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I lean my head back against the couch and look up at her. With my right hand, I brush her hair away from her face.
“You are breathtaking, absolutely breathtaking, Mrs. Addison.” I whisper, smiling up at her.
She cups my face with her hands and leans down to kiss me. It’s a soft kiss at first, hesitant, as we’re still new and she’s unsure of how much dominance she can unleash.
Our tongues lash against one another and I melt into the cushions as all of my senses are filled with her. Her touch. Her taste. Her presence alone is making my thoughts move from purely passive to aggressive. I want to tear off our clothes and I want to lay her down on the couch. Instead, I pull my head back slightly, breaking the kiss.
“Food,” I whisper against her lips. “We haven’t eaten since Portland.”
“You mentioned takeout? What’s good around here?” She asks quietly, her lips returning to mine to lightly brush against them, sending jolts of want and desire through my body.
I have to get up, but I don’t want to. Having her so close to me is all I want right now, but I need to remember that she’s not going anywhere, at least not if I can help it.
As if reading my mind, she smiles and presses her fingers against my mouth. “To be continued,” she promises, “but feed me otherwise, you’re not going to like me anymore.”
I laugh. As if that is possible.
“What happens?” I grin.
“I turn into a moody teenager, and teenager Peyton, you want nothing to do with. She’s a total brat and very stubborn.” She leans down for one gentler kiss then moves to sit beside me.
“Food, okay. Sustenance, I can do this. I just need one minute here before I get up.” I say, willing my cock to soften and not make me look like the teenage counterpart.
She looks down at my lap knowingly.
“It’s okay you know, it might help my ego.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
I laugh and shake my head, stand up, then adjust myself with her laughing.
“Follow me,” I hitch my head over towards the kitchen.
I open my takeout menu drawer to a gasp from her.
“What the hell, this is the first of its kind that I’ve seen of this,” she says.
“What?” I ask her puzzled.
“You have an entire drawer of menus, who does that?”
“Um, I do. I work a lot and don’t cook. So, when I am home, I order in.”
“Am I going to be eating alone while I’m here?” she asks nervously.
“I’m going to do my best to not let that happen, I promise” I tell her with absolute confidence.
And hope that I can keep my word.
Chapter Eleven
“This one time in Vegas, we drank for free at the same bar three nights in a row, because we were the best pole dancers on their public poles - but then we lost our friend then I threw up in their trash can!”
PEYTON
Seattle is amazing.
One moment it’s raining and the next its clear skies, smelling fresh and looking as if Mother Nature scrubbed the scenery clean. Sure, it rains in Los Angeles, but not nearly enough. And besides, the landscape here is vastly different than there.
At home, it’s a concrete jungle. Freeway upon freeway, with any true nature being in the canyons or an hour away with traffic. In Seattle, there’s seasons and from the large windows of Max’s penthouse condo, I can see city, water and across the bay it looks like a whole lot of nature.
