Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Peyton
I’m not going. There is no way I’m going. Absolutely not. I’m muttering all of this under my breath as I pull on my clothes — clothes that look good on me, clothes that are suitable to wear to a bar. A bar I am not going to.
“Want me to drop you off?” Harry asks from my doorway where he is loitering.
“I’m not going,” I mutter as I apply another coat of mascara.
“Of course you’re not. Your makeup looks good like that; I like the darker eye on you. Makes the blue really pop.”
“I’m just experimenting, it’s not like I’m going out or anything.”
“Mmhmm. So do you want me to drop you there or not?” he asks again. My head drops to the surface of my vanity table, and I groan.
“No,” I mumble, “I’ll drive, at least that way I can leave when I want. Plus, I’m on an early shift tomorrow, so I don’t want a late night or much to drink at all.” I turn to look at my best friend. “Am I mad for going?”
“Darling girl, you’d be mad if you didn’t go.”
“He’s an asshole. You always say I deserve better than the assholes I’ve dated before.”
“A man that looks the way he does? He’s going to have a certain arrogance about him but give him a chance.
Personally, I think it’s hot. Plus, the things he’s said to you?
Fuck, Peyton, please bring him home with you tonight, even if you don’t like him after tonight, you can always use him to just get yourself off; I don’t think he’d complain.
” I can’t help but laugh. If I want sensible in my life, I do not go to Harry.
Just under an hour later, I walk into the little bar on the pier.
I’m fifteen minutes late but seeing that I wasn’t even sure I was coming, he’d better not complain.
I don’t see him as my gaze scans the patrons.
It’s busy for a Thursday night, with a band setting up in the corner.
Still not finding the man I’m supposed to be meeting, I wonder if he’s left already.
It is definitely not disappointment I’m feeling.
“You’re late,” the words are whispered in my ear as his body presses against the back of mine. I realize he must have been sitting at the few tables outside on the deck.
“I wasn’t going to come, so count yourself lucky I’m even here.”
“Then I would have just come and found you.” His pointer finger runs down the exposed skin of my arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“You don’t know where I live,” I breathe, his presence affecting me more than I’m willing to admit to myself.
“As if a little thing like that would stop me,” his chuckle ruffles the hair by my ear.
“Come on, I have a table outside for us.” His arm slides to the small of my back, guiding me out to the deck.
It’s a beautiful warm evening, perfect for sitting out and watching the sunset.
He pulls out a chair for me to take a seat; as I do, I notice a bottle of my favorite wine already on the table. I raise my eyebrows at him.
“I did my homework,” he smirks.
“Should I be scared?’’
“No. Never of me.” His words are solemn, far more serious than my light-hearted quip. He takes his seat and reaches for the wine bottle, pouring us a glass each.
“Have you recently moved to the area?" I ask. If we’re going to spend the evening together, we might as well get to know each other.
“No. Not yet, though I’m seriously considering buying a place here.”
“So you just joined the gym for fun?” Why would he join a gym somewhere he doesn’t live?
“I plan on spending a lot of time here. It made sense to join one close by, and like I said, I’m seriously considering buying somewhere.”
“Where do you live at the moment, then?”
“I’m based in the city, it’s easier for work. But I think I’d like a place to get away; somewhere quieter, where I can relax.”
“Well, it’s certainly relaxing here. It’s why I stayed. I need that quiet, that calm after work.”
“What is it you do?” he queries.
“I’m a first year ER resident.” He merely nods. Most people have a reaction, if I’m honest, most people are shocked. I’m a short, curly haired, blue eyed, blonde. I look like I should be teaching at a school with Harry, not saving lives. “And what is it that you do?”
“I run a security company.” By run, I’m quite sure he also means owns. His clothing, although understated, is expensive and the watch on his wrist is very high end and pricey.
“Would I know it?” I ask. He names a company that not just me, but most of the world has heard of.
Christ, he is next level rich. Billionaire rich.
“Well, that explains how you would have got my address,” I mutter.
He merely smiles at me. “I get the impression you know a lot more about me, than I do you. Have you looked me up? On one of your systems?”
“Ask me whatever you want, I’ll tell you anything you want to know about me.” I notice that he avoided answering my question.
We trade questions and answers with each other for a while, both finding things out about the other. I’m surprised to find he’s already started looking at properties, having seen two this afternoon.
“What did you think of them?” I ask him.
“Not quite right, but I’m seeing one tomorrow that has my interest piqued.”
“It’s not the old Robinson’s property, is it?” I gasp.
“She definitely didn’t call it that,” he frowns, trying to recall the name of the house.
“High Tides,” we both say at the same time. It’s my favorite house in town. I’ve always had a fascination with it, ever since I was a little girl.
“Yes, that’s the old Robinson’s house, or that’s what we locals know it as.
Old man Robinson, the town eccentric, used to live there up until he died a few years ago.
It’s sat empty ever since, but it’s a beautiful property.
You’ll have to let me know what you think, I’ve always wanted to see inside it; it’s my favorite house in town. ”
“Come see it with me,” he states, as if it’s the simplest, most normal thing in the world to go look at properties together.
“I can’t, I’m on an early shift tomorrow.” I’m actually disappointed I won’t be able to go, even if two people who barely know each other going house hunting together would be weird. I honestly think I would have gone if I could have.
“Another glass?” he asks, nodding towards the bottle. I shake my head in response.
“I better not, I’m driving.”
“Good girl,” he murmurs just loud enough for me to hear. Well, fuck me. Why is that so hot? I’ve never had a thing for being anyone’s ‘good girl’, but coming from his lips? Well, it just hits differently. I like it. A lot.
“You’re staring,” I whisper, his gaze is still focused on me.
“I’m just wondering how one person can be so beautiful.” A thrill runs through me at his words.
“Oh,” I chuckle awkwardly, “well, umm, thank you,” I stammer out.
“Not good at taking compliments, huh?”
“No,” I laugh.
“Well, get used to it, sweetheart.”
“Plan on doling them out a lot, do you?”
“I’m going to give you all of them,” his eyes have darkened, his gaze hooded.
Fuck, he’s gorgeous. I need to go home before I do something stupid, like ask him to come home with me.
Harry’s words have got into my head; it’s the only explanation for this insanity I’m feeling around him.
As if he senses I’m about to bolt on him, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, tapping on the screen a few times before handing it over to me.
“Put your number in. Please.” He adds the last word almost as an afterthought.
I get the impression he’s not trying to be an asshole most of the time, it’s just who he is.
He’s used to getting what he wants, a lot of men in power are.
I debate for all of about three seconds before taking the phone from him and inputting my number.
I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t want to see him again, and it’s not like he wouldn’t be able to get it himself some way or another.
He rises from his seat and holds his hand out to me, helping me from my own.
“Let’s get you home, sweetheart.” He throws a couple bills on the table as we leave, he’s left what I’m sure is a very generous tip.
During the short walk out to our cars, Bennett’s hand manages to find its way to the small of my back again, his thumb gently sweeping up and down. As we reach my car, he pushes me up against it, caging me in the same as he did at the gym earlier today.
“I want to see you tomorrow,” his words are whispered against my lips, his head is bowed, and he’s had to bend his knees to bring himself even close to my level. The man towers over me.
“I can’t, I have a class at the gym after work, and then I need to get some studying done.” He groans, not liking my answer.
“Saturday, then,” his lips brush against mine.
“Yes,” I gasp and he takes the opportunity to thrust his tongue through my parted lips.
I should’ve known the first time he kissed me he wouldn’t ask; this man takes, and right now he’s taking me.
My sanity, my breath, my goddamned mind.
Desire licks through me as he expertly kisses me like no man has before.
His hips press into me, the hard length of his cock pushing into my stomach, and I groan at the feel of him.
Oh my God, he’s huge. His hands slide down my hips, lifting me so he settles between my thighs.
I moan into his mouth as his cock rubs against my clit.
“Fuck, sweetheart, I can feel how hot you are. You want my cock?”
“Yes,” I mewl as his lips place kisses along the column of my neck.
“And you’ll get it. Fuck, sweet girl, will you get it — every single inch of it.
But not here, not in a bar parking lot where anyone can see.
You’re mine.” He slowly pulls away from me and lowers my feet back to the ground.
I’m ashamed to say I’m a little wobbly on my legs, more turned on by a few kisses than I have been by any other sexual experience of my life.
“Fuck, you look gorgeous like this,” he says, gazing down at me.
“Lips swollen and eyes glazed. I can’t wait to see what you look like taking my cock.
” He places a light peck on my lips and opens my door for me.
“You need to go before I don’t let you. Text me when you get home.
” He waits until my seatbelt is on before closing my door and giving the roof of my car a double tap.
Bennett
Good girl, I think to myself the next evening as I watch Peyton continually checking over her shoulder.
She’s just got home from the gym after her class and I’m not sure if it’s a sixth sense to her feeling someone watching her or if the note has made her more aware of her surroundings. Maybe both. Whatever it is, I’m glad.
She’s strong, brave, clever — she’s fucking perfect.
She’s also mine. Sitting across the table from her last night, it came to me that I don’t want her doing that with anyone else.
The thought of her smiling at them, of another making her laugh, of them getting to spend any time with her, filled me with an anger I only feel with my victims.
I don’t understand what it is about her that makes her so different, that makes me want to keep her.
I’ve been with plenty of women, women who have been desperate for more from me, and not one of them has ever tempted me to try.
One look at Peyton and I was done for. So done for that I bought the house today, before I even pulled through the gates, I knew I was going to get it.
The minute she said it was her favorite, it was hers.
Well, ours, I plan on us both living there, soon.
Do I know what I’m doing when it comes to her? No. Does she deserve better than me? Definitely. Will it stop me from making her mine? Abso-fucking-lutely not.
My phone pings next to me and I see it’s a text from the object of my obsession.
You asked me to let you know when I was home tonight. Sooo, I’m home. Is this going to be a habit of yours? That’s two nights x
Yes. Get used to it. How was the gym?
Good. Hard, but good. How was the house? x
I’ll tell you tomorrow.
I’ll do better than tell her. I plan on taking her there and showing her around. It’s amazing what money can do, like get the keys for the house, a house that won’t legally be mine for another week.
Tease x
I smirk at her response. She has no idea.
Good night, Bennett x
Night, sweetheart x
I wait outside Peyton’s for another hour before I head to the house I’ll be staying in from now on. The house that’s only five minutes from my girl.