“I got you a gift too,” I tell her.
“Oh, I’m familiar with this present,” she says, laughing as she runs a hand over my cock.
“No,” I chuckle. “It’s in the freezer.”
She lifts her hazel eyes and jumps off me. I groan, grabbing my balls and she grimaces, offering me an apology. But I don’t need her sorrys. I have the girl of my goddamn dreams half dressed in my house and I’m not letting her out of my sight tonight.
She squeals as she sees what I got her. “An ice cream cake from Marcucci’s?”
“Your favorite, salted caramel and dark chocolate.”
She groans, grabbing spoons and carrying the box back to the couch. “And a chocolate cookie crust?”
“Happy bootyversary, Peyton,” I say as she sits cross-legged next to me and gives me a spoon. “Honestly, uh…” I clear my throat as she dives into her cake. “You’ve made this year really special.”
She pauses, resting a hand on mine. “Oh, this is like a speech.”
I nod. “I know we keep things light and I love that - but uh, I’ve told you about growing up in foster care, about not having family. And the thing is, before you, I’ve never had someone to come home to.”
She blinks rapidly, hiding her tears and she sets the cake aside and crawls back into my lap. “Oh, Lance.”
She doesn’t need to say anymore. In that moment, I know she sees me. Gets me. And when she kisses me, I know this is more than a booty call for her too. This is the real fucking thing.
Our mouths collide, the kiss fierce and the heat growing between us. She pulls off her dress, and I massage her perfect tits as she takes hold of my cock, stroking me the way I dreamed about for three damn months.
“Oh, fuck Pey,” I groan as she lifts her creamy ass, sinking down on my needy cock. We’ve done this enough to have memorized one another’s bodies - we know when we’re ready. When to go fast, when to take things slow. And when to let go.
She rocks her hips as I thrust into her sweet pussy, she runs her hand over my close-cropped hair and I roll her over onto the couch, needing to take control of her, this moment. I lean over her, my cock buried nice and deep and she begins to moan, the sensation of being filled consuming her.
“I hate it when you’re gone,” she whispers as I take her to the very edge. She squeezes her eyes shut as if she can’t bear to look at me when she says it.
And that’s okay. I won’t push Peyton away, because the truth is, all I want is her to stay.
But I’m the one who always leaves.
Chapter Four
Peyton
I can lose myself in Lance’s arms. The way they wrap around me protectively, how he holds me close like I’m the most precious thing in the world, it almost makes it worth not seeing him for months at a time.
Almost.
We’re in his bedroom now, and my cheek rests on his chest, my fingers running up his ladder of abs. It’s not just his body I need, it’s all of him. And that thought has fear building in my chest.
I don’t want to lose him, but no matter how I look at it, I know I will one way or the other. Either by pushing him away or because of his job. Once a SEAL always a SEAL. It’s my father’s motto. Even now at fifty-six, he’s still running missions, and my mom is still alone, worrying for him when he’s gone.
“I should go,” I say, starting to push away, but his arm tightens around me.
“Stay,” he says against the top of my head.
God, I want to.
He places a finger under my chin and lifts my face so that I’m forced to meet his intense gaze. “Stay with me, Peyton. Not just tonight. But for—”
“Lance.” I shake my head and sit up. “Don’t.”
“Why?” He sits up too, his back against the headboard. “What are you so afraid of?”
You.
This.
Us.
Everything.
“I’m not afraid of anything,” I tell him. “You knew when we started this that it was just sex.”
“And if I want more?”
Frustration and fear twist inside of me. “What we have is good. Why do you want to wreck it?”
“Because I’m not satisfied with just a booty call.” His own frustration is clear in his voice.
I grab my clothes and start to dress. “You’re gone most of the time anyway. Do you really think you can offer anything else?”
“I get that my job isn’t ideal for a relationship, but that doesn’t mean we can’t—”
“Yeah, actually it does mean that.” I close my eyes briefly and try to steady my breathing. “When do you leave again?”
He hesitates before saying, “Monday.”
“Right.” Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them away. God, he isn’t even home for a whole week this time.
He takes my hand. “Stay tonight. We don’t have to talk about this now.”
I want to. Every part of me craves to crawl back into bed with him, to let those massive arms wrap around me, to take away my fears. But even if I do, come Monday, I’ll be sleeping in my bed all alone again.
So instead, I leave.
Because I need more than a booty call. I need a man who will be here, through thick and thin. I need a man who isn’t like my father.
Chapter Five
Lance
I call my buddy Andre before I repack my bags, and we make plans to meet for breakfast. Sliding into the bench at a local diner, he asks how I’ve been.
“Been better.” I rub the palms of my hands against my eyes, then drag my fingers over my face.
Andre laughs. “Yeah, I was gonna say. You look like shit.”
“Thanks,” I chuckle, appreciating the bluntness only an old friend can offer.
The waitress brings us coffee and takes our order, all the while batting her eyes and flirting shamelessly with Andre. “Does anyone ever tell you that you look just like Jesse Grace? The actor?”
Andre laughs, “Yeah, a few times.”
She walks away winking and I laugh.
“Damn, some things never change.”
Andre shrugs. “What about you, man? Anything new?”
I shake my head. “No, same shit. I’m only home for two days and it wasn’t even supposed to happen. I had to request special leave from my commander.”
“So you’re still on his good side?”
I’ve told Andre over the last few years how getting into Commander Miller’s good graces was a major goal of mine. Miller is a hard-ass with a solid reputation. I never had a father - but hell, I look up to him as if he were. He’s the kind of man who doesn’t take bullshit from anyone, yet still manages to hold everyone’s respect.
“Yeah, I think it’s all these extra recon missions I volunteer for,” I tell him.
The waitress brings our food and refills our coffee. Andre thanks her and she blushes. I roll my eyes.
“So you don’t have to be gone so much?” he asks.
I shrug. “It’s a double-edged sword. If I go, I earn the respect of the team. If I stay...” I’ll have more time with Peyton.
“You still seeing that girl?” he asks as if reading my mind.
I nod. “Yeah. But I think I ruined it. Saw her the other day and it was going great until she found out I was leaving right away again. She left my place in tears, and I get it, I do.”
“But being a SEAL is your life,” he says knowingly.
I nod, drinking my coffee. “Shit, that got heavy. What about you?”
He shrugs. “Nothing is new with me. Working at the fire station, taking on extra shifts so I can buy a house. Though I did meet a girl the other day.”
“Yeah?” I laugh. “Maybe by the time I get back home, you’ll have nailed things down.”
“You never know,” Andre says. “Life can change in the blink of an eye.”
The words seem ominous, but then Andre starts talking about the house he is looking at and we move on.
In the parking lot, we say goo
dbye. “Hey,” Andre says. “Before you leave again, tell the girl how you feel.”
“I don’t want to overwhelm her.”
“I get you, but Lance, you’ll never get what you want if you don’t fight for it.”
I consider his words as I drive toward the airport. Peyton left my house without looking back. And in the moment, I didn’t want to upset her even more, but now with Andre’s words ringing in my ear, I wonder what Commander Miller would do.
There is no doubt he’d fight for what he wanted.
And I won’t give up either.
I take a right and head toward the Hot Wheels Roller Rink.
Do or die, right?
Still, as I get out of my car and walk across the parking lot, I have all those childhood feelings of abandonment rise up inside of me. My own mother didn’t choose me - and when I think about Peyton, the idea of her not choosing me too, fucking slays.
Hot Wheels is as fun and bubbly as Peyton. And so even though I’m anxious about coming here to see her - the moment I step inside the retro rink with all its rainbow murals, oldies but goodies blaring, and posters from iconic 80s films on the walls, I can’t help but smile.
“Hey, can I help you?” a woman asks as she skates past me. She has on a pair of skates and knee-high socks and a big diamond ring on her finger.
“I’m looking for Peyton?”
The woman stops, spins on her skates and grins. “Are you Lance?”
I nod. “Yeah, that’s me.”
She nods, looking me over before sticking out her hand. “I’m Kendall. Peyton’s best friend.”
“The DJ?”
She grins. “The one and only. Follow me, she’s in the back room.” She skates slowly and talks as we head back to the employee lounge. “She said you were cute, but dang, you’re like a regulation hottie.”
I lift my eyebrows in surprise, and she laughs. “Don’t worry about me. I can’t keep my mouth shut, and I guess Pey and I both have a thing for men in uniform.”
“Your husband is in the military?
She shakes her head. “No, he’s a cop. I’m into the whole bondage thing, so the handcuffs really sealed the deal.”
This time I laugh, beginning to figure her out. I can see why she and Peyton get along.
The moment we enter the break room, though, my laughter fades. Peyton is here, she looks up from a pile of receipts, and her eyes widen slightly, filling with emotion.
Kendall slips away, leaving us alone.
“Is this a bad time?” I ask. “I was hoping we could talk.”
“No, I was just going over my food order for the week.” She waves her hands in the air, pulling out a chair for me.
I sit down beside her. “I’m sorry I’m leaving.”
“You have to go, so whatever. It’s life, right? You signed your life away.”
I clench my jaw, hating that phrase. “I didn’t sign anything away, Peyton. Joining the Navy gave me opportunity, freedom I would never have had—”
“I get it. Sorry. It doesn’t matter. You’re leaving and whether or not you want to go isn’t a part of the equation, is it?”
It irritates me how cold she’s being. “This is hard on me too. But I’m choosing this mission because—”
“Wait, you picked this?”
“Well, yeah.” I rub the back of my neck. “It’s important work and I’m the best man for the job. It’s a dangerous mission Peyton, and I—”
“And you could have said no.” She stares at me wide-eyed, and I see the resolution she’s coming to.
Shit. This is not why I came here.
“Yeah, but my career—”
“Right. Your job comes first.” She exhales, not looking at me.
“I was coming to say goodbye, Peyton. I hate leaving with you upset.”
She runs her fingers under her eyes, wiping away tears and it kills me that I made her cry.
I need her to understand.
“The Navy is the only thing that has ever felt like family, I don’t think you get that. Get what this job means to me.”
“I understand enough.” She reaches for my hands and squeezes them. “I care about you, I do. But I can’t make promises to a man who always has one foot out the door.”
“Then let me in,” I tell her, cupping her cheek with my hand. “Let me come inside, be a part of your life for more than a booty call. Let me meet your family, your friends. Give me a chance.”
“The fact that you don’t have to go and choose to leave anyway tells me everything I need to know, Lance.” She pulls back and stands. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore.”
“Can’t do what?”
“This. The booty call. Or, whatever we are. I need a man who is here for good. Day in, and day out. And you can’t give me that. And if I can’t have you one hundred percent, I don’t want you at all.”
I run a hand over my forehead, hating how sure she sounds. But is it clarity or is it fear? Why is she so dead set on protecting her heart from me when I won’t let it break?
“I don’t want to say goodbye,” I tell her.
She steps toward me, kissing me softly on the lips. “But you already did,” she says before walking away and walking out of my life.
Chapter Six
Peyton
Walking away from Lance is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I want to wrap my arms around his neck, to hold him close and tell him not to go. Tell him to choose me. To let me be his family. His forever.
But I can’t ask, and he doesn’t offer. So I walk out of the office, tears in my eyes and my heart breaking with every step I take. He is leaving me for a secret, dangerous mission, willing to risk his life.
I’ve spent my life in fear of my father never coming home. Watching my mother wring her hands, waiting for news. Waiting for an update. For any kind of assurance that he was okay.
“Oh, sweetie.” Kendall wraps her arms around me as I stand watching through the door as Lance’s car leaves the parking lot. I told him to go. This is what I chose. So why does it hurt so damn bad?
“It was just a hook-up, I don’t know why I’m crying,” I say. “It was just...just...” My shoulders shake as I cry against my best friend.
“They call it heartbreak for a reason. It hurts like hell.”
“I hope I made the right decision,” I say, trying to collect myself.
“How long is he gone for?”
I bite my lip. “I have no idea. Could be a month, could be a year.”
“Then I guess you’ll have plenty of time to figure out what you want.”
I wipe my eyes, knowing she’s right. I have to think about what I want.
But deep down, I already know. I want what I can’t have - Lance Easton here, for keeps.
* * *
He’s been gone six weeks. Six weeks and every day, I feel worse than the last. If this is what real break-ups feel like, I’m glad this is my first experience. Every day I wake up sick to my stomach about Lance being so far away, somewhere unknown, his life in danger.
My friends try to make me feel better. Camille plans a night for us at her father’s mansion. She has complete access to the pool house and it’s the perfect set up for a girl’s night. We make nachos, Kendall makes a pitcher of margaritas and we have plans for mud masks and sappy movies later.
“Want one?” Kendall asks, offering me a slushy salted rimmed cup. “I got Patron, your favorite.”
“Fancy!” Mila laughs.
“No thanks,” I reach for a bottle of sparkling water. “Sweets have been bothering me.”
“Maybe you should see a doctor,” Mila suggests. “You’ve been complaining about being sick for weeks.”
I frown. “I’ve just felt a little off, that’s all.”
“You’ve been getting sick every afternoon at four like clockwork,” Mila says.
“I just keep thinking about Lance, about something happening to him and...”
“Um, I don’t think it’s mono,”
Camilla says, pulling a box out of her purse. “Take this.”
I stare at the box she offers me. “You think I’m pregnant?”
My friends all exchange a look that tells me they’ve been discussing this without me. Hence, the pregnancy test in Camilla’s purse.
I shake my head. “I can’t be pregnant.”
“Um. Like, technically, you could be. It’s just kinda biology?”
I stare at the box containing a pregnancy test. I haven’t even considered the possibility. I’ve been so caught up in missing Lance, scared for his life - that being knocked up with his baby hasn’t entered the equation.
“Oh God, I’m gonna be sick,” I say, rushing to the bathroom and leaning over the toilet and losing my dinner. I exhale, trying to catch my breath as Kendall walks in with the box.
“Take this, sweetie. It’s better to know than be left guessing.”
Five minutes later, I’m sitting on the couch of the pool house with my three best friends. We’re all staring at the two pink lines.
“What happens next?” Mila asks. This is new territory for all of us.
I wipe my eyes. “First Kendall gets married last month, and now this...it’s so much change.”
Camilla hands me a mug of peppermint tea. “We’re here for you no matter what.”
I nod, grateful for their unconditional support. “My dad is going to be so disappointed. And my mom...this is going to kill her.”
“I know they’re old school,” Kendall says. “But they love you. So much.”
Facing my parents with Lance by my side would be so much easier. But we’ve never talked about kids. I don’t even know if he wants to be a father. I look down at the test wishing he were here right now so we could talk all this through.
But he isn’t here.
Tears fall down my cheeks. This wasn’t how I thought my life would go.
I press my hands to my belly. Right now, it’s just me and this little jellybean. I’ve been so scared of being with a man who was going to be gone more than half the year. And now I am carrying that man’s child.
Bootyversary: Booty Call Series Page 2