Chapter 8 #2
“Nope, still can't do it. How about a few of my comfort movies?”
I wave my hand, ushering her to proceed, just as our drinks are brought to our table. She takes a big sip before she starts.
“Okay. Hmm…let’s see... Sandlot, Mean Girls, The Hangover, Remember the Titans, and anything from Adam Sandler.”
Her last confession has me laughing, knowing she movie-quoted me twice with Billy Madison. “Would never peg you for an Adam Sandler lover,” I say sarcastically.
“Oh, big time.”
“That’s quite the variety of comfort movies.”
“Honestly, I don’t think there’s any genre I don’t like. Wait, scratch that… I won’t watch horror films by myself.”
“Same. I might be scary on the ice, but you won’t catch me watching that shit by myself. Besides, it’s fun to watch in a group. See everyone’s reactions.”
She nods, her brown eyes bright. “Alright, your turn. Give me some of your favorites,” she says, reaching for her iced tea and taking another sip.
Copying her, I reach for my glass. “Okay, Jurassic Park, Fast and the Furious, the Big Lebowski, Home Alone, and Happy Gilmore.”
“Stop it! I don’t peg you as an Adam Sandler guy,” Peyton blurts.
I raise my right hand. “Swear it.”
Our appetizer sampler arrives next, and Peyton reaches for a mozzarella stick, dipping it, then taking a bite of the end.
My eyes drift down to her mouth, and I watch as her pouty lips wrap around it.
She pulls my attention back when she waves it in my direction and asks, “What was it like growing up on a ranch?”
I proceed to tell her about life on the ranch, including what it was like growing up with a twin and living so close to my grandparents.
We discuss my parents’ divorce and how, after my mom moved out, I realized I’m more of a city guy.
Peyton’s incredibly easy to talk to, and I find myself sharing things I normally wouldn’t.
However, I graze over Jules’s passing, not wanting to open that door, at least not yet.
When I return the question, Peyton opens up to me about her childhood.
She grew up not having her dad around; she was the product of a one-night stand.
Her mom was young, and they didn’t have much.
So, she moved often, settling in wherever her mom could find work.
She confesses to being home alone a lot from a young age, which sparked her love for movies.
They kept her company when finding and keeping friends was hard.
They were her comfort. I'm going to go out on a limb and assume this is also why she enjoys journalism so much. She’s used to being a spectator.
Peyton shakes her head, as if to snap herself out of her mental spiral. “Geez, I'm sorry I went a little deep there.”
I nudge her knee under the table to help lighten her mood. “No worries. Thank you for sharing that with me.”
She closes her eyes, and I notice the way her long lashes sweep across her rosy cheeks. When she opens them back up, her big brown eyes lock onto mine, and I admire the way they shine. When another pair of familiar brown eyes flashes through my mind, I quickly shake it away.
Stop thinking about the girl you’ll never get and focus on the pretty one right in front of you.
Dinner goes by too fast, and I’ll admit, I don’t want it to end. Our questions remain on the lighter side after our childhood discussions, but I am still clocked into every word she says. With all our stories and the laughter, there hasn’t been a stitch of silence between us.
“Last one… Where do you see yourself in ten years?”
That answer comes easily. “In the NHL.”
She motions for me to elaborate more, so I do. “Ultimately, I think I want to end up somewhere in the Northeast, maybe even New York.”
“Kids, wife, pets?” Peyton pushes for more.
I chuckle softly, recalling Jules’s premonition of who our future spouses would be and what our lives would be like. My heart aches when I remember her dreams of her own future, one that she’ll never get to experience. One I’m reminded of daily.
I clear the emotion from my throat. “Yes, married with kids. I want a whole crew of them, so at least four if we’re blessed like that. What about you?”
A dreamy expression crosses over her face as she contemplates her answer.
“I'm torn currently. I always thought I’d continue to write and go the journalism route, but more recently, I’ve loved the idea of sideline reporting. Being right up in the action and reporting live.”
“Do you see yourself remaining in the sports world?”
“I would prefer it, that’s for sure. The real world is a mess; I enjoy the happy bubble of sports.” She chuckles at that.
I raise my cup to cheers with her. “Well, here’s to our life ten years down the line.”
“Cheers,” she says with a smile that lights up her whole face. One I haven’t been able to stop looking at all night.
When it comes time to leave, I plan to be a gentleman and walk her back to her place, but she surprises me by stopping at a door around the corner from The Wolfpack entrance.
“I didn’t know there was even an apartment above this place. Isn’t it loud as fuck up there? This place can get pretty wild on the weekends.”
“Yeah, I didn’t either,” she replies. “Berkley helped me get this spot; I was over living in the dorms. The noise isn’t too bad. I think they must’ve soundproofed the apartment. I have no complaints.”
A silence falls between us, and for the first time all night, I feel awkward, unsure of how to say goodnight. Tonight felt more than just friends getting dinner together.
Thankfully, Peyton makes the decision for me when she wraps her arms around me in a big hug.
“Thank you, Mav. I had a really fun night,” she says, pulling away and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“I did too,” I say as she reaches for her keys and unlocks her door. Still questioning what to do, a thought pops into my head.
“Hey, would you want to go to tomorrow’s game with me? Not for the project… We have enough material for that already. Hopefully, it’ll be a sweep. I'm sure there will be a party of some sort afterwards. I have an extra ticket, but not like you need one, being the Howler Girl.” Fuck, I'm rambling.
Peyton’s face beams at my nonsense, and I can't help but smile in return. “I have to admit, I was going anyway since I’ll be covering the game for the Howler Report. But I’m sure I’d have more fun next to you than in the press box. So yes, I’d love to.”
“Goodnight, Mav,” she says before leaning up on her tiptoes and placing a soft kiss on my cheek.
“Goodnight,” I say, and wait until I know she’s safe inside before I leave.
Me
How’s my man Joey? Still pissed you’re not at a national park?
Shay
Haha, funny you mention it. He found out there’s one here on the island of St. John. I have a feeling my parents planned it this way.
Mav
That’s perfect he can get his fill, and you still get your beach time.
Shay
Yeah it’s absolutely gorgeous here!
Me
How was your first full day at the beach?
Shay
It was great. Got a little too much sun, but that’s fine. Lol.
Mav
Picture proof or it didn’t happen.
Shay
[picture message]
I'm dumbstruck for a moment as I stare at the image before me. Shay with a towel wrapped around her hair and across her chest. Giving me the perfect amount of cleavage to make me wish I could see what’s underneath. Her face is scrunched in the cutest way, accentuating her sunburnt cheeks.
Me
Still cute tho .
Shay
You’re nuts, I just got out of the shower. We have dinner in a little bit, so I gtg get myself dressed and ready.
Mav
Talk to you soon. Have fun and say hi to everyone for me.
Shay
Of course! I’ll talk to you later.
Did she just purposefully admit to being wet and naked? My cock instantly hardens at the thought.
The last time I saw her cheeks that pink was after the tattoo she gave me.
My fingers trace over the tender spot on my thigh, still thinking about how it felt having her hands on me.
How I could feel her tiny breaths on my exposed skin.
I know she felt the tension too. I saw how her body was reacting to me.
It took all that I had not to lean in a little more and kiss her.
For her to give herself over to me freely, without hesitation.
Fuck me, what I wouldn’t give to see her that way, to have my hands all over her as we attempt to take a shower.
To fuck her against the tile, never getting my fill of her.
Because I know that would be the case with us; I’d never be satiated.
I lower the waist of my boxers, and my cock springs free, begging to be touched.
I slowly tease myself with soft, slow strokes, picturing Shay’s delicate hands wrapped around my shaft.
Shay swirls her thumb over the pre-cum that forms at my aching tip.
“Please, Shay. Don’t tease me, baby.”
“Mmm, I’m not teasing, Beauty. I'm savoring every second,” she says as she licks her lips in anticipation.
“Fuck, baby. Open that pretty mouth of yours. Let me in.”
My hips jerk, and my hand picks up speed.
Shay’s mouth is on me, taking me deep. She lets out a low-sounding gag, and I place my hand on the back of her head to keep her there for a moment.
“Shh, breathe out of your nose… That’s it, I knew you could do it.”
My praise has her taking me even farther down her throat, and my toes practically curl.
“Yes, just like that.”
Her hand reaches for my balls as she pulls up and twirls her tongue around my tip, then goes back down.
I'm so damn close to finishing, but I'm desperate to see this fantasy through until the end.
Shay’s big honey eyes peer up at me from where she kneels at my feet. Full of want and desire.
“Where do you want my cum, gorgeous?”
She pulls off of me, sits back on her heels, and opens her mouth wide, sticking her tongue out in anticipation. My right hand strokes my cock while my other cups her cheek, bringing her eyes to lock on mine. “Such a good girl.”
Her eyes close briefly while her body visibly shivers at my words. “I'm so close. Fuck, open those gorgeous eyes of yours. Look at what you do to me.”
When her eyes snap open, they aren’t Shay’s. They’re darker, and not as familiar, but filled with just as much desire.
My orgasm rips through me without further warning, toes curling as I stroke myself to completion.
I lie there for several minutes, trying to catch my breath, replaying the fantasy in my mind.
Well, that was an unexpected surprise.