Текст книги "Slut"

Автор книги: Jettie Woodruff

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Again, I stomped angrily away from the counter, leaving my evidence for later. Or so I thought. I’d just closed the door when he called again.

“Bring the envelope.”

“No way. You’ll take it and not let me see it. I’m not bringing it.”

“For Christ’s sake, Gabriella. Get the damn envelope, or I’m coming after it.”

“I’m seeing what’s inside,” I demanded while I once again submitted, consciously and unconsciously to his ways. It was the only way I knew. Once I had retrieved the folder, snatching it from the counter with rage, I sent a glower to the camera, and slammed the door. Dumb me even locked the damn thing, knowing I wouldn’t be back. Paxton would never let me leave again. Ever.

I gave myself a pep talk the entire way up to the house, until I saw him that is.

The moon high above, casting beauty to the magnificent ocean had nothing on the beauty it cast in front of me. A soft glow fell over a dark silhouette. His hands were above his head, holding onto the top of the screen door. No shirt, jeans and bare feet were revealed as I neared him. Him and his stupid smirk. My internal pep talk to stay strong, not to take his shit, and hold my ground was forgotten. Chastising my absurd self-took its place.

“Good evening, Mrs. Pierce. How are you?” Paxton asked through a sneer and narrowed eyes, his body barricading the door.

I turned my lips to the left, giving him half a smile while I wondered if this new ‘Mrs. Pierce’ was because he didn’t know what to call me anymore. Izabella or Gabriella.

Neither one of us spoke. I crossed my arms while he stayed planted, keeping me from entering through the screen door with his rock hard body. No doubt about it, I was doomed.

“I said, good evening,” he repeated.

I looked up, wishing he’d drop his hands from the door. The position zoned in on too many of his good qualities. Like the tan line around his waist and his jeans, hanging loosely over his hips. Like the way his abs showed every possible, defined muscle. Like the way his chest and arms bulged, reminding me of how they looked when he towered above. The image of my legs wrapped around him staring at the same build refused to leave my mind.

“Jesus, move,” I said as my hands touched him, one on his chest and one on his ribs. His solid body stayed still, unmoved by my attempt to sidestep him. My fingers relaxed and my senses heightened, feeling him, really feeling him, his skin warm against mine. The folder in my hand made a crinkling noise as I unconsciously slipped it to my armpit.

He didn’t move. Not at all. His eyes bored into mine, but I refused to look. I stared past his right arm, to the pink Lego underneath a chase lounge by the pool instead.

I bit hard on my bottom lip when his hands moved from above to me. His fingers wrapped lightly around both my wrists, and he pulled them away from his body. It wasn’t until then that I realized I was still touching him, and enjoying it.

“Kiss me.”

I tried like hell to hide my laugh, biting harder on the inside of my jaw. “You’re crazy. Like batshit crazy.”

Paxton laughed that time. A real laugh. Not the fake kind I was used to. “I wonder what that makes you.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat while I watched his mouth move toward mine. “Good point,” I agreed as our lips met. Who was I to call anyone crazy? The fact that I was now kissing the man who had me arrested a few days before deemed me crazier than anyone I knew. Raging lunatic. I didn’t kiss him back, not at first. Paxton parted my lips with his tongue and I let him. I was okay with that. It wasn’t until he lifted my shirt and ran his hands up my ribs that I liquefied into him. Stupid, stupid, endorphins. Just like that, I became a puddle of erotic hormones, a lovesick teenager in heat.

I kissed him back while my body melted into his, sending an array of ecstasy searing between us. Things heated up quick, and I completely forgot about my problem. Paxton did not. He pulled away first, leaving me panting with a steady thump between my legs, and soft words to my lips. “Do you want to shower before you eat? Take care of that vagina problem you have going on?”

“That’s not my vagina problem anymore.”

Paxton snickered and kissed me with one more soft peck. “I know. Your clothes are on your bed. Don’t wake the girls,” he ordered as he slid the envelope from my arm. I tried to grab it, but he was faster and taller. Damn. I didn’t want him to have that first.

“Don’t open it until I get back.”

Paxton kissed me again and took a step back. “I don’t think you do the telling around here.”

I walked past him, shaking my head and rolling my eyes, not at him though, at myself. What the hell was wrong with me? Had to be the head injury, nothing else could explain my stupidity. I mean, come on, I had to fight the urge to take my clothes off. Geez. My internal verbal abuse halted when I walked into the house, a sense of unbelonging fell over me as I entered. It felt strange being there, like a lie, like I was a stranger. Unable to help myself, I did throw away a half-eaten pop tart and picked up Lucy the Lioness from the floor, tossing her to the sofa.

As hard as it was, I refrained from opening either door as I made my way to the end of the hall. Not because Paxton told me not to, but because I had the other problem to deal with first. I needed a shower and a tampon, and then I planned to open the doors, both of them.

The shower felt amazing, my lavender scented body wash was a missed delight, and my expensive shampoo beat the hell out of the cheap stuff I’d been using. I thought I was just spoiled, turned out to be the truth, you get what you pay for. I didn’t even mind the thongs Paxton laid out for me, they too felt missed. I decided then that I had indeed lost my mind. I seconded the motion when I applied makeup and lipstick. I didn’t even know why, it wasn’t like I could even seduce him, I was on my period.

I disobeyed, opting out of the clothes chosen for me. I didn’t need a nightgown because I wouldn’t be staying. The lie left my mind as I slid a psychedelic, green, blue, and orange, sundress over my head. Paxton wouldn’t let me leave. I knew it as much as he did.

My heart warmed as soon as my hand came in contact with the cold doorknob. It warmed even more when I saw my sleeping Rowan, curled in a cute little ball with a new stuffed cat cuddled in her arms. That explained why Lucy was all alone in the living room. She’d been replaced by her feline cousin. I brushed hair from her face and kissed her little cheek.

Her eyes fluttered open and then closed right before she realized I was really there. “Mommy! You got home. Daddy said you wasn’t leaving the hospital until the morning. Are you all better now? Why didn’t you call me? You said next time you would.”

I sat on the edge of her bed and hugged her tight, taking in the same lavender scent as my own hair. “I’m sorry, the phones weren’t working there. I told your dad to give you a big hug and tell you I love you every day.”

“Well, he did, but I still missed you.”

“I missed you, too. A whole, whole bunch,” I admitted as I squeezed even tighter. These two little girls sure did change things. They made me want to stay. I never wanted to be away from them. Ever.

“You don’t listen at all anymore,” Paxton said from the door. His demeanor had changed and I knew he looked. He wasn’t playful Paxton anymore, even his posture was stiffer, and his body was covered with a Florida State t-shirt.

“I couldn’t help it. I missed them,” I admitted to Paxton while turning to Rowan. “You go to sleep and I will see you in the morning,” I promised with a kiss to her nose.

“Promise?” she questioned, arms fighting to be freed from the tight cocoon, I’d tucked her into.

“Pinky swear. Night sweetie. I love you to the moon and back.”

“I love you, too,” she said through a yawn.

“Night, Row. Love you,” Paxton said as I walked past him and straight to Ophelia’s door, the nickname noted with a smile.

“You called her Row,” I accused.

“Shut up. Don’t wake her,” he ordered with a hand around my wrists, trying to keep me from going in.

“I have to. You go four days without seeing them. Tell me how you like it,” I said as the doorknob turned in my hand.

An audible breath was heard when he breathed deep, letting me go. I’m sure he knew he wouldn’t win this one. Lucky for him, it took two minutes with Phi. Unlike Rowan, she didn’t move a muscle. Not even when I moved her leg from an awkward position and covered her up. I kissed her forehead and whispered that I loved her while Paxton waited at the door.

“Your food is outside,” Paxton said with an open palm, letting me walk in front of him.

“And the drink?” I questioned, hair flipping around my shoulder as I tried to flirt and read him at the same time. He didn’t answer and the expression on his face was unnatural. Not like I was used to seeing from him. It wasn’t angry, it wasn’t smirky, and it wasn’t playful. That’s all I knew. This one looked like he’d been punched in the gut, causing me to worry about the evidence he knew and I didn’t.

I could see the stack of photos upside down in front of my plate, but I was a little more excited about the bowtie pasta, topped with my favorite. The first bite was all it took to realize it tasted as good as it looked. Art with a blast to my taste buds. He did well and I was impressed.

I hummed my delight, looking to Paxton, taking the chair to my left. “Hmmm, this is delicious. You made this?”

“Tricia did. I asked her to.”

I dropped my fork to the plate, causing it to clink against the china, and shoved it away.

“What?” Paxton asked like he had no clue. Idiot.

“Nothing, I just thought there for a minute you did something for me for once.”

“I did, I asked Tricia to make it for me.”

“Did you ask her to make it for you, or for me?”

The silence answered my question and I shook my head in disbelief. Unfortunately, I was hungry, and it was so good. I stabbed a piece of broccoli with my fork and plopped it in my mouth with a glare, sharp knives stabbing out his eyeballs.

“What the hell is this? Since when are you jealous over Tricia? This makes no sense.”

“Did you ever think maybe that it’s because I didn’t care then?” Once again silence fell between us as Paxton reflected on what I had just said. “And her sauce sucks,” I lied while pondering the unfamiliar taste saturated throughout my pasta. Chardonnay maybe. I secretly loved it.

“What does that mean, Gabriella?”

I took another bite and Paxton slid my plate close to me, sensing that my pride and ego wouldn’t let me do it. The same expression that I couldn’t read before reappeared, worry lines in the corner of both eyes.

“It means my sauce tastes way better than hers.”

Paxton smiled with a puff of air. “I’m being serious.”

I pulled both my legs below my butt and took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “I don’t have the advantage that you do, Paxton. I don’t know how I felt about Tricia before. I don’t really like her now. I hate the way she flirts with you, and she tried to say something mean to me one day. I put her in her place and she looked like I slapped her across the face. I don’t think we were friends before. Not like Mi. Mi is a true friend.”

Paxton blinked his eyes and shook his head, trying to keep up. “First of all, what did Tricia say? Why did you put her in her place?”

“We were watching you in the batting cage. She told me that she would love to show me how to love a man like you.”

“And you said?”

“That I didn’t need help with that.”

“And?”

“She said obviously I couldn’t. If I could, I wouldn’t be sleeping in my own room. I then told her to go fuck herself, and asked her how she took care of her own man while she thought about mine. I told her she couldn’t handle the things you do to me and walked away. And then you made me go to her stupid birthday party.”

“But you were never jealous before. They all flaunted their high maintenance asses around me, until about a month after your accident. They stopped. Now I know why. You stopped them, didn’t you?”

I shrugged my left shoulder as I shoved more food into my mouth. “I don’t go around hitting on their husbands.”

“Except Lane,” he said, quietly. “What do you mean your real friend?”

“Huh?”

“You said they weren’t real friends like you.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did. You said they weren’t like me.”

“Oh, Mi. Yeah, I’m not hearing voices,” I assured him with half a laugh. “Mi, she’s Nick’s girlfriend.”

“Who the hell is Nick?”

“He works with Lane. They helped me when you tossed me out to the streets.”

“I didn’t toss you to the streets. Lane was supposed to make sure you went into the hotel. I was only going to let you stay there for one night. Where’s the car? Why did you take the car?”

I took a deep breath and told the truth. “I needed what was inside.”

“What was that?”

“I’ll send you the video. If you thought I was fucking the neighbor, why would you let him take me to a hotel room?”

“What video? I don’t think you’re fucking him now. I think you were before the accident. Were you?”

My eyes went to the photos and my lungs filled with air all on they're own. “I don’t know, Paxton. I don’t know why I did a lot of things before I forgot who I was. I feel like I lived a lie. Not just one. Copious amounts of lies hover all around us, and I don’t know why. But you do.”

“I don’t know what lies you told me. You have a fucking twin sister, for Christ’s sake. Did you not think that should have been something we discussed?”

“I don’t know because I don’t remember. You tell me why, why would I ever feel like I needed to hide something like that from you? I loved her, I know I did, I still do, and I can’t for the life of me understand why I would hide her from you.”

“Did you ever think that maybe things are different because you’re not really who I married?”

I snorted with that one, but I knew it would come up. “You think I’m Izzy?”

“I don’t know. You’re so different, Gabriella. I don’t know you at all.”

“I think you do, and I think you’re afraid to admit it.”

Paxton spun my drink in a circle as his eyes dropped to the table. We stared briefly at each other, and then I slid my glass from his hand, asking the loaded question. “What if I am Izzy? What then, Paxton?”

His shoulders shrugged that time, and then sunk dejectedly. He stretched out his arms, took a deep breath of cool air, and cracked his knuckles. “I don’t fucking know.”

“Why did you have me arrested? Why couldn’t you just come to me? That hurts, ya know?”

“See, Gabriella, it’s not supposed to hurt. That’s the big change. You didn’t have that emotion. That’s why we worked so well together. We had an arrangement.”

“Yeah, so I keep hearing. What do you expect from me, Paxton? What do you want?” I questioned as I sipped the delicious drink, wondering if Tricia made it, too.

“I don’t think you’re my wife.”

“I think you’re wrong, but only partially.”

“What do you mean by that?”

There was no easy way to say what I knew I had to say. It had to come out, but that wasn’t what I was afraid of. I had the courage to tell him about our switch when we were eleven, however I couldn’t make him believe me. Hell, I wouldn’t believe me either. I knew our lives were about to change in one way or another. I knew that I had to come clean with what I knew, I had to tell him about Vander, and I had to tell him my plans to go after him. What scared the hell out of me was his reaction. As much as I wanted to keep my pride and ego from getting hurt, I needed him more. For Vander’s sake.

“Gabriella?” he had to say to get my attention.

“I did marry you. I’m sure of that, but I am Izabella.”

He didn’t even look shocked, and I did see and hear a bit of anger with his response.

“Of course, you’re going to play that card, and I’m supposed to believe it, too, right?”

I shrugged my shoulders, letting him know that I didn’t know while moving my wet hair to the side. A swallow stuck in my chest as our eyes locked, and I waited. Waited for what, was the question.

Six

My fingers tapped the sheet of paper while I anticipated turning it over. Paxton didn’t say a word, which made it even worse. He stared at me, awaiting my reaction. One more sip from my drink and I flipped the first page, the one from the hospital in Del Mar California. That was a lie. I didn’t remember anyone telling me that Izzy and I were born on a beautiful island in Brazil, but I knew I had been fed that by my mother. I could even picture Izzy and I, sitting Indian style while she told the untruth, engrossed in every word she said.

“I bet I was never in Brazil,” I snorted while reading the hospital report from the very place I’d been born in. California.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I said as my eyes scanned the paper. Possible hernia on baby number two; the report said to have it checked in six weeks. I doubted that happened. We were probably sleeping in a drawer along the interstate by that time.

I continued to flip pages, engaging in a Q and A as I learned information from Paxton’s investigation first. The nice gentleman that he was placed them in the order he wanted me to learn first.

“Don’t say nothing, Gabriella. I need to know what the fuck is going on here. You need to talk to me,” Paxton said while ensuring my intentions.

“It doesn’t even matter, it’s stupid. My mom, I’m sure she told Izzy and I that we were born in Brazil. I can almost describe it, but I don’t remember why. That’s it. I didn’t know I was born in California.”

Paxton’s eyebrows turned toward the bridge of his nose. “You knew that. We got married, we had to send for your birth certificate, remember?”

I tilted my head and smirked at him with twisted lips, replying with sarcasm. “Funny.”

I didn’t remember that, and truth be known, I didn’t want to. I liked the image of my twin and I coming into the world surrounded by Mother Nature and beauty. I had no problem at all, envisioning being snuggled with my carbon copy, nestled in our mother’s arms. Her beautiful smile held the same beauty as the turquoise water, and I could hear every crashing wave. I preferred to hang on to that story, the one where peace existed; the day that two tiny newborns were brought into this fucked up realm. Hell.

The next page revealed a degree in agriculture and landscaping.

“Explain that one. If you’re not really Izzy, why would you know about trees that attract birds or how to make a fake waterfall?”

I shrugged my shoulders at that one, too. “I married you. You don’t think any of that rubbed off? That I don’t hear you on the phone, ordering concrete or tile, trees and plants? You don’t think I hear you while you tell your guys where to go, what you want done, and why? You go into great detail about how and why you want things. Maybe I’m just not as dumb as you think I am. Maybe I am capable of remembering what you say. You think?”

“Yeah, I mean. I guess that’s possible, but I’m still not convinced. You never gave me your opinion on my business before.”

“I was probably afraid to because you would bite my head off.”

“But now you’re not. Why? See that’s the part that I’m confused about. Gabriella would never tell me where to plant a tree, or laugh at my choices, but Izzy? Now that seems more logical to me.”

“Coincidence? That’s all I got.”

“Sure it is.”

I sipped my drink and continued on my journey through the stack, learning new facts about my life, about Izzy’s life. “She lost her basketball scholarship,” I sadly read aloud.

“That one baffles me a little, too. You’re pretty good at basketball. Did you both play?”

“This really pisses me off. You can’t help me with any of these answers, because you don’t know. You never cared enough about me to find out.”

Paxton stood and ran his fingers through his hair, his newly cut hair. That pissed me off, too. I was in jail, and he was out worrying about his looks.

His frustration with me was as strong as mine was with him. “That’s not supposed to piss you off, Gabriella. We didn’t walk hand in hand and have long talks along the beach.”

“Why not?”

More vexation ran across his face and he growled. “Because that wasn’t us. We didn’t do that, and don’t ask why. What was in the car?”

“What car?”

Another growl. “The Honda. You said you wanted what was inside.”

“Can we stay on one thing for a minute? I told you I would show you the video.”

“What video? Where is it?”

“I have to get Mi to send it to my email. Just wait.”

Paxton picked up my phone and went to my messages. I watched, shaking my head in annoyance. There were no messages, but her number was in there. “This it? This nine, three, one, number?”

“Yes, Paxton. Oh my, God. You’re insane.”

“Keep going. I’ll just send her a nice little message, asking her to email it to you. Do you want me to use the one you’ve always used, or do you have a secret one?”

“Fuck you.”

That stopped him dead in his tracks, causing that rush of adrenaline I hated to surge through my veins. My heart settled when he turned back to my phone with only a look of warning, nothing physical like I expected after seeing that expression. “Don’t, Gabriella. This is bad enough without you adding fuel to the fire.”

Choosing to keep my thoughts to myself, I internally turned the table. Seriously? I was the one tossing gasoline to the flame? Fuck you.

I flipped through two more pages of Paxton’s investigation before getting to Candace’s. Nothing more really, not anything helpful anyway. Izzy checked into rehab three times, and she had a drunk driving charge. Not one word about Vander.

“Those were taken a week before your accident. Why are you going into Lane’s office, and where are my girls while this was all going on? Oh yeah, you don’t remember.”

I didn’t even respond. There was no point. Paxton wore blinders wider than the wings of a seabird. He didn’t hear me, not one word unless it was taken out of context. Paxton gave a whole new meaning to the narcissist’s diagnosis. He held the title, proudly.

The first photo was just what he said, me walking up the steps to Lane’s work. The look on my face showed an uneasiness and my eyes looked focused, scanning the area for anyone who might see me. The next one was in Summit Park where I took the girls sometimes. They loved feeding the ducks their lunch. My hands were in my face like I was crying. Lane’s arms held me to his chest and his lips puckered to my hair.

“My fucking kids are right back there. You see that, Gabriella? You fucking met him where our kids played.”

I hadn’t even noticed that until he pointed it out. Their backs were toward the camera, but sure enough, it was them, both trying to fly cheap kites. Again, I didn’t comment. I flipped to the next photo, shaking my head. It was official, I had an affair with Lane. We were parked outside the grocery store where I shopped; where Candace shopped. Once more, Lane had his arms around me, and my face was buried in his chest. The next one was in public; we were seated at a bistro table outside a little deli that I didn’t recognize. My eyes were concentrated on his finger, pointing to something on a white piece of paper, a golden envelope laying beneath it.

“I know where this is,” I admitted while my eyes stayed on the photo.

“What?” Paxton questioned as he slid into the chair beside me.

“This envelope. I know where it is.”

“Where?”

Tired of all the lies, I really did plan on telling him until my phone rang. The number displayed the only friend I had in the world. Paxton and I both stared at it.

“Answer it,” he ordered as he slid it my way.

“Hey, Mi.”

“Oh my, God. You’re not going to believe this, Gabby.”

“I don’t know if I want to hear it.”

“You do. It’s the answer to all your questions.”

“What do you mean?”

I looked up to Paxton when he took the phone right out of my hand. He hit speaker and placed it between both of us.

“Nick knows. He knows everything because he’s been working with you for over a year.”

“Mi, you’re on speaker phone and Paxton is sitting right here,” I suddenly said for whatever reason. I didn’t even know where it came from. It was like a defense mechanism, instantly taking over my mind and mouth.

“Oh, hey, Paxton.”

“Say it. What do you mean Nick has been working with her?”

Mi sounded nervous when Paxton spoke. “Gotta go, I’ll catch you later, Gabby,” her voice cracked a little and she hung up.

Both our eyes moved from the blinking number to each other’s. Paxton straightened his spine and leaned toward me on his elbows, face showing his anger. “What the fuck, Gabriella? I thought you wanted this. I thought you wanted all the answers. Changing your mind now that you realize you’re nothing more than a lying slut? Is that it?”

My eyes widened as he moved in closer, and once again, something took over, something inside me. I was possessed. Or crazy. Yes, crazy. That had to be it. My lips touched his and my tongue dove into his mouth. Just as shocked about my own actions, Paxton surprised me even more, he kissed me back, devouring my mouth with his. I didn’t even realize we’d come to a standing position until I felt the breeze moving up my dress as it rose with his hands. He walked me backward to the cabana bed and pushed me back.

“I’m on my period,” I reminded him as I crab-crawled backward to the bed, legs parting on their own, while my mind did some sort of confusing dance.

“You’re fucking whacko. That’s what you are. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with you?” I countered with heavy pants, feeling the heated moment rush through my bloodstream, filling me with the poison I was so addicted to. I was whacko. A bat shit crazy lunatic.

Paxton didn’t answer with words that time. He pushed out on my right leg and shoved his hardness into the sudden pulse going on between my legs. That made it even worse, even more fucked up. Evidence displayed on the table about my relationship with Lane, Mi’s new information, the envelope hidden in the tiny closet, none of it mattered at that moment. Not to me and not to Paxton. We kissed while our hands wandered, exploring each other’s bodies as if it were the first time. My hands tugged on his shirt, wanting to feel his chest, and his moved my dress over my breasts. I moaned an incoherent cry when his teeth bit hard on my nipples, sucking and pulling them between his lips.

His hips pressed against my pounding button, and mine reacted, rotating toward the erection behind his jeans. Paxton stopped briefly, moving his body to the side. His finger slid up the satin between my legs while I continued to circle my hips into him, into anything.

“Your panties are wet,” he whispered in the sexiest, raspiest tone I’d ever heard from his lips.

“Make it come,” I begged, desperately, shifting my hips forward.

“I want to spank you.”

“No, I’m on my period,” I complained while trying to shove him back.

“So what? You think we haven’t had sex this time of month before?”

“Um, did we?” I questioned realizing I didn’t remember that.

“Of course we did.”

The next thing I knew, my body was tossed to the position he wanted me in. At his direction, I was rolled to my stomach, pulled to the edge, and handcuffed by his hand, holding mine to my back.

“This is so fucked up,” I audibly admitted as I felt my hands being tied by an unknown object. A nylon belt, maybe. I realized it was a tie back to one of the curtains when the moon disappeared behind the drapes.

“Shhh, don’t talk, baby girl.”

My eyes closed and I again chastised myself. I was weak. So fucking weak. I couldn’t fight this man if my life depended on it. I couldn’t fight it because I didn’t want to. I loved him. Jesus, why did I have to go and do that?

My breath caught when I felt my panties being slid from the crack in my ass, slowly. With the same pace Paxton rubbed both my butt cheeks, and once again, I tried to part my legs for him. I handed over all access with great pleasure. He could have it. I just wanted to come.

I moaned again when I felt a finger slide between my slippery folds, to the pucker of my ass, and back to my cheeks. My wrists pulled against the restraint and I cried out with the first slap, relaxing as his hand massaged away the sting. Painful pleasure enveloped my body with every loud crack, every finger sliding through my slit, and every kiss and suck to my body.

“How many was that, baby?” he questioned, whispering hot words to my spine.

I replied through an erotic moan. “Five.”

“How many more do you think you deserve? Huh? How many, slut?” His fingers pinched hard on my nub kept me from responding to the term. He knew that. That’s why he paid special attention to the area I needed him to focus on.

“Five,” I said as I shoved back toward his fingers. I don’t know why five, that’s just the number that came out, and the number that he gave me. My ass was on fire by the tenth blow, and my need to climax was ridiculous.

Paxton kissed my burning cheeks with soft lips, carefully easing the pain. My eyes opened when I felt him move, leaving my fiery butt to cool with the evening breeze. The sound of his zipper caused the rhythm of my heart to pick up a little with anticipation. I knew where it would be going, and I wanted it. My eyes looked up to his, but immediately dropped to the rod he stroked in his hand. Like a crazed animal, hungry for his flesh, I lunged for it, taking it to the back of my throat with a pleasurable moan. Paxton’s moan matched mine, and he held my head, keeping me from controlling the situation. He hissed, and grunted as he slid in and out of my mouth.

“Slow down. You like it when I fuck your mouth, don’t you, slut?”

Nope, not saying a word.

His hands shoved my shoulder and I rolled more to my back, staying slightly on my side due to the limitations behind my back. My legs once again opened on their own, and Paxton slapped me there. His cock would dive to the back of my throat at the same time the tips of his fingers stung my aching nub. He toyed with me like this for what seemed like an eternity, sliding in and out of my mouth while his fingers did a number on my control.

Once I was to the top, there was no coming back. I would have finished it myself had Paxton denied me. I felt the first peak and slid his rod from my mouth. “Oh, yes. Keep doing that. Right there. Hmmm, yes, yes, right there, baby,” I moaned while he applied rapid slaps to my exploding clitoris. He tried to slide back in my mouth a couple times, but I couldn’t do it. I was about to come, and my clenched jaw refused to let him in.