by Amiee Louise
She takes my hand. “He is just jealous because you’ve quite clearly moved on and he is stuck dealing with his mistake, fuck him.”
We both laugh, and she gets up. “I’ll get us some drinks. Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.”
As Ruby vacates her seat, J.D joins me. Great.
“Peyton,” he snarls.
“What the fuck do you want, J.D?” I snap. I am so not in the mood for his bullshit tonight. He cocks his eyebrow.
“I wanted to congratulate you,” he leans in and whispers in my ear. To the observer, he is just leaning in to kiss me on the cheek, but he whispers, “Don’t think I can’t see what you’re doing, I know you’re trapping him.”
What the fuck? I am getting sick and tired of his stupid mind games.
“How the fuck did you work that one out? I didn’t force him to make me pregnant, it just happened. I’m getting sick of your twisted fucking mind games, J.D.. When are you going to get it into your thick head that Sam and me are for keeps?”
He is about to reply when I see Sam approach, and it is as if someone has turned on a switch with J.D.. One minute he is dripping poison in my ear the next he is being sickly sweet. He is a good actor, and his performance is Oscar-worthy.
“Congratulations, darling, I am so happy for you and Sam.”
He smiles a little too brightly. He gets up, and Sam takes his place at my side.
“I’ve been aching to get you all to myself all night, angel,” he rasps and puts his arm around me. I rest my head on his shoulder.
“You look amazing in that dress, babe; I can’t wait to strip you out of it later.” I laugh, and Sam nuzzles my neck. “God, I fucking love you, angel,” he slurs, and his smile disarms me.
“Are you drunk, Mr. Newbolt?” I raise my eyebrows, and he bites his lip in a roguish way.
“Maybe just a little tiny bit.”
He closes one eye and chuckles to himself. Marlowe approaches and smiles warmly at both of us.
“Would you mind if I borrowed my son for a moment, Peyton?”
I shake my head. “No, of course not, go ahead, he is all yours.”
Sam gets to his feet and leans in to kiss me.
“I’ll be right back, angel.” He winks and leaves with Marlowe.
I get to my feet and go back inside the large living space. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Seb and Willow looking cosy in the corner of the room; he is standing close to her, his large frame towering over her tiny one. I hear the deep rumble of his laugh and her soft chuckle. I almost feel like I am intruding on an intimate moment, but I can’t tear my eyes away. He reaches a tattooed arm out to her, tucking a strand of her hair away from her face then he leans down and kisses her on the lips. I am so happy that Seb followed my advice. He deserves to be happy, and he is such a kind, sweet, gentle, loyal, and genuine man.
When I finally tear my eyes away from Seb and Willow, I see Brody and Callum walking down the stairs. Brody whispers to Callum, and Callum looks as if he has seen a ghost. He shakes Brody’s hand robotically and rushes off sheepishly. I narrow my eyes at Brody and approach him. He has his hands tucked casually in his pockets, and a cocky grin plastered all over his face.
“What did you say to him, Brody?”
Brody feigns innocence and shrugs. “Nothing whatsoever, babe, we just had a nice friendly man to man chat.”
Something in the way he looks at me tells me that is far from the truth. He pulls me in for a hug.
“Don’t worry, let’s just say he won’t be bothering you again, babe.” He winks and pulls away from our embrace. “I wanted to congratulate you and Sam on the baby; you’re so good for each other. I wanted to take this opportunity to apologise for the way I reacted in the beginning, the night of the album launch. I was in a bad place, I-I lose my shit when I’m on drugs. I say stuff I don’t mean, I do stuff I regret. That night on the tour bus was probably one of the best nights I have had in a long time, I felt like I was myself again. You make me that way, Peyton, I can be myself around you, and I’ll always be grateful to you for that. I know I’m no good, I lead people astray, but you make me want to be better. Let’s be clear I-I don’t fancy you or anything and I definitely don’t want to get into your pants. You’re the first girl I’ve ever wanted to just be friends with and not fuck!”
My eyes glaze over at Brody’s words, and it warms my heart to think that I make him want to be a better person.
“The other boys don’t know what happened on the bus that night between us. I haven’t told them, and I’m grateful that you didn’t either. That night felt pure, and I saw clearly for the first time ever. I don’t want to be that man anymore, Peyton. I don’t want to constantly be off my face, shagging random birds and waking up wondering how the fuck they got in my bed. You see me; I mean you really see me, the man I am in here.” He puts his hand to his chest, and I can see it in his face that he is struggling so I brush his arm to reassure him. “I was such a prick to you in the beginning, and I’ll never be able to apologise enough for that, but you’re a close friend, Peyton. You’re family to me now, to us all; you’re one of us. You brought Sam back to life, you made him whole again.”
I am actually crying now, and I curse my pregnancy hormones to hell for making me react so strongly. I will always be grateful for that night on the bus with Brody because it showed me a different side of him and made me see him in a completely new light. Brody pulls me in for a massive bear hug.
“I can’t wait to be an uncle,” he says against my shoulder, and I chuckle softly. I pull away from him and give him a watery smile.
“This baby is going to be so spoilt!”
He strokes my stomach gently. “Definitely. Hey, kid, I’m your uncle Brody, I can’t wait to meet you.”
He laughs in a childlike way, and I can’t help but wonder what sort of childhood Brody had. I know his mum died of a heroin overdose because Sam told me, but I never really found out the whole story. I figure now is a good a time as any to probe further because he seems in a talkative mood.
“Brody?”
His hand is still on my stomach.
“Hmm?”
“What happened after your mum died?”
He moves his hand and looks at me. His face filled with something that resembles sorrow and regret.
“That’s a story for another time, babe.”
He winks and my mum approaches, ending our conversation.
“Sweetie?”
Brody smiles. “I’ll catch you later, Peyton.”
He winks at me and casually saunters off. My mum looks puzzled.
“What was that all about?”
I shake my head.
“Nothing, mum, that’s Brody, he is the guitarist in Sam’s band.”
She nods and eyes the length of my body.
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner that you were pregnant with Sam’s baby?”
I hang my head actually feeling ashamed that I kept the baby secret for so long.
“I-I was in a bad place, Mum. I was certain he was going to leave me once he found out, so I kept putting it off.”
Her face is filled with concern, and she hugs me.
“Oh, my darling girl, not every man is like Callum. Surely you can see that now?”
I nod, willing myself not to cry again.
“I was terrified he’d run, but he is over the moon. I feel so ashamed that I kept it from him. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner, we wanted to wait for the right moment, tell everyone together.”
She smiles brightly.
“I understand, sweetie. I’m so happy I’m going to be a grandmother, but I want to be Nana, not Granny. Granny makes me sound old!” We both laugh, and she kisses me on the cheek. “Your father and I are going to go back to the hotel soon.”
“Thank you so much for coming, Mum, I miss you.” I see her lip tremble. “Don’t start crying, Mum, please, you’ll set me off.”
“I’m so proud of you, my darling; you’re m
aking your father and me grandparents. It looks like I’m going to have to buy another hat for your wedding.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Mum, I promise.”
She hugs me and kisses me on the cheek. “Love you, Peyton.”
I smile. “I love you too, Mum.”
She pulls away and leaves me standing in Lori and Marlowe’s living room. For the first time in a long time, I am actually genuinely happy and looking forward to the future.
15
Peyton
The next morning, I wake to the sound of Sam vomiting in the bathroom. Cole had driven us home around two AM this morning, and Sam was completely wasted. I am so glad he had a good time, and I have to say, he makes an adorable drunk! Cole and the boys had put him to bed, and I was grateful for the help.
Today is the day we leave for the boys’ ten-year anniversary gig in Las Vegas, the city of Sin. I have only ever seen Vegas on T.V, and I am curious to know what it is actually like. I have sorted cover for the shop, and I know I have left it in the capable hands of Seb, Parker, and Harley while I am gone. I did mine and some of Sam’s packing when we got home this morning. I feel rested and ready for our ten-hour flight on the boy’s private jet. I pull on Sam’s t-shirt and walk to the bathroom. Sam is hugging the toilet, a term that Ruby and I used to call ‘worshipping at the porcelain throne and praying to the porcelain God’.
“Baby, are you OK?”
He groans and covers his eyes with his hands.
“Fuck me, angel, I’m hungover to shit. I’m never drinking ever again.”
I laugh, and I can’t recall the number of times I have said the exact same phrase when I am suffering from a killer hangover.
Two hours later, Sam and I are at the airport, and after being almost mobbed by a crowd of Rancid Vengeance fans, we are ready to board our flight to Vegas. Sam is wearing a black hoodie, dark blue jeans, biker boots, a black beanie hat, and aviator sunglasses—the epitome of a rock star. As we walk to the boys’ private jet, the sight in front of me takes me aback. The aeroplane is sleek and black from the outside with the band logo emblazoned on the side and the name ‘Air Vengeance’ in large silver lettering; it looks extremely impressive.
As we step on board, I am in awe of what I see. The interior of the jet resembles a large living room. It is decorated in masculine black, white, and gunmetal grey tones with matching furniture and accessories. It has two, large, dark-grey sofas opposite each other on either side of the plane, with a large oblong shaped table in front of it, which seems to be bolted to the floor. There is a large flat screen T.V mounted on the wall, four black leather recliners in a line towards the front of the plane. As I move further inside, I am greeted with a small bathroom complete with modern chrome and black power shower cubicle, a toilet, and a small square glass sink. There is a bedroom with a large double bed and a black bedside table with three drawers underneath. Sam comes behind me and wraps his arms around my waist.
“So what do you think then, angel? Do you approve of our extravagant purchases?” He smirks. Smart arse.
“I most definitely approve, baby, this is amazing.”
His stubble tickles as he nuzzles my neck. “Glad you like it, babe, we’re taking off in the next ten minutes, it takes ten hours to get to Vegas. They’re eight hours behind, so it should still be early when we get there.”
I yawn, and Sam chuckles softly.
“Tired, angel?” I nod. “Hold on until take off and you can sleep for a while? How does that sound?”
“Perfect.”
He kisses me tenderly on the lips, and we settle in for take-off. Soon after we are in the air, the seatbelt signs are turned off, and Sam reaches over me to unclip my seatbelt.
“Come on, angel; let me take you to bed.”
He pulls me to my feet, and I stumble into his hard chest. He catches me before I fall and our eyes lock.
“I need you to fuck me, Sam,” I whisper seductively in his ear, and he cocks his pierced eyebrow.
“Do you fancy joining the mile-high club then, angel?” he rasps, and I nod.
I feel my pussy clench with white-hot lust at his words. He pulls me towards the bedroom and the other boys wolf whistle and cheer as we walk past them. Sam flips them the bird and closes the door behind us. His green eyes are hooded and blazing with pure carnal lust. He backs me towards the wall and traps me with his hands on either side of my head.
“Sam,” I whisper, and he lifts my leg, wrapping it around his waist.
“Do you want me to fuck you hard and fast or slow and gentle?”
I feel so desperate for him to take me. I am panting with desire, and he hasn’t even touched me.
“Hard and fast, Sam, please.”
I bite my lip, and he reaches down, making me release my lip from my teeth.
“Patience, angel,” he says huskily, and I feel liquid heat begin to pool between my legs. He lifts me up effortlessly in his arms. “Wrap those gorgeous legs around my waist, baby.”
I do as he says, and he crashes his lips on mine. A moan escapes as he moves fluidly across the room and drops me gently on the bed. He climbs on top of me and unbuckles his belt. I arch my back up off the bed, desperate for my release. He begins to remove my clothes carefully until I am lying naked underneath him. He takes off his belt, wraps it around my wrists, and fastens me to the metal bed frame. He unzips his jeans, admiring his handiwork.
“Tell me if it’s too much, angel, and I’ll stop.”
I nod and am so turned on. He strips until he is gloriously naked, and I lick my lips at the sight of his taut, sculpted muscles. He reminds me of a Greek god with his perfect statuesque body. He begins to kiss a trail down my body from my breasts to my swollen stomach and skips over the part I want him to touch the most.
“Sam.”
He blows cool air on my pussy, and I writhe beneath him.
“Keep still, angel, I’ll take care of you.” He moves lower, and his velvet tongue sweeps up my slit. “Mmm, you taste so fucking sweet.” He breathes against me, and his stubble tickles my inner thigh. “Tell me what you need, angel.”
“You, I need you, Sam, I want you to fuck me hard and fast.”
He chuckles softly. “I love it when you talk dirty to me, angel.”
He strokes his already erect cock and positions the head against my soaking wet opening and pushes roughly into me. I gasp at the feeling of him filling me to the hilt. He pistons in and out, driving deeper with each thrust.
“Oh, God, Sam. Harder. Fuck me harder,” I cry out.
“Jesus, angel, you’re going to be the death of me.”
He lifts my legs over his shoulders, and I feel him so deep inside me, hitting my g-spot with each hard drive.
“Oh, Sam.”
He increases his hard thrusts.
“Tell me you like feeling my cock deep inside you.”
I bite my lip.
“Oh, God, I love feeling your hard cock inside me, fuck me harder.” I see a thin sheen of sweat across Sam’s forehead. “What’s wrong, rock star, can’t keep up the pace?” I tease.
He cocks his pierced eyebrow, slowing his pace. “Never underestimate me, angel, I can go all night.”
He winks, leaning down to unbuckle his belt holding my wrists prisoner. He frees my hands and scoops me up from the bed, as he moves across the room pressing my back against the wall. He rams his cock deep inside me, pushing me further up the wall, creating a delicious friction. He nuzzles my neck and nips a trail with his teeth down to my collarbone.
“Sam, please, I need you, I need you to make me come!”
He increases his thrusts again, and I am so close to finding my release.
“Fuck me, angel, I’m so fucking close.”
He pistons in and out one final time and we both find our release at the same time. He growls, and I cry out, “Fuck, Sam.”
He stills for a moment, coming down from his orgasm.
“Still think I can’t keep up th
e pace, angel?” he rasps, and I chuckle mischievously.
“I never doubted you, babe.”
He nips my sensitive nipple with his teeth.
“You little minx!”
He laughs and moves across the room with me in his arms. He pulls out of me and lays me down on the bed. He climbs in beside me and shifts me, so I am tucked under his arm. I lay my head on his chest, and he lazily strokes my hair. Soon, I am a slave to sleep.
I am woken by Sam’s soft, raspy voice whispering in my ear, “Angel.”
