin’ posse to go to a meeting! Look around, Dean. The room is smaller than your living room. You really think a stranger is going to be able to walk in here and — and do whatever,” she finished lamely.
“Who said it was a stranger?” Luke asked.
She glared at him.
Burke turned around in his chair. “It is a possibility we know the person responsible.”
“We do know the person,” Kalvin said turning in his own chair. “It’s that bastard Peterson.”
“Not possible,” Burke objected. “He’s in prison.”
“I talked to him, Burke. How do you explain that?” Dean asked.
“I haven’t figured it out yet. Maybe a visitor smuggled a phone into him. We’re checking out the visitors’ log. I’ll find it.”
“Is there anybody on the logs that we know?” Kalvin asked.
“It doesn’t matter tonight,” Dean decided. He looked at Payten. “It doesn’t matter tonight if it’s a stranger or not. Tonight, we’re keeping you safe. Then we’re going home.”
She started to answer him, but Ms. Clarke strolled into the meeting room and made a beeline for their small group. Of course, she would be the first person into the room.
“Be nice,” Dean warned her.
“Don’t tell her anything,” Burke whispered at the same time.
Ms. Clarke came to a stop in front of them. Her glasses perched on the end of her nose, and she looked over the frames at their small group.
“Good evening, Ms. Clarke,” Kalvin said with a charming grin.
“Kalvin.” She smiled back. “How’s your mother?”
“She’s doing good. Driving my dad crazy with the kitchen remodel.” He laughed.
“And your sisters?”
“All fine. Thanks for asking.”
“I heard Marilee was in the middle of a nasty divorce.”
Payten could almost see Kalvin grind his teeth. He was always fast with the charm. It came naturally to him. He was fiercely protective of his four older sisters, though. He knew anything he told Ms. Clarke would be spread all over town within hours.
“She is getting a divorce,” he answered. “We’re not sad to see him go, though.”
Ms. Clarke nodded in a gesture of sympathy. “He never did know how to treat a lady.”
Kalvin shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
“Not like you, Kalvin, dear.” She reached out and patted his cheek. “You know, Suzy Hamilton told me her daughter could use a decent guy. Jack Montoya is no good.”
Payten fought to contain her laughter. Apparently, Luke wasn’t as polite. He didn’t even try to disguise his burst of laughter.
Ms. Clarke pretended surprise when she looked back at him. “Luke Donovan! Is that you?”
He didn’t answer.
“We haven’t seen you in ages. Where have you been?”
He still didn’t answer. He just blinked at her.
Undisturbed, she moved on. “I noticed you haven’t been staying at your house, Payten.”
Payten struggled not to roll her eyes. Noticed? It’s more likely she’s staked out in my front yard. She nodded instead.
“You poor dear,” Ms. Clarke went on. “I don’t think I could stay in my house alone either if I came home to what you did. They say that little Boston’s blood — ”
“I’m staying at Dean’s,” Payten interrupted.
She didn’t even want to think about what had been done to Boston inside her home. Throwing out a juicy fact like her staying at Dean’s would distract Ms. Clarke completely.
Dean frowned at her. She grinned back at him.
“Oh, my goodness,” Ms. Clarke started. She reached out like she needed support. Kalvin dutifully took her hand. “But you two aren’t married.”
Knowing Ms. Clarke would keep the men busy for a little bit, Payten escaped for what she was sure would be her only moment alone that evening.
“You’ll have to excuse me,” she said. She stood up and wove between Kalvin and Burke’s chairs. “I need to use the restroom.”
“But — ”
“Feeling nauseous?” Ms. Clarke asked, interrupting Dean’s protest. “Did you know morning sickness can happen in the evening too?”
The look on Dean’s face almost made Payten pee her pants. Priceless. She smiled at Ms. Clarke. “I didn’t know that. Please excuse me.”
As she left the main room and moved through the narrow hall to the bathroom at the back of the building, she heard Ms. Clarke lecturing Dean on his “responsibilities.” She grinned wickedly.
She stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Suddenly, there was a burst of pain across her face. She fell to the floor of the bathroom in a heap.
What the fu —
“Payten.” The harsh rasp of her name made her look up.
A man stood over her. Her panic rose, and her stomach sank. She could hear her heart pounding in her chest, feel it throbbing in her face. From her nose, a thin line of blood trickled.
“If you scream, I’ll kill you,” he warned.
She thought about screaming anyway. She sucked a deep br
eath in.
“I’ll kill Dean when he comes for you.”
She let the breath out in a rush. Well, that limited her options, didn’t it? She watched silently as he pulled a knife from his waistband.
• • •
“Ms. Clarke — ” Dean tried to interrupt.
“ — Poor Payten. Teddy must be very upset. Taking advantage of his only daughter like that.”
“I did not take advantage of her,” he muttered.
“She’s just a little girl,” Ms. Clarke continued.
“She’s almost twenty-three!”
Taking pity on him, Burke tried steering her attention away from Dean. “Ms. Clarke, Payten has only been at Dean’s house four days. For most of it, they’ve had an officer at the house with them,” he lied. “We’re taking Payten’s safety very seriously.”
Ms. Clarke snorted. “You would think leaving Payten at her parents’ house would be enough to keep her from getting pregnant.”
“She’s not pregnant!” Dean exclaimed.
“We’re not protecting her from Dean, ma’am,” Burke explained through clenched teeth. “There is a very real threat to Payten’s safety. The person who broke into Payten’s house appears to be stalking her.”
“Oh.”
Ms. Clarke appeared to think the information over for a minute. Or perhaps she decided she wasn’t going to be able to pump any more out of the men. Either way, she waved to another person coming in the door. Dismissing the men in search of more gossip, she couldn’t resist a parting shot.
“You would think four men would be enough to protect one woman in a room this size. A man at the back door too? Isn’t that a bit much?”
The men looked at one another. Before Burke could ask her what she meant, though, Dean leapt from his chair and pushed his way through the folding chairs at a dead run.
• • •
Payten watched silently as the man standing over her flicked the lethal-looking knife open and shut. She knew he was only taunting her at the moment, but that didn’t lessen the fear. As he moved between her and the door, she turned to keep him in sight.
“You made a horrible mistake,” he told her in the same rasp of a voice.
She thought it might be his real voice. After all, he wasn’t wearing a mask. He didn’t seem to care if she knew who he was or not. Not that a bad buzz cut and an ordinary face were particularly helpful when trying to identify someone, but he didn’t even try hiding.