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“After seeing that chubby in your shorts yesterday morning, all I could think about was watching your face while I sucked you off.”
“Jesus,” he whispered, and slipped those two thick fingers deep as he plunged in and out of me, the sound of my moisture mixed with his grunts and my moans. It didn’t take me long before pleasure erupted out of me in an explosion of fire and light and heat. My pussy clenched hard around his fingers and my hand instinctively went to his wrist, gripping it to keep me tethered to the ground while I rode out my orgasm. “Rocky,” I whispered as one last aftershock ricocheted through me.
“Fuck, you are beautiful.” He slipped his fingers from my body and straight into his mouth with a moan of appreciation.
“Holy shit,” I moaned at the blatantly erotic move. My pussy pulsed, wet again for another round.
Before either of us could speak again, his phone buzzed on the nightstand. Rocky picked it up and left the room, his powerful naked body the last thing I saw before he slipped from view.
Club business. I knew it wasn’t my business, so I ignored the stab of hurt that he felt he couldn’t speak on the phone in front of me. Then again, it could be a woman for all I knew. That thought was slightly depressing, so I found my clothes and gathered them in my arms before I made my way to the guest room for a pair of pajamas, and then downstairs for coffee.
It was just a one-off, a night of hot sex and nothing more. That’s okay with me, I lied to myself over a steaming cup of black coffee.
Rocky’s heavy booted footsteps descended the stairs and then stopped when he reached the kitchen. “Peyton.” His tone was serious, and I felt unease slither down my spine, wrapping around me to settle low in my belly.
“Rocky,” I shot back as I slowly turned to face him, feeling something off about his tone. The expression on his face told me I wouldn’t like what he had to say next.
“Last night was great. No, it was fucking incredible,” he said, as if those words were all bad, and I frowned. Looked like I wasn’t the only one doing a little thinking this morning.
“But?” I said, when he seemed to hesitate for a moment.
“But it can’t happen again. It’s wrong and I think we both know that.”
My frown deepened. “Excuse me? I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. I’m an adult, and so are you. Unless I’m mistaken, we both wanted what happened between us last night. All night. And this morning.”
He looked away but nodded. “I wanted it too, so fucking bad. I’m not denying that, but it can’t happen again, not when Nolo wants you back.”
I barked out a bitter laugh. “Yeah? Well, no offense to Nolan, but I don’t want him back, a fact I have told him. Repeatedly. It’s my choice who I fuck and who I don’t. Not his. Not yours.”
“You’re right,” he conceded a little too easily. “But Nolo is my son and I love him. I can’t do that to him, so this,” he motioned between us, “can’t happen again. It won’t.” His words were final. His decision was made.
“Oh, yeah?” I huffed, feeling defensive. He didn’t want me, and Nolan gave him the perfect excuse to get out of having to try. Just like my parents hadn’t wanted me bad enough to get their shit together, neither did he. Story of my fucking life. “It’s not like I’m trying to be your wife. Relax. It was just a fuck.”
His lips pursed as if he didn’t like the sound of that, but he didn’t reply. Just gave me a curt nod and left. I shouldn’t have said that, but I was pissed. If he’d just wanted a one-night stand then he should man up and tell me, instead of spouting some shit about his son and loyalty.
I stood in the middle of the kitchen, head spinning as I crashed down from the orgasmic high of the morning. Rocky got what he wanted, and he was done with me and that was fine.
Just fine.
No, it was more than fine. It was what I wanted, anyway.
He wanted distance, I’d give him distance.
Chapter 9
Rocky
Over the past week, Peyton had made herself scarce around the house. She was home alone all day, doing god knows what while I was at the clubhouse. She didn’t call or text, didn’t ask for anything, and made use of what was available to her in the house. When morning coffee rolled around, she didn’t appear like she had at first, with a sweet smile and sexy, rumpled bedhead. Instead, she’d wait until I left the house before emerging from her room. She didn’t even join me for dinner, though there was always food warming in the oven just for me.
She’d taken the distance thing to heart, which should have made me feel better. But it didn’t. I missed her, dammit.
The house suddenly felt too quiet without her husky voice and sultry laughter, and I hated it. I wanted her to come down and talk to me. Smile at me. Laugh with me. I’d only known that version of Peyton for little over twenty-hour hours but already I was addicted.
But I fucked it up. I didn’t want to, but, dammit, I had to do it. If Nolo found out that I’d fucked the woman he thought he was in love with, he would never speak to me again. I wanted her so bad I could still fucking taste her sweet honey on my tongue, but I couldn’t have her.
It was only today after a week of silence that I had enough. I wasn’t needed at the clubhouse, and the truth was Diesel insisted I spend some time with Peyton so she didn’t feel like a prisoner in my home. He’d actually said that as if I was keeping her locked up against her will.
“This is ridiculous.” After morning coffee, I took the steps two at a time and stopped in front of the guestroom and knocked. Peyton was on the other side but there was no indication that she heard me or planned to answer. “Peyton,” I called out, and knocked again.
