At least to me.
The sound of the people, the music, and even what I could see of my surroundings all became insignificant. Elizabeth told me to always be aware of my surroundings, but at that moment I wasn’t.
And it didn’t matter.
I had tunnel vision, and all I could see was Navarro.
I leaned forward. It was a long shot, but it was worth a try.
He leaned into me, and kissed me lightly on the lips.
“I’m not broken,” I said. “Really.”
He wrapped his hand around the back of my neck, pulled me into him, and kissed me like I had never been kissed.
Ever.
My mind raced. His beard against my face reminded me that he was a real man, and I liked it.
Both of my palms went sweaty and I wiped them on my shirt. Passion filled me from head to toe, and a tingling shot through me, shaking me to my core. Our tongues intertwined and we fought to find the perfect spot for our hands to land, but it seemed to never happen.
While we continued to grope and kiss, Pee Bee’s complaint brought us both back to the reality of the situation.
“Get a fuckin’ room, Crip!”
Our mouths parted. I looked at him.
He looked back at me.
He stood and reached for my hand.
“What?” I asked.
“Come on,” he said.
The party wasn’t over, and I knew he really didn’t want to go anywhere. I loved kissing him, but making out in the shop on the bench would just ruin it for me.
“Where are we going?”
“To my house,” he said. “We need to be laying on something squishy.”
Something squishy.
I like that.
Chapter Thirty-One
Nick
I had sex for one reason, and one reason only. To blow my load. I had never been concerned with a woman’s desires, needs, or thoughts. Now, Peyton’s desires, needs, and thoughts were all I was concerned with.
My hands pressed against the soft skin of her breasts. I waited for rejection, but received none. Carefully, I kneaded her flesh, paying special attention not to be too rough. She wiggled and twisted her body, but I could tell by her moans that she was as pleased as I was.
I lowered my mouth to meet her nipples, kissing them softly with my lips, then following with a few flicks of my tongue. She responded by digging her nails into my back, further proof that so far I had yet to make a mistake.
Perfection wasn’t my goal, nor was it an expectation. I wanted to please her, and the thought of doing so pleased me. It was a first, that was for sure.
Before the barbeque, I had an idea of how I felt about Peyton, but I wasn’t certain what I wanted in the end. When we kissed, something either changed, or I came to a realization. As ridiculous as it seemed to admit afterward, kissing her was all the confirmation my mind needed.
With my body, spirit, and soul released from my mind’s grip, I cautiously worked to satisfy her, hoping to bring her to climax without causing her any mental or physical pain.
I sucked and kissed her breasts repeatedly, grinding my hips against hers with each touch of my lips to her nipples.
Her moaning continued, and fueled by her expressed pleasure, I continued.
Several minutes later, the moaning had all but stopped.
She pressed her elbows into the mattress and lifted her head. “Uhhm. I’m more than a set of nice tits. You know that, right?”
“Huh?”
“You’ve been fucking around with my tits since we started,” she complained. “I told you, I’m not broken.”
Hurting her in any way would crush me. Still harboring the guilt for what happened to her, an extremely cautious advance was all she was going to receive from me. At least for now. “I know,” I said. “But I just don’t want to--”
She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Hurt me?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
She sat up completely. “I’m safe with you. That’s one thing I need to always remind myself of, and I do. I’m safe here.”
I rolled to the side and continued to listen, but paid more attention to admiring her perfect body.
“You’re not going to hurt me,” she said. “We both know it. Ultimately, I’m in control. Me. Not you. Me.”
“Okay.”
“I’m safe, and I’m in control. But guess what?”
I was lost. Completely. “What?”
“I want you to fuck me. And I don’t mean I want you to stick your cock in me and gently work your hips back and forth. If we’re going to do this, I want to be fucked.”
“I just…I don’t want to--”
“Hurt me? Roll over,” she said. “I fucking swear. If a woman want’s something done right, she’s got to do it herself.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Peyton
On his back with his raging cock pointing at the sky, Navarro looked at me with guilt in his eyes. I wrapped my hands around his thick shaft and looked him in the eye. “Watch me. Okay?”
His Adam’s apple rose and then fell. “Okay.”
I worked his cock in and out of my mouth until it was deep in my throat. After the tip caused me to gag a few times, I raised my head and met his gaze.
With wide eyes, he looked back at me.
I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. “See, I’m fine.”
“Uh huh,” he murmured.
I considered sucking his cock for a few more minutes, but I didn’t ponder it for long. The aching in my pussy was more than I could stand. As a result of him sucking my tits into a frenzy and me gratefully gagging on his thick cock, I was more than ready to feel him deep inside of me.
I straddled him and studied his muscled torso. Covered in tattoos and not wearing a shirt, he looked ten times better than he did with one on, that was for sure. I licked my lips at the sight of his chiseled abs.
“Grab my waist,” I said.
He placed his hands against my hips.
“No,” I said with a laugh. I raised his hands to my waist. “Here. My waist.”
I gripped his cock in my hand, hovered over him, and then guided him into me. Although the first attempt didn’t go very deep, feeling him inside of me sucked the air from my lungs. I gulped a breath, raised myself up and then forced him into my drenched pussy again.
And again.
Then, taking his full length, I began to ride his cock like it was the last cock on earth.
I slapped my hands against his chest. “Fuck yes. See? You. Feel. Fucking. Amazing. God, I needed this.”
I thrust my hips back and forth, taking every inch of him in with each downward motion.
“Grab my tits,” I said. “Squeeze ‘em.”
As I continued to fuck him like a woman on some kind of a once-in-a-lifetime sexual mission, he began to squeeze and suck my boobs.
His mood soon changed from the overcautious protector to bad-ass biker, and it was exactly what I needed. While nibbling on my tits, he bit into one of my nipples. Hard. I wailed out from the extreme mixture of pleasure from the pain.
“Ouch!”
His eyes shot wide, and he pulled away.
“Do it again,” I gasped. “Bite me.”
He sank his teeth into my nipples gently and eventually began to bite them. I closed my eyes and continued to fuck him with all I had. As the bed creaked from my frantic thrusts, my breathing became irregular, and I felt somewhat embarrassed.
I was reaching climax, and he wasn’t.
I tried my best to hide my pleasure, hoping to slip an orgasm past him without his knowledge. As my emotions began to mount, I closed my eyes and allowed the orgasm to shoot through me like an electric shock.
I shook from head to toe, and the pace of my strokes slowed considerably.
Exhausted and feeling rather sensitive in the downtown region, I climbed from his cock and bought myself a moment’s time.
I stroked his cock a few times, then began to su
ck it like I was in a timed event, trying to beat the clock. His hips began to lift from the bed slightly, and when I realized it, I raised my mouth from the tip and fought to catch my breath.
“Fuck my mouth.”
“What?”
“Fuck. My. Mouth.”
“Get on your knees.”
I complied. He got off the bed and stood in front of me with his thick cock sticking straight out, he gripped my head in his hands, and began to shove his cock down my throat.
“That’s right, suck that cock,” he growled.
Oh, God yes.
Talk dirty to me.
He forced himself deep into my throat, causing my eyes to water from the force. “I’m going to make you gag on this motherfucker if it’s the last thing I do.”
After a few seconds my eyes began to bulge, and I slapped my hand against his thigh, tapping out.
He pulled himself from my mouth, and immediately after I gasped a breath, he forced himself right back into my throat.
“You’re a good little bitch,” he growled. “Now suck that cock like you know you can.”
He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, forcing the tip of his dick into to the soft flesh in my throat. I reached down and fingered my clit as the shaft of his cock stretched my mouth wide. Nick’s trusting in that I was not broken was bringing me dangerously close to another orgasm, I pulled myself away and fought to catch a breath. As I gasped for air, he lifted me from the floor by my arms.
“Bend over,” he said.
Fuck yes.
I bent over the end of the bed and hiked my ass high in the air. I was soaked and more than ready for whatever he had to offer.
He seized me from behind, slid in with ease, and began to fuck me deeply. In no time, he had my hair in his hand, his muscular chest pressed into my back, and his mouth on my right ear.
“I’m going to fill your tight little pussy with cum,” he breathed.
Oh God.
“Full,” he said.
Please…
My body began to tingle.
I spread my feet wider. His balls began tapping a tune on my clit with each stroke. I bit into my lower lip, prepared for the orgasm of the century, and waited.
A few strokes later, and my eyes went wide. I felt like I was on the verge of coming apart. I wanted to scream for him to stop, fearing something was wrong, but before I had a chance to throw in the towel, I exploded.
“Ohmyfuckinggod!” I stammered. “Ohmyfuckinggod!”
I must have repeated myself half a dozen times as the jolts ran through me like mini-lightning bolts.
His cock swelled, and he pulled my hair taught. “Fuck yes!” he wailed. “Here I come!”
His breath went from grunts against my neck and face to irregular fits of breathing that burst out into the open room.
And he came.
Another orgasm shot through me as I felt him discharge into my cervix. I cried out in pleasure, gripped the comforter tight in my hands, and came close to crying from the pleasure I felt.
Seconds later we had collapsed side-by-side on the bed, our legs dangling over the edge, and our arms draped to the sides.
He turned to the side and gripped my neck in his hand. I sighed and met his gaze as he pulled against my neck, forcing my lips to his. A few kisses later, and he pulled away and looked me in the eye.
“My little bitch,” he said.
Hearing that wouldn’t have made very many women happy, but I wasn’t very many women.
“I sure am.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Nick
I couldn’t claim to have fallen in love before, so identifying what it was I felt and giving it a label wasn’t something I found easy to do. And, to be truthful, with me being a big bad-ass biker, even if I was in love, I probably wouldn’t want to admit it.
But I was able to identify pride.
And I was proud of having Peyton in my life.
I turned the corner and rolled up the street. Not in a million lifetimes would I have guessed I’d be doing what I was doing.
“Why won’t you just tell me?” she asked.
“Because it’s a surprise.”
“I think that’s chicken-shit,” she said.
I released the throttle and coasted down the street. “See the light blue one over there?”
She leaned forward and rested her chin on my shoulder. “The one with the big rock garden?”
“Yep.”
“What about it?”
“Brent Houseman lived there. We were buddies in high school.”
“You used to live around here?”
“Yep.”
“Cool”
The bike slowed to an almost stop, but I had half a block or so to go, so I rolled on a little throttle. “The yellow one over there was where Becky Tharp lived. She was a cheerleader. And, no, I didn’t bang her. She was a bitch.”
“Nice to know,” she said.
As we came closer, I felt nervous, and really, nothing made me nervous. Hell, I had walked into abandoned buildings that were filled with men who were armed and wanted to kill me, and I wasn’t as nervous as I was with her.
“See the white one there on the right?”
“Yep.”
“That’s where I grew up.”
Her grip on my waist tightened, and she leaned forward. “Really?”
“Yep.”
“Until when? When did you move out?”
I shifted into neutral and rolled to a stop in the middle of the street, thirty feet or so from the drive. The exhaust rumbled a low drone as it idled, echoing the sound of our arrival for all to hear.
“When I went to war, pretty much.”
“Oh wow. Where do your parents live now?”
I motioned toward the house. “Still live right there.”
“You’re not. Were you. Is that where we’re going?”
“Yep. If you’re ready, that is.”
“Nick, you shit-head. Really?”
“If you’re ready. If you’re not, tell me now so I can get the fuck out of here before either of them see me.”
“I’m wearing shorts, Chuck’s and a shitty shirt,” she complained.
“You look cute,” I assured her. “Yes, or no?”
“I mean, I want to, but--”
“Yes, or no?”
“I would love to, but I look like--”
I pulled in the clutch, shifted into gear, and released it. As the bike got even with the drive, she slapped my shoulder.
“Yes.”
I got on the brakes, but it was too late. I rolled past and had to turn around in the middle of the street to get into the drive.
We parked, and I shut off the bike. “Ready?”
“Oh boy.” She took off her helmet, brushed the wrinkles from her shirt, and adjusted her ponytail. “Okay.”
I hung my helmet on the bars. “Let’s do it.”
Together we nervously walked up the walk. After stepping on the porch, I rapped my knuckles against the door three times.
“Enter!”
And I opened the door.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Peyton
Nick opened the door and I stepped inside. I hadn’t seen my father since Christmas. After his relocation to North Carolina, the holidays were the only time I saw him or my brothers. I hoped meeting Nick’s mother and father, although traumatic, would provide me comfort.
I stepped to Nick’s side. He rested his left arm on my shoulder, and sighed. “Pop, this is Peyton.”
His father jumped from the chair he was sitting in and held out his right hand. He looked just like Nick, only twenty or so years older. Regardless of his age, I was shocked at the similarities in their appearance. “We shit, Son. You should have warned us. Nice to meet you, Peyton.”
“We were just in the neighborhood,” Nick said. “Thought we’d stop by for a minute.”
I heard some noise in the kitchen, and suspected it was his mo
ther.
“Our son’s here!” his father yelled. “And he brought a surprise.”
I laughed to myself at the fact he yelled at her like she was a mile away, when in fact she was only a few feet away.
“We’ll go in there,” Nick said. “Be right back.”
I followed him to the kitchen. When we stepped in, his mother was at the sink, bent over scrubbing it with a scouring pad.
“Always doing something,” he said. “Turn around, I want you to meet someone.”
She sighed, and turned around.
Oh my God.
I almost fainted. My legs went wobbly. I may have even gasped, but I wasn’t sure. If I did, no one said anything afterward. I fought to stay composed, and although it wasn’t easy, I followed her lead.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” She wiped her hands on her apron. “I’m Elizabeth, Nicholas’ mother. What was your name?”
I swallowed heavily and fought not to cry. “Peyton,” I said. “Peyton Price.”
But she already knew my name. She was the woman who saved me from myself.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Peyton,” she said. “Nicholas, go take off that thing, and come back when it’s gone.”
Nick sighed. “Fine. I’ll hang it on my bike.”
He walked away. I stood there, not knowing what to do or say. She gripped my hand in hers, pulled me to her side, and rinsed the sink. “It’s so nice to have you here.”
She knew everything about me. I’d told her about the incident entirely, about my mother dying, and about all of my quirks, shortcomings, and my strengths. I’d told her about my job, the need to write the article, and about having a man in my life that I wasn’t sure about.
I had, more than anything, simply told her the truth. Knowing that she knew everything about me, I couldn’t help but wonder if she would accept me or reject me as Nick’s significant other.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Do you know how to make chicken marsala?” she asked.
I shook my head. I really didn’t know how to make much. Growing up without a mother, going to college, and having a demanding job left me with little time to learn to cook.
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