A hiss of pain exhales from my mouth but I’d rather my fingers than our bodies. A few more rolls and we come to a halt, our clothes matted with snow, breath coming out in short, sharp gasps.
I roll onto my back, star fishing into the snow and Peyton follows suit. We both stare up at the sky, her head on my arm, her arm spread across my chest.
“Are you okay?” I finally manage, tipping my head to look down at where she is laying.
“Fletcher?” Her voice is tight, filled with emotion.
I instantly push onto my elbow, looking down at her furrowed brows, her eyes, pleading with mine. “Where does it hurt, baby?”
Her eyes search my face, her lips part as her hair spreads out against the snow.
“Baby,” I plead, “What is it?”
“Kiss me. Kiss me, Fletcher, and don’t ever stop.”
Twenty-seven
We make it back before the guys and use the time to our advantage, piling into her bedroom at the end of the hall. Her hands tug at my hair as my hands, my fingers just a little numb from the cold fumble with the zipper of her coat. The kiss in the snow became increasingly hotter, hot enough to melt the white stuff all around us and the tent I was sporting in my pants had my head losing all logic.
I wanted her more than I needed air.
She made me lose every sense I owned. Every inhibition, worry, lingering doubt, it was gone when her lips were on mine, when her body was pressed to me.
I shuck her jacket from her petite frame, the material making a soft thud on the hard wood floor. I lost my jacket somewhere between here and the front door and now her hands were working their way under my top, fingertips brushing against my abdominals. The muscles jump under her touch, anticipating, eager to feel her.
“Fletcher,” she moans as my mouth works its way down the column of her delicate throat, the skin feverish under my tongue.
“Shower,” I growl.
Her eyes meet mine, both eager and nervous.
I push her towards the en suite, tugging at the hem of her tee, my fingers brushing at the flat plain of her stomach, up her ribs until I find the curve of her delectable breasts. Her bra is of the sports variety but it has a zip at the front, one in which I find and release easily, freeing her nipples. They peak to the cold air of the room and I take advantage, sucking one into my mouth.
How had I gone this long, this fucking long without tasting her. She’s as good as she smells, fruity and addictive, her taste making my mouth water for another helping. I move to the other breast, my hand squeezing the mound as her back arches.
We’ve made it to the bathroom and I find the counter where I press her into it, her legs opening for me to step into.
“You’re too good, too fucking good,” I tell her, “I can’t get enough.”
“Yes,” she hisses as I find the waistband of her trousers, tugging them down.
Without stopping the kisses on her skin, I reach over and turn the knob for the shower, the water instantly shooting from the head, warming the room with thick fog.
“Take it off,” I demand.
She does as she is told, stepping from my arms as she frees her arms from the bra and then tugs the trousers down her legs, followed by her panties until she is bare to me. Her naked body is a temple I need to worship. I want to sink to my knees and pray she never leaves.
She is everything.
Her eyes darken as she watches me strip from the rest of my clothes, the tee and trousers going first, followed by my boxer shorts, freeing my very eager cock.
It should be weird, our naked bodies on show to one and other, but I feel liberated. Especially with the way her eyes eat me up, starting from my shoulders, down over my chest, my abs, the V that carves a path to my cock and then lower to my thighs.
I worked hard on my body to keep it in shape. Being an athlete, one that is pounded every other day on the field, I have to keep in shape but even so, if it meant having her looking at me like that, I’d work out morning, noon and night even if I wasn’t on the field.
I guide her, my hands on her waist towards the shower, helping her step in with me following. The steamy water warms the rest of me chilled from the snow and I push the dark hair from her face, watching the strands darken even more as they get wet. My eyes follow the water droplets that run over her skin, following every curve, line and dip in her fine body.
My hand smooths down the valley of her breasts, all the way down until my hand slips between her thighs and her folds yield under my fingertips.
She sucks in a breath, her lids falling closed.
“Look at me,” I demand, “I want to see you.”
Her lids ping open as one finger slides inside, my thumb brushing over her clit, making her moan.
She begins to grind against my hand, her back hitting the tiled wall.
It’s so fucking sexy watching her ride my hand, her hips rolling, tracing a figure of eight as she seeks her release.
My other hand grips my shaft, the water making it slick, lubricating it as I slide up and down, the pleasure making my hips surge forward in search of her.
I need her.
I spin her in the shower, my hand still on her mound, my fingers playing her like a well learned instrument and enter her slow, her sex clenching around my cock as if embracing.
I give myself a minute, sighing at the feel of her around me, a sense of being right where I belong settling deep in my bones.
Eventually though, my girl becomes impatient, her ass moving forward and then back, riding my cock and my own needs take control.
With one hand playing with her clit, my hips pulse, in, out, in, out, my back straightening at how tightly she fits around me.
Her ass presses into me, her moans echoing in the bathroom.
I find my release at the same time she does, my bellow reverberating from the tiles.
We stand for what feels like hours beneath the hot spray, my cock still buried in her body. I have to pull out eventually but like hell I’m not touching her. My hands smooth over her body, the body wash I squirted into my palms sliding over her skin.
The front door suddenly slams.
We both still.
“Shit,” I hiss.
“Shh,” she presses a finger to my lips.
“Peyton!?” Colt yells, “Fletcher?!”
“I’m just showering,” Peyton calls back, “Be out in a minute!”
Her eyes lock with mine.
A message is conveyed.
They cannot know.
“Where’s Fletch?”
She swallows, “Sleeping maybe? I don’t know, I came in and headed straight for the shower.”
Her face twists with a wince, the regret about lying instantly recognizable in her expression. Guilt sucks everything from me and I quickly finish off my shower, leaning past her to turn the shower off.
Colt’s footsteps head back down the hall and we both breathe a collective sigh of relief.
I climb out first, wrapping a towel around my waist before holding one out for Peyton to step into.
She won’t meet my eyes. Guilt? Regret?
“I’ll go out first,” she tells me, “You wait in here whilst I distract them long enough for you to sneak back to your room.”
“Peyton,” I start.
“Don’t,” she snaps, leaving me in the room alone.
I hear her tugging drawers open in search of clothes. I watch her through a crack in the door. She’s focused on the task of dressing, furiously tugging her fine legs into a pair of grey sweats followed by a tight cami that shows the curve of her breasts and outline of her nipples. My cock hardens at the sight, my teeth biting into my lip.
She looks towards the bathroom but I flinch back, hiding myself from view and with a sigh, she steps from the room, leaving me alone.
“Hey guys,” her voice is chirpy but I hear the edge. I know my girl. Despite the length of time we’ve spent apart I still know her. “Enjoy the slopes?”
“Yo
u ditched?” Decker accuses.
“Yeah sorry, I got hurt, Fletch wanted to bring me back to make sure I was good.”
“Are you?” Colt demands suddenly, “Good? Where did you hurt?”
“Just my shoulder,” she lies, “We’re good. Nothing a hot shower couldn’t fix. How about some food? I was thinking about grilling some steaks tonight?”
A loud groan.
Her distraction, food. Easy with the guys.
I hear them moving through the cabin, the back door opening and closing and then I slip out her room, creeping down the hall back to my own room.
My stomach twists and turns. Peyton looked so hurt.
But the guys, they can’t know. They wouldn’t understand.
I dress quickly, drying my hair as much as I can with a towel, trying to disguise the fact that I had also recently showered.
The smell of meat grilling has my stomach growling in appreciation.
A clink of bottles, loud laughter.
I need to get out there. Find out what the hell is going on if only this fucking thick mane of hair would dry.
In the end I dig out the hair dryer I know my mom keeps up here, plugging it in to the wall and staring at the buttons. Why are there so many? I mean can there not just be an on off switch like normal appliances.
I hit one button and the thing whizzes to life, blasting out cold air, I hit the other button and the air turns hot. I wave it around my head a few times, running my fingers through my hair, trying to get it to dry quicker.
Finally, when it doesn’t look like I’ve recently showered, I step from the room, following the smell of food out onto the back porch. A fire is going in the pit, illuminating the area in an orange flickering glow and Decker is flipping steaks on the grill whilst Peyton places plates and sides on the table in front of the fire. She looks up to me but barely keeps my gaze, her eyes turning downward to examine her task at hand.
I’d upset her.
“Hey,” I greet, settling my large frame into one of the wicker chairs.
Deck looks over his shoulder, giving me a chin nod and Colt smiles but Peyton doesn’t even look at me.
Shit.
I fucked up.
How do I make it up to her?
I don’t want the guys knowing. They won’t understand. They’ll judge. I’ll lose them if they knew I’d betrayed Tyler this way. How to make her understand without losing her completely?
Twenty-eight
It’s a little past midnight when I decide to call it a night, the fire is still burning hot in the pit, the flames smaller than what they were earlier but no less warm. The logs glow in the darkness, crackling loudly in the quiet. Colt tips his beer back before saying good night and Deck gives me a one armed hug from his perch next to the fire, the other one stoking the flames.
I don’t bother trying with Fletcher, he clearly doesn’t want anyone knowing about us. I try to tell myself that that’s fine, it’s up to him but I can’t help but feel a little ashamed.
I carry my body down the hall, unaware until this very moment just how tired I am. The lack of sleep last night and then the activities of the day have caught up with me, making my lids heavy and limbs sluggish.
I slip into my room, strip from my clothes and climb into bed, not bothering with pyjamas. I’m too tired for that.
I sink into the downy pillows, pulling the blankets up to my chin and I’m just about to fall asleep, I’m right there on the brink of sleep when I hear my door click open and quietly close behind whoever it is that has just entered.
Pushing a lid open I watch the silhouette move through the room, he begins to strip from his clothes, first his top half and then his bottom, the denim rustling loudly. The mattress dips and a hand tentatively brushes down the side of my face. In the dark he must not realize I’m awake, staring at him through one eye.
Without meaning to, I lean into his hand, reveling in the rough skin of his palm and fingers, the tender way he whispers his fingers over my skin.
“Hi,” his voice is barely there.
“Hi,” I whisper.
“Is this okay?”
I nod against his hand.
Slowly, he pulls back the sheets and lies down next to me, pulling my body into his until my head is resting on that soft spot between his shoulder and neck. His skin is warm under my face, his breathing steady and even.
“You’re not wearing clothes,” he growls under his breath as a finger trails down my naked spine.
“I didn’t realise I’d have company.”
He spreads his hand at the small of my back, his fingers seemingly reaching from one side to the other as he pushes me further into his body, eliminating any space between us.
“You seemed upset.”
“Just tired,” I lie.
His hand pauses tickling for a moment, “You’re lying.”
“I am tired, Fletch.”
“But you’re upset?”
“Let’s not talk about it, okay? I just want to sleep.”
“We’re going to talk about it, Peyton. Whatever it is.”
“Not tonight.”
He presses his lips to my hair, staying there as he inhales deeply, “Sleep baby.”
I do just that, sinking into the feel of his body so close to mine, his arm wrapped protectively, snuggly around my body. My hand rests on his steel abdominals, his chest rising with every breath and that helps me off to sleep more than anything I’ve ever experienced.
_
I wake in the morning to an empty bed. It’s cold on Fletcher’s side telling me he’s been out of it for quite some time. The cabin is silent other than the sound of the boiler kicking on, the hot water streaming through the pipes.
I can’t say I’m surprised he isn’t here. This is a secret. He could hardly explain it to the guys why he was sleeping in the same bedroom as me.
I dress in a pair of grey sweats and a HGU hoodie, pulling my long hair into a messy bun on top of my head before I head out to the living room. Everyone is still in their rooms, I can even hear Deck’s snoring through the walls and I take the time for myself. I quickly make a fresh coffee, grab the thick tartan blanket from the couch and head out to the deck where we sat and ate dinner next to the fire last night. It’s brisk and I suck in a breath as the cold hits me, seeping its way through my clothes. I quickly make it over to the chairs, curl up and wrap the blanket around, curling my hands around my steaming cup of coffee.
It’s so beautiful here, a winter wonderland. It looks like a fresh layer of snow fell overnight, the footprints and tire tracks that were there yesterday covered. The morning sun glints off the crystals and a gentle breeze shakes the snow from the branches of the trees that stand sentinel at the edges of the property.
I take a sip of coffee and sigh, sinking into the bliss.
It’s crazy how quick life travels, you don’t even realise it until you have a moment of peace, when there is nothing happening around you, when everything you needed to do is done and there’s nothing outstanding, no essays to write or pieces to draw, no friends to meet up with or calls to make. But it’s also in times like this you wonder just what have you done with your time?
I mean, sure, I’m studying to get my degree in Graphic design so I can launch my graphic business come college graduation, but it’s been three years since I started, and I haven’t done anything. I haven’t taken any trips, other than this one right now, done nothing spectacular, made new memories that I can look back on in twenty years time and say, wow, what a day!
I should realize, having first hand knowledge just how short life is. One minute you’re here, the next you’re gone. Gone. Like you never even existed and what will I have to show for it?
A piece of paper saying I passed my classes and a couple of sketch books with my drawings.
I don’t want to live my life like that. In the slow lane. At the edges. I need to take the bull by its horns, hop on and ride the fucker until it kicks me off.
I
sink into the chair a little more, cradling the warmth of my drink to my chest.
Sure. I want to do all of that but there’s something I want more. Something I’ve wanted since I realized what love is. I want what is in that cabin, probably sleeping in his bed. I want to be at his side, holding his hand, kissing him, laughing with him but I really don’t see how I can have that if he can’t even admit to our friends what we are.
We aren’t even anything. One night and a steamy shower sex session doesn’t equate to anything and maybe I’m just a winter break fuck to him.
Who knows?
I doubted it though. People who are just sleeping with you don’t hold you to them whilst you fall asleep, they don’t kiss your hair and inhale your scent like it’s the only thing keeping them alive and they certainly don’t look at you the way he looks at me.
So what is this?
What are we?
I’m alone for another twenty minutes and then I hear the guys getting up, their voices loud, shattering the peace. I hear Colt first, his groans for coffee and then Decker, ever the enthusiastic one of the group, not even a morning could get him down. He bounces around the room and I laugh as I watch the two of them in the kitchen through the window. Colt perches on a stool, his head resting on his folded arms on the counter whilst Deck makes coffee, singing a song – badly – and dancing even though no music is playing.
Another body enters the room and unable to stop them, my eyes move to Fletcher. He’s wearing a pair of grey shorts, the HGU lettering down the side in white and a hoodie to match mine but his feet are bare. He pads through the kitchen, snags the coffee pot and pours himself a cup, drinking it immediately without his usual one sugar.
I wonder what time he actually left my room to go back to his own. Either way, sleeping in his arms was amazing, the best sleep I’ve ever had.
“Yo, sleeping beauty,” I hear Decker call inside, followed by a loud bang like a fist thumping on a door, “Wake up!”
He must think I’m still in my room sleeping so I use it to my advantage, sinking even lower in my chair just to keep this peace for a little while longer.
Fletcher( Boys of HGU #1) Page 14
