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The rideto Payton’s apartment passes quickly, in silence.
I’m not sure if she’s quiet because of what I said, or from the discomfort of sitting with our combined cum clinging to her skin.
I shift in my seat, wishing that I hadn’t put my jacket on the seat, craving the mark of her when she’s not with me.
But I suppose if I’d let her leak all over my seat, I’d never let anyone else sit in my car ever again.
“Um.” Payton raises her hand, finger pointing toward her building’s front door as I drive past it.
“I know where you live, Baby.”
“Yeah, but…” she doesn’t finish the sentence, the implication obvious as we pass several empty parking spots.
“I’m not parking right in front of where you live. That’d be like painting a bullseye.” I can feel her gaze on me, more questions hovering in the air between us. “Inside,” I tell her.
Payton doesn’t say more, and I find a parking spot two blocks down.
If I were a gentleman, I’d’ve dropped her off at the door, but I’m not letting her out of my sight. Not giving her a chance to run.
Not that she’d get far.
“Wait for me,” I say, turning the car off.
She waits as I circle around the car and open her door for her. There’s no one around, as far as I can tell, but I haven’t forgotten the flash of thigh I saw when she climbed out of that Uber earlier, and I’ll be damned if I chance anyone getting a peek when she’s bare under that skirt.
Payton places her soft hand in mine and lets me help her out.
Leaving the suit coat behind, I twine our fingers together again, and we walk the empty sidewalk back to her place.
“Almost feels like I should make you climb in through the balcony,” she teases as we pass her unit, heading to the front steps.
“Cute.”
Payton tips her head up to me and I nearly stumble.
The smile on her face is the most genuine one I’ve ever seen on her. And there’s something so heartbreaking about that.
Probably because I’ve spent hours looking at her face, while she’s at home or work, and this is the first time she’s ever looked truly happy. And it makes me crave more.
More of her.
More of her smiles.
More of her happiness.
More of her everything.
Iwant to be the one to make her feel that way.
Whatever expression I’m making causes the smile to slip off her face. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” My voice is husky, but I act like it isn’t.
Her fingers tighten around mine like she’s trying to comfort me.
And for the second time in a matter of heartbeats, she tilts me off my axis.
Is she trying to comfort me?
