Chapter 12

Peyton

"Hey, Lisa, it's me." My voice was small and quiet because that's how I felt, like Rocky had taken my energy.

"Don't you ‘hey, Lisa' me when I have been going out of my goddamn mind! You haven't answered any of my calls. And the fucking cops wouldn't tell me anything, of course," she shouted. "What if you were dead? What if something had happened to you?" Lisa breathed heavily into the phone, her worry palpable.

Guilt ripped through me and split my chest wide open. "I'm so sorry," I whispered, "I sent you a text—"

"Yeah," she interrupted, her voice even louder, "one that said your fucking roommate was fucking murdered and that you were going into hiding. What the actual fuck?What did you expect me to think after that?"

"That I was safe?" I said quietly, with a wince. Okay, when she put it like that…

"Well I was thinking the exact opposite, you giant fuck!"

"I'm sorry," I repeat again. "A lot has happened." I launched into my tale, telling her everything that happened from the moment I got home after graduation, until the moment I left the detectives in my room and ran to my car.

"Holy shit." Her voice was quiet now, and she sounded shocked. "What the fuck?"

"Right?" A bitter laugh escaped, and I shook my head. "So this is my life now and I have to say, it fucking sucks."

"No shit," Lisa agreed. "Where are you now and why didn't you call me sooner?"

"I was headed to you when I got the threat saying it was supposed to be me, and I didn't want to put you in danger."

"What are the cops doing?"

"What can they do? There's been no further messages, and they're still investigating Chloe's murder." I said in a resigned tone.

"And you're out there on your own?" The high pitch of her voice told me she was about to freak out again.

"No, I'm not out here on my own, but that's all I can tell you, Lisa. Don't argue because I'm not going to tell you where I am."

"Peyton," she whined.

"No. You're the only person in this world who gives a shit about me, and I won't let anything happen to you. Never."

"Well, damn." I heard her let out a deep sigh. "Look, do you promise me that you're safe?"

"Yes," I tell her without hesitation.

"If I knew where you were, I'd approve?"

"You would."

"Okay." She paused, let out another breath into the receiver, and then spoke again. "Okay. I trust your judgment."

"Okay, good."

There was another silence, but just when I opened my mouth to fill it, she got there first.

"Shit, girl, telling you all about my wonderful new job now seems boring as fuck in comparison to your life."

I quirked a smile at her attempt to lighten the mood. "I'm totally jealous, because I haven't been to work since this happened. I can't put the kids and other employees at the speech therapy center at risk, which means in another week or so my job will be at risk too." It pissed me off that I was going to lose everything, and I didn't even know why. "Who would want me dead?"

"Nobody I can think of. I mean, sure, you've bruised a few egos by rejecting guys, but you're annoyingly nice when you let them down."

"Thanks," I laughed. "That's what I said to the detectives."

"I expect you to call me at least once every damn day, Peyton. Got it?"

I nodded, because that was fair enough, then realized she couldn't see me. "I promise. I just needed to, I don't know, process it all before I reached out. And, stupidly, I thought it would all be over in a few days. Now it looks like it might end up being one of those cases that never ends."

"We can meet up somewhere, can't we?"

"I hope so, because I miss my bestie. But I'm not sure." I didn't tell her about Rocky because I didn't know how to explain it, but I would ask him about seeing my best friend. "I'll let you know. Soon," I promised.

"Okay. Well, I'm headed out for drinks with a coworker, and now that I know you're alive and safe, I plan to go a little overboard."

"Now that I've heard your voice, maybe I'll get a little tipsy too. Be safe," I added with more force than I meant to.

"Always am. But I'll be extra careful just for you. Love you."

"Love you too." The call ended and my heart instantly felt heavier. All of this would be easier to deal with if I had my bestie at my side. But since I couldn't have her, maybe I could have Jose or Tito, or maybe even Jameson. I jumped off the bed and left my room to go in search of booze.

In the kitchen, I grabbed the Maker's Mark and a glass and settled on the sofa in front of the TV. Reality TV was trash, but it was the perfect background noise, so I didn't feel so alone while I drowned my sorrows.

I drank one shot and cursed my bad luck for finding my roommate murdered, for coming home late enough that it wasn't me. For jumping in bed with a man who didn't want me. I took another and another until the sting in my chest dissipated and was replaced by a dull ache that was almost manageable.

I didn't care—much—that Rocky didn't want me. Sure, it hurt like hell after everything else, but I wasn't surprised. He was just like pretty much every other man around, got his fill and moved on. It hurt like hell, but I was strong and I would get past it. Eventually.

It wasn't personal.

So why was I reacting like this? Like something much bigger had been taken away from me?

It was stupid. I was being stupid, and emotional, and I needed to get over myself. That was all.

The front door opened and my heart stopped, but I pretended to be immune, pretended that I hadn't heard it by the time Rocky appeared in the living room looking good enough to eat. He took in the scene, the bottle on the table, the amber liquid in my glass, and reality TV blaring from the speakers, with a frown that marred his ruggedly handsome face.

"Is everything all right?"

"Fine."

His scowl deepened and he folded his arms as if that would intimidate me. "Are you okay, Peyton?"

I snorted a laugh and shook my head. "Don't act like you care, Rocky. I'm fine."

He clenched his jaw. "Of course I care."

"Well, don't, because I'm fine." I stood up and wobbled a little before I got my bearings and snatched the bottle off the coffee table, stumbling towards the staircase that would take me up to my room.

"I do care," he called out from behind me, stopping me in my tracks. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing," I sighed. "Nothing at all, Rocky. I'm just fucking peachy." I turned because I didn't want to look into those eyes, but his hand shot out and grabbed my arm.

"Peyton."

I tried to shrug off his touch, but his grip tightened to let me know who was in charge.

"Let me go, Rocky."

"I can't."

My shoulders sagged and I wanted to lean into his touch, but I couldn't. I refused. "This isn't keeping our distance."

"I know." His tone was resigned, which wasn't exactly what a girl wanted to hear.

"Good." I yanked harder to release myself from his hold and he released me, but not for long. Before I could take another step, Rocky spun me around and pulled me close, so my chest pressed against his, so close I felt the rapid beating of his heart. "Rocky."

"I know," he said again, his voice low and filled with tension in those two, short syllables. "I fucking know." And then his lips were on mine, hot and hard. The kiss was feverish and haunting, it stole my breath and forced me to cling to him.

My arms wrapped around Rocky's wide shoulders, and I leaned back, accepting the hungry kiss and letting my tongue join the dance he was determined to lead. My heart pounded so fast I was sure I was about to die or simply float away, but Rocky's strong arms banded around my waist and held me close to him, right up against his cock, long and thick and hard.

His kiss consumed me, and I knew I should have pushed him away and told him to take his big, beautiful cock somewhere else, but I couldn't. His taste was better than the bourbon that coated my tongue, his touch more electric than a live wire. His hand slipped inside my shorts and my panties where he found me soaking wet and swollen, aching for his touch. "Rocky," I moaned.

"You're so fucking wet already," he growled, sliding two thick fingers deep inside me. He plunged in and out of me, so thick and satisfying my orgasm crept up quickly. "You're so fucking close, Peyton. I want you to come all over my fingers. Coat my hand in your juices."

Oh fuck, why did he have to be so sexy when he talked dirty? My hips rolled and one hand gripped his wrist while I rode out the orgasm that hit like a lightning bolt. "Rocky," I whimpered, and pressed my forehead against his chest. "Yes!" Before I could get myself and my emotions under control, Rocky stepped back, removing his fingers from my body and sticking them between his lips.

Then he stripped me out of my clothes and dropped to his knees, tossing my leg over his broad shoulders while his mouth devoured my pussy. He licked me and growled as if he was a starving man given a feast.

"Rocky," I moaned, and gripped his head, my back against the wall at the bottom of the staircase. The way his tongue moved against me and then within me was too much. His touch was more intoxicating than any liquor and I never wanted it to end, but then his tongue curled around my clit and orgasm number two shot through me. I shook and quivered while his tongue slowed but never stopped, not even when he hooked his arms around my back and laid me on the stairs.

"I need you. Now." His voice was firm and commanding, the need that dripped from his voice visceral.

"I'm here," I said, my voice low and desperate. I wanted this too, how could I not? I knew I needed to keep my mind focused solely on the pleasure, but when he looked at me like that, like I was the only woman who could give him what he needed, it was too hard to keep things orgasm focused.

He was beautiful when he stripped out of his clothes, all big and scarred and tattooed. His thick cock sprang free, and he wrapped a big hand around it.

"You are so fucking beautiful, Peyton." He stroked harder and leaned down towards me, resting one knee on the stairs between my naked thighs as his fist continued to pump against his shaft. "Enjoying the show?"

"You know I am," I whispered, and he grinned wickedly, his free hand coming to rest on the stairs behind my head.

"Good."

I couldn't decide where to look, at his fist still working his thick cock, barely inches away from my bare pussy—or at his face, which was so handsome and rugged, intense and full of heat as his hazel eyes blazed down at me. "Because I want you to ride my cock. I'm sick of beating off to thoughts of those gorgeous tits bouncing in my face while you ride me."

Holy fuck.

When he eased himself beside me on the stairs, I immediately straddled his lap, digging my toes into the carpeted steps for grip. I took his cock in one hand, teasing the tip with my opening until he was coated in my juices.

"You're dripping," he said, and gripped my hips.

"What can I say, you give good head." He laughed and I squeezed his cock as I lowered myself into his thick length. "Fuck, you feel so good." I needed him.

"Peyton." My name fell from his lips on a roar and his head fell back for a brief moment, his eyes closed. When they opened, they burned pure gold and his hands slid from my hips to my tits, squeezing and kneading, pinching my nipples while I treated him like my own personal stallion, riding in long, hard strokes that pushed me closer and closer to orgasm number three.

"Fuck yes!" He was so thick and so hard, filling me perfectly. His cock touched me all around, every slide hit all my nerve endings, and sweat trickled down my spine. "Rocky." His cock was perfect, like it was made just for me. No time for thoughts like that, I chided myself, and slammed my eyes shut, focusing on the way his cock pulsed inside of me, his sack tightening beneath my ass.

"Peyton, come for me, babe." His voice was strained, like he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

"My. Show." I smiled at his narrow-eyed glare.

"Yeah? Then I guess I'll have to make you come." At first, I thought he would flip our positions and fuck me hard and fast, but that wasn't Rocky's style. He leaned forward, big hands cupping my tits while his lips and tongue and teeth scraped and sucked and laved my nipples. His mouth destroyed me, the sensations that coursed through my body intensified, and every time I slid down his length, I drew closer and closer to the edge.

"Rocky, oh fuck!" My skin was on fire, feeling like every nerve ending in my body was exposed, but I couldn't stop. I was a woman on a mission to make him lose control, even if it was only a heartbeat before I did. "Yes!"

His fingertips tightened and his teeth sank into my left breast, and when I pulsed around him in three rapid-fire bursts, his hips jutted up, sending him another inch deeper. How that was possible, I didn't know, but I didn't question it either because there was no time.

Pleasure shot out of me like a supernova and my body tensed for an eternity before the spell was broken in violent convulsions that gripped his cock in a stranglehold, which only intensified my own orgasm. My eyes slammed shut, but I forced them open because I needed to see Rocky as he lost control.

His head fell back and a roar of pleasure tore through the air as his grip tightened on my tits. "Oh fuck," he groaned as his hands slid down to grip my hips, bucking up as his own orgasm erupted, shooting from his body into mine. I couldn't look away from the beautiful agony that twisted his features, not even when his body triggered orgasm aftershocks that rocked my body uncontrollably. I refused to look away, because when Rocky fell apart? It was a thing of fucking beauty. "Shit, Peyton."

I smiled as my body collapsed on top of his, my ear pressed right against the loud pounding of his heart. It felt good right here. Too good, almost like this was where I belonged. Don't be stupid, Peyton.

I needed to stop the fantasies from growing into more than what this was, an itch scratched. A need satisfied. However much I wanted this and the man who made me feel this way, he didn't want it.

He was determined to keep his distance and I needed to protect myself, to guard my heart.

"Peyton," he began, and I shook my head, shoving at his chest as I stood, slowly removing him from my body.

"I know, Rocky. I don't need the speech this time, I know that nothing has changed. This was just a good fuck." I snatched my discarded clothes from the floor and stepped around his big body, making a mad dash to my room before the tears fell.