He pulls off too soon, but then he’s positioning his cock at my hole and gently pushing forward. My body is drawn tight with lust, but I relax and let him in, and when he bottoms out, I change my mind. This is where I want to be forever.
“There’s nothing like being inside you.” His lips brush my temple.
He fucks me with steady, measured thrusts that gradually get harder and faster. I press back into him, heels digging into his ass, and with the angle he’s nailing me at, the pressure he’s putting on my prostate is insane. I’m oversensitive, right on the edge.
I cling to his shoulders, bringing his sweaty forehead flush with mine, before I reach down and wrap my hand around my leaking cock.
“Come, Payne,” I beg. “I want you to fill me up. Own me. Make me yours.”
“Oh, fuck yes.” He slams home, and feeling his cock twitch, knowing he’s unloading deep in my ass, is what sets me off too. My orgasm slams into me, and I stroke myself through it, cum landing on my chest and stomach as I tug him down to kiss me.
We stay like that for as long as possible—happy, trading lazy kisses—until Payne’s cock softens and slips out of my ass.
I wriggle under him. “Okay, let me up. I need to shower.”
“Urg, fine.” He presses another kiss to my mouth, then rolls off me.
I jump up and head for my door when Payne’s voice stops me midstep.
“Stay right there.”
I glance back over my shoulder. “What is it?”
“Just … one moment.”
I wait, trying not to squirm as cum slides out of my ass and runs down my legs.
“There it is …” Payne’s gaze is trained on my ass, and seeing the twisted smile that crosses his face makes my dick desperately want to regroup.
“There … what is?” I sound breathless as hell.
“I fucking love seeing my cum running out of your hole.”
I shiver. “Yeah?”
“It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I reach down and run my fingers through the mess, then slide them up into my ass crack.
Payne growls and climbs out of bed. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He pulls me back against his chest and ducks his head. “I forgot to give you this.” Then he sucks a mark into my neck.
I tremble. “Join me in the shower?”
“Try and stop me.”
He follows me, and even though I’m well and truly fucked out, we’re all roaming hands and soft kisses while we wash.
It’s not until we’re back in bed, falling asleep, that I remember one very important thing.
“Ah, so, also. There’s something you should probably know.”
He hums sleepily to show he’s listening.
“I was sad today and went to Marty, and now he knows about us. Good night.”
“Beau.”
I pretend to be asleep, and Payne lets out a long sigh. “Well, better you than me, I suppose. Just tell me, how much does he want to kick my ass?”
“Oh, yeah. You should probably steer clear for a while.”
“Motherfucker.”
I muffle a chuckle with my pillow, happy to let him think that until morning.
31
Payne
The Killer Brew is rowdy as we approach. The market side has been packed up for the night, but the bar is full and loud, live music is playing against the backdrop of conversation. The heavy thud of axes hitting targets comes from the back rooms, and the huge bar is thrumming with activity.
I squeeze Beau’s hand as we pass the bar and climb the stairs to the mezzanine area above.
Art invited me for drinks for Orson’s birthday, and I took the invitation as a request to show off Beau as mine.
We walk into the room, holding hands, and I try not to act too smug at having Beau with me. Especially when Griffin eyes us.
Orson points as we approach. “Oh, hey. This is a fun development. Griffin, Art, pay up.”
“Pay up what?” Beau asks, but I spin on Art.
“Dude, you were part of it too?”
He shrugs. “It seemed like an easy bet at the time.”
“You bet on us?” Beau asks, and now the asshole thinks to look guilty.
“I have a very boring life where I’m desperate for entertainment,” Art says.
Beau eyes him. “Who bet we’d end up together?”
Orson lifts his hand.
“I like you. The other two of you are dead to me.”
I laugh and pull him against me to kiss his head.
He stays with Griffin and Orson as Art and I break away to get drinks. There are a fair few people here, most guys from the DMC, some who I’ve met and some who I haven’t. Art keeps inviting me to catch-ups, but before now, I haven’t felt ready to embrace my divorced status. That’s all changed since I saw Kyle. Being divorced isn’t something to be pitied for. It was the best move for me, and without it, I wouldn’t be back in Kilborough, planning a kick-ass business idea and sharing it with a man who makes me smile all fucking day.
Art taps the bar top and signals for drinks, but before the woman behind the bar can reach us, the male server sidesteps her and slides in first.
“Hey, Arty.”
My friend sighs. “The good bourbon, thank you.”
“Anything for you, cutie.”
I hold back my amusement as the guy bats his eyelashes at Art in a very over-the-top way. He looks younger than us, maybe early thirties, with a stubbled jaw and shaggy brown hair, tied into a knot. His name tag reads Joey.
“Friend of yours?” I ask Art.
“Pain-in-the-ass employee.”
“What do you want to do to my ass?” Joey asks.
“I’m going to fire you one of these days,” Art warns.
Joey just smirks. “And lose this eye candy? I don’t think so.”
I smother my laugh, but Joey’s not wrong. He’s tall and built, with a face that’s somewhere between pretty and handsome.
And by the way Art’s eyeing him, he knows how good-looking his employee is. “One day I’ll get to work and find your resignation letter, and it will be the greatest day of my life.”
“So you’re saying threatening to quit is your idea of foreplay?”
“If it shuts you up, I’ll be in heaven.”
Joey’s stare turns challenging. “There are lots of ways you could shut me up.”
“Starting with reminding you who you work for and who you’re currently making wait.”
Joey grabs the bottle of bourbon and holds it out.
Art reaches for the bottle, and Joey tugs it out of reach before leaning in. “You’ll take me up on my offer one day.”
“Maybe when hell freezes over.” He takes the bottle, and Joey moves off down the bar to serve someone else.
“He’s a handful,” I say.
“You’re not wrong.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t taken him up on his offer.”
“He’s not serious.” Art reaches over the bar and hands me a stack of glasses. “He takes a different woman home every night, despite my no hooking up with customers rule.”
“Then why don’t you fire him?”
Art’s mouth forms a line. “So, Beau?”
I know what he’s doing, but I let him change the subject. “Yep. I didn’t expect it for a second when I moved in with him, but I’m so glad we happened.”