Prologue #2
The woman’s mouth closed in around Josie’s top lip, sucking briefly, and then she slipped her tongue in and weaved her fingers through Josie’s wet hair, drawing her even closer.
A moan slipped out of Josie’s lips. Her limbs finally recovered. She was just about to run her palms along the woman’s waist, desperate to touch her, desperate to know how a strained conversation in a noisy pub could lead to this, when the kiss broke and the woman stepped back.
Josie felt an emptiness so vast that she was nearly swallowed whole. It worsened even more when the woman turned on the spot and headed in the direction of the street.
“Where are you going?” cried Josie, stepping forward, arm out as if she wanted to catch the woman before she disappeared in the cloud of rain.
“Wherever your hotel is,” said the woman, glancing back over her shoulder. “Point me in the right direction.” She winked, and that was the last thing Josie remembered.
~~
The next time Josie was aware of what was going on around her, her hotel room door swung open, and they both stumbled inside.
Josie’s heartbeat was everywhere, in her head, in her ears, between her thighs.
“Peyton,” breathed the woman in Josie’s ear. Soft, warm goosebumps spread all along her skin. “My name, if you still want to know it.”
“I do,” muttered Josie, her hands feeling both powerful and unsure as they skated along Peyton’s back, moving beneath the fabric, her nails scraping along her soft, velvety skin. “My name’s Jo—”
Peyton pressed her mouth against hers before the name even left her mouth.
Not that Josie minded. Or maybe she did.
Maybe she wanted to say her name out loud, engrave it into the woman’s memory forever.
But instead, she said, “Why are you doing this? You don’t even know me… or like me. If I’m being honest—”
Peyton cut her off. “Who says I have to like you to sleep with you?”
Josie’s eyes widened. She nearly stepped back, but Peyton was holding so tightly onto her waist that it was impossible to get any distance.
Josie had only ever slept with women who liked her, who genuinely cared about her.
Was she about to embark on meaningless sex when she was the exact opposite of a person who participated in one-night stands?
Peyton laughed. “You’re hot. That’s all. Now are you okay with this or are you going to get all gushy? Because if you are, you have to tell me, and we’ll stop.”
“I’m fine,” interrupted Josie. The thought of leaving was far more painful than the aftermath of this decision.
“Good,” said Peyton, her hands gliding up Josie’s arms and down again to the swell of her hip.
She gripped the hem of Josie’s shirt and shrugged it over her head.
The shirt fell to the floor along with her bikini top and then Peyton’s palm cupped Josie’s breast, her thumb flicking over her nipple, once, twice.
A guttural moan left her throat, and when Josie was just about to return the favor, to yank the top over her head, Peyton dropped her hands and guided Josie to the bed.
When the back of her knees touched the mattress, Peyton pushed her down.
It all felt very one-sided. Every time Josie tried to tug or pull or make a move, Peyton either stopped her or diverted.
“How about we get rid of your clothes?” offered Josie. She very much wanted to know what was beneath those jean shorts and strappy top. She had a feeling that Peyton’s body was just as gorgeous as her face, both sharp and round and delicious.
“Shhh,” said Peyton, her fingers dipping under the band of Josie’s linen shorts before she pulled them down. She did the same with her panties, and when they fell to the floor, Peyton lowered down onto her knees. “Open your legs.”
Josie complied. Her legs fell open, and her hips rose to meet Peyton’s hot mouth as it closed in around Josie’s clit and sucked. She moaned. Oh boy, did she moan. The walls were hopefully made from brick and not plaster, or else her poor neighbors might be in for a surprise.
Peyton’s tongue licked up and down and sideways while two fingers of her right hand pressed down on her clit.
The feeling was fucking amazing, and it got even better when Peyton replaced her tongue with the two fingers and moved deep inside of her.
Josie’s hips rolled up against her hand, needing the pressure, begging for it—
But then, all of a sudden, Peyton stopped and stepped away.
That emptiness from before came back, except it felt magnified. The feeling was amplified, as if the world had ended and she was left all alone. The last woman on earth.
“What’s wrong?” asked Josie, frowning.
“Nothing’s wrong,” said Peyton, a soft smile gracing her face.
She shed her clothes—Josie’s assumption was right, she was stunning—and then climbed onto the bed, crawling over Josie until one leg slid between her thighs.
Josie’s hands feathered along Peyton’s back, feeling the tense pulse of muscles as their breasts connected.
Their stomachs flattened against each other’s, and Josie’s wet core slid across Peyton’s thigh.
What followed could only be described as a starter, main course, and dessert.
Peyton’s mouth crushed into hers while her hips lifted and slammed into Josie’s.
They were riding a wave, one that rose and fell over and over again.
The rain suddenly stopped. Sun glared in through the sheer curtains.
The branches of a yellow mombin tree tapped against the window—she had asked the receptionist about it when she first got there—and Josie was both drunk and completely sober.
Before she knew it, her climax hit her hard and fast.
“Who the hell are you?” breathed Josie, brushing strands of matted hair from her forehead and wiping sweat off her chest.
Peyton laughed and fell onto her side. “No one important.”