Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Hartford
It bothers me that Paxton’s brothers have most likely figured out we’re sleeping together. But I had a feeling they would, to be honest. Just one glance at me and you'll see it written all over my face.
It's beyond my control.
So, I head into the kitchen to hide. Over the years, I’ve escaped to this room in the house many times. It still looks mostly the same, though they’ve updated to modern stainless-steel appliances that blend with the rustic charm of farmhouse aesthetics.
From her position at the farmhouse sink, rinsing lettuce, Carol looks over her shoulder at me. “If you can’t handle the heat, come into the kitchen,” she says with a smile at her own little joke.
I stop at the island and rest my elbows on the marble. “I thought once high school was over, they wouldn’t tease each other as much.”
Carol laughs, the crow’s feet deepening around her green eyes. “Boys will forever be boys. It’s in their bones.” She removes a glass salad bowl from the cabinet and brings it over to the island. “One day, they’ll grow up more, but not until they each find that special someone who completes them.”
“Yeah,” is my quiet answer, because all I can think about now is Paxton finding someone special. “Need some help with the salad?”
“Sure,” she says. “There can never be too many cooks in my kitchen.”
I’m tasked with chopping vegetables while she whips up a homemade vinaigrette dressing.
With each slice of my knife, my anxiety grows to epic proportions.
What if he were to meet someone? He’d bring her for family dinners.
Would she appreciate the rooster chandelier over the dining room table or the farmhouse pictures on the walls?
What would happen to our friendship? Would he toss me away?
I can’t handle the thought of that.
“Hey,” Anya says as she smiles at me, walking into the kitchen. “Smells amazing, Mom.” She snatches a roll off the rack, and Carol swats at her hand.
“Why don’t you two go upstairs to your room until dinner? The boys are in full force today, it seems,” Carol says, and I glance over at Anya.
“You look like you need to talk,” Anya says to me, hiking a thumb over her shoulder, pointing to the other room. “I want to show you pictures from college too.”
“Okay, sure.” I give Carol a little wave as I follow Anya past the living room and up the stairs to her old bedroom.
She shuts the door behind me and flops onto her bed. “Staying here has been a mindfuck,” she says. “I thought I’d graduate from college and jobs would be lined up for me to choose from. I thought I’d instantly start making money and be able to buy a big house. Guess that shit isn’t real.”
“Yeah, the real hard truth of college. What did you study again?”
Anya sits upright, and I wander her bedroom, looking at all the old photos from high school she has on display. “Business. But do my brothers even want to listen to my business ideas? Nope.”
I take a seat next to her. “What are they?”
Anya perks up, a smile brightening her face. “Well, you know that back room at the brewery?”
I nod, remembering my meeting with Paxton in that room when we went over the rules. The rules we’ve since broken. “Yeah, I do.”
Anya’s smile grows. “I think we should turn it into a party room for special events. People could rent out the space, and we could hold birthday parties, or rehearsal dinners.”
“That’s a great idea, Anya. Why won’t your brothers go for it?”
“Because Callum likes to do things his way,” she says in a bossy low tone. “It’s his way or the highway.”
“Yeah, I’ve kind of gotten the impression Callum doesn’t know what fun is.”
Anya rolls her eyes. “He doesn’t.” She takes my hand. “Okay, enough about me. Tell me what’s going on between you and Paxton? He’s been extra touchy-feely with you today, and extra grouchy.”
I blush, biting my lower lip. “Can I tell you a secret?”
Her eyes widen. “Did you two have sex?” She covers her ears. “Yes, tell me, but don’t tell me any details.” She almost appears terrified of the answer, as I bite my lip.
“Yes, we had sex.”
She gasps. “Shut up, you did? How was it?” She immediately regrets her question and shakes her head, while twisting her face into one of disgust. “No, don’t want details, but now what?”
I press my hand to my heart. “It was amazing. Better than anything I’ve ever experienced, but now I don’t know.
” I drop my hand and it lands with a thud on the bed.
“You know Paxton, he’s never serious about that type of stuff.
I think he’ll be single for the rest of his life.
What if I made a huge mistake and lose him for good? ”
Anya thinks about what I’ve said and then smiles. “What if it’s just right, and it turns into something beautiful? Like better than this friendship has ever been.”
I try to imagine that type of life with Paxton. A better than friendship kind of life. Is it possible? “I don’t know.”
Anya lifts a perfectly shaped brow. “I know one thing”—she pins me with a stare—“that boy is crazy about you.”
After a few more minutes, we head down to dinner, and the smell of garlic engulfs me.
“It smells delicious, Carol,” I say, sitting between Anya and Paxton at the dinner table.
Carol gives me a warm smile. “I love cooking for everybody. I’d be happier cooking for a bigger family. I need to get these boys married off. I want grandkids.”
My eyes nearly pop out of the socket at the thought of marriage. In ten years, will Paxton be sitting here with his future wife and his future kids? Where will I be? Alone?
Paxton squeezes my leg under the table and leans close. “You okay?”
I pick up the dinner roll basket and plop one onto my plate. “Just peachy.” He’s going to know something’s up, because I have never uttered that phrase in my life, but he just raises a brow.
“Did you get that Smokehouse’s account?” Callum asks Paxton, and the tension between Paxton and me fizzles.
“I think so. Just need to go over a few details. I wanted him to give us two lines, but he’s only offering one.”
“Two beers on tap would be great for us.” Callum digs into the lasagna on his plate.
“I know, that’s why I’m going for two lines,” Paxton answers. He takes the basket of rolls from my hands and gives me a tiny smile.
Are things growing weird between us? Will I be pushed out once his special someone comes along?
I push the food around on my plate, not hungry as I listen to the conversation around the table. You can tell there’s major tension between Anya and Callum. I want to come to her defense and tell Callum he’s being stubborn, but it’s not my place.
Shepherd talks about his time in Florida, helping out their cousins, and meeting Ellis’ new fiancée, Kiki.
I listen about how Ellis and Kiki met and laugh at the fact a goat ate her engagement ring when she was engaged to another man.
A man that Ellis was best man for in their wedding that never took place.
How they were both strangers when they shared their first kiss.
From the sounds of it, Kiki and Ellis sound perfect for each other.
Kind of like Paxton and me.
We’re perfect for each other, aren’t we?
There’s only one way to find out. We need to have sex once more. To really see if it’s meant to be.
Later that evening, when we return to Paxton’s apartment, he stares at me.
“What?” I ask.
“You were quiet at dinner. You barely ate anything.” Paxton shoves his hands into his jeans pockets.
“I’m fine.” I inch closer to him and wrap my arms around his neck just because I can. “I was thinking we could practice a scene tonight.”
Paxton raises a brow. “Yeah? There is one thing I can’t stop thinking about.”
I step back and drop my hands. “What’s that?”
“Remember the munch? Your outfit, and they were talking about role-playing. You as the naughty student and me as the mean professor.” He actually blushes and it causes my heart to nearly explode in my chest. It’s beating so fast. He wraps his arms around my waist and tugs me closer. “I can’t stop thinking about that.”
My eyes widen. “You’re in luck. I brought the plaid skirt. It’s in my bag.”
“Oh, thank god. Go get dressed and I’ll set up the living room as my classroom.”
I rush to Paxton’s room and find my plaid skirt to play the part of the naughty student. I smile at the thought of being a brat for Paxton. Will he spank me?
Or worse?
I’m not into pain, but if Paxton’s the one administering it, it might be okay.
I don’t have the fishnet stockings, but I have a white halter top that goes perfectly with the skirt. I rush into the ensuite bathroom and pull my hair into two ponytails.
“Don’t laugh,” Paxton says as I walk into the living room. He’s standing in front of a whiteboard with Professor Atwood written in blue EXPO marker. Instantly, I get turned on. “I had this whiteboard in the closet because we were using it for beer ideas one night during a brainstorming session.”
“Sounds so serious,” I say, walking further into the living room.
He’s moved the desk, which is normally pushed into the corner of his living room, into the middle of the room, right in front of the whiteboard. If you squint your eyes, it looks like a small classroom. Well, a classroom for one student.
“It was serious. We came up with a lot of beer ideas before we got drunk and ended up wrestling around instead. It’s how that lamp you gave me for Christmas one year got broken.”
“You said you accidentally knocked it over when a crazy cat rushed into your apartment when you were bringing home groceries.”
He rubs at the back of his neck. “Busted. Yeah, it broke from drinking too much with my brothers.”
I twirl my hair as I stare at him. “Will you ever grow up, Professor Atwood?”
He sucks in a breath. “Damn, I might have to rethink my career choices because I like you calling me that.”
I give him a pouty look and bat my lashes at him. “Professor Atwood,” I say in a breathy whisper.
“Fuck,” he growls out, closing his eyes. His eyes snap back open and roam over my body. “You look hot as fuck in that skirt. It’s my most favorite thing.” He points to the chair. “Sit down and get ready for your lesson.”
I lean into my role and push him a bit. “What if I don’t want to sit down? What if I don’t want any lesson at all?”
Paxton looks shocked by my words but recovers nicely. He inches closer. “Then I will have to bend you over the desk and punish you.”
My body tightens into a knot of desire. “Punish me how?” I ask, still in a sexy pout. I bat my long lashes once again.
Paxton breaks character to say, “You’re turning me on so badly, Hart.”
“Professor Atwood, you could lose your job for saying something like that.” I take a seat in the chair and gaze up at him.
He cracks his neck to the side. “Well, I wouldn’t be at risk of losing my job if you weren’t so fucking tempting.”
“It’s not my fault.” I’m loving this. Loving the way Paxton’s green eyes darken when he looks at me.
“It is your fault, and that’s why I’m going to punish you. Stand.”
I lift a brow. “What if I say no?”
He plants both palms on my desk and leans over, almost nose to nose. “We can do this the hard way, or the easy way. But I suggest you do as I say. Lean over the desk and get your ass in the air, so I can spank you for being the naughtiest student in the history of students.”
I choke down a gasp, even though I’m utterly turned on. Every cell in my body hums with arousal. “What if I want it the hard way?” I ask, drawing out the word hard.
His eyes flare with lust. “Oh, believe me, Hart, I’ve been hard for you all day.”
Now it’s my turn to break character. “Really?”
“I’m always hard for you.” He wraps a hand around my wrist, looking into my eyes with a serious expression. “You remember your safe word, right?”
“Strawberry,” I whisper.
“If I hear you say it, I stop. You trust me, right?”
“You’re the only man I trust, Paxton.” And it’s true.
“Good.” And just like that, he slides back into the character of the mean, overbearing professor.
He snatches me up from my chair and leans me over the desk.
“You’re so fucking naughty for tempting me.
I can’t stop thinking about you. You tempt me day and night.
I think about you all the fucking time.”
I can’t see his face, because he’s standing behind me, so I don’t know how much of what he’s saying he truly means. I’m sure he’s just playing the part.
I don’t say anything, unsure if I should.
He lifts my skirt, and the cool air hits my bare ass. “Fuck,” he hisses. “Where are your panties, Hartford?”
“I didn’t wear any to school today, Professor Atwood.”
He kneads my ass cheek with one hand. “Such a naughty girl. Do you like being naughty? Or do you want to be my good girl?”
I want to ask if I can select both options, but he doesn’t wait for me to respond before he’s saying, “I’m going to punish you for turning me on.
For tempting me every day.” His voice sounds like he’s in physical pain.
Like he can’t handle me tempting him. Like he’s been living with this temptation for years.
God. He deserves an Oscar for his acting tonight.
Even if he’s playing a part, I want to believe it’s all true. That I have been tempting him for years. That he’s been living in this torture just like I have.
“I can’t help it,” I say. “I want you so much that I can’t help but tempt you.” I’m not lying here. And it feels good to tell him how I feel under the ruse of role-playing.
“All you ever had to do was ask me, Hartford,” he breathes out. “You know I’d never deny you anything. Not even my hard cock.”
Oh god. I’m so turned on. I twist and wiggle a little so I can relieve this ache growing between my thighs. In my core. Everywhere.
Paxton lets out a chuckle. “Are you trying to get off right now?”
“Yes. I need it,” I tell him, wishing more than anything he’d touch me right now. “Please,” I beg.
He just said he’d give me anything I wanted. And I want all of him now.