by Amiee Louise
His voice is dripping with seduction, and I am a slave to his touch. He pushes his middle finger inside me, finds my sensitive nub with his thumb, and strokes gentle circles. I am writhing and panting beneath him, desperate for his touch, fraught for my release.
“Look how you respond to me, angel.”
I can see his thick erection straining through his boxer briefs.
“Sam, fuck me please,” I whine, breathless and desperate. He smiles wickedly and winks.
“Not until later, baby. I need to get dressed, or we’re going to be late.”
He climbs off the bed, leaving me panting and craving my release. Fucking tease!
He moves over to the walk-in wardrobe, and I shout, “Fine! I’ll finish myself off then!”
Like lightning, he sprints back over to me and pins both of my hands above my head in one of his hands, pressing his muscled chest against me.
“Do not touch yourself; you’re going to trust that I’ll take care of you later, angel.”
He winks and knows he has me right where he wants me. Bastard! He plants a chaste kiss on my lips, pulls me to my feet, and goes back over to the walk-in wardrobe. He emerges wearing black skinny jeans, a white skull vest, a fitted, black, suit jacket, and black Doc Marten boots. He looks mouth-wateringly attractive. I watch as he gets ready and lick my lips—he catches me watching him and laughs.
“See something you like, my lovely?” I bite my lip. “Now, you know what biting your lip does to me. Play nice.”
He checks his reflection, runs his hand through his freshly-spiked hair and straightens his jacket. I pick up my black clutch bag, and he offers me his hand. I take it, and we walk into the living area. Cole is waiting for us; he looks at his watch.
“Someone’s cutting it fine, mate.”
Sam laughs and says, “Blame this one. Bloody women.”
He swats my bum, then Cole and he both laugh. We go down to the parking garage, and Cole is driving Sam’s white Porsche Cayenne 4x4. We make our way to Sam’s parents’ house in Ashford in Kent. It takes us over an hour to get there, and when we pull up outside, I am awestruck by the property in front of me. We get out of the car, and Sam laughs at my reaction. He explains to me that it is a detached five-bedroom house with a double garage, stables, and around three acres of land. It has been built in the style of a traditional Kent barn.
Sam leads me over to the door and pushes it open. A striking older woman greets us. She is tall, slender, has dark-brown, jaw-length hair, blue-green eyes, and a bright-red-lipsticked smile.
“Sam, darling,” she croons. She hugs Sam and kisses his cheek. I notice that her accent is soft and American. “It’s so good to see you.”
She pulls away from Sam’s embrace.
“It’s good to see you too, Mum. Looking stunning as ever. I’ve missed you.”
“Charming as ever, sweetie, just like your father,” she says with a laugh. She turns to me and takes both of my hands in hers. “You must be Peyton; it’s so lovely to finally meet the woman who’s turned my boy into a monogamous man.”
I laugh and clear my throat. “It’s so good to meet you too, Mrs. Newbolt.”
“Please call me Lori. I’ve heard nothing but great things about you, Peyton, can I get you a drink?”
I nod. “Yes, please, rose wine would be fantastic.”
“A girl after my own heart. Coming right up. There are some beers in the refrigerator, darling, help yourself.”
Lori goes off into the kitchen and Willow comes bounding down the wooden staircase. She is as lively as ever with her short-cropped dark hair, quirky dress sense, and enthusiastic personality.
“Peyton! Sam!”
She jumps into Sam’s arms, and I laugh at their brotherly-sisterly exchange. She pulls away from Sam and comes over to me; she throws her arms around me, squeezing me tightly.
“Oh, my God, Peyton, I heard about the accident. I’m so glad you’re OK, why didn’t you call me?”
She pulls away, and I go to speak, but Sam stops her.
“Don’t crowd her, Wills.”
She smiles sweetly. “Sorry, it’s just so good to see you guys. It’s been forever,” she says dramatically, and Marlowe strolls into the room.
“Son.” Sam smiles, and they hug. “Peyton, it’s so good to see you again, looking beautiful as ever.”
Marlowe smiles and kisses my hand. Lori comes back into the room with our drinks.
“Let me give you the tour, Peyton.”
I take my drink from her and follow her out of the room. We step into the large open-plan kitchen.
“When I heard my boy had met a girl, I was hoping it wasn’t one of those god-awful groupies him and that band of his surround themselves with. I was pleasantly surprised. You seem to ground him, and with Sam, that’s always a good thing, believe me, honey.”
I nod and smile, suddenly feeling nervous. I take a large gulp of my wine.
“Relax, Peyton, first impressions? I really like you, I haven’t seen him this happy in such a long time. He has his old sparkle back.”
I take a sip of my drink, and she brushes my arm.
“Do you want my advice, sweetie? Don’t let the rock star thing taint your views. I’ve been a rock star wife for almost thirty years now, and I know how it is with the tour buses, groupies, and that vile man J.D.” She shudders as she says his name and I am curious to what she means. Before I can ask, we are interrupted by the arrival of two young men. The one is a paler, thinner version of Sam with dark spiky hair and friendly green eyes; the other is tall with shoulder-length, dark-brown hair, muscular with bronzed skin, blue-green eyes, and a bright, casual smile.
“Peyton, these are my other two sons, Elijah and Brandon.”
The shorter one smiles. “You can call me Eli if you like?”
I find myself smiling back and nod before saying, “I’m Peyton.”
The taller one salutes coolly, and it reminds me so much of Sam.
“Brandon.” His voice is husky like Sam’s and a mixture between English and American, just like Savannah.
“Brandon is also in a band called The Iron Warriors and Elijah is studying medicine,” Lori informs me, and I nod, impressed at the diversity of their lives.
“Do you need a hand in the kitchen, Mum?” Elijah offers.
“No, thank you, sweetie. Could you and your brother go and lay the table please?”
Elijah and Brandon leave the room. A few minutes later, Sam, Marlowe, and two other older men join us. I recognise them from the picture on Sam’s fridge—the other two members of Marlowe’s band The Lightning Bolts.
“I’m Milo Lightman. You must be the very beautiful Peyton.”
He kisses my hand. His voice is deep, raspy, and has a prominent East London accent.
The other man nods and says, “I’m Seth Jones, pleasure to meet you, my love.”
“Sam tells me you’re a tattoo artist, Peyton.” Milo regards me intently and takes a sip of his beer.
“Yes, for my sins!” I joke, and we both laugh.
“You’re way past the mid-life crisis mark, Milo,” Marlowe quips. We spend an hour or so chatting between ourselves easily. The conversation and the booze are flowing freely.
“Dinner is served,” Lori calls from the dining room, and we all make our way into the large open-plan dining room with a large table and a large, impressive, white calla lily centrepiece. Sam hangs back and places his hand at the small of my back.
“Are you having a good time so far, angel?”
I nod; he kisses the top of my head and smiles warmly. We make our way into the dining room and already sat at the table are Savannah and Callum. Fuck.
My face drops as I catch sight of Savannah’s smug face and Callum’s mouth forms a perfect O shape as his eyes lock with mine. Sam grips my waist so tight it verges on pain.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know they were going to be here, baby, I swear,” he whispers in my ear, and I shake my head.
; “It’s fine,” I say tightly, and we take our seats around the table. I am sat between Sam and Willow, and I’m grateful for the seating arrangement.
“I take it you, Savannah, and Callum are already acquainted?” Lori looks at me questioningly, and I nod. I look in their direction and smile as politely as I can manage.
We eat a three-course meal of seared scallops with salad for starters, grilled rib-eye steak with sweet potato mash and green beans for our main course, and vanilla cheesecake for our dessert. The whole meal is delicious, and I didn’t realise how hungry I was until I tucked in.
The conversation around the table is happy and flowing with the exception of the death stares I am getting from Savannah. After we finish dessert, we are moved into the large living area with open fire, large sofas, and exquisite artwork adorning the walls. I excuse myself to use the bathroom. I use the facilities, wash my hands, and as I leave the bathroom, Callum is leaning casually against the wall with his hands in his pockets waiting for me.
“Peyton, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were going to be here, or I would never have agreed to come.”
“How shocked do you think I was when I saw the two of you just sitting there? Acting like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Everyone knows we dated, Callum, you’ve got no idea how awkward and uncomfortable it is for me to be here.”
“Please don’t be like that, baby cakes, I had no idea.”
I recoil at his pet name for me. He takes my hand, but I snatch it away from him.
“Don’t fucking touch me, don’t act like this is normal, Cal, you had to have known we would be here, she is Sam’s sister.”
He puts his hand to his head and says, “I swear I didn’t have a clue. I can’t apologise enough, babe. I thought we agreed to put the past behind us; we were supposed to be friends.”
“That was before you decided you were going to change the goal posts, Callum. I don’t know why I didn’t see it coming. You do it every fucking time,” I say through clenched teeth. He looks at me and changes his tactics. Typical Callum.
“So, it’s definitely serious between you and Sam then? A little bird tells me you’re going on tour with him and his band? That should be interesting. You on a tour bus with a bunch of rock stars. I just can’t imagine it, baby cakes.”
He has the cheek to look amused.
“I know about you and Eden, Callum,” I spit angrily in a moment of madness and his face drops. He is silent, and in the silence, I am instantly transported back to the day I caught Callum cheating on me.
5
Peyton - Twelve Months Ago
I had been wandering around in a daze for two solid weeks. Ever since I lost our baby, I have felt like I have lost my purpose in life. I have felt useless and responsible. Callum had just completely closed himself off from me; he wouldn’t even come near me. I walked into a room, he walked out. It was as if he couldn’t bear to be within a hundred yards of me. He was always working late at the gym and was spending less and less time with me. I had fallen into a deep depression, choosing to sit in the flat day and night with the curtains closed because I couldn’t face anyone. I had lost weight, and when I looked in the mirror, there was a stranger staring back at me. Pale, hollow, drawn, and dark circles under my eyes. I hadn’t slept in two solid weeks because every time I closed my eyes, I relive the moment over and over again. I’d wake up screaming, drenched in sweat, sobbing and alone. Some nights I noticed that Callum didn’t bother coming home at all, and I didn’t know what I was going to do. Maybe Ruby was right, maybe we should have just called it a day and ended it.
It was Saturday, and I was lying on the sofa in my robe staring into space when Ruby stood in front of me with her hands on her hips, frowning.
“Right, Harper. Up now.”
I looked up at her with wide watery eyes and shook my head.
“I can’t, Ruby, please.”
She grabbed me and pulled me to my feet.
“Get in the shower and get dressed; we’re going out. If you’re adamant you’re staying with that prick, then we’re going shopping. Retail therapy always works. You’re buying some sexy underwear, and then I’m dropping you off at Callum’s place. You’re going to order his favourite takeaway, surprise him, and get your relationship back on track.”
I hated to admit it, but she was right. She was always bloody right. Reluctantly, I got off the sofa, and I was surprised there wasn’t a Peyton Harper shape embedded into the sofa. I got dressed, and my clothes were literally falling off me because I had lost so much weight from lack of eating. I tied my hair up in a loose bun, put on some lip-gloss and mascara, and pulled on my jacket. I got out into the living room of our flat and Ruby looked me up and down.
“You’ll do, you skinny bitch! Come on.”
Ruby laughed and dragged me out of the flat. We spent a couple of hours in town, getting our nails, hair, and makeup done. I felt better than I had in a couple of weeks and I was feeling a little more positive about things. I actually had a smile back on my face. Ruby grinned at me.
“You look fabulous, almost back to your usual self, babe.”
We both smiled and climbed back into Ruby’s pink Mini Cooper. She drove me to Callum’s flat, and I was surprised to see Callum’s silver Audi TT parked outside. Ruby pulled up and cut the engine. She turned to face me.
“You look absolutely gorgeous; you’ll definitely knock him dead.” She kissed me on the cheek. “Go get him, tiger!”
She laughed, and I got out of the car, feeling nervous at facing Callum. After being in my own bubble for the past two weeks, it felt good to be me again. I used my key to let myself into Callum’s flat, and I was greeted with clothes strewn all over the living room floor. I heard low grunts coming from the kitchen.
“Cal, babe, it’s me.”
My voice echoed through the flat. As I walked into the kitchen, I was not prepared for the sight in front of me. I saw Callum naked, shamelessly fucking another woman on the kitchen worktop. I stood there, open-mouthed, rooted to the spot at what I was seeing. Callum was grunting with pleasure, and his hands were all over her; she was screaming like a porn star and clawing at his back. I felt like I was going to throw up. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this was not happening.
“What the fuck, Callum!” I screamed, and he didn’t stop.
He carried on, regardless of my interruption, and I felt like I was watching a live porn film in Callum’s kitchen. My nausea passed, and an overwhelming fit of rage boiled up inside me. I grabbed the nearest thing to me, which happened to be a plate, and threw it at him. It missed and smashed all over the floor. He growled as his orgasm took him and practically shoved the girl off the worktop as he spun around to face me. He had no remorse on his face at all, and the Callum I once loved had gone. I was looking into the deep hazel eyes of a stranger, and I launched myself at him. I hit him, and I punched him with everything I had in me.
“How could you do this, Callum? Why?” I screamed. He stood there stock-still and let me hit him. “You’re a fucking prick, Callum.”
He grabbed my wrists in silence and looked me in the eyes.
“We’re over, Peyton, I can’t fucking do this anymore.”
The girl, who was a tall, slim, brunette with wide jade green eyes. She was wearing Callum’s t-shirt, and she brushed his arm.
“Baby, I can go. It’s obvious you two have a lot to chat about, I’ll call you,” she said in husky American lilt.
She called him ‘baby’, what the fuck?
“No, don’t go on my account,” I snapped. “How long, Callum?”
He hung his head as he pulled on his jeans.
“Don’t fucking do this babe, please? Look, Sav, I’ll call you, OK?”
He cupped her face in his hands, and I couldn’t remember when he looked at me that way. My heart felt like it had been completely ripped out of my chest and it was taking all I had not to break down in tears. She kissed him and then she left, leaving Callum shirtless and running his
hands through his messy blonde hair. Something inside me told me I should go after her, drag her around the room by her hair, call her a ‘fucking home wrecker’ but I didn’t have the strength.
“How fucking long?” I asked coldly.
“Jesus Peyton, is it really that fucking important?” he shouted.
“How long?” My voice was shaky. Come on, Harper, don’t let him see you cry, don’t give him the satisfaction. Get it together.
“Not long, a few weeks. You told me you were pregnant, I freaked out, and I shagged her.”
He shrugged nonchalantly as if it was nothing. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, and it was like my heart was being ripped out all over again.
