by Erika Wilde
“Here, you upload the photo to your page,” he said, because it would be much harder to explain on his feed.
She logged into her Facebook account, the private one, and posted the picture with the caption, So happy to have my honey bear with me in San Diego!
He rolled his eyes at the silly pet name she’d given him for the sake of legitimizing their relationship—and no doubt to embarrass him. Except a small part of him was beginning to like being her honey bear, not that he’d ever admit it to her.
* * *
The guesthouse on the Bishops’ property was functional, surprisingly spacious inside, and decorated in a cream-and-pale-blue theme. Located a good hundred yards away from the main house and on the other side of the pool in the backyard, it was far enough away to give him and Peyton privacy, yet close enough to walk over in the morning for breakfast.
There was a cozy, comfortable-looking couch and TV in the living room, and an adjoining dinette area with a refrigerator, stove, and other basic kitchen appliances for them to use. Leo followed Peyton into the one and only bedroom that was furnished with a queen-sized bed, two nightstands, and a dresser with a mirror attached, and another open door led to a bathroom with dual sinks and a walk-in shower that was big enough for two . . . and it wasn’t hard to envision him and Peyton scrubbing each other’s backs or doing other more erotic things inside that stall.
“You can go ahead and put your stuff here in the bedroom with mine,” Peyton said as she reorganized the few items she had in the closet to give him hanging space in case he needed it.
“Thanks,” he said, and it didn’t take him long to unpack his things. He put his clothes in the right-hand dresser drawers, since she’d taken the left side, and his toiletry bag went into one of the empty drawers in the bathroom.
When he walked back into the bedroom, she was retrieving a few items from her side of the dresser. “I’m going to wash my face and change into my pajamas,” she said, turning toward him. “If you’re hungry or thirsty, help yourself to anything you want in the refrigerator or cupboards. My mom went grocery shopping and stocked them with my favorite drinks and snacks, but I’m more than happy to share,” she said with a grin.
She disappeared into the bathroom and he went out to the kitchen to learn what Peyton’s preferred snacks were. There were various cups of yogurt, cheese sticks, a half gallon of milk, and strawberry jelly in the refrigerator, and a few pints of Ben & Jerry’s Peanut Butter World ice cream in the freezer. He opened the cupboard above the counter and grinned to himself as he inventoried the contents: a loaf of white bread, peanut butter, a package of Nutter Butter cookies, and a box of Cap’n Crunch peanut butter cereal. There was also a bag of Cheetos to offset all the sweeter treats.
“See anything that looks good to snack on?” Peyton asked from behind him.
He turned around and his first thought was, fuck yeah, I see something that looks good to snack on. Every inch of her. She’d changed into what she’d deemed her pajamas, which was a soft cotton tank top, sans bra—because he could see the dusty rose hue of her areolas through the thin material, and her nipples had peaked at his slow, deliberate perusal—and a pair of loose-fitting drawstring shorts.
She was petite in height, but she had great-looking legs . . . thighs that appeared smooth and soft and toned calves that had him envisioning the fantasy of picking her up so she could lock her ankles at the small of his back while he bounced her on his cock and snacked on her pert breasts. Even better if they were smeared with the strawberry jelly that was in the refrigerator . . .
He caught the amused quirk to her lips when he lifted his gaze back up to her face, which was now pink and makeup free, which made her look even younger than she was—and even cuter and more adorable than normal.
“I meant what’s in the cupboard,” she said, calling him out on the hungry way he’d just been devouring her.
“Possibly,” he replied, watching as she walked the rest of the way into the kitchen until she was standing a few feet away. The temptation to touch her was strong, but he knew if he so much as caressed his fingers along her arm, it wouldn’t stop there, so he kept his hands to himself.
“I’m sensing a peanut butter theme here,” he said, nodding toward the cupboard. “Except for the Cheetos. Those should be in the ‘which one of these things doesn’t belong’ category.”
She laughed, the soft, husky sound testing Leo’s restraint not to touch her even more. “True. I don’t want to be too predictable.”
He was coming to learn that nothing about Peyton Bishop was predictable at all, and that was just another thing he really liked about her. She said and did the unexpected, no filter or pretense. What you saw with Peyton was exactly what you got, and it was a refreshing change from other women he’d come across since Amanda.
She finally moved away from him and opened the refrigerator, bending to retrieve a chilled bottle of water while giving him a glimpse of the perfect, heart-shaped curves of her ass. He barely managed to swallow a groan and wondered how he was going to survive a week in such close quarters with her.
Turning to face him, she twisted off the cap and took a long drink, clearly unaware of the turmoil she was putting him through. “By the way, I hate to ditch you tomorrow, but I have a bridal shower to go to with my mom for my cousin, the one who’s getting married next weekend. No boys allowed,” she added with a cheeky grin.
“That’s fine.” The last thing he wanted to do was go to a frilly bridal shower. “I’ll just pretend that I’m going out sight-seeing for the day and be back by dinnertime.”
“That works.” She tried to stifle a sleepy yawn but failed. “My body is still on New York time and three hours ahead, so I think I’m going to turn in for the night if you don’t mind.”
“You go ahead. I’ll probably pull out my laptop and get some work done,” he told her. “Is there an extra pillow and blanket I can use to sleep on the couch?”
She tipped her head slightly. “You’ll barely fit on the couch. When you get tired, you can crash in the bed next to me. There’re plenty of room and I really don’t steal the covers, if that’s your concern,” she teased.
He raised a brow. “You stealing the blankets is the last thing I’m worried about,” he said meaningfully.
She grinned, her eyes sparkling naughtily. “Well, in that case, I promise not to take advantage of you while you’re sleeping.”
He shook his head and laughed. “Go to sleep, Pixie.”
“Good night, Honey Bear.” She blew him a playful kiss before sashaying that tempting ass all the way to the bedroom and closing the door behind her.
Resisting the urge to say the hell with it and follow her, he instead grabbed his laptop, made himself comfortable on the couch, and booted up the computer. He spent the next few hours going through his emails, approving employee payroll, and addressing work-related items, until he knew for sure that Peyton was out for the night and he was finally tired enough to fall asleep in the same bed with her.
He rubbed at his bleary eyes and set his laptop on the small side table, then made sure the front door to the guesthouse was locked before turning off the living room lamp on his way to the bedroom. Once inside, he quietly used the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and stripped off his clothes and put on a pair of gym shorts to sleep in. He switched off the light so as not to wake Peyton and opened the door again.
Even in the dark, he could see her figure huddled beneath the covers on the right, so he carefully eased his body onto the mattress on the left side and breathed a sigh of relieve when she didn’t so much as stir.
I can do this, he told himself as he let his body completely relax. He could sleep in the same bed as Peyton and be a gentleman about it. And he managed to maintain that oath until he woke up in the morning to find that Peyton had drifted over to his side of the bed and made that promise nearly impossible to keep. Her backside was spooned against his chest, stomach, and thighs, and Jesus fuck, she was making the so
ftest, sexiest sounds in her sleep while rocking her ass against the stiff length of his erection tenting the material of his cotton shorts.
“Leo, more,” she murmured as her hips continued to circle and move as though she had a cock lodged deep inside of her . . . or wished she did.
He gritted his teeth. She was having a sex dream about him, but there was no way he was going to do anything with her unless she was completely lucid and knew exactly what she was doing. Most likely, she’d wake up and scurry away from him in embarrassment.
“Peyton,” he said gruffly, not trusting himself to put his hands on her, even to shake her conscious.
“Leo,” she sighed again as she arched her back, aligning her bottom against his rock-hard dick in a perfect position to fuck her from behind. Which wasn’t going to happen. Not like this.
Without thinking, he grabbed her hip, hard and firm enough to stop her grinding. “Peyton,” he said, his tone louder and sharper this time.
He felt her body jerk against him as he startled her awake, and then as if realizing where she was and what she’d been doing, she stilled. “What?” she asked tentatively.
He smirked, even though she couldn’t see his face. “You’re doing that thing again,” he said, his tone wry.
“Mmm, what thing?” she whispered, and he wasn’t sure if she seriously didn’t know or if she was pretending she had no clue what he was referring to.
So, he decided to be blunt. “Rubbing yourself all over my cock.” Just like that day in college, except now there was no girlfriend to keep him honest. “And if you don’t stop wiggling your ass against my dick and move to your side of the bed, things are going to get down and dirty, and fast. I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to behave myself,” he admitted honestly.
She was silent, still not putting that much-needed distance between them and removing all temptation from his reach. Instead, she said quietly, seriously, “What if I don’t want you to behave?”
Chapter Five
With her backside aligned to Leo’s front, Peyton could feel his chest rise and fall as he breathed slow and steady right behind her, not to mention being acutely aware of other arousing things nudging the crease of her ass. She bit her bottom lip to hold back an appreciative groan. Nope, it hadn’t been just a dream that Leo had an impressive cock . . . It was irrefutable reality and her pussy ached to be filled with every single hard inch of him.
Even though his fingers were still gripping her hip, he didn’t answer her question that was a clear invitation for him to misbehave. Heat emanated from his hard, strong body, as did the intoxicating male scent that was laced with eighty percent lust and twenty percent restraint. He was obviously trying to be chivalrous, but it was the last thing she wanted. If she only had the next week with the one and only guy she’d been hung up on since college, then why couldn’t they both enjoy the physical attraction between them as a benefit?
Before he moved away and the opportunity was lost, Peyton took the hand he still had on her hip and slid it beneath the hem of her shirt until his warm palm covered a breast. “I want you, Leo,” she said, closing her eyes and laying it all on the line. “So much. Please touch me.”
With a defeated-sounding groan, he buried his face against the side of her neck and fondled her breast. “I can’t fucking resist you,” he growled and lightly rolled and pinched her nipple between his fingers.
She gasped, shocked by the tingling pain that quickly ebbed into a breathtaking pleasure that shot all the way down to that needy spot between her legs. “Then don’t.”
With those words, she felt a tangible shift in him, the body behind hers taking control as those alpha tendencies he’d told her about came out to play. As he continued to pluck her hard nipples, his free hand curved around her throat, then cupped her chin, tipping her face back so that his mouth was at her ear and she couldn’t easily move her head. She didn’t panic, because she trusted him and because her body responded to that dominant move with a hot, liquid rush of desire that soaked her panties and made her sex throb.
She’d already been aroused and close to orgasming from her sex dream starring Leo, and now she was excruciatingly desperate for release. Grabbing his wrist, she tugged his hand away from her breast and shamelessly guided it lower, shivering as his hot, ragged, damp breaths filled her ear.
“Touch me and make me come,” she begged, just as their hands reached the waistband of her shorts and panties. “I need it so bad.”
“Take off your shorts and underwear,” he said, and she didn’t hesitate to obey his firm, husky request.
He didn’t release her head from where he’d tucked it against his shoulder, which kept her still spooned in front of him, but she managed to shove both garments down her lower body and kick them off, while Leo tossed the covers aside, too. She felt a rush of cool air on the hot, bare skin she’d just exposed, and goose bumps rose on her flesh.
“Good girl,” he murmured, softly kissing her cheek right before he leaned his chest against her back until her breasts were pressed against the cool sheets, while he used one of his legs to separate hers from behind until her thighs were wide apart on the bed.
The assertive position was hot as hell and added another layer of excitement to the inescapable need building inside of her even though he hadn’t taken his own shorts off yet.
She expected his free hand to continue where they’d left off before he’d pinned her to the mattress, but instead he flattened her palm on her stomach and pushed it down toward her sex, confusing her with the unexpected switch.
She tried to turn her head to look back at him, but couldn’t. “Leo?” she asked, not sure what he expected her to do.
“Slide your fingers through your pussy and rub your clit, nice and slow,” he told her, his voice a low, sinful order in her ear. “Do that for me, and I guarantee to make you come so hard you’ll see stars.”
A soft puff of laughter escaped her. “That’s quite a promise considering I’m going to be the one touching myself.”
He chuckled, the sound more than a little wicked. “Trust me, Pixie,” he said, leaving her to the task as he hooked his hand beneath one of her knees and raised her outer leg higher, opening her up and twisting her body a bit more for whatever carnal pleasures he had planned.
While she played with herself and reawakened that bundle of nerves, he trailed his fingers up the inside of her thigh, slowly and sensually, and her core clenched in anticipation when he reached the apex. She was soaked with arousal, her entire body attuned to his touch, and she started to pant with the excruciating need gathering force with every stroke across her clit.
“This is where it’s gonna get good,” he rasped against her neck.
Two long fingers slid inside her from behind, and her hips brazenly arched and rolled back to take them deeper, and he obliged by filling her. He curved his fingers, and as he withdrew them, his knuckles grazed a sensitive spot inside her that pushed her closer to orgasm. She shuddered as a breathless, pleasurable moan rolled up from her throat.
She felt him smile against the curve of her shoulder. “You like that, baby?”
She nodded jerkily against his hold on her chin. “Do it again.”
He chuckled, even as he fucked her slow and deep with his fingers once again. “Greedy girl.”
Oh, she was so greedy for this, for him, and she didn’t care. Not when the promise of the most intense climax of her life beckoned just out of her reach. Her fingers doubled their efforts, and the climb toward the peak of ecstasy began.
“That’s it, baby,” he coaxed her, his mouth leaving damp, suckling kisses along her neck and chafing her skin with beard burn. “I want to feel you come around my fingers.”
He bit the tendon in her shoulder, hard enough that all of her nerve endings reacted, and she cried out as her body began to quake with her release and her inner muscles pulsed tight around his pumping fingers. When the wild orgasm finally ebbed, he released his hold on her an
d she flopped forward on the bed, her eyes closed and her entire body lax and flushed with satisfaction. Who knew that nice guy Leo was such a hot, dirty man in the bedroom?
He gave her bare ass a playful smack that made her grunt in response, which caused him to chuckle. “Told you it was going to get good.”
It had been phenomenal. The only thing that could have made it any better was having his thick shaft thrusting inside of her instead of his fingers. “Cocky much?” she muttered, though she was smiling into the pillow.
He leaned over and kissed her cheek oh-so-sweetly, and she sighed in contentment. “Only when I know I’m right . . . which is pretty much all the time,” he teased.
* * *
Leo headed into the bathroom before he did something stupid . . . like fuck Peyton without a condom. She was soft and pliant from her orgasm, her smooth bare ass on display, and it would have been so easy to push her legs apart from behind and this time use his cock to make her come.
But the truth was, he didn’t have any protection with him. He wasn’t the kind of guy who had casual affairs, and he didn’t carry a condom around with him in his wallet for “just in case” occasions, nor did he keep them in his toiletry bag thinking he was going to get lucky when he was out of town for business. For him, having sex was a thought-out process, and one he was usually prepared for when the time came to sleep with a woman.
This morning was one of those very few times where he wished he’d stashed a condom somewhere to use. Because as he stripped off his gym shorts and his thick, aching erection sprang free, throbbing with the need for release—preferably within the tight clasp of Peyton’s body wringing him dry—he knew that his hand was going to have to jack him off because there was no way he’d be able to have breakfast with her parents without getting a boner every time he looked at Peyton and remembered how beautifully uninhibited she’d been as he’d pushed her over the edge.
