twenty-three
peyton
We spent three hours looking at paint swatches. I was pretty sure Rut had slipped into a coma.
The building materials for the kitchen were ordered. We didn’t get floors. Rut reminded me with a historical house we had to keep the original floors, but a sanding and stain was okay. Paint colors weren’t hard because I’d already researched colors before we went shopping. Still, it was an entire day we spent shopping. Rut had been a really good sport about it.
Walking into the parking lot, I glanced up at him. “We’re done. That wasn’t so bad, right?” Keeping the laughter from my tone was hard. I’m pretty sure he growled.
“If you hadn’t let me grope you for a few minutes in the back aisle, I might have fucking died in there. Not too bad, Peaches? I may just be fucking traumatized from that shit.”
“Oh, Rut. You turn my head with your sweet talk.” He did though. He really did. “At least I know for future shopping trips I need to plan for some groping time.”
“And skirts.” He looked down at me, and added in a serious tone. “If that is anything like you normally shop, you need to wear skirts when we shop.”
I gasped, smacked his arm, though I wasn’t sure if I was more outraged or turned on. Who was I kidding? I made a note to self, I needed more skirts. “Fair enough.”
We reached his truck. “Hey,” I said. He looked over. “I love you.”
He grinned and winked at me.
“Are you hungry?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I saw the heat flash in his eyes.
He snatched me up by my waist, I squealed, his lips a hairbreadth from mine, he whispered, “If we’re talking about your pussy, I’m always hungry for that. If we’re talking about food, yeah, it’d be nice if you fed your man after that shit.” He jerked his head to the store behind us.
His words left me breathless. It was a struggle to answer him. “How about I cook dinner first…” Even with all the times we’d had sex, I still found it difficult to talk so frank with him. “We can have dessert after.”
He put me down next to his truck, his eyes got heavy, his body pressed mine against the cool metal, and he asked, “What’s for dessert?”
I held his stare when I replied softly, “Me.”
He grinned, “Come on, baby, you can say it?” He egged me on, a smirk firmly placed on his lips.
My gaze drifted to his chest. His finger to my chin lifted it back to his. Licking my suddenly parched lips I said, “My...” I couldn’t do it.
His hand drifted down, landing right between my legs, and he cupped me and asked, “What’s this?”
Lust replaced nerves, the word falling from my mouth on a moan. “My pussy.”
A smile pulled at his lips before he roughly said, “That’s my girl.”
***
We walked through the produce aisle for salad ingredients; I didn’t know how to make much, but I made a killer spaghetti and meatballs. My mom’s recipe. A sad smile touched my lips. It was because of them that I wanted the kitchen to be perfect because it was where we had spent all of our time.
Rut and I were selecting the ground beef when I felt the hair at my nape stir. Glancing behind me, there was no one there, but the sensation lingered. A lot like the day I was heading for the rental car. I rubbed at my nape, focused back on the meats, but it wouldn’t go away. I looked behind me again, scanned the store.
“What’s wrong?” Rut’s hard voice interrupted me.
Chancing another glance, I turned my focus on him. “Just a weird sensation, like someone’s watching me.”
His eyes quickly moved to around the aisle we were in, scanning, his brows scrunched, he looked around intently and muttered, “You have this feeling before?”
“Yeah. The day I went for the rental car. There wasn’t anyone around, but it was strong enough I almost ran to the travel agency.”
His hard eyes came to mine, the blue was almost black, and his voice was firm when he asked, “That the day I asked you what was wrong and you gave me the lame fucking excuse you were tired?”
Busted. “Actually, the day I told you I was tired was the day Jack bruised me and I didn’t want to tell you that over the phone.”
He moved the cart from in front of me, and off to the side, got in my face and told me, “Don’t lie to me again, Peaches. What we got going is pretty damn good, so let’s not start that shit. Something happens, you tell me, yeah?”
He wasn’t wrong, and still his words stung. “I only didn’t tell you because there wasn’t anything you could do about it…” He opened his mouth, but I held up my hand. “That said, I feel the same way as you, so I won’t lie again.”
“First, there’s always something I can do about any situation, no matter where I am. Second...” He smacked my ass and said, “Let’s get this shit done.” He brought the cart in front of me as he continued to scan the area.
I wasn’t sure what it said about me, but even as my ass tingled from his light slap, an ache started between my legs. “Did you just spank me?”
His hard eyes came to mine, but they softened. “Baby, you know as well as I do that that wasn’t the first fucking time, and it surely won’t be the last.” He smacked my ass, again, and finished, “Now let’s get the rest of the shit we need.”
I didn’t move. My feet were rooted to the dirty tiled floor. He was glancing around, reached for a bag of chips and threw them in the cart, but he felt my heated gaze when his attention shifted back to me. “I want it clear that I lied to you about Jack because you’ve had enough shit in your life. I didn’t want to be the cause of adding more. Perhaps my method was wrong but my motives were in the right place.” I moved closer, got up on my tiptoes before I added, “As far as spanking me in public...really?”
He dropped his head so we were nose to nose. “Get used to it, Peaches. It’s the way I am. And you’re mine, and if I want to touch you in public, I will. And that includes spanking your ass.” He paused, his eyes turned dark before adding, “Yeah, I might have a lot of shit in my life, but I got you and that’s not shit, baby, that’s good. Real fucking good. So do not ever fucking hold something from me ʼcause you think you’re doing me a favor, ʼcause you fucking ain’t. Got it?”
The man was domineering, pigheaded even, but I did love him. Holding his hard stare I softly said, “What we have is fucking good, so yes I got it.”
Then he walked away, like we didn’t just a have a poignant moment. Shaking my head, even as I grinned, I followed after him.
“You wanna grab some ice cream too?” he asked a few aisles down.
“Yeah, if you want.”
Rut opened the freezer door, grabbed a half gallon of rocky road, and threw it in the cart. I wasn’t used to a man like him, his mannerisms, his way of speaking and acting but I loved it. I loved him. I loved that I could yield to him because he had my best interests at heart, but it scared me too because if he left, if his demons won, I knew I’d never recover.
I didn’t let myself think about that. Instead, my thoughts drifted to Rutledge spanking me, more specifically doing so in private. The thought turned the ache to a throbbing. Aroused now I said, “I don’t like rocky road.” I actually did like rocky road.
He stopped, turned and looked to me as if I just morphed into an alien. “You what?”
I couldn’t lie, he had an intense stare, it could weaken people, but now I was on a mission. “I don’t like rocky road. I mean, what kind of name is that for ice cream anyway? Rocky road. It’s ridiculous and the nuts get caught in my teeth. I hate that.” That wasn’t a lie, the name or the nuts, but I ate around them.
The expression was still on his face when he ordered, “So, eat around them.”
I smiled inwardly that we thought the same, to him I said, “Eat around them?” I stopped the cart and glared. “I never thought of that. Holy shit, what an idea.”
When he turned this time, he was a few steps ahead of me. The expression on his face was hard. “You giving me shit, Peaches?”
I was. I was deliberating provoking the man. I cocked my hip when I answered, “Yes, I am Rutledge.”
He started toward me with long strides. A man on a mission. He got close to me and put his hands on the cart.
“You don’t want the fucking rocky road ice cream?” He gestured to the now melting container in the cart.
I was so turned on at the moment. Holding his stare was easy when I replied, “No. I do not want the fucking rocky road ice cream.”
His face softened, he picked up the container, put it back in the freezer, then looked to me. “See baby, that’s all you needed to say.” He waved a hand to the display and offered, “Pick whatever the fuck you want.”
I waited a beat then stepped past him and reached for the rocky road, dropped it back in the cart. I smiled. “Ready?”
I started down the aisle, my legs weak, my body throbbing. When I didn’t sense him next to me, I looked back to find him in the same spot, but it was the look in his eyes that made me wet.
“You coming?” That was offered a bit breathlessly.
His brows scrunched, lips slightly twisted with an impending smile and said, or more like shouted to me, “You give me fucking shit about smacking your ass a few aisles back.” He threw a hand behind him. “And now you give me shit about the fucking ice cream I picked, only to pick the very one I did.” He crossed his arms. “Is that what just fucking happened?”
I walked back down the aisle, since I didn’t need the population of Ogg’s Point hearing our conversation, though I was sure there were many with their ears tuned it. Stopping at his side, I held his bewildered glare.
“Give and take, honey. I realize the kind of man you are, but you gave just a little, so I am giving it back.”
“Un-fucking-believable,” he muttered and started down the aisle.
I called after him, the real reason behind my behavior. “If you find my behavior problematic, maybe you should offer some discipline later.”
He stopped dead in his tracks. He slowly rotated on one foot. And when his eyes hit mine, they were heated and intense. His voice was deep, rough, and almost scary when he said, “Noted.”
I was so aroused I almost stepped into the freezer. Instead, I moved like I was on fire, passing him with a smile. “It’s getting late. We really should get a move on.” I didn’t wait for a reply and made a beeline it to the checkout.