Chapter 7

Rocky

Iarrived at the clubhouse feeling annoyed as fuck by my attraction to the woman my son used to date. How fucked up was that? I felt like a scuzzy old man lusting after a twenty-year-old stunner, but she was tempting as hell, and the way she eye-fucked me this morning made it hard to remember why I had to keep my hands to myself.

"Why so grumpy, bro?" Gio clapped me on the back, a shit-eating grin on his face as if he already knew the reason for my bad mood.

"I'm not grumpy," I growled, and shrugged his hand off me. "Where is everybody?"

"The office," he answered easily, hazel eyes still amused as he followed me. "So, for real, what's up? You seem like a bigger asshole than usual."

I punched my kid brother in the arm.

"See what I mean?" He laughed and stepped into the office right in front of me, rubbing his arm. "Watch out, somebody pissed in his cornflakes."

"What's going on?" Diesel asked.

"I had a visitor last night." I scrubbed a hand over my face and prepared to tell them I'd roped us into… something.

Gio laughed and shook his head as we all sat down. "All these dramatics just to let us know you got laid? Unbelievable."

"Not that kind of visitor. And why the fuck would I be grumpy if I got laid, dumbass?"

Gio snorted and shrugged. "Oh, yeah. Good point."

I sighed. "Nah, Peyton Brooks appeared on my doorstep in the middle of the night," I said, and then launched into the past few hours of my life. "And she asked for my help."

Diesel frowned. "Why you?"

"She knows Nolo," I hedged.

"Yeah, cos she used to date him." Gio, the little shit, couldn't keep his mouth shut. "Rocked his world for, like, five minutes before she dumped the poor kid."

"Oh, that girl, the heartbreaker," Diesel said in an ominous tone. "That's fucked up."

"Yep," I said, as I leaned back in my chair. "That about sums it up."

"Still nothing on the message you sent last night," Slate offered with an apologetic shrug. "The guy covered his tracks well, but not so good that I can't figure out who he is. It'll just take some time."

"Thanks, brother."

"Do you plan to tell Nolo that his ex is living with you?" Diesel watched me a little too closely and I wondered if he could somehow see how badly I wanted Peyton.

"Fuck no. He'll try to play hero to impress her or pull some shit and get himself killed." I turned to Gio with a serious expression. "Don't say shit to him about this. I mean it,you little snitch."

"I won't," he promised. "But you can't keep it from him forever, and he's gonna be pissed when he finds out."

"I don't need to hide it forever, just long enough to find out where the threat is coming from." Nolo stopped over from time to time, so it wasn't going to be a secret, just a fact he didn't know for as long as possible.

"We'll help track this guy down," Diesel decided. "Maybe it'll garner us some goodwill with Cross. But it's probably best you keep her at your house for now. The fewer people who know where she is, the better."

I clenched my jaw hard. "Yeah, I guess."

"No one who knows her has any reason to think she'd be at your place or here, and right now, surprise is the one thing we have going for us. Slate will keep digging into the text message and I'll go talk to Cross, see what I can get out of him. I'll update the rest of the brothers at church."

"So about all those encrypted files—" Slate started, but Diesel cut him off before he could finish.

"Yes,you still have to work on those. Meeting adjourned."

Slate slumped in his chair with a sigh. "Great."

I hated that Diesel's words sent a wave of relief pulsing through me, but they did. I got to have Peyton around a little longer, even if all I could do was look at her.

Peyton was my son's ex-girlfriend, so nothing could happen between us. Nothing would happen. She was just someone I was protecting, that was all. I was her bodyguard and her roommate, nothing more. She was someone who needed help, not a redheaded temptress with curves for days and pouty lips I couldn't stop thinking about being wrapped around my cock while those big blue eyes danced with mischief.

***

She made dinner.

I came home from a long day, and there she was in those tight booty shorts and a loose-fitting tank top, hair up in a messy red bun, and cooking for me. Peyton fucking made me dinner. And dessert. Not just any dessert, but a rich and chocolatey devil's food cake. My favorite. How she knew, I had no idea, which only made things—especially my cock—harder than ever. I couldn't focus. Couldn't concentrate on anything but the woman with the sweet smile and sexy curves.

"You don't have to cook for me."

"I have to eat too, don't I?" She shrugged and threw me a quick look over her shoulder as she stirred something in a pan. Not a lick of makeup on the girl, and yet she couldn't have looked more beautiful in that moment. "Nothing else to do all day, so I decided to cook. Dinner and dessert. Eat or don't eat, the choice is yours."

I waved a bag at her, "Got you some clothes and essentials—don't get too excited but there's leggings, a few tank tops, t-shirts, panties and women's stuff. Diesel's old lady went out and got them, so they should be classy."

She stopped stirring for a moment and fixed me with a smile that almost stopped my heart, "Thanks, I appreciate it, really."

"I'll leave them on your bed."

I headed upstairs and stepped inside the shower with the water cranked as cold as it would go, trying to shock my system out of the image of Peyton—young, fresh, gorgeous Peyton in her booty shorts, cooking for me. Why was my cock was trying to twitch to life now, for her little ass, when it felt nothing for Simone who'd practically been gagging for it?

I didn't know, but the image of Peyton on her knees before me, gagging on me, needed to be cleared immediately from my mind, and I showered as roughly and quickly as I could.

Then I took my time drying off and stepping into a pair of navy-blue sweatpants, gathering my wits before going down to the woman who had cooked for me.

Peyton stood in the kitchen like she belonged there, and I couldn't deny that she did. She looked perfectly at ease as she pottered around throwing pans and spatulas into the sink, frankly making more mess than she was cleaning, but I did not give a flying fuck. Mess could be cleared, but staring at her shapely thighs and flared hips straining against her denim shorts while she was in mykitchen? Bliss.

She glanced over her shoulder at me with a smile. "You're eating, then?"

"Yeah," I managed, distracted.

"Guess you are hungry after all."

"Starved," I muttered, unable to control the way my eyes traveled the length of her body as I came to a stop by the kitchen table. She watched me for a long moment, head tilted to the side, a few red curls slipping out of her messy bun to slide across the skin of her shoulder. Then she smiled, looking mischievous, and turned to where she had her cake on display. My eyes immediately dropped to the slight outline of her cheeks that I could see below her denim shorts as she bent to cut a slice. And my boy twitched to life once again, even though my skin hadn't even had time to warm from my cold shower yet.

"I thought you might like to start with dessert," she cooed softly. Her fork sliced through the cake, and she held it up to my lips. "Taste it."

"Peyton…" I was suddenly painfully aware that I hadn't put a shirt on, as her eyes dipped briefly to my chest. But she just shrugged and leaned her pert little ass on my table.

"It's just cake, Rocky. Relax."

My hands bunched and flexed at my side. This was a dangerous game.

"Open your mouth," she demanded, her voice husky and amused, and I sighed and gave in.

I opened my mouth and waited patiently until the chocolate and buttercream burst on my tongue. My eyes slammed shut and I leaned my palm over the table, dangerously near her ass. "Holy fuck, Peyton."

She let out a giggle of joy. "Right?"

"It's fucking good." I opened my eyes to find her face near mine. "Where'd you learn to bake like this?"

"It was my aunt's secret recipe." Her eyes dipped to my lips as I licked away a crumb, which made my own gaze drop to hers as she spoke. "She swore she'd take it to her grave, refusing up and down to tell anyone her secret."

I smirked. "But you managed to wrestle the recipe from her?" Naughty girl…

Peyton shrugged and looked down. "After the fourth time Child Services took me away from home and dumped me on her, she caved and taught me how to bake it. We used to make it together all the time after that. Now, she's dead."

I blinked, my smile fading, and I lifted a hand to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. "I'm sorry."

She forced a smile and looked back at me. "I make it sometimes when I'm feeling lonely."

My hand remained by her ear, and I brushed my thumb over her cheek, my mind going fuzzy as her soft, floral scent slowly enveloped me. "Sorry I had to leave you here alone all day."

She shrugged again. "No biggie." Then she lifted her fork, her eyes intent on my lips as she waited for me to accept another bite of her cake. I leaned closer and took it slowly.

"Fuck me," I said quietly. "This is it best devil's food cake I've ever had."

Her lips stretched in a genuine smile this time. "You've got chocolate all over your mouth."

I raised my brows, but before I could so much as move, she darted up a finger to wipe it away, before popping it in her mouth.

My breath caught in my throat, and my eyes homed in on her plump lips sucking on her finger.

"Anyway," she says, as her finger slipped out from between her lips, and she turned to walk away. "Dinner is—"

My hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her body flush against mine. "It can wait," I whispered, and took her lips in a long, slow kiss, swallowing her surprised gasp like it was sweeter than her cake.

Her lips were soft and pliable, her tongue nimble and excited as the kiss intensified. It turned raw and visceral with loud moans escaping from us both, two sets of hands grasping and clutching at the other. She tasted as good as I knew she would. No, fuck that, she tasted even better, like chocolate and buttercream and something that was undoubtedly, unmistakably Peyton.

Peyton pressed her mouthwatering curves into the hard planes of my body. Her arms wrapped around me. Then she bent up one knee, standing on her toes so she could rest it over the table, and I took the opportunity to scoop her up by the ass, gripping each of her cheeks roughly as I lifted her against me, so the hot triangle between her thighs surrounded my cock.

"Peyton," I growled. "I need you. Now."

"I'm right here," she whispered. "Yours for the taking."

My cock ached painfully as I rolled my hips into her, holding her tight against me, and her eyes fluttered shut, her head falling back even as her ankles tightened behind my back.

"So fucking beautiful," I moaned, turning and laying her across the kitchen table. "Tell me to stop," I urged as my heart raged inside my chest, my breaths coming out in sharp, ragged gasps.

She smiled at me and rolled her hips. "Don't stop, Rocky. Don't ever fucking stop."

That was all I needed to hear to strip those itty-bitty denim shorts down her long legs. And then her panties, until she was pink and wet and bared to me. "Look at this pussy, so wet and slick. Just for me?"

She nodded. "Just for you."

My cock twitched in my jeans and I leaned forward, using my shoulders to spread her thighs wide. "Tell me how you like it," I growled, and fixed my lips on her wet pussy, licking and sucking her clit, slipping my tongue deep inside her dripping opening.

"Rocky, yes!" She moaned her pleasure as her fingers speared through my hair. "Holy fuck. Just like that."

I pulled back and smiled, slipping one and then two fingers deep. "You're so hot and wet, pulsing around my fingers. I love a wet pussy, Peyton."

"Show me," she dared, and swirled her hips again, dragging her clit along my tongue when I bent back towards her. "Ah, fuck. That. That right there." She gripped my hair and fucked my mouth like the dirty girl I needed in that moment.

I added a third finger, stretching her out as she continued to ride my hand and my mouth.

"How quickly can this wet little pussy come for me, hmm?" I rasped against her slick folds. "Can you do it? I need to feel you come in my mouth. I bet you'll be sweeter than any fucking cake."

Her back bowed off the table as I closed my lips over her clit and suckled, pumping my fingers harder and deeper, and her legs wrapped around my neck as the orgasm took over, shaking her body in hard, body-wracking convulsions. She cried out with a deep, throaty moan, her hands never leaving my hair and she shook and shivered through her orgasm, flooding my mouth with her pleasure.

"Mmm," I hummed, licking up every fucking drop. "Delicious."

"Holy fucking shit, Rocky." She laughed and shivered again, hips still swirling against my mouth. "That was perfect."

"You're fucking perfect." I kissed her pussy one last time before I flipped her over and pulled my shaft out of my slacks.

"Are you ready for this cock, baby girl?" I leaned down to drag my tongue along her throat, letting her feel how hard I was for her as I slid my length down along her wetness, coating myself in her slick. "Can you take it?"

She gasped and arched her ass into me, and I squeezed my eyes shut briefly. Jesus, she was still leaking, drenching me in her juices.

"Yes," she moaned. "Please, I'm ready. Fuck me."

I stood upright, and then slid my cock deep in one long, slow thrust. "Fuck. So tight."

Peyton arched and I fell deeper into her damp heat, so deep my eyes rolled in pleasure for a moment. She gasped when I smacked one ass cheek and then the other. "Fuck," she moaned. "I love the way you fill me up, Rocky."

My control snapped and I pounded into her hard and fast and out of control. Gripping her hips, I plunged deeper and deeper, losing myself in the feel of her wet pussy clenching and pulsing around me. She was close and I needed to feel her strangle my cock with her orgasm.

She arched again and I gripped her hips so her toes barely brushed the ground, pounding into her. "Oh fuck, yes! Harder. Fuck me, Rocky."

I didn't need to be told twice. I gripped her harder, smacking her ass while my cock speared into her over and over.

She paused and her body tensed, her pussy gripping me in a vise grip, the wettest, strongest fist imaginable, and then she came all around me, leaking and pulsing as pleasure flowed out of her. "Oh. My. Fucking. God."

Those last words squeezed the life out of me, and my cock thickened before it spilled deep inside her, splashing against her walls while she trembled with aftershocks and small fluttering pulses. Completely spent, I collapsed on her back.

She laughed. "That was even hotter than I imagined."

Her words knocked me for a fucking loop, and I groaned. "You imagined this?"

She nodded, her cheek pressed against the kitchen table. "Oh yeah. This morning in the bathtub. After lunch in my room. While you showered upstairs," she admitted around a shiver.

My cock was getting hard all over again and I pulled back and tossed her over my shoulder, determined to spread her out over my bed and fuck her until she begged me to stop. I made it a few steps before she sank her teeth into the muscle of my ass.

I flipped Peyton onto the sofa and spent the next few hours getting lost in her body. I took her every way imaginable, fucking her fast and hard, long and slow, deep and intense, spilling deep to mark her as mine.

Hours later, we finally managed to sit down for dinner, and it was almost as delicious as the woman who'd made it.

Almost.