Because he was going to ask the world of her.
Chaz reached for the nightstand, finding the drawer by touch.
Where the hell—?
Fuck it.
He twisted, digging past the junk for the condoms he knew were there.
Ah-ha!
He produced the gold foil packet, his stomach knotting up, but only for a second.
Payton snatched the condom from his hands and had it open in a blink of an eye. It...was strangely not weird. She ripped the foil open, leaned back and rolled it on with ease. A sexy, confident woman. He’d never met anyone else like her, able to slice through the bullshit, with an eye to getting at the heart of a problem.
The panties that had graced her hips so nicely were askew, stretched.
He’d apologize later, but not right now.
Chaz gripped the delicate lace at her hip and tugged. It came apart easily enough.
Payton sat back, blinking, her brows raised a little. The color in her cheeks wasn’t anger though. He’d seen her in various levels of rage. This...was new. And he liked it.
He ripped the other side, then pulled her panties out from between them. Now it was just him, her and a bit of latex.
She peered up at him, her grin much too pleased. He liked that look, it was...better than he’d imagined.
He cupped her mound, drawing his fingers along her slit. She shivered, but made no protest about the touch. Not too sensitive, not too soon. He thrust his fingers inside of her again and she groaned, still hungry for his touch.
She rose up on her knees, his cock in her hand. He pulled his fingers out, watching this moment, committing it to his memory. How many times had he imagined this? He stopped breathing the moment the head of his dick touched her folds.
Oh—damn.
Chaz swallowed and his vision hazed.
Fuck.
The feel of her...
Payton grasped his shoulders, her pussy hugging him so dang tight. He gripped her ass in both hands, helping her rise and fall at her own pace. Her breasts pressed to his chest and her lips caressed his brow.
He tipped his chin up, finding her lips with his. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, her fingers twining in his hair.
Fuck, this wasn’t going to last long. After touching her like that, feeling her orgasm, watching her, he was ready to come.
“Chaz.” Frustration laced his name.
“What?” He nipped her lower lip.
“I can’t...”
“What? What is it?”
She couldn’t do this? She couldn’t—what?
Payton pushed at his shoulder.
He fell back against the pillows.
She tossed her hair back and planted her hands against his chest. The way she looked at him...holy hell. She leaned forward and lifted her hips, groaning as she stroked his cock with her pussy.
“Better?” He braced his feet on the mattress and lifted his hips.
“Yes. Yes!”
He thrust in time with her, nothing gentle about their joining. She moaned louder and he thrust harder until his sight blurred. He dimly heard her shout, but it was the tightening of her vaginal walls around him that spurred his orgasm on. He slammed up, his hands gripping her hips, and held her there, the long moments of release dragging on until there was nothing left in him.
Payton pitched forward, draping herself over him, her hair everywhere.
Chaz wrapped his arms around her, inhaling that same, flowery scent that had plagued him in high school.
Best damn thing.
He stroked her back, savoring the feel of her on him. Around him.
Her breath warmed his neck and chest.
For several moments, neither spoke or moved.
He was avoiding the reality like a champ. It still didn’t alter the fact that sex changed them. Fundamentally. And he wasn’t ready to think about that. To become another notch on her bedpost.
Chaz swallowed.
Payton tipped her head to the side, peering up at him through her hair.
He didn’t like the way she was looking at him. Wary.
Fuck. What did he say?
“Do you want to use my bathroom?” As soon as the words were out, he wanted to stuff them back in.
Invisible shutters descended. For the first time, he looked at Payton with no idea what she was thinking. Usually he had some inkling, but now...nothing.
“No, I’ll use the hall.” She pushed up.
He hissed and squeezed his eyes shut, his dick too sensitive for such a fast parting of ways. The bed dipped and when he looked around for Payton, she was gone.
Damn it.
Chaz rolled out of bed and stalked into the bathroom.
First, clean up. Then, damage control.
He didn’t bother putting on clothes. It was probably uncouth or whatever, but he had to stop Payton in her tracks before she made up her mind.
The hall bath door was shut when he emerged. He padded to it, staring at the crack of light underneath.
What the hell was he going to say?
He’d never really thought about what came after. Yeah, the sex was about as fantastic as he’d imagined it would be. But this? This sucked.
Should he start with, I’m sorry?
That only worked if he knew what he was apologizing for.
Did he need to explain himself?
He’d have to figure that out as he went.
What the hell was he going to say?
The door cracked open. Payton looked up at him, only one eye visible.
“You mind?” she asked.
“Payton...” He nudged at the door. He wanted to talk to her whole face, not just part of it.
“What?” She sighed and let the door drift back.
“Come here.” He didn’t have answers. He knew that things between them had always been complicated. There was no easy way to explain what they were to each other. But this change didn’t have to be bad.
She let him pull her into a hug, bare skin to skin. He squeezed her tight when she’d barely touch him.
It wasn’t his imagination. She’d kissed him. She’d reached for him. Which meant there was something on her side, too.
Chaz kissed her brow and her temple. Slowly her arms curled tighter around him.
If this wasn’t Payton, if things were simpler, what would he do?
“Come to bed.” He took her hand and backed up.
She followed, still a bit of that wary glint behind her eyes, but she wasn’t running from him.
Chaz pushed the comforter down and nudged her in first. She tossed her clothes and his towel, still strewn on the mattress, over the side and onto the floor. He settled in behind her. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her close.
What did he know?
Something was wrong, so she’d come home. To him. She’d kissed him, and he’d responded.
Payton needed safety, from whatever it was she was running from, and he was it. After all this time, all the weird dances they’d performed, it’d come to this. They were each other’s safety net.
He kissed the back of her neck and stroked the soft skin of her stomach.
“Let me know when you want to talk,” he said. While he’d rather have a tooth extracted than hash out feelings, one of them had to take the lead. When it came to Payton, he’d fight for her. Be different for her. And that started with opening his mouth and saying what needed to be said.
“What is there to say?”
“Well, apart from whatever sent you running home, how about the fact we just...fucked?” He felt her flinch at the word. Yeah, he didn’t like it either. It wasn’t right.
“You think I screw everything that moves.” Her tone was cold. Frosty.
“No. Now wait a minute.” He propped up on an elbow and stared down at her. “I have never said that.”
“You don’t have to.”
Typical Payton. Instead of resolving an issue, she’d pick a fight. Distract... Deflect...
Was
that what she’d done? Use sex to avoid the problem?
He leaned over her, searching her eyes for...something.
“You’re a flirt, is what you are. Promiscuous? No. But you will smile and tease to get what you want.”
He had half a mind to kiss her, but he didn’t want to if she wasn’t into it. The idea of her...and him...just to not talk about whatever she was running from...
Payton relaxed into the pillow, her expression guarded but...not as much.
“Are you using sex to keep me from asking questions?” Now he had to know.
“Really?” She rolled her eyes, the exasperated sound one he’d heard a hundred times.
“I’m trying to figure out what’s going on.”
“We screwed. It was bound to happen.” She shrugged.
“Bound to happen, huh?”
He dipped his head, ready to call her bluff.
She swallowed.
He kissed her mouth, paying special attention to her lower lip, worrying it with his teeth. Her hands curled around his shoulders and she shifted until they lay facing each other, her leg hooked over his hip.
“Bound to happen,” he whispered.
She pushed her hand into his hair and kissed him back.
Yeah, a casual screw didn’t kiss him like her life depended on it.
Chaz was willing to bet he could out-stubborn her. The trick was to get her on her back.
6.
Payton rolled over, in no hurry to wake up. She hurt in a way she hadn’t for a long time. A bone-deep ache from her toes to her hairline. It was glorious. And terrifying. And she didn’t want to think about it.
Her plan had been simple, wait until Chaz was asleep, sneak off to her room for a good cry, then split. Webb be damned. But freaking Chaz. Any time she moved, rolled over, took a deep breath, he was touching her, and she couldn’t not respond.
Christ, she was going to have to tell him. Not about her. Their parents. Knowing him, his conscience was eating him up and it wasn’t...right.
The smell of food—bacon, at least—tickled her nose.
He was busy...cooking breakfast. But he was busy...
Payton rolled to her back and threw her arm over her face.
How did she get herself into these things?
She blew out a breath and stared at the ceiling. Her internal clock indicated it was mid-morning sometime, but the blackout curtains let very little light in.
Alice was out there somewhere. Tomorrow was a week since Payton skipped out on her fake-boss and went to ground. She should have never have come here. But she’d been so certain they’d get Alice and the shipment. Instead, Payton was now most certainly a target by a process of elimination, unless Alice assumed Payton had been arrested as well. Which she didn’t think was likely. Alice would need her phone back. It had all her contacts, everything the DEA would need to put her, and her many customers, behind bars for a very long time. Payton had no illusions about her continued safety.
Which meant that Payton needed to leave Chaz. Being here, with him, made him a target. She’d always been hooked on him, ever since her father presented her with a picture of her new family. Yeah, in the beginning she’d been so angry that she’d tried to screw things up for them. Push Martha away. Do something they couldn’t ignore, like seduce her pseudo-stepbrother. But then the real truth came out. Dad’s cancer. It was eating him alive.
Dad.
What would he say about her now?
Payton swiped her fingers under her eyes.
Thinking about him wouldn’t make things better. She’d created this...whatever it was, so she’d deal.
She slid out of bed, grabbing her bra as she went. The panties were gone and last she’d looked, her sweater dress had disappeared. She tip-toed across the hall, the sound of Chaz whistling while he cooked chasing her all the way to her room.
They’d showered in the early morning hours, though she was pretty sure getting clean hadn’t been Chaz’s intention.
In the light of day, what was he doing?
He’d always been such a black and white thinker. It’d driven her crazy when she was younger. They’d fought. And then they’d discovered the magic of the trampoline.
Under the stars, on that flat surface, they could say anything. Talk about everything. And it was okay. She’d come to understand and love his pigheadedness out there.
Nothing was ever so clear-cut, right or wrong, but to him there wasn’t any in between. He had to be at least partially freaking out. In his mind, they were brother and sister, even if that was only in name. She couldn’t, in good conscience, let him go on thinking that.
Her dad was gone. Keeping secrets protected no one.
Payton dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved tunic top. Clothes she could travel in, blend into a crowd, wear for a few days if she had to. There was no telling how today was going to go, and she needed to be prepared.
“Payton?” Chaz knocked on the door, startling her.
“Yeah?”
“Breakfast is ready.”
He sounded...chipper.
Maybe all those frowns were just sexual constipation? Was that a thing?
She slid her feet into fuzzy socks Chaz had tossed at her a few nights ago, pulled her wild tangle of hair back into a bun and shuffled out into the empty hall. Her stomach growled. After last night’s aerobic workout, she was starving.
This was it.
They’d have to actually talk about things.
He could still hate her.
She shuffled into the kitchen, bracing herself for the sight of him in daylight.
His back was to her, but that didn’t change the way her stomach flip-flopped. How many times had she walked in here and seen him like this? She chuckled at his wardrobe choices. By some weird stroke of luck, they matched. Jeans. Black shirt. Fuzzy socks.
Chaz glanced over his shoulder, his gaze flicking from head to toe. The corner of his mouth she could see hitched up in a smile.
“Mornin’,” he drawled.
“Hi.”
Well, he wasn’t spewing hate at her, so that was good.
Chaz picked up the two plates sitting on the counter and started shoveling food onto them. How much did he think she ate?
“Coffee’s ready. Pour me a mug?” he asked without looking at her.
It was such a...domestic, normal request. She almost didn’t know what to do with it, except the obvious.
Payton went about preparing their coffee, her memory supplying her with exactly the right combination for him.
Any moment, he was going to start asking questions. They didn’t have that trampoline now. Maybe their adult version was the bed? Or the kitchen table? She wasn’t sure.
Payton joined him at the table. It was smaller than the one his mother had, which meant she was forced to sit closer to Chaz. She couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing.
“Sleep okay?” He buttered his toast, then scooted knife and tub over to her.
“Yeah.” Her throat closed up, preventing her from saying anything else.
“Good. Good. I was thinking today we’d go get a tree.”
“A...tree?” She blinked at him.
“Yeah, you know, it’s Christmas. We need a tree.” He shrugged and started eating.
“Oh. Okay.” We.
“I could probably borrow Mom’s, but I don’t think I have the combination to her storage unit since she changed it last.” He gestured with the toast as he spoke.
Was this what they were doing? Acting like nothing had happened? She didn’t know what to think or do or say.
She picked at her food, both starving and unable to eat a bite.
What if he was trying to forget last night?
That felt...wrong.
They’d had amazing sex, the kind that...maybe meant something. It wasn’t just that either of them was good in bed, it went beyond that. More than chemistry or lust, it was...deeper. And ignoring that felt like an insult.
“W
hat are you thinking about so hard?” Chaz sipped his coffee, his gaze on her.
She stared right back at him.
Had she just fallen into his trap?
She wasn’t a total fool. She knew Chaz had probably catalogued her actions, broken down her habits. He was methodical like that.
“I was thinking...how do you feel about tinsel?” She bit off the end of her bacon.
“Tinsel?” He frowned.
“You know, that silvery, glittery stuff you put on trees?”
“Oh, God.” Chaz scrubbed a hand over his face. “Mom got some one year. We had this dog, Foxy, and she ate the God damn stuff off the tree. Spent weeks pooping that crap out of her.”
“What?” Payton sputtered.
“Yeah. I think...that was the year we had a cat for all of a day, too. Shit. I forgot about that cat. The dog started at the bottom of the tree, and the cat at the top. That cat shit glitter on my bed.” He thumped his knuckles on the table.
“I never knew you had a cat.”
“We had a few. One really nice one when I was little, then that crazy son of a bitch that dumped everywhere.”
“I wish we could have had a cat.” Payton sighed and leaned her elbows on the table. Her father’s allergies had been too bad to allow for pets.
“No. You want a dog.”
“I do not want to be jumped on and licked.”
“You sure about that?” Chaz arched a brow at her as he shoveled more food in his mouth.
Payton sputtered, more at his expression than the not so delicate reference to their nighttime antics.
“I thought we weren’t talking about that.” She shifted, the wooden chair doing nothing to ease the soreness between her legs.
“Hadn’t gotten around to it.”
She pushed her breakfast around on her plate.
“Hey.” Chaz tapped her foot with his. “Eat.”
“I am.”
“No, you’re playing with your food while you overthink shit. You’ve created a worst-case scenario in your head and now you’re trying to fit everything into that situation. Stop.”
“What am I supposed to think? Can you honestly tell me you didn’t wake up, guilt eating at you, and decide to feed it this?” She gestured to the feast on their plates.
Chaz chewed slowly, rolling her words around. He knew her, but the truth was, she knew him, too.
Up in Smoke (Firehouse Three, #4) Page 5
