On the ride back, while kissing and groping her, he came to his senses. Not only was she drunk, but he was horny as hell. He wanted nothing more than to get her naked and bury himself deep inside of her. That couldn’t happen. Peyton wasn’t one-night-stand material. If they went further than kissing, she would be the one getting hurt in the end and Michael would never forgive himself.
“You walk around looking like hot sex on a stick and you’re tellin’ me you don’t want this? You don’t want me?”
Sex on a stick? What the hell?
Michael stood a few feet from the bed. He walked into the bedroom five minutes ago, after entrusting Peyton to get herself undressed. Since then, he maintained his distance like a little punk, afraid of getting too close. This was his way of keeping himself from doing what he really wanted to do – taste her again. But this time he wanted all of her, not just her mouth.
That was the problem. When he practically carried her out of the club, after telling her family they were leaving, he had every intention of having sex with her. He couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t take advantage of her, at least that’s what he kept telling himself.
Peyton lifted the sleep shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor, her gaze steady on him as she laid back against the pillows. Full, suckable breasts hung free and Michael cursed under his breath. He’d picked a lousy ass time to be gallant.
“Are you sure you don’t want this?” She slid her hands painstakingly slow over her chest, cupping and squeezing her breasts.
Michael’s mouth watered, his fingers itched to touch her, and his shaft throbbed with need. “Peyton…”
She ignored him. Her eyes drifted closed and the lower part of her body, covered by the thin sheet, moved in tuned to her moans ricocheting around the room.
Lust groped through Michael’s veins, shooting blood straight to his penis, but he stayed rooted in place. Who the hell was this woman? No way was she the same stiff-necked person that kicked him out of her airplane seat only days ago. Clearly, all of her damn inhibitions had been drowned out by whatever the hell she’d been drinking.
Peyton’s tongue slithered out of her mouth and did a leisurely glide across her bottom lip as she teased and pinched her pert nipples.
“Shit.” If her intent was to drive him insane, damn if it wasn’t working.
Michael glanced away. His heart raced like a speeding bullet, charging toward its target. Hard as granite and getting harder by the minute, he took several cleansing breaths and adjusted himself, uncomfortable with the way he throbbed behind his pant zipper.
Time to put an end to this madness.
Peyton’s hands were still caressing her breasts when he dropped down on the edge of the bed. Surprise flickered in her eyes as he pulled the sheet up over her tempting breasts. That was probably one of the hardest things he’d had to do in a long time. But there was something he couldn’t resist.
He lowered his head and kissed her hard, unable to help himself. Liquor, mixed with her sweetness bombarded his senses, sending desire hurling through his body. He wanted her. God knows he needed her, but not now. Not like this.
With strength he didn’t know he possessed, he pulled away. Still breathing hard, he stared down into Peyton’s sleepy eyes and sighed.
“I have too much respect for you to have a one-night stand,” he said after several long seconds.
“Your respect is not what I need right now,” she countered.
For a person who’d had too much to drink, she was certainly thinking clearly…or maybe she wasn’t. He hadn’t known her long, but he knew enough to know that if they went through with this, she would regret it in the morning. That’s not how he wanted to be remembered.
“Will you at least sleep with me? Just sleep.” She patted the bed next to her.
“Boss Lady, you’re killing me.” Even the strongest man had his weaknesses, and she was quickly becoming one of his.
“Just for a little while. Until I fall asleep.”
He groaned and stood, walking around to the other side of bed. He kicked off his shoes and started to climb in, but she stopped him.
“Lose the clothes.”
His brows dipped, and he stared at her. “Exactly how many drinks did you have? Because I remember a time when I’ve had three or four drinks and could barely remember my name. Yet you—”
“I’m different. You said so yourself.” She lay on her side, snuggling more into her pillow. She would be asleep within minutes. “Come on, Mike. We’ll just sleep. I promise I won’t try anything.”
Michael shook his head and laughed. She said the words with a straight face, which only made the whole situation funnier. He could remember using the same line a time or two himself.
He picked up her sleep shirt and handed it to her. “Put that on.” She stared at the garment without moving. “Put it on or no deal.” There was no way he could lay next to her with her breasts on full display without touching them. One touch would lead to so much more.
Once she had the shirt on, Michael stripped down to his boxer briefs and climbed in under the cover. She moved closer to him, her hands in a prayer-like position under her cheek.
Unable to resist touching her, Michael pushed a lock of hair that was starting to curl, behind her ear. Sweetness. That’s what he thought of as the back of his hand glided down her smooth cheek, reveling in her silky skin. She closed her eyes and released a soft sigh. Minutes later, a whisper of a snore could be heard.
Michael studied her serene face, her natural beauty shining through. How her idiot of an ex-husband could have someone as sweet as her, and then turn around and cheat was a mystery to him. Peyton was special. Michael figured that out in only a few days. If he ever decided to try a serious relationship with a woman, he’d want it to be with someone like her.
Michael moved his hand away, turned and clicked off the lamp. Moonlight shone through the bedroom’s screened patio door as he stared up at the ceiling. Waves crashed around outside, the sound soothing his tired body. Maybe now he could finally get some sleep.
Awhile later, Peyton groaned next to him, and he turned just as she clutched her stomach and groaned again.
Oh no.
He shot up. “Peyton? Peyton.” He shook her fully awake, thinking she was about to be sick.
“I don’t feel good,” she whined, pain distorting her features. She gagged, and her hand flew to her mouth.
Without a word, Michael practically dragged her to the bathroom. The moment he positioned her near the toilet, she heaved, gripping the toilet bowl.
“That was close.” He turned to the sink while she emptied the contents of her stomach, groaning with every gag. Wetting a washcloth, Michael glanced over his shoulder when he no longer heard her. “Feeling better?” He flushed and stooped in front of where she sat on the floor, her back against the wall.
“No.”
He smiled and wiped her face and mouth.
“You might feel worse before you feel better,” he said rinsing the towel in the sink before sitting on the floor next to her. He handed her the towel, and she wiped her hands.
Her sleep shirt rode up her thigh, and Michael’s gaze took in her smooth legs. Wicked thoughts shot through his mind.
Michael shook his head, chastising himself for thinking how much he wanted to feel those legs wrapped around him. He dropped his head back against the cool tile and closed his eyes.
“Is this why you don’t drink?” Peyton’s quiet voice infiltrated Michael’s thoughts. He had admitted to her that first night in Jamaica, when they’d had dinner together, that he didn’t drink.
He opened his eyes. “Part of the reason.” He had gotten himself into so much shit the last time he had a drink. He vowed then - never again. “My biological father was an alcoholic,” he added as another reason he stopped drinking. Growing up, he knew alcohol contributed to some of his father’s issues. That didn’t stop Michael from having his first drink at sixteen. He wasn’t an alcoholic, bu
t he knew first hand that drinking too much could easily alter one’s judgment.
“Are you ready to get back in bed?”
“I think so, but I need to rinse my mouth.” Peyton stood on wobbly legs, using the wall to help keep her steady.
Michael tossed the towel onto the granite vanity and wrapped his arm loosely around her waist. He helped her to the counter, pouring some mouthwash in one of the paper cups.
When she finished freshening up, she released a long drawn out sigh but didn’t move.
“Are you done?” He nudged her when it looked as if she had fallen asleep standing.
“Yes.” She still didn’t move.
“Here, let me help you.” This all felt a little too real, Michael thought as he carried Peyton back to bed and climbed in next to her. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead. “Get some sleep.”
Drifting off to sleep, he imagined what it would be like to hold her every night, in his bed.
Chapter Eight
The next morning, Peyton flopped onto her back and slowly opened her eyes. She ran her tongue around in her mouth, trying to break up the feel of cotton. What had she been thinking drinking so much the night before?
Never again, she thought as she turned onto her side. Her brows shot up, and she gasped when her gaze slammed into Michael’s. Memories of the night before bombarded her mind all at once, and she groaned in embarrassment.
“Good morning.” His deep, sleep-filled voice tugged at her heart-strings.
“Morning,” she mumbled. Swallowing her pride, she said, “I’m sorry about last night. I—”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” He touched her cheek but quickly pulled his hand away. “How do you feel?”
“Like I had too much to drink. My head feels as if a hippopotamus is sitting on it.”
Michael chuckled. “Can’t say I ever heard it put that way before.” He reached behind him and turned back around with an oversized shot glass filled with green liquid. “Drink this.”
Peyton leaned away from him. “I’m not drinking that…whatever it is.”
“It’s pickle juice, egg whites, and peach fuzz.”
“What?”
He chuckled. “I’m kidding. It’s just pickle juice. It’ll replenish your electrolytes and get your body back in balance. Add this with a little more sleep, and you’ll feel better. I promise.”
Peyton hesitated, but eventually took the glass from him. “So you just happened to have pickle juice laying around?”
“I had someone bring it up.”
She sniffed before taking a small sip. Realizing the concoction didn’t taste as bad as she expected, she finished the drink.
“Did you get any sleep?” She handed him the glass and laid back down, feeling as if she could sleep for a week.
“A little.”
They lay on their sides staring at each other as she recalled some of the things she’d said and did the night before. She had never been so brazen and hoped he didn’t think less of her.
“Thank you for last night,” she said and smiled when he lifted an eyebrow at her. She realized after the words left her mouth how they must sound.
“You do know we didn’t do anything, right?” Michael asked.
“I know. That’s what I’m thanking you for. Though I did want something to happen between us last night, it’s probably good we didn’t do anything.”
Peyton scratched her head and pushed hair away from her face, imagining how bad it probably looked, but too lazy to get up and comb it.
She hadn’t been thinking straight the night before. No, that’s not true. She knew what she’d asked for, but hadn’t thought the situation through. Yes, she wanted Michael more than she had wanted any man in a long time, but she wanted more than one night.
“So why did you want something to happen between us? Don’t you remember your rules? Rule number one, no touching.”
“I remember my rules. But…but my body didn’t give a damn about the rules. It’s…it’s been awhile for me.” She hadn’t planned to add that last part, but it was true. She hadn’t been with a man since her husband and even when they were still together, toward the end, their sex life had been almost non-existent.
“Well, for the record, I wanted you. I want you like a hungry man wants food, and it has been hard as hell to keep my hands off of you.”
Peyton glanced at him. A thrill scurried through her body, bringing a smile to her face. In the last few days, Michael had made her feel desirable, and they hadn’t done much. A small touch here and there, and then there were the kisses. Each kiss brought her body more to life.
“Well, for the record, you’ve done a lousy job at sticking to rule number one.”
Michael burst out laughing. “You’re too much.” He turned onto his back, lifted his arms, moaning as he stretched his long muscular limbs up and out before dropping his arms back onto the bed. “Regardless of how things started out between us, I think I’m going to miss you.”
Peyton punched him in the arm, laughing. “You better. ‘Cause I’m going to miss you too.” She had given him a hard time initially, but tomorrow they would go their separate ways. Peyton didn’t know if she would ever see him again once they left Jamaica, but she would never forget the way he made her feel.
Hours later, Peyton, Michael, Luke and the wedding officiant stood under a white gazebo, the ocean as their backdrop. The setting sun cast a romantic ambiance over the already peaceful evening. Now Peyton understood why Christina wanted to get married in Jamaica. It truly was paradise.
Peyton’s gaze met Michael’s. He had been watching her since she arrived on the beach. She swallowed, trying not to fidget under his intense stare. Her body pulsed when he looked at her like he wanted to rip her clothes off and make wild, passionate love to her. She had seen the expression often over the last four days – in her swimsuit, after the kiss on the beach, in her new clothes, at the rehearsal dinner, and again when they returned from the club. Each time his gaze intensified.
When Eric Benet’s, Spend My Life With You began playing, Peyton diverted her attention to where Christina and their father stood. Thomas Jenkins was handsome in his white tuxedo, less the jacket, as was the case with Luke and Michael. But it was Christina who garnered all of the attention. The long, white, crochet hippie-like wedding gown with bell sleeves was gorgeous and looked as if it was made specifically for her. When in fact, Jada had found the dress on one of her many shopping ventures.
The family members sat in folding chairs facing the gazebo. Everyone stood and turned as Christina and their father walked the short distance.
Peyton’s gaze collided with Michael’s again. The song’s lyrics taunted her, making her imagine how the words would sound coming from Michael as he whispered them in her ear someday. That just maybe he was feeling for her, what she felt for him.
“Family and friends, we are gathered here today…”
The officiator’s words cut into Peyton’s thoughts, shaking her out of her ridiculous fantasy. Michael had made it clear that morning that he only saw her as a friend, a friend he wouldn’t mind having sex with. He claimed he wasn’t a long-term relationship kind of guy. Peyton disagreed. He was absolutely relationship material.
*
No matter how much he tried, Michael couldn’t take his gaze off of Peyton. He knew Christina and Luke should be the center of attention, but his eyes wouldn’t cooperate. It was as if Peyton had put a spell on him, forcing all of his attention on her. It didn’t help that she looked like a goddess in the short, strapless peach dress that hugged every luscious curve of her body. All he could think about was stripping her out of it to get another glimpse at what lay beneath the silky garment.
Peyton fiddled with the bouquet of flowers in her hand. He knew he was making her uncomfortable, but Michael didn’t glance away. He still enjoyed messing with her even if they weren’t verbally sparring.
Earlier over breakfast, she had questioned him
about his dating status. He knew what she was fishing for, the same thing he had been thinking about – staying in touch to see if what was happening between them could turn into something more. Michael knew himself well enough to know he couldn’t give her what she wanted.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Lucas Hayden” the officiator announced.
Cheers and whistles went up all around as the couple kissed. When Luke and Christina finally came up for air, Luke turned to Michael.
“Well, I did it. I’m a married man.” Luke beamed.
“I can’t believe you went through with this,” Michael teased hugging his friend, truly happy for him. “I guess it’s up to me to keep the bachelor’s life alive.”
“For now. I have a feeling your day is coming sooner than you think.” Luke pounded Michael’s back before they released each other.
“I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but someone is feeding you wrong information, my friend. I’m never getting married.”
Chapter Nine
“You’re fired!” Peyton slammed the file cabinet drawer and turned to her brother. “I’ve had enough. You can’t just go into these client’s homes or place of business and do whatever you want. When I give you a work order, there are specific details of what you’re supposed to do.”
“PJ, the client liked the light fixture that I picked out. I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about this.”
Her body trembled, barely holding her anger in check. “I’m making a big deal about this because you keep doing the same damn thing. Screwing up a job over and over is not how Jenkins & Sons operates!”
“You know what? I thought the trip to Jamaica would mellow you out, but instead, you came back even bitchier than before. I don’t know what your problem is, but deal with it and leave the rest of us the hell alone!”
Peyton’s body jerked in surprise, hurt strangling her vocal cords. Jerry had never talked to her like that before. She knew she’d been hard on him, but firing him wasn’t an emotional response.
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