by Julie Cannon
“Remember to watch the ball go into the hole,” Peyton said as Leigh lined up her putt on the thirteenth hole.
Leigh stepped away from the ball and took a few practice swings, trying to get her body to pay attention to what Peyton was saying, not how she looked, how close she was, how good she smelled, or how many times she’d touched her since they started.
The first time was when she lined up on the tee, Peyton stepping in front of her to move her hands into the correct position. Their faces were inches apart, and Leigh swore Peyton’s hands were on hers far longer than necessary. The second time was when Peyton put her hands on Leigh’s hips to show her how they should shift when she hit the ball. Peyton was behind her, her warm breath on her neck. Leigh had no idea what Peyton had said and faked her way through the shot. When they reached the green, Peyton had moved behind her and wrapped her arms around her again, this time showing her how to smoothly stroke the ball into the hole. Their bodies were touching, Peyton’s strong arms engulfing her. Leigh nearly dropped her club.
She froze, afraid that if she moved, Peyton would step away and even more afraid that she wouldn’t. She wanted to lean back into her, feel Peyton’s lips trailing kisses up and down her neck, her breath in her hair. Peyton’s breathing became shallow and fast against her back, and Leigh knew she wasn’t the only one their closeness affected. Desire flared, streaking out to her arms and legs. Leigh’s fingertips tingled with the need to touch her.
Slowly she turned, still in the circle of Peyton’s embrace. The air suddenly became very, very still. Leigh’s body came alive. Every nerve tingled, and her senses shifted into full alertness. Her hands trembled when she cupped Peyton’s face. Her skin was soft, her jaw strong, her eyes burning with desire.
Leigh was already aware that Peyton wouldn’t make the first move. She was her client, and she would never cross that line. If anything was going to happen, Leigh needed to be the one to start it. She might even have to keep it moving if Peyton balked. By the look in Peyton’s eyes, and her shallow breathing, Leigh doubted Peyton would need much convincing. She slid her hand behind Peyton’s head, pulled her close, and kissed her.
Peyton’s lips were soft and warm, almost tentative, but Leigh sensed driving passion barely restrained. Peyton’s desire for her thrilled Leigh, and when she deepened the kiss, Peyton’s lips became demanding.
Leigh moaned when Peyton’s hands started to roam. When they slipped under her T-shirt, she was sure her knees would buckle. Arching into the caress, she instinctively grabbed Peyton’s head, twisting her fingers in the short, dark hair.
Peyton’s fingers ran up and down her side, passing lightly over her stomach and between her breasts. They were full, and her nipples ached to be touched. Leigh gasped in pleasure when Peyton’s thumb brushed over one of them.
Peyton lifted her head, her breathing ragged. She grabbed Leigh’s hand and pulled her to a stand of thick trees not far from the green. She turned Leigh around, pinning her back against the rough surface. Leigh didn’t care. It had been so long since she felt the overwhelming need for a woman like this.
Peyton slid her leg between hers, and Leigh felt the wetness of her own desire. Peyton’s actions were bold, and Leigh almost exploded when Peyton’s hands found their way under her bra and pinched her erect nipples. One of Peyton’s hands drifted down her stomach and slid under the waistband and into her in one fluid motion. The familiar burn started low in her belly and exploded before Leigh knew what was happening. Never before had she done something like this, certainly not this fast, and absolutely never where anyone could see her. All she could do was hold on as her orgasm rocked through her.
Leigh had no idea how long it was before her head cleared enough to realize what had just happened and her body to tell her it didn’t care. She was still clinging to Peyton, her arms wrapped around her neck, her breathing ragged.
Peyton, trying to catch her breath, said, “We can’t do this.”
“A little late for that, don’t you think?”
Peyton’s fingers were still in her, and Leigh was far from finished. She was rarely a one-and-done girl, and if she wasn’t careful she’d come again. Just thinking about Peyton’s fingers made her clit twitch.
“We can’t.” Peyton repeated the words as if trying to convince herself.
“Then you’d better get your hand out of my pants.”
Peyton stiffened as if she’d forgotten exactly where her hand was.
Leigh wanted to know what Peyton was thinking at this moment. Was she as affected by their spontaneous coupling as she was? Was her head spinning? Did she crave more? Was she excited, shocked, or scared shitless at how quickly things had escalated? Stunned that they had had sex on a public golf course? Was she reveling in the fact that she was a woman and all the pleasure that came with it? How thrilling it had been that desire overcame reason and she had no control to stop it? Was every nerve alive like never before, ready and needing to be touched again? Was she trying to make sense of what had just happened? To place it in a neat, comfortable place? To rationalize her completely irrational behavior? Did she want to chalk it up to hormones, pheromones, or some other chemical cause? Was she struggling with an event so impersonal yet so intimate? A connection so foreign she was grappling with how to describe it? Did she want to spend hours together discovering each other’s body, their pleasure points, whether a firm hand or a soft caress would elicit a moan of desire or a whisper of need? Did she want to do it again? Forget it ever happened? Did the excitement of pure, raw sex thrill her to the point she lost her mind? Did she want to cast aside everything she knew, everything she thought she wanted to have, burning need fueled with just a glance, a touch, a memory? Did she want her old world back, her neat little everything in its place world, or did she want to jump into the abyss of the pleasure of a few moments ago? Were her knees weak and her brain stopped? Did she want one more kiss, one more touch?
“This can’t happen again.”
Leigh managed to disentangle herself from Peyton with some dignity. Why did she feel crushed? She’d been turned down before, hadn’t been called back or asked to dance again. This wasn’t like they’d been in a relationship she’d thought was going somewhere only to have the rug pulled out from under her. She’d had one-night stands before that had left her fulfilled, energized, relaxed. Then what the hell was her reaction to Peyton’s words?
Chapter Twenty-four
“Son of a bitch.”
Leigh almost ran into Peyton as she dashed through the front door of the club. She’d just come out of the locker room, trying to pull herself together. Peyton was drenched, her clothes clinging to her body, leaving little to the imagination. A few minutes ago, Leigh had heard a thunderous clap, followed by the sound of torrential rain. It was still coming down. The clouds overhead during their lesson had been ominous, and it was obvious they’d made it back inside just in time, even after their little detour on the thirteenth green.
“Peyton, what happened? Are you okay?”
“My truck won’t start,” she said, wiping the rain from her face.
“Here,” Leigh said, handing her a Copperwind monogrammed towel from a neat stack behind the scheduling desk.
“Thanks.” Peyton rubbed the towel over her face and arms before mopping her wet hair.
Leigh couldn’t help but notice how Peyton’s wet clothes accentuated every curve. Her nipples were poking out from her polo shirt, and Leigh’s pulse started to race. Peyton, fully clothed but soaking wet, was almost as sexy as she would have been standing there stark naked. Leigh remembered how good it felt to kiss her, be in her arms, feel her hands on her—hot, demanding fingers in her. She’d done nothing but think about it since it happened, a little less than thirty minutes ago.
“I’ll take you home so you can change.”
“What?” Peyton asked.
“You don’t live far from here. I’ll take you home and you can change into something dry, and I’ll bring you b
ack.” During one of their sessions, Peyton had mentioned that she lived only a few blocks from the club. “You’re shivering,” Leigh said needlessly.
“You don’t need to do that. I can get Marcus to drive me home.”
“I saw him leave a few minutes ago. You probably just missed each other. It’s no trouble, really.”
As Peyton mulled over her offer, Leigh told herself to keep her eyes focused on Peyton’s face and not her chest. Her brain refused to listen. Leigh hadn’t been with anyone for several months, and their explosive encounter had reminded her how much she was missing. Peyton was a hot, desirable woman, no doubt about it. The tension between them hadn’t diminished after their earlier encounter. To the contrary, she wanted more.
“Leigh?”
Leigh felt herself blush at getting caught staring. She grabbed one of the complimentary umbrellas in a stand beside the front door. “Let’s go before it gets any worse.”
It was still raining heavily as they walked across the parking lot, their shoulders and arms brushing as they navigated growing puddles. Leigh opened the passenger door of her car and held the umbrella while Peyton climbed in, then hurried around to the driver’s side. She opened the door, retracted the umbrella, and hopped in all in one motion.
Leigh pushed the ignition button, and the powerful car hummed to life. She was about to turn on the wipers when Peyton laid her hand on her arm. Leigh felt her touch all the way down to her toes.
“Leigh.”
Peyton’s voice was quiet, and Leigh was afraid of what she was going to say. She decided to take the offensive. “It’s not a problem, Peyton. You can’t stand around waiting for a ride soaking wet. You’re freezing. We’ll be back before anyone even knows you’re gone.”
Leigh pulled into the driveway of the house Peyton pointed to and drove toward a two-car garage with a large RV bay to the left and an apartment above the garage. The entire structure looked professionally designed and built, the white trim a tasteful accent to the gray siding. A deck, complete with a white picket railing, spanned the top of two separate garage doors with two large French doors providing access to the deck. The peak of the roof was severe, and for a garage, the overall structure was stunning. Leigh parked in front of the white RV door.
“I’ll just be a minute. Would you like to come in?” The rain had stopped in the few minutes it took to get to Peyton’s place.
By the expression on Peyton’s face, Leigh wasn’t sure if she wanted her to or was just being polite. Suddenly, she had to know more about Peyton. “Sure.”
The door leading to the stairs was on the side, and as they rounded the corner, Peyton said, “It’s not much. My brother and his wife live here.” She used her thumb like a hitchhiker to point to the house on their right.
Not much? This garage is almost nicer than my entire house, Leigh thought.
“Obviously you and your brother are close?” That was a big assumption on Leigh’s part. Just because Peyton lived above his garage didn’t mean they had dinner together every night and watched football on Sundays.
Peyton chuckled. “Yeah. Sometimes too close. He and his wife Olivia are always inviting me for dinner, or she brings me leftovers. Somewhere along the line he’s forgotten I’m the big sister.”
The affection Peyton had for her brother was obvious, and Leigh wondered if her indifferent feelings for her own brother were as evident to everyone. Bruce was twelve years older than her, and she had just started first grade when Bruce went away to college. They’d never been close. After he graduated, he moved to Paris, and she’d seen him only twice in the intervening years.
Peyton unlocked the door, opened it, and stepped to the side, indicating for her to enter first. A skylight overhead provided enough light that the narrow staircase felt much larger than it actually was.
The top of the landing was small, and Peyton reached around her to unlock a second door. Their bodies brushed, and Leigh felt Peyton freeze. Her jaw muscles were tight, the scar on her cheek prominent. Peyton slowly turned her head, their eyes locking. The small area suddenly grew much, much smaller.
Desire flared in Peyton’s eyes and Leigh responded. Her breath stopped somewhere in the middle of her chest, her stomach tumbling somewhere farther south. Peyton’s eyes dropped to her mouth. All Leigh needed to do was step into her arms.
Peyton shook her head and stepped back, what little distance she could, and opened the door. The moment gone, Leigh turned and went inside.
To her right was the bathroom, a small kitchenette with a bar and two stools to her left. In front of her was the living room, light spilling in through a pair of French doors. A recliner covered in a geometric pattern of blues sat to the left of a couch located under a large window, its shutters open. An enormous flat-screen television was mounted on the wall across from the couch. Colorful prints hung on the walls that were painted a pale blue, the trim and crown molding a bright white. Another door to her right probably led into the bedroom. The apartment was warm and inviting and impeccably neat.
“This is not much?” Leigh stepped farther inside, the carpet thick under her feet. “Peyton, this is beautiful.”
“It’s just a place to live,” Peyton said solemnly. “I don’t get too attached to stuff or things. Make yourself at home. I have water in the fridge, so help yourself. I’ll just be a few minutes.”
The entire apartment was probably no more than six hundred square feet yet, with the amount of light that streamed in, felt much larger. Leigh opened the small refrigerator door. A dozen bottles of water were lined up in neat rows on the top shelf, along with a gallon of milk and a container of Greek yogurt. Apples and several oranges sat on the second shelf, with something green in the salad crisper. Assorted bottles of ketchup, mustard, and salad dressing were in the door. Peyton definitely ate better than she did, with two take-out containers and a twelve pack of Michelob Ultra in her fridge.
Leigh heard the shower door close a little too hard, and her legs moved of their own accord toward it. Peyton hadn’t locked the door, and it opened silently. Leigh stepped farther inside, the view in front of her breathtaking.
The shower was small, the clear doors giving Leigh an unobstructed view of Peyton’s nakedness. Her hands pressed against the wall in front of her, and her head was bowed, water cascading over her shoulders, down her back, and gliding over her ass. She looked like a goddess. That was the only word that could even begin to describe how beautiful Peyton looked. Her muscles were tense, as if she was straining against some inner turmoil. Peyton turned her head and their eyes locked.
Leigh unbuttoned her shirt and let it drop to the floor. She unhooked the front closure of her bra, her breasts spilling out. Peyton’s mouth fell open. Dropping her bra on the floor, Leigh toed off her shoes and unbuckled her pants, pulling them and her panties off in one movement.
Peyton’s eyes followed her movements, heating Leigh’s skin as if she were touching her. Desire burned low in Leigh’s belly, anticipation tingling in her veins. She pulled the tie from her hair, slid the shower door open, and stepped in.
Peyton started to say something, and Leigh put her finger over her lips. “We are two consenting adults, and I don’t care. If you do, you better say something now.” Peyton smiled when Leigh didn’t remove her fingers so she could speak, even if she wanted to. Obviously Leigh didn’t want her to.
Peyton reached for her and their lips met, hot and searching, their breath mingling with the steam from the water. Leigh wrapped her arms around Peyton’s neck, pulling her close. Peyton’s kisses became impatient and insistent, and Leigh struggled to keep up with her demands. She needed to be closer to Peyton, inside her, and she raised herself on her toes and leaned into her.
The shower was small, and Peyton easily pinned her back against the smooth, cool surface. She moaned into Peyton’s mouth when her hands started to roam. When they cupped her breasts, she was sure her knees would buckle. When Peyton pinched her nipples, Leigh arched into her, diggi
ng her nails into Peyton’s neck.
It had been a long time since a woman had touched her. Longer still since she’d wanted someone as desperately as she wanted Peyton. Her primal need for Peyton to take her was shocking. Peyton’s hand drifted down her stomach and slid into her. Awash in sensation, she dragged her lips from Peyton’s, gasping for air. Leigh ran her hands up and down Peyton’s back, and Peyton arched into her, nipples hard against her chest.
Leigh cupped her hand behind Peyton’s neck and pulled her down for another kiss. She didn’t know what aroused her more—Peyton’s kisses, the feel of her breasts against hers, or Peyton’s desire for her. She didn’t try to figure it out; she didn’t care.
Peyton pulled her hand away, and Leigh moaned her disappointment. Peyton kissed her neck.
“Not here, not like this, not again,” Peyton said, her voice husky, her breathing shallow.
Putting both hands on her ass, Peyton lifted her, and Leigh wrapped her legs around her waist. She reached behind her, shut off the water, opened the door, and wrapped them both in a large, soft towel.
The distance to Peyton’s bed was mercifully short, and in an instant, Leigh was lying on cool, crisp sheets, Peyton on top of her. Their kisses were feverish, almost frantic in their haste for each other. Leigh’s head lay in the crook of Peyton’s arm as she sucked on first one nipple, then the other. Leigh squirmed as Peyton’s hand wandered across her stomach and over her hip. She wanted Peyton’s fingers on her, in her, and when Peyton finally touched her, Leigh again found it hard to breathe.
Peyton leaned back, looking at Leigh’s body as if memorizing every detail before it was taken away. “You are so beautiful,” she whispered.
Leigh closed her eyes as Peyton stroked her, drowning in sensation.
“Look at me,” Peyton said, her voice demanding.
Leigh’s ears roared and her pulse skyrocketed with desire at the passion reflected in Peyton’s eyes. She felt more beautiful and desired than she had in a long time. Peyton flicked her clit.