ten
rutledge
The past few days had not been what I was expecting. I hadn’t even planned on staying this long. My original plan had been to show her the house and leave the next morning. But then my asshole father had to show and I felt the need to make it up to her, to remove that fucking scene from her head.
My new plan had been working, up until all this other shit started happening; unusual sounds coming from around the house, shadows in the night, figures appearing in the day. What the fuck was going on?
Officer Ogg, yeah, there was a fucking Ogg everywhere, since they were one of the founding families. He had told us about high schoolers making abandoned houses their new playground. My grandmother’s house was too far from town for kids to be taking that trek just to throw back a few beers or fuck their girlfriends.
I didn’t buy his story.
Thinking about Peyton, I’d never spent this much time with one woman. Nope, I usually fucked them, not this going around to places shit, looking at houses, eating just about every fucking meal together.
But I was kinda fucking liking it and that scared the shit out of me.
I was finding myself thinking about her more and more when she wasn’t around.
It was fucking ridiculous.
I was being fucking ridiculous.
Again, there must be something wrong with me. Maybe I should call my doctor when I get back to Buffalo.
I sat with my truck idling, staring at the front porch, waiting for her to appear, and thinking about last night when I scared the shit out of her. Fuck, the look on her face when I said run, and how she jumped down from the tailgate, the box of pizza falling to the ground, all the way to her falling flat on her ass. I thought for sure she was going to be pissed, but when I stood over her to make sure she was good and all she cared about was dropping the fucking pizza.
Yeah, I really liked Peyton Morgan.
Today, things changed. I felt it. I knew she felt it too. When I lifted her to see in the cabinet, the earth under our fucking feet shifted. So when our feet settled back on the ground, we weren’t the same anymore.
I blinked a few times trying to get out of my damn head because when she appeared, my breath fucking hitched. This afternoon her clothes had been casual, jeans and a Star Wars tee. Now she was wearing a jean skirt that was short, so short I wasn’t sure it could be called a skirt.
My cock twitched at the sight, and it wasn’t the first time it did that today. I should have taken a few moments back at the hotel when I was in the shower to let a load fly. Because now, it felt like I had a good chance of having blue balls by the end of the night. A pale pink tee stretched across those tits I wanted to get my hands on, and knowing what they felt like pressed against my chest was only making my hands itch more. But it was the boots on her feet that caused a brow to rise. Because what the fuck? The boots were white with a bright pink edge, and covered in colorful flowers that were fucking blinding. I exited my truck, eyes tracking her approach as she descended the stairs.
“Nice fucking boots,” I uttered while making my way around the front of my truck toward the passenger door.
I knew she missed the sarcasm when a smile spread over her face and she glanced down at them like a fucking proud mama. “I know. Aren’t they great? I don’t have work boots. And seeing today how dusty and dirty the house is, how slippery the grass in the back can get...” She eyed me, a grin playing over her mouth. “These will have to do.”
“Maybe you should invest in something like these.” I signaled to my black work boots as I opened the door for her.
I didn’t miss the twitching of her lips as her gaze drifted to my feet. “But they wouldn’t work with my outfit.” Her eyes lifted, a mischievous smile turned up her lips. “I know function before fashion, but I just love these.”
I shook my head with a slight twist of my lips before stating, “Get your ass in the truck.”
Her eyes flashed; resistance even as her ass moved to the truck. She held my glare when she came up next to me. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”
I eyed her skimpy skirt, then the truck. “You gonna be able to get up in there without showing all of Ogg’s Point what’s between those thighs?”
Her face flushed. I watched the color move up her neck to bloom on her cheeks, and fuck, I started to get hard. Again. Something I fought off all damn day. Her lips twisted. “I think I can manage, I have been managing for days just fine, but thanks for the concern.”
“Suit yourself.” I shrugged and watched her struggling to lift her leg into the truck, grabbing onto the handle inside the door frame to help with pulling herself into the seat as she always did. But this time, it wasn’t working and I mumbled, “You were also wearing a hell of a lot more material between your legs.”
She gave me a smirk, and although she might have been able to conquer the feat on her own, I put a hand to the back of her bare thigh, giving her a hoist. My fingers burned after I touched the warmth of her silky skin. When she was in the seat, her eyes came to mine. And there was that look again. The same one that passed between us earlier in the kitchen.
Pull it together, man. You can’t go fucking the buyer of your grandmother’s house.
I noticed her swallow; her eyes were darker, her focus drifted to my lips, her reply sounded painful to say when she whispered, “Thanks.”
I nodded and heavily grumbled, “Buckle up.” Before shutting the door.
My hands never itched to touch a female like they did to touch her. My heart never raced when I looked at what a female was wearing, no matter what slinky shit she had on. And no way in fucking hell did I ever have thoughts of fucking a woman with white boots covered in god-awful bright colored flowers.
Yep, I had some rare fucking disease. Great!
Rounding the front of my truck, I took a huge inhale of the salty air before folding into the driver’s seat. Putting the truck in drive, I made a quick K turn and took off.
Her fingers were toying with the hem of her skirt, and every chance I got, I watched her. Unintentionally, I licked my lips, wanting to trace that hemline with my tongue. Her gaze shifted to me again.
“I’ve been thinking about this burger since you mentioned it,” she offered. There was something in the way she said it that made it clear it wasn’t just the burger she’d been thinking about.
I pulled into Bluff’s parking lot; it was more crowded than I’d been expecting for a Tuesday night. It was then I read the lit up marquee that said, Live Band Tonight.
I decided to test my theory when I asked, “What else occupied your mind since I dropped you off?”
I wanted her to say you. I wanted to hear that she got off in the shower thinking about me. Or maybe, laid on her bed, hand between her legs, fingers deep inside her, whispering my name.
Instead, I watched the pink move up her neck to settle on her cheeks again. She couldn’t hold my stare, her focus moving to the window, but she replied with, “Pumpkin scones, glazed donuts…” A pause before she added on a breathless sigh, “Kitchen cabinets.”
She hadn’t said the words, but I knew by her reaction one thing for certain; she had been right there eye-fucking me all day too.
I winked at her, tipping my lips slightly up before saying, “Let’s go.”
She didn’t move from her spot, looked a little sheepish when she asked, “Could you help me get out?”
I opened my door, smirked and replied, “But I thought you could manage on your own?” I didn’t give her a chance to reply. I exited my truck and made my way around to the passenger side. I opened the door and reached out a hand. “Come on.”
Her fingers curled around mine, but she lost her balance and fell into me. She didn’t have to say anything because I could easily see she was as affected as me with our constant unexpected close contact. Before I finally gave into all these new sensations and fucked her against my truck in a crowded parking lot, I snatched her hand and headed for the door.
Once inside, we were sitting, waiting on our drinks while she was telling me about a diner back home that made great French toast. Our beers were dropped off, orders in, and I kept scanning the place for any familiar faces.
What the fuck?
She stopped mid-sentence when I rose, stalked over to the bar, and approached an average build guy, ball cap covering his bushy hair, with a smug look on his face while dangling his half empty beer bottle from fat fingers.
“You got a problem, buddy?” I grated out when I was within distance.
His eyes quickly came to me, and his face dropped. “No, no, not at all.”
I placed a hand to the bar’s edge, leaned in and growled, “Then you wanna explain why you’re eye fucking my girl?”
“I…” He looked back over to where I’d left Peyton. I followed his gaze, her eyes glued to the interaction. “She’s just a…”
“You got two fucking seconds to answer me before we take this outside and that means my girl doesn’t get to eat till I’m done kicking your fucking ass and that’s only gonna make me even more fucking pissed.”
He dropped his bottle on the bar, causing it to spill over, and raised both hands up in defense. “She’s just a beautiful woman, that’s all,” he finally admitted.
“You don’t think I fucking know that already.” I leaned back and finished, “Now that you got your fill, I suggest you move your fucking gawking elsewhere.” And with that, I made my way back to her.