Chapter 4
WARRICK
Icouldn’t believe how fast everything had unraveled.
One minute, we were sitting on those folding chairs, talking about loss and loneliness like two normal people trying to pretend they weren’t staring at each other’s mouths.
The next, I had Peyton straddling my lap in the back seat of my truck, her shirt gone, her plain cotton bra the only thing still between us.
Plain. White. Nothing fancy. And fuck if it wasn’t the sexiest thing I’d ever seen on a woman.
My hands shook a little when I reached behind her.
The clasp gave with a quiet snap. She shrugged it off, letting it drop somewhere behind the seat, and then she was bare—small, perfect breasts, nipples already pebbled from the cool air and the way I was looking at her like I wanted to devour her whole.
We were parked at the edge of the lot, sure, but there were still trucks and people and volunteers moving around out there. Anyone could glance over, squint through the tint, catch the rocking of the suspension if we weren’t careful.
The thought should’ve made me stop. Instead, it sent a dark thrill straight to my cock.
She liked the risk too. I could tell by the way her eyes were wide, the way her breath hitched when I leaned in and took one tight nipple into my mouth.
Christ. She tasted like salt and skin and sweetness. I sucked harder and flicked my tongue, and she arched, grinding down on me so I could feel the heat of her right through her jeans. My hips jerked up without permission.
I switched to the other breast, kneading the first with my palm while I worked her with my mouth. She was moving now—slow, needy rolls of her hips—and every time she pressed down, I swore I could feel how wet she was getting, how ready.
I had to know.
I popped the button on her jeans. Dragged the zipper down slowly, torturing us both with the sound. Then I slid my hand inside her panties and—fuck—found her soaked. Slippery. Hot. One finger pushed inside easily, and she clenched around me like she never wanted to let go.
I groaned against her skin. “You’re so fucking wet, Peyton.”
She whimpered. I curled my finger, dragged it out, found her clit, and started rubbing in tight circles. She threw her head back, moaning too loud for a parking lot, and I didn’t care. I wanted to hear every sound she made.
She came in seconds—hard, sudden, thighs shaking. I kept rubbing until she was trembling, gasping, looking down at me with wide, stunned eyes.
“That was…” She swallowed. “That was my first one. Ever.”
I froze. “You’ve never come before?”
She shook her head, cheeks flaming. “I tried. A lot. Just…couldn’t.”
Something primal snapped loose in my chest. Knowing no one else had ever given her this—knowing I was the first—made me so hard, it hurt.
She reached for my belt before I could say anything else. I lifted my hips, helped her shove my jeans and boxers down to mid-thigh. My cock sprang free, thick and leaking, and she just…stared. Like it was a miracle.
Her fingers wrapped around me—tentative at first, then firmer. Then she climbed off me, settling onto the seat next to me, and leaned down to take me in her mouth.
Hot. Wet. Perfect.
I groaned, head falling back against the seat, one hand fisting gently in her hair while the other found her breast again, my thumb brushing over her nipple. She moaned around me, and the vibration nearly ended me right there.
“Peyton—stop. Fuck, stop.” I tugged her up. “I’m too close.”
She looked dazed, lips swollen. I had to have her. All of her.
“Take everything off,” I said, my voice wrecked. “Panties too. Now.”
She scrambled to obey, kicking off shoes and jeans and underwear while I watched every inch of skin revealed. When she was naked, I pulled her onto my lap.
I paused, reality cutting through the haze. “I don’t have a condom.”
“I’m on the pill.” She met my eyes, steady. “It’s okay.”
The words hit different. I pictured it—her belly round, my baby inside her—and the thought didn’t scare me. It settled somewhere deep, warm, and right. I liked it. More than I should’ve.
She straddled me again and lined me up. Just the head of me notched against her entrance, and I had to grit my teeth.
“It’ll hurt at first,” I warned, my hands settling on her hips. “Go slow, baby.”
She nodded.
Then I said something I hadn’t planned. “Show me how you touch yourself.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, but she did it—slid her fingers down, started circling her clit the way she must have tried so many times alone. Watching her was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.
I guided her hips in shallow rocks—just enough to stretch her around the head without pushing too deep. Every slide was torture. She was so tight, so hot, gripping me like she was made for this. I was already fighting not to thrust up into her.
“You feel incredible,” I rasped. “So fucking good. I’m not going to last long like this.”
She kept touching herself, faster now, eyes fluttering closed as she moaned. The sight of her—head tipped back, lips parted, fingers working her clit while she took more and more of me—pushed me right to the edge.
She sank deeper without flinching. No pain on her face anymore—just pure, stunned pleasure. She came again, clenching hard around me, and that was it.
I buried my face in her neck, teeth grazing her skin to muffle the groan as I came inside her. Pulse after pulse, filling her, marking her in the most primitive way possible. She trembled through it with me, arms wrapped tight around my shoulders.
We stayed locked together, breathing hard, while the world outside slowly filtered back in. Voices. Footsteps. A dog barking somewhere close.
I glanced out the tinted window. Two volunteers were heading in this direction, maybe twenty yards off.
“We need to get dressed,” I murmured against her hair. “Before someone comes looking.”
She nodded, reluctant. I helped her slide off me, already missing the heat of her. We fumbled back into clothes—jeans sticking to damp skin, shirts yanked on haphazardly—stealing touches, small kisses, like we couldn’t stand not to.
When we were decent, I caught her chin and made her look at me. “Tonight, after we finish here, I’m taking you to dinner. Then I’m taking you home. And I’m going to lay you out on my bed and make love to you properly. Slow. Thorough. Until you forget everything except how good we feel together.”
Her smile was shy, bright, perfect. “I like that plan,” she whispered.
I kissed her one more time—soft, promising—then opened the door.
She climbed out first. I followed a minute later, stepping back into the sunlight like nothing had changed.
But everything had.
And I couldn’t help but be hopeful for the future.