by Emma Hart
I wanted to ask so many questions. Why she lived with him. Where her mom was. What their relationship was.
But, I didn’t. Questions were bad, but this was good. He didn’t want anything serious, I just needed to prove a point, and nothing really would ever happen, because not only was falling in love with him completely out of the question, I had no desire to be the person who took on someone else’s child.
Or even my own. I’d leave that to my friends and be the cool aunt.
“Well, I can assure you I’m fully protected, and there’s an unopened jumbo box of Trojan condoms in my nightstand. No tiny humans for me.” I picked up my wine glass and looked at him. “Do we have a deal? We’ll have sex three times in two weeks and never see each other again.”
Elliott looked at me for a long moment. “Done.”
Chapter Four – Peyton
Multiple orgasms: the only thing which, in this day of social media, is designed to make men feel bad and inferior.
I threw my purse to the floor and shrugged off my jacket. “We need to set boundaries.”
“We do?” Elliott asked, closing the door behind me.
“Yes.” I hung my jacket on the hook and turned back to look at him with my hands on my hips. “Keep kissing on the mouth to a minimum. It’s too intimate.”
He nodded. “Agreed.”
“Foreplay is necessary, but it doesn’t have to result in an orgasm.” I ignored the raise of his eyebrows. “This should be quick and rough. Got it?”
He held out his hands. “I can deal with that.”
I headed for the stairs and started to walk up them. “When we’re done, I’ll disappear to shower. You should be gone when I get out.”
“I have to admit, this is an efficient hook-up. I’m a little turned on by this.”
I sighed. “Deal?”
“Deal. Trust me. I don’t want to be here any longer than necessary.”
“Thank God. It’s so much easier if we’re on the same page.” I turned down the hall into my room. He was right behind me, and I knew I was crazy.
I was doing this. With him.
It was too late to turn back now. Besides—a part of me wanted to do this. He was ripped and toned with muscles that made my vagina want to weep with joy, and the way his forearms flexed whenever he’d gripped his drink at the restaurant had made my vagina weep with joy.
More to the point, the teenager inside me wanted to do this. She wanted to have sex with Elliott Sloane and prove to him what he’d lost when she, once upon a time, had liked him.
Petty as fuck, I know, but I couldn’t help it.
Elliott pushed the door shut behind him and looked at me.
I hadn’t anticipated this part. The going from the rule-setting to the actually-happening. Now, I was standing here in front of him, biting my lip, and looking him in the eye.
Tension made the hairs on my arms stand on end. I knew I needed to do something, so I reached down for my heel.
Instead, I scratched the side of my knee.
Elliott smirked, tugged his shirt from his waistband, and pulled it over his head. It fell to the side with a swish swoosh, gently landing on the floor with a sound that barely broke the silence between us.
I bent down and pulled off my heels, tossing them to the side. They hit with a clunk far heavier than the one his shirt had. He responded by undoing his belt and throwing it to the floor.
Goddamn it. Now, I had to take off my shirt.
I swallowed hard, bit the inside of my lower lip, and grabbed the hem of my shirt. Crossing my arms, I pulled it up over my head and tossed it to the floor on top of my shoes.
His gaze dropped, darkening as his lids lowered. His eyes swept over my upper body, from the hollows in my collarbones to the way the black lace of my bra curved over my breasts.
His Adam’s apple bobbed. Desire darkened his gaze as he dropped it to the waistband of my jeans and back up again.
I was exposed. Totally exposed. It was as if he could see right through my clothing and see me naked.
He stepped toward me, and I tucked my fingers inside the belt loops of my jeans. I wasn’t a nervous person—shyness wasn’t a trait I’d ever been born with, so this was new.
Scary and new.
Elliott stopped merely a foot in front of me and looked at me. “Are you sure about this? Because I’m still wearing my shoes, and I’m okay with leaving with my shirt off.”
I braced myself and met his gaze. “No, I’m not sure about this at all, but I’m going to do this anyway.”
“Well, that’s reassuring.”
“Elliott?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut the fuck up and seduce me.”
He didn’t need to be told again. This time, he closed the distance between us completely. He grabbed my hip and tugged me toward him, then slid one hand around the back of my neck.
And kissed me.
Kissed me.
His lips touched mine, hard and firm. My heart jumped into my throat, and I inhaled sharply when his tongue flicked out across my lower lip.
His grip tightened, his fingers digging into my skin. Fizzes of heat tingled across my skin in lightning bolts, and my body melded against him as I felt the hot burst of lust through me.
Thankfully, he was fully in agreement with what I thought about kissing, and he quickly moved from my mouth to my neck. It was smooth, his lips ghosting across my skin in a swift movement. His fingers twined in my hair, and he pulled my head back so he could kiss his way down my neck.
His kisses were firm and hard, each one conveying the desire I felt currently pushing against my lower stomach.
My fingers found their way down to his pants and hooked through his belt loops, holding him against me. Despite my thoughts about kissing, I wanted him to kiss me properly.
It’d been so fleeting, yet it’d felt so good. How good would it be if he could do it properly?
I shook off that thought when he backed me up to the bed. He released his grip on me and pushed me back. I bounced when my ass hit the bed, but before I could ask him what he was doing, he pushed me onto my back and up the bed with a firm grip on my ass.
Elliott covered my body with his, sliding easily between my legs. His lips found mine again for a hot, rough kiss that made me arch my back and press my breasts against him.
His teeth grazed my bottom lip, tugging it firmly, and it was if that action set me on fire. My clit ached, especially when he reached between my breasts and unclipped my bra.is r
He pushed the cup away from my breasts and cupped it with his rough palm. It was just enough pressure that it felt good, but light enough that it didn’t hurt.
Sensations flooded me as he dragged his mouth from mine and down to my chest. His touch was like lava against my skin—smooth and rich and burning.
Heat flushed across my skin with every movement he made. From the way his lips brushed my collarbone to the way his tongue circled my nipple.
Elliott moved further down my body, fingers probing and lips kissing as he went. He wasted no time sliding his hands from my waist to inside the waistband of my jeans.
He tugged. I lifted my hips so he could pull them over my ass and down and over my legs. I chewed the inside of my cheek as he removed them completely, leaving me in nothing but my pretty lace thong and matching bra straps.
His gaze roved over my body. It was dark and full of desire, burning with pure want, and I stared at his face. I wanted him to look me in the eye so I could feel the full effect of how he felt. I wanted to see him, raw and real, and I wanted to see every inch of him in this moment.
He looked up, and our eyes locked.
Dark and desperate. That was I saw when I gazed into his eyes. I wasn’t entirely sure he didn’t see the same looking into mine, but I was beyond caring.
All I wanted was for him to listen to what I’d said.
Hard and quick.
I’d meant it.
I wanted it.
I bit the corner of my lip.
I was tired of this playing around—I wasn’t going to spend my night waiting for him to initiate foreplay. Fuck that shit.
I sat up and grabbed his jeans. Before he could say a word, I had the button popped open and his zipper down. My hands were slipping into his pants before he could even grab my wrists. By the time he had, I had the perfect view of his cock bursting out of his black boxer briefs.
I could see the head of his cock out of the top of the waistband. It glistened with pre-cum, and it was strangely satisfying to see he was as turned on as I was.
I leaned forward, pulling his cock from the material. Long, thick, and hard, I wrapped my fingers around the base and brought him to my mouth. Closing my lips around the head of his cock, I used my tongue to tease his very tip.
The dribble of pre-cum was thin and salty, and I used my saliva to make his whole cock wet.
I took him into my mouth properly, taking him further and further with each suck. He groaned, and his hips bucked more than once as he did everything he could to keep control of himself. His fingers stroked through my hair and fisted it at the base of my skull.
I looked up.
His head was bent, his eyes firmly on me as I teased him with my mouth. His neck was flushing red, and his eyes were dark and dangerously full of desire.
He pulled my head back, moving his hips, so I had no choice but to release him. He let go of my hair, and the next thing I knew, I was on my back, and he was bending down between my parted legs.
His mouth was hot as he kissed my legs and moved my thong to the side, so his warm breath was tickling across my aching clit. He used one finger to trail a path from my clit to my pussy, and he slipped that finger inside me easily.
His eyes met mine. “So wet for someone you hate.”
I swallowed. “My body isn’t as smart as I am.”
“I think your body is a genius,” he replied, keeping his eyes on me as he lowered his mouth to my pussy.
His tongue was like magic. He knew how to use it, and hot flushes ran through my skin as he fucked me with his fingers and toyed with my clit with his mouth. It felt so good—too good, and the way the pleasure was building inside me was so intense I didn’t know much longer I could stand it for.
I tried to move away, but he wouldn’t let me. He removed his fingers from me and grabbed my thighs. I was both annoyed and happy—annoyed because all this time was unnecessary, but happy because I was on the brink and desperately needed to come.
I did. Right into his mouth.
I was hot and sweaty, a total mess. He got up, wiping his mouth with a smug grin. He took hold of the waistband of my underwear and finally removed it, tossing it aside without a care.
“Condom?” he said, stepping out of his boxers.
“Top one.” I pointed shakily toward the nightstand.
Jesus fuck, Elliott Sloane could lick pussy.
He opened the drawer and pulled out the condom box. It was brand new, bought especially for this purpose. I watched him as he pulled out one of the condoms and undid the foil packet.
Watching him roll it over his cock was mesmerizing. The smooth way his fingers made it fit to perfection had me squirming and trying to close my legs.
He smirked. “Flip over. Onto your knees.”
There was a God.
I didn’t need to be told twice. I flipped onto my stomach, then went up onto my knees. Elliott nudged me along the bed a little, and I went, clenching at his already-tight grip on my ass.
He positioned himself in my wetness, and with one hand on my ass, slowly pushed inside me. I dropped my head, closing my eyes as he moved fully into me and groaned.
It felt so good. He felt so good.
I hated myself for liking it.
Elliott moved, thrusting in and out. He was gentle at first, but after a minute or so, each previously careful movement became a deep, rough thrust that sent pleasure hurtling through my veins.
He slid one hand up my back and grabbed my hair. I gasped, moaning, too, and he pulled my head back, so my back was arched. He went deeper, harder, faster. I moaned, conflicted between how much I hated him and how much I liked this.
The orgasm hit me hard. He released my hair right at that moment and gripped my hips. He fucked me through it, and before he’d slowed, another rolled through my body.
“Oh God,” I moaned, over and over. I could barely breathe through the intense pleasure that had all my nerve endings on fire.
He gave one final thrust, stilling inside me. His groan of release danced across my skin, and he collapsed over me, barely holding his own weight.
We stayed like this for a minute, so we could catch our breath, then he moved. It almost ached as he pulled out of me, but I ignored that feeling and rolled over.
Neither of us said anything for a moment, but he did throw me my robe. I was glad to cover up, which was a ridiculous thought, given that I’d just orgasmed onto his tongue, but whatever.
I stood on shaky legs and looked at the door to my bathroom. It was directly opposite my room, and I could see Elliott’s bare ass as he cleaned himself up.
He was still half hard when he came back into the room and grabbed his boxers. He looked at me as he cleaned himself up.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing. Just wondering if you were going to finish that prayer you started a few minutes ago.”
“I will,” I said, walking past him. “I’ll say amen when you shut the front door behind you.”
He laughed. “Enjoy your shower, Peyton.”
“I’ll be washing you off me. It’ll be the best shower I’ve ever taken.”
I slammed the door on his deep, full laugh. Locked it, too. Not that I thought he might come in and perv at me, but because I felt better with it locked.
I started the water and, dumping my robe on the floor, jumped into the shower without checking the temperature. It was way too hot, so I squealed and stepped away from the flow until it regulated.
I kept half an ear out for the sound of Elliott leaving. I didn’t hear it as I showered, but when I stepped out, wrapping both my hair and my body in a towel, it was deathly quiet. I hung the robe up on the hook behind the door and stepped out into the hall.
He wasn’t in my room, and a quick check of my office proved he wasn’t there, either. A quick trudge down the stairs showed my house empty of him.
A sigh of relief escaped me as I moved to the front door. It was locked, and my key was lying on the mat by my feet.
“Amen,” I muttered, putting the key in the hole. I quickly retrieved my phone from my purse, then headed back upstairs. After drying off and braiding my hair, I put some pajamas on, then put all my dirty clothes in the laundry basket in the corner of my room.
I had one more thing to do before I’d allow myself to sleep.
I grabbed my phone and brought up the three-way text chat with Mellie and Chloe.
Me: You’re so fucking dead.
Chapter Five – Elliott
Turns out, having sex with the girl you crushed on in high school was better than you thought it would be when you were eighteen. Even if there’s a chance she was plotting your murder after in the shower.
Peyton Austin.
I don’t know who I was expecting on that blind date, but it wasn’t her.
The scariest part was that she hadn’t changed a bit. She was still the same, self-assured, sexy, sarcastic person she’d always been. She still had that same scathing look that, when shot your way, made you feel two feet tall.
It was a skill—one I’d only mastered since becoming a parent.
I moved a stuffed Cinderella from the middle of the kitchen floor and set it on the table, then leaned back against the counter and looked out of the window.
God. I’d only signed up for the stupid hook-up website because my mother wanted me to start dating. I didn’t want to date. I had no time to date. My life consisted of screwing up pigtail braids and hand-was
hing Disney princess dresses because God forbid they make them machine washable.
See? No time to date. Those dresses were delicate. Way too delicate for my work-roughened hands to clean.
Was three-years-old too young to make her do her own laundry?
I wiped my hand over my face and watched as a bird perched on a branch of one of the bushes in the backyard.
Peyton Austin.
Man. Fucking hell.
I ran my hand through my hair. What was crazier? That she was back in my life or that I’d agreed to her stupid situation? That I’d sat across from her and agreed to fuck her so she could prove what she wanted to?
She’d win that bet. There was no doubt about it. She’d been the bane of my existence in high school, thanks to the night of junior prom.
Hell, I remembered that like it was yesterday. It hadn’t mattered that she’d been out of my league—at least, that was how it’d felt—or that I’d had other girls demanding my attention. I’d wanted her, and I’d damn well nearly had her.
Until my grandmother died, and I was dragged out of state without a chance to contact her to tell her. From that moment on, she hated me.
She wouldn’t talk to me. She tore up the note I tried to pass her in math class, she ignored me in the halls, and she refused to answer my calls. Even when I finally was able to get the truth to her, there was no doubt she thought it was an excuse.
She was stubborn. Pig-headed. Obstinate.
Everything I hated, despite having my own healthy stubborn streak.
She held a grudge like nobody I’d ever known, and it was obvious that she still held it against me.
So, why did a part of me want to sit her down and convince her that the reason I stood her up was wasn’t my fault? That I’d never meant to do it?
That, even at seventeen, she was the last damn person I’d have wanted to stand up.
I rubbed my hands down my faces. I hadn’t lied to her when I said she made me feel like I was eighteen again. She was nothing but a pain in my ass. If I were a smarter man, I’d have walked out of there the second our eyes met.
