Peyton clings to me almost as tightly as I am to her. Breath hitching, she begins to cry openly. Until this weekend, I have never once seen Peyton cry. She’s tough as nails and to see her so upset wrecks me.
“Peyton,” I murmur brokenly into her hair, brushing my lips against her forehead in a tender kiss. I begin to pull away, wanting to give us the opportunity to talk, but her grip tightens, and instead of releasing her, I lift her into my arms bridal style.
The irony isn’t lost on me. The wave of regret that swarms me is the least that I deserve. Under different circumstances, this would’ve been exactly how we would’ve entered our home after our honeymoon. Instead, I’ve swept up my weeping bride because I fucked up.
Taking a seat on her couch, I hold her on my lap, running my palm up and down her back in soothing circles while whispering platitudes that I hope she understands aren’t empty.
Normally, this sort of thing would have me running for the hills, but with Peyton, I want to pull all of her heartache into my own body and spare her every single tear. Finally, she sits up, wiping her eyes and sniffling lightly. She runs her hand over my chest where my shirt is soaked through with her tears. That light touch is enough to have my focus distracted, and my body catches up to the fact that my beautiful, sweet Peyton is in my lap. The soft curve of her ass cradling my cock, and her round breast pressed against my stomach.
“Sorry about that,” she says in a small, shaky voice.
“Don’t you dare be sorry for any of this, Peyton.” I force her eyes to mine with a hand on her cheek. “I understand why you are freaking out. I get it. And I know I should be sorry. I was sober, and you were not, but I’m not sorry.”
I look at her willing her to see the sincerity in my eyes. Begging with her to hear the sincerity in my voice.
“Regardless of how we started, this isn’t a mistake. We went about things back-asswards, but this—right here—is where I have always wanted to end up. Well, with less clothing and zero tears,” I add, drawing a watery smile to her lips.
I run my thumb lightly over her bottom lip. A lip I desperately want to kiss, but don’t dare push her.
“Where do we go from here?” she asks quietly, her head subconsciously leaning into my palm.
“To dinner.”
She looks at me as if what I’ve suggested is the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard. I chuckle, and her eyebrows draw down in consternation.
“Dinner?” she asks skeptically.
“Yes, you know… a date.”
She snorts a laugh. “Seriously? Your answer is a date?”
I shrug, trying to play at a level of nonchalance I am not feeling in the slightest. “It’s a start.”
She hums a little sound of consideration that has my cock jumping to attention again.
“I guess if you were to ask me properly…” she trails off.
“Peyton, would you please accompany me to dinner?” I ask formally, making Peyton scrunch her nose and shake her head.
“I’ll have to check my calendar and get back to you.” I can tell she’s trying to keep a straight face, but she can’t hold back her teasing smirk. Her eyes are dancing with playfulness, showing a bit of the Peyton I know and love.
I lightly dig my fingers into her side, tickling her. She wriggles and tries to escape my hold, but I hold fast, loving her breathless laughter—especially after the heartbreaking tears from earlier.
One smile from Peyton has the ability to light up my entire world. One tear has the power to plunge everything into darkness. I promise myself here and now that I will make it my life’s mission to make Peyton smile every day, no matter the cost.
Peyton squeals and presses her fingers to my stomach, tickling me in return. By the time our little game is over, we are both breathlessly laughing, and I’ve got her pinned beneath me on the couch.
We both freeze in place as we come back to ourselves and realize our positions. Peyton’s eyes dilate and fill with desire. Her hands clutch at my shoulders. I shift slightly, making to release her, but her hands tighten their grip, and she makes a throaty protest.
“Sweetheart, if we don’t leave now, I’m going to kiss you.”
Lust flares in the space between us and I know that’s exactly what she wants—what we both want. She licks her lips, wetting them, preparing them for me. I groan. The sound a mixture of pleasure and torture.
“Peyton, please,” I beg for mercy. I want nothing more than to strip her down and plunge inside her willing heat, but that would be extremely shortsighted. I know she’s attracted to me. I know our bodies fit together perfectly. I need to convince her that everything else fits too. I can’t do that by fucking her.
I run the tip of my nose over hers, then across her cheek to her ear. I breathe in the sweet citrus scent of her hair and rest my weight down on her. Her grip slackens as I nuzzle her, her body becoming pliant and willing underneath me.
“I want you,” she murmurs, wrapping her leg around my hip, lining our bodies up in the most mind-blowing way. She arches into me—dragging her pussy against my hardness. We both moan at the tease.
My mind short-circuits, and I find my hips matching her movements. Grinding our bodies together on her couch like a couple of horny teenagers. Our mouths meet in a frantic dance, tongues dueling for control. We break apart, chests heaving for breath.
“Kingston,” she gasps my name as I roll my hips, bearing down on her, knowing she’s close.
“That’s right, love,” I say, my voice gruff. “Cum for me.”
She nods her head and softly chants ‘Yes’ to the rhythm of my movements. Then her muscles clench, her body stiffening on a scream as her orgasm overtakes her.
Her eyes flutter closed. Her cheeks flushed with a sheen of perspiration. I cup her face between my hands and press tender kisses to her face, paying special attention to her already kiss-swollen lips.
Once her breathing has evened out, I extract myself from her hold—needing to put some distance between us before I find myself buried inside her and completely wreck my resolve to prove to her that I want her for more than just her body.
“What about you?” she asks, confusion marring her lovely features.
“That was just for you,” I say, helping her from the couch. “Would you like to change?”
“Change?”
“Yes. Change… for our date.”
Her lips part in an O and she looks a little taken aback that I’d still be suggesting dinner. Which only strengthens my resolve to keep it in my pants until she understands that I’m in this for the long haul.
She looks down at herself and she cringes when she realizes what she’s wearing. I find it endearing that she obviously wants to look her best for me, but at the same time, I love seeing her just being herself without any pretenses.
“Uhm, yeah, I should go change.”
I laugh a little when she practically runs to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Ten minutes later she comes out wearing a pair of jeans that mold to her curves and a blue shirt that shows just a hint of cleavage. On her feet, a pair of sexy knee-high boots that have a wicked tall heel. I swear I’ve never noticed a woman’s feet as much as I’ve noticed Peyton’s and I’m starting to wonder if I’ve got a foot fetish.
“You look amazing.”
Her eyes light up at my compliment. “Thanks.”
Chapter Ten
Peyton
It’s been almost a month since I ran like the Hounds of Hell were chasing me out of Vegas. Everything with Kingston has been going smoothly. Maybe too smoothly. Kingston is all in with our budding relationship, but I can’t help but wait for the other shoe to drop. The teenaged girl that he stood up and then laughed at afterward still lives inside me.
I’m wary. Okay, terrified is closer to the emotion I feel when it comes to fully opening my heart up to Kingston. My heart says Kingston is sincere. My brain isn’t as easy to convince.
He asked me to try. To let him show me how
good we could be together. These last weeks have been beyond anything I could have anticipated. When I told him that I wanted to take things slow, he easily agreed and has more than proven this thing between us isn’t just lust. That’s definitely there, too, but more than sexual attraction there is genuine affection between us.
Love my heart whispers. Love? I’m not ready to admit that—yet—not even to myself. Even though I know I’m in denial. I’ve loved him for years, but there’s so much hurt piled up that I can’t be anything but cautious.
Kingston lays me on the soft bed and all of my doubts fade away. His hands caress my body—touching everywhere he can reach as if I’m made of spun glass. Lips press sensual kisses along my jaw, each brush of his lips causes my heart to melt a little more.
Kingston finally reaches my lips and he’s so tender it’s overwhelming. I never would’ve guessed he had this sweet side to him.
I fall into the kiss. Returning each press of his lips, granting him entrance when his tongue flicks against my lower lip. My core clenches when his tongue slides along mine. Each swipe is equal parts give and take. He’s giving me everything he’s promised. Showing me with actions not just words how much he wants me and he’s taking my surrender. I’ve been fighting so hard to keep myself shrouded from getting hurt that I’m caught off guard when I realize Kingston is worth the risk.
By the time he pulls away, we are both breathless, and I’m wetter than I’ve ever been. The hard length of his cock presses between my thighs and I can’t help shifting against him restlessly. I whimper when he moves away. The loss of his weight on top of me, the closeness, brings an uncomfortable feeling to my chest.
“Hush beautiful,” he says, settling between my legs.
His wide shoulders spreading me open and his eyes burn with lust. I can imagine mine are equally burning for him. Then his mouth is on me, and all thought is lost. My worries and fears are swept away with each swipe of his tongue. He eats at me like a starving man given his first meal in days.
Chapter Eleven
Kingston
Peyton moves restlessly, pressing herself closer to my mouth then shying away when the pleasure gets to be too much. She’s holding back, and I can’t have that. I need her to let me in. I need her to trust in me. Trust that I’ll be here to catch her when she falls.
Wrapping my arms around her thighs, I grip her hips, holding her in place. I lick her pussy from top to bottom, loving the breathless noises she’s making. I dip my tongue into her entrance, then circle her clit. Her hips buck against my hold, and I know she’s close to the edge. Not wanting this to be over, I slow my ministrations, licking every inch of her slick folds while ignoring her needy little clit.
“Kingston,” she gasps. I can hear the pleading in her tone.
“What do you want?” I ask, licking another slow circle around her clit.
“Lick me.”
“I am licking you.”
I prove my point by stroking the flat of my tongue from bottom to top. When my tongue connects with her clit, her hips punch up into me.
“Here?” I ask, pressing a kiss to that sensitive nub.
“Yes…” she says, squeezing her thighs around my head as if she could hold me in place.
I decide to have mercy on my girl and give her what she craves. I suck her clit between my lips, lashing it with my tongue. She cums on a scream, panting and gasping for breath. Her nails dig into my scalp as she pulls me closer. Soon, she’s pushing me away having become too sensitive. I lick her through another orgasm loving how she cums with my name on her lips.
I slowly kiss my way back up her body, finding her lips I kiss her deeply, sharing her taste with her.
“I’m going to make love to you now,” I say between kisses.
Peyton is still breathless, and I find it sexy as hell that all she can manage is a nod. But her body says everything. Her thighs spread welcoming me between them, and her hands grip my arms tightly as if she’s afraid I’ll stop if she lets go.
Fat chance.
I line my cock up and slowly enter her.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight and wet.”
Each inch I sink into her feels like fucking heaven. By the time I’m balls deep, we are both panting. I force myself not to move because I refuse to come like some adolescent boy. Peyton shifts beneath me, looking for the friction I’m denying us both. I kiss her deeply distracting us both from the raw pleasure of my cock in her warm, willing pussy.
I slowly withdraw, her pussy grips me tightly as if it doesn’t want to give me up. I pause, my cock poised just at her entrance. I rock into her slowly rolling my hips on each down stroke. Her moans egging me on.
“More,” she cries out.
“More what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want.”
I slow my pace even further. Drawing out each movement in exaggerated slow motion.
“Fuck me,” she begs. “Harder. Faster. More.”
I pause, briefly, making her wonder if I’ll continue my slow pace, or give her the hard fucking she wants. After two heartbeats, I thrust forward, pounding my cock into her. I work my hips into a fierce rhythm.
“Like this?” I ask as I take her harder. “Want me to fuck this tight little pussy like I own it?”
I grip her ass, tilting her hips so that I’m hitting her g-spot with every thrust.
“Yes, yes… oh God yes…” she sobs.
“Not God. Say my name.”
“Kingston.”
I crash my lips to hers. Our kiss no longer sweet—this is raw, unadulterated lust. Our teeth clash as our tongues slide together. Peyton’s nails score down my back, and I love each bite of pain because it shows how out of control she is.
Her pussy squeezes me perfectly and I’m moments from losing control, but I refuse to find my pleasure before she gets hers.
My fingers unerringly find her clit, and I pinch it lightly. Her lips are torn from mine as she cries out. My thrusts become erratic as her orgasm rips through her body, squeezing my cock in a satiny death grip. My spine tingles and my balls draw up. I bury myself as deep as I can get and let the pleasure sweep over me.
I give her clit gentle pressure, stretching her orgasm into another.
“Fuck, Peyton,” I groan as I empty myself into her pliant body. My cock throbs with each burst of my cum.
Peyton collapses on my chest, her pussy still clenching around my cock after riding me to a powerful orgasm. I caress her back, luxuriating in the softness of her skin and the pure pleasure of holding her in my arms.
Long minutes pass as we lay quietly. Peyton seems to be a million miles away, even though she’s right here in my arms. She has something on her mind, and she’s trying to work up the courage to talk to me. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Peyton this last month, it’s that she can’t be rushed.
“Kingston, can I ask you a question?” Her voice is barely a whisper as she works up the courage to speak.
I kiss the top of her head and run my hand up her back in a soothing motion. “Baby, you can ask me anything. I’m an open book for you.”
She takes a deep breath, and I know this is her trying to buy herself a little time. Whatever it is she wants to ask must be really important.
“Why did you stand me up?”
Okay, that’s not what I expected. “What do you mean? When did I stand you up?”
She raises up so her chin is resting on my chest, and her eyes bore into mine. “The Sadie Hawkins dance… you told me you’d be my date and then you didn’t show up.” Her eyes flash with an old pain I didn’t even know I’d caused.
“Baby, I never would have stood you up...”
The pain in her eyes is gone in a flash as anger takes over. “You… you… jerk! It took me a week to work up the courage to ask you to be my date, and you said yes. The night of the dance you didn’t show up, and the next day you called me pathetic because I couldn’t find a date.”
Bewildered, I don’t know what to say. Even tho
ugh I was an idiot back then, I would have never passed up a chance to go out with Peyton.
“Pey, I don’t even know what to say.”
“I just want to know why you would do that to me. Was it just a cruel prank? You acted so excited when I asked you…” she chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “I thought that maybe you had a secret crush on me like I had on you.”
I laugh without humor. “I did have a crush on you from the first time I saw you.”
“Then why?”
I have a suspicion about what happened, and I’m embarrassed to admit it. “Honestly, I was probably drunk when you asked. I’m not proud of my behavior from that time in my life. I made a lot of shitty choices. I’m so sorry that I inadvertently hurt you.”
Peyton nods as she takes in my words but doesn’t say anything. Instead, she lays her head back on my chest, shutting me out. I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding when she snuggles in closer to my side. She might not be ready to forgive me but she’s not running either.
Chapter Twelve
Peyton
Whoever said that weddings are the start of happiness, obviously didn’t drunkenly marry their best friend’s brother in Vegas.
“Is that him?” Tammy asks as my phone dings for the hundredth time.
I sigh and push my salad around my plate, my appetite completely gone.
“Yes,” I admit. There’s no point in denying it. Kingston hasn’t let up since he chased me home from Vegas.
“Why are you fighting this so hard?”
That’s the same damned question I’ve asked myself a dozen times a day. The answer is always the same: I don’t know. That’s not entirely true. The truth is, I’m still scared and don’t know how to get over that fear. Despite the fact that Kingston gave me a really shitty excuse for why he stood me up all those years ago, it’s actually much better than if he had done it to be malicious. But…
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