Chapter 8
8
ELLE
I wake up before Peter, which is odd since he’s usually the one wide awake and sending me texts before the sun rises. But as I blink my eyes open to the image of his relaxed face, I wonder if maybe he just sleeps better when there’s another person in his bed. I scowl at the schoolgirl part of myself who’s giddy that I get to be that person in his bed. Well, at least for last night.
Who knows if it’ll even happen again?
Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I look back at the man who spent hours the night before reshaping my world. He looks more peaceful than I’ve ever seen him, eyes closed, not an ounce of tension in his body, with his broad, muscular chest moving up and down in slow, serene breaths.
I turn onto my side to watch him sleep until bright sunlight floods through the window and gleams down on his handsome face. At first, I think he’s going to wake up, but his eyebrows merely twitch together for a quick moment before he rolls toward me and throws an arm over my hip.
The movement exposes more of his naked body, allowing me to admire his smooth, golden skin stretching over the hard muscles of his abs. His physique is even more mouth-watering when he’s naked and I can’t help but look my fill. His arms are thick and corded, and his abdomen is well-defined to the point where I wonder when he has the time to work out so much. Probably at the ass crack of dawn, which is why he’s usually sending me some kind of good morning text before my alarm has gone off.
He shifts his right leg, and the bedsheet slides off a bit more, exposing him down to his hip with ethereal rays of light cascading over him. His hard cock peeks out from beneath his thigh and my mouth waters at the tantalizing image. He lounges like a marble statue of a Greek god and a sudden need to capture this moment washes over me.
I carefully slip out of the bed, ignoring my own state of undress, and fumble around for my jeans. I retrieve my phone from the back pocket, wishing I had one of my actual cameras, but this will just have to do, knowing Peter could wake up at any moment. After quietly adjusting the curtains to optimize the lighting, I stand at the foot of the bed and take a few pictures. It’s a stunning image, but I want another angle. So I tiptoe to the head of the bed and take a downward shot of his masculine body. Pleased with this view, I snap a few more, slightly adjusting my phone camera with each photo.
“What’re you doing?” he grumbles in a sexy, groggy voice. But before I can answer, he drags me into bed and rolls himself on top of me.
I squeak and the phone slips from my hand as I giggle. “Nothing!” I lie, attempting but failing to blindly search for my phone.
He grasps both of my wrists in one hand, pinning them over my head onto the pillow. Then, he finds my phone and looks at the screen. “Well, well, well. Looks like someone has been busy this morning.” He smirks and scrolls through the photos with his thumb as I wiggle uselessly in his hold. “Wow, Ella Kate. I had no idea you were such a little pervert.”
“I am not! I was just trying to… I wanted to…” I squirm beneath him, trying to buy myself some time.
“You wanted to what , baby?” He scrutinizes the images while I search his face, wondering what he’s thinking.
“You just looked… So I wanted to…”
He must know how gorgeous he is, and he doesn’t need some silly girl like me reminding him.
He leans forward to whisper in my ear, “I like that you find my body attractive.” He kisses the tender spot behind my ear and I quiver. “When you look at me like that, it makes my cock hard… for you.” To prove it to me, he rolls his hips and nudges his dick against my pussy. “But your dirty little pictures seem to be missing the most important thing, don’t you think?” He continues grinding himself against me and I gasp.
“What?” I ask as my breaths begin to quicken.
“You, pretty girl. If you’re gonna take pictures of me naked, then it’s only right that you’re naked with me.” He nips at my neck, still pinning me in place.
“You’re ridiculous, Peter.” I relax and wrap my legs around his waist to cradle him between my thighs.
“And you’re beautiful, Ella Kate,” he states, looking deeply into my eyes.
It’s at this moment—the both of us lying naked and completely vulnerable as he stares at me intensely—that I feel confident and sexy and desired. These are foreign emotions for me, but I like them. I like how he makes me feel, something no one else has been able to do, not even myself.
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?” he asks, staring down at my body.
“Make me feel seen, like I’m special.”
Peter peppers kisses along my collarbone. “You are special. And sexy and funny and kind. You’re also a smart-ass, and I like that you’re not afraid to give me shit.”
I laugh at the last part. “I’m not a smart-ass.” He shoots me a blank stare. “What? I’m not,” I joke.
“Okay, and I’m not the sexiest guy you’ve ever met.” He smirks.
“You’re not,” I lie, pinching my lips together to keep from smiling. We both know how hot he is, but I refuse to admit it right now.
“Ella Kate, I am what dirty little girls like you dream of. Wickedly charming and roguishly handsome with a huge dick.” He grins with feigned arrogance, and I can’t help but laugh.
“You just say whatever you want, don’t you?”
He shrugs, then sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, causing me to arch my back and press against him. “Of course, I do. It’s not that hard.”
“It’s like you don’t care what anyone else thinks. Like you can just live your life how ever you want and everything’ll turn out fine.” Why can’t I be more like Peter, doing whatever I want, going wherever I want to go?
“I care what you think,” he says sincerely, and for some inexplicable reason, it makes me want to tear up.
I study him, trying to find any sign of dishonesty. But with his chin lifted, his head tilted slightly to the side, and an earnest smile on his lips, all I see is the truth.
“Why?” I ask curiously, still wondering how he sees what he does when he looks at me. “You’re successful and gorgeous and well-traveled. Why on earth are you so interested in me? I’m just a small-town girl who’s gonna be stuck here for the rest of her life, never doing anything interesting or exciting.”
He cups my face with his hands, brushing away a tear from my cheek.
That’s strange. When did I start crying?
“Ella Kate.” He forces my gaze to meet his when I try to look away. “Why wouldn’t I want you? You’re hardworking and smart and witty.” It’s hard to hear his compliments when I usually don’t get them from anyone other than my parents. “And you’re beautiful, ambitious, and talented. I know I was joking before…” He nods to my phone. “But you have real talent when it comes to photography. I’ve seen the pictures you’ve taken and they’re amazing. Just like you are. Someday, you’re gonna believe me when I say that, and I’ll say it over and over again until you do.”
His eyes silently plead with me to take what he says as truth. Then his actions work to convince me when he leans down to kiss me. It’s not urgent and passionate like the night before, but it’s certainly not chaste either. It’s an act of reassurance and care and promise as our mouths meld together in a way I’ve never experienced with another person. I feel myself surrender to him, and it’s terrifying and beautiful at the same time.
I’m not sure whether it’s hours or minutes or merely seconds that slip by, because it feels as if everything falls away when his mouth is pressed to mine. But, when I finally pull away, he lets me, and I reach up to run my thumb gently over his swollen lips. His eyes are slightly dazed, and a hint of pride tickles at my chest that I’m the woman who made him like this.
“Thank you, Peter,” I whisper. Then I kiss him again, pressing our lips together for a long moment, before rolling him off me and getting out of bed.
Confused, he sits up to look at me. “What’re you doing?” He doesn’t bother covering up and it’s hard not to look at his long, thick cock while it points at me, demanding attention that I refuse to give.
“I’m trying to find my shirt,” I huff. “I need to get home and get ready for work.” I see his pout out of the corner of my eye as I get dressed.
“Do you really have to leave so soon?” he whines. As much as I want to stay in bed with him all day—which is surprising after as much sex as we had last night—I have responsibilities and obligations. I can’t afford to be selfish when others are depending on me.
“Yes, I—” My words are cut off when he rises from the bed and stands in front of me. His body is sheer male perfection and the cocky smirk on his face says he knows it too. “Fuck me,” I mutter, and Peter grins.
“Well, if you come back to bed, I can do just that.” He grabs the belt loops of my jeans and tugs my hips toward his, attempting to entice me with his hardness.
I shake my head and step away. “No, no. No more of that, sir. I need to go.” Reluctantly, I allow my gaze to roam over every inch of him, dying to take more pictures.
“You’re looking at me like that again. Should I get your camera, dirty girl?”
My face flames in embarrassment. “Hush and get dressed. You’re distracting me.” I pick up his discarded shirt from last night, tossing it at him so I don’t get within his reach.
“Are you sure you want me dressed?” he teases. “Looks like your creative juices are flowing. Perhaps we can get other juices flowing too.” He winks at me like the devil he is.
“Oh my god, Peter. That’s gross. Don’t say juices like that ever again.” I roll my eyes while he lets out a hearty laugh. He finishes getting dressed before escorting me to his car.
The drive back to my house is not nearly as awkward as I thought it was going to be, and Peter keeps the atmosphere light and comfortable by singing along to the radio and pointing out places he wants us to check out. Almost too soon, we pull into my driveway and I find myself hesitant to leave his presence.
He places his warm palm over mine. “Can I see you again tonight?”
I want to say yes, but I know there are other things I need to do. “I’m not sure. I was planning on doing some inventory after my shift.”
He nods with understanding. “Okay, how about tomorrow morning, then? It’ll be Saturday so we could get breakfast somewhere before you head into work.”
“The weekends are our busiest days, so I typically get there early to prep everything for my parents,” I admit. I’m sure to Peter it sounds like excuses not to see him again, but I really do have obligations.
He drums his fingers on the back of my hand while he thinks for a second. “Alright, well, you gotta sleep sometime, right? How about I pick you up after your shift tonight and you spend the night again?”
Damn, that’s tempting.
I bite my lip. “I’m not sure how much sleep I’ll get if I spend another night.”
Winking, he replies, “That’s the plan, sweetheart. You can sleep when you’re dead.”
I groan and roll my eyes for the second time this morning. “Ugh, you’re insufferable.”
“But you like me like this.” He grins. I don’t respond and instead rush from the car before he has a chance to stop me. When I’m halfway to my front door, Peter rolls down the window and calls out, “So, is that a no?”
Pausing midstep, I weigh my options before replying over my shoulder, “I’ll text you tonight when I’m done.”
I hear his triumphant yes , but don’t turn around to look at him or I know I’ll run back for one more kiss. I hurry inside and hear him pull away as I close the door behind me. Before I’m even up the stairs, my phone pings with an incoming text.
Peter:
Looking forward to making my dirty girl come tonight. Don’t forget to bring your camera.
I giggle like a schoolgirl and rush to my bedroom.