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She went up on her tiptoes, sealing her lips over mine, kissing me until she got her fill, nestling her face into my neck.
"Hey, King?" she asked, voice small. It was the voice she always had in bed right before sleep when her guards were down, when tiredness made her open and sweet, sometimes silly. It was her confession voice.
"Yeah, sweetheart?" I asked, squeezing her.
"I love you," she told me, voice barely more than a whisper.
"Yeah?" I asked, feeling a swelling in my chest I couldn't have anticipated.
I knew.
Of course I knew.
But knowing and hearing it were two completely different things.
I didn't expect for the words to have such an impact.
But there was no denying the way my chest tightened, my pulse skipped, my body warmed at her words.
"Yeah," she told me, pressing a kiss to my neck.
"Well, that's convenient. Because I love you too."Kingston - 4 months"How's the new case going?" I asked, watching as Nixon stalked into the office where Savvy and I were waiting for Peyton to show up so we could take all the dogs for a walk.
His response was something like a growl.
"What was that?" I asked, making him turn back, arm raised, pointing at me.
"That fucking woman..." he grumbled before storming off into his office, slamming the door, making me turn to Savea whose lips were pressed together to keep them from curving up into a grin.
"I think it's time we call Mark," she said. "It seems like we have something new to bet on..."Savea - 10 months"I mean it, Peyton," I told her, voice as stern as I could make it.
She was sitting across from me at the coffee shop, a notebook in front of her, tapping a pen shaped like a stocking-clad, high-heeled lady leg on the top page.
"I mean, but how am I supposed to know what would be considered 'freaky'?" she asked. "To some, having sex with the lights on is kinky as hell. To others, getting dressed up as animals, bouncing on giant balloons, then fucking in a giant doggy pile is a totally normal way to spend a Tuesday night."
Sorry, I mouthed to the teen girls sitting at the table to our side, their brows up, lips tipped up in confused amusement.
Peyton had that effect on people.
"Could you talk about furry fucking a little louder?" Jamie asked, coming back from the counter with three coffees, sitting down at the side of the table. "I could hear you at the counter."
"It is a perfectly legitimate kink," Peyton said, shrugging. "I mean, I think it is on par with the pony people, but who are we to judge?"
"And why are we talking about furries and pony play when we are supposed to be talking about Savvs bachelorette party?" Jamie demanded, mixing the caramel and whipped cream into her latte.
"Savvy doesn't want anything, and I quote, 'freaky' to happen," Peyton informed her, rolling her eyes.
"Savvs, honey, I think we both know that - at the bare minimum - you have to expect freaky if you are letting Peyt be in charge here."
"I didn't let her do anything!" I insisted, reaching for my coffee, my gaze going to the ring on the finger on my left hand. It had been months since it was placed there, in our gutted kitchen in our headache of a farmhouse, but somehow, each time my hand moved around, I was surprised to find it settled there. A permanent fixture, something I never took off, a physical representation of the love that had filled my life every day for almost a year.
Maybe the proposal shouldn't have taken me by surprise. Once Kingston knew what he wanted, he was steadfast in his determination to have it, to keep possession of it.
And, well, he wanted me.
That fact still managed to give me belly shivers when I thought about it.
Kingston Rivers, this man who I had this all-consuming girlish crush on for years, from afar, sure nothing would ever come of it, wanted me enough to give me his last name, to plan a future with me.
"I literally just told her when the wedding date is. She took over from there," I insisted, watching Jamie send a smirk to Peyton who was pretending she was not guilty of doing just that.
"Well, who else would be able to throw you a kickass, memorable bridal party?" Peyton asked, brows raising. "Don't worry, I'll wait."
"Just... no male strippers. Or escorts."
"For the record - female strippers and escorts are okay then? And does 'no male strippers' mean only straight male strippers? Are gay male strippers out of the equation?"
"I want to be you when I grow up," one of the teen girls the table over declared, watching Peyton like she was some sort of god.
"Oh, babe, why would you want to do that? Grow up, I mean," Peyton shot back. "I still haven't done that myself. Pro tip," she said as the girls started gathering their things, getting ready to leave. "Always, always use condoms, pay for the good ink, and learn how to diddle your own skittle, so you don't start thinking a guy is the end-all-be-all because he can make you come. Oh, and read some good erotica!" she called across the packed coffee shop, making all heads turn.
