Текст книги "Sometimes Moments"

Автор книги: Len Webster

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Callum’s tongue found hers and they discovered a rhythm of strokes begging of desperation and control. A moan escaped her, but she didn’t care. The last time she was ever this close to anyone was when she was seventeen. In this exact same spot.

Peyton lay back on the blanket, bringing him down with her, and he settled between her thighs. They both sighed at the contact of their bodies. Every thought she managed was placed in a dark room in her mind and locked. She needed this. She needed the pain to go away. And Callum’s mouth on hers was relief.

“Oh, God,” she softly moaned the moment he moved against her. Then she arched her back, moving her lips away from his as she experienced the small burst of pleasure.

Callum’s mouth went to her neck and slowly trailed up and down, ghosting his lips along her skin. The image of him crying wouldn’t leave her and she hoped this intimate act between them would drowned it out. After Peyton found the hem of his shirt, he propped himself up and looked into her eyes. She noticed a glint to those confusing grey pools. The control was either gone or broken. One or the other. He was reluctant and she was offering. And she knew that he needed direction.

“Tell me you don’t want this, Peyton. Tell me no,” he said between heavy pants.

Peyton, tell him no. You have some pride.

When she rested her body weight on her elbows, Callum moved back onto the blanket. She swallowed hard as she removed her thick coat, the desire and interest consuming Callum’s eyes.

Make him realise his mistake of walking away.

Peyton stood up, her eyes still on his. And as her fingers reached the hem of her shirt, she said, “Four years ago, you ruined me in this spot. You broke my heart. You made love to me here. Callum…”

His eyes saddened at her reminder of their first and last time together. “Yes, Peyton.”

She ignored the way his name sounded to her heart and bent forward, placing her hands on his cheeks. Then she looked him hard in the eye and whispered, “Fuck me.”

He flinched and his nose flared. He blinked once and looked her over. This wasn’t about love. It was about releasing the tension and feeling pleasure for the first time in a long time. He couldn’t give her love.

Callum held onto her hips and brought her down to his lap. The moment she straddled him, his eyelids tightly scrunched together and he swore under his breath.

“Fuck me, Callum,” she pleaded once more.

His eyes opened quickly just in time to see her pull the shirt off her body and throw it on the ground next to the blanket.

His fingers dug into her skin as he tried to compose himself, but his heavy panting was deceitful. He wanted this as much as she wanted it. Peyton hoped that this one moment of him fucking her would remove the innocent memory of their first time.

She reached behind and found the clasp of her red lacy bra. The sharp inhale from Callum was enough for her to unclip and remove it. His eyes never travelled south as she placed her bra with her shirt. The cool wind caused her to shiver, and his fingers dug into her more. When her hands moved to the button of her jeans, Callum’s quickly covered hers.

“I’m not fucking you, Peyton,” he said in a hoarse voice before he had her on her back. Then he quickly unzipped his hoodie and disposed of it and his shirt.

She tensed under him. Those weren’t the words that she’d expected.

“Last time to tell me no,” he said as he placed his hands on her jeans.

“You’re not going to get it,” she replied as she lifted her hips off the blanket.

His jaw clenched as he blinked at her.

Do it. Just fuck me, Callum. Taint our innocent times with this moment.

With a sharp inhale and a second to himself, he pulled down her jeans and underwear. The moment he had her naked, he stood up, unbuttoned his pants, and stepped out of them as well as his underwear. The light from the fire allowed her to take in the naked image of him. She admired the cherry blossoms wrapped around his arm and was just able to see the letters of her name on his wrist. Her heart ached. So instead, she kept focused on his face rather than his tattoos.

He reached down and pulled out his wallet, flipping it open and removing a condom. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest at the sight of the small package he held.

No. This has to be raw in order to taint our memories.

Peyton held out her hands. After a moment of his eyes floating over her naked body, Callum placed the condom in her palm and she threw it into the fire. He made a strangled sound, and she shook her head at him.

“I want you bare inside me,” she instructed.

Callum looked at the fire, watching the protection burn. “Peyton—”

She grabbed his hands in hers and pulled him back on her body. “I’m on the shot.”

Relief filled his eyes as he settled between her legs, and she felt him at her entrance. Then his hands were on the blanket as he held himself up. His eyelids were shut tightly, and Peyton refused to touch him. This wasn’t about feelings or a connection. It was about ruining her soul and memories.

When Callum opened his eyes, she winced the moment she saw them glaze over. It wasn’t what he wanted between them—she saw it. His watery eyes brought violent throbs to her heart, the pain spreading through her.

No.

She wanted this to be love. Seeing the vulnerability in his eyes was a glimpse of the past. Her fingers wrapped around his wrists as her thumb smoothed over her tattooed name.

“Callum,” she said.

The memory of him crying this morning flashed before. But it wasn’t a memory. It was reality. Callum, naked and beautiful, had tears in his eyes.

I want the truth.

If I can’t, I want as close to the truth as possible.

Peyton took a deep breath. “What’s the most honest and truthful thing you have ever said in your life?”

He tensed, confusion sweeping over his face. “The most honest and truthful thing?”

“Yes,” she said in a whisper.

He didn’t answer straight away. Instead, his lips pressed on hers. Kissing her slowly and passionately. Not as rough as before. More like he was savouring and treasuring her mouth.

Then he drew back and looked her in the eye. This time, she saw fear.

He propped himself on an elbow and used his hand to push back her hair before placing it back on the blanket. The different emotions that filled his eyes had her heart slowing down painfully. Waiting. His lips parted and he blinked once. Then his hips slowly thrust forward as he entered her. Stretching her.

Ignoring the pain, she concentrated on the feel of him inside her. His heavy pants mirrored hers. He stopped mid-thrust as he held himself over her. The muscles in his neck strained as he swallowed hard, but he didn’t push further, only stilling.

His eyes didn’t leave hers as he whispered, “I love you, Peyton,” and thrust hard and deep.

Her heart didn’t regain its beats. Instead, it died inside her chest.

Dropping his head into the curve of her neck, he pulled out. His heavy pants hit her skin as tears filled her eyes. Not blinking, the stars above morphed into blurry shades of black and spots of white.

“I love you, Peyton,” Callum he said breathlessly then thrust inside her, completely filling her. He stayed inside her before he said, “That’s the most honest and truthful thing I have ever said.”

“Say something,” Callum said quietly, still inside her.

Breathe. Please. Breathe.

Peyton couldn’t form words. Nothing. She kept her eyes on the night sky. With each moan of her name from his lips, she silently cried hard. She fell. Her self-control finally snapped.

Callum kept his word. Unfortunately, he didn’t fuck her. Instead, it was slow, desperate, and passionate—something Peyton regretted. It was the final chain breaking.

I’m in love with someone who’ll break me.

Four and a half years—that’s how long it had been since she was last intimate. After Callum, she hadn’t been interested in being that close to someone again. Being close scared her. But here she lay. Callum Reid inside her. She wished that he’d screwed her hard and painfully. But he hadn’t.

Her heart was split on whether or not she loved what they did. It wasn’t like last time. There were too many things unsaid, things that hadn’t been expressed. Each time he looked her in the eyes as he entered her, there was a flash of an apology.

But then she came. And he came. Almost together, a fraction off from a perfect unison. It was like he needed to see more than just her eyes when he shouted her name one last time before he collapsed on top of her. It didn’t help that she softly begged him not to stop as she dug her nails into his wrists. She wanted to touch him more. More than just his wrists and arms. But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t allow herself more. She needed the tattooed cherry blossoms under her fingertips as he filled her. Cherry blossoms gave her hope for the truth. He’d said it himself. They were a symbol of her for him.

Peyton continued to stroke the tattoo of her name on him. She couldn’t look him in the eye. She wasn’t sure how to feel. Wasn’t sure who she was in this moment. So she let her eyelids fall, trying to rekindle the hate she had for him. It was still there. It lingered. Not quite touching her heart’s surface.

“Please say something, Peyton.”

His soft plea had her opening her eyes to stare into the grey ones that had undone her all over again.

“Why didn’t you just—”

“I couldn’t,” he said, interrupting her.

The way his lips formed a frown had Peyton wanting to touch hers to his. She wanted to take away the pain, the guilt, and the secrets. But she knew it herself. She couldn’t set him completely free. That was all him. She could only get him so far.

I love you, Peyton.

She tensed at the thought. He’d said it. Twice. Never in the space of their relationship had he ever said those words to her. She didn’t trust the words he’d breathed against her ear as he’d found a slow rhythm that connected them in the most intimate of ways. She felt and heard her heart die inside her chest. The denial that she didn’t love him was ultimately crushed. They were right. They all were. She was still in love with him.

“We should go,” he said, shifting under her and attempting to pull out.

But Peyton gripped his wrist tighter. Her mind had finally succumbed to her heart’s persuasion. Her brain had betrayed the rest of her.

I need him to stay. Right here. Enough to let me have this before he takes it away. I need these sometimes moments.

He turned his head and stared at the way her hands wrapped around his wrist before he met her glance.

Peyton blinked and she breathed out. “Okay,” she replied, not really sure how these after-sex chats go.

“It’s been a while for me, Peyton, but I swear I’m clean.”

She nodded and relaxed her grip on his arms. Slowly, her thumb followed the branches of his tattoo. Once she circled the petals of a cherry blossom, he flinched, slightly thrusting inside her. A soft gasp escaped her lips at the surprise movement.

Don’t turn this into anything more, Peyton. You know what happens. He leaves. You stay. Don’t make this more. Make it a now.

“Peyton, I can’t be inside you like this. It shouldn’t have been this way. I don’t want to end up fucking you when you don’t deserve that,” Callum said as he slowly pulled out and removed himself from on top of Peyton’s body.

Peyton sat up then reached for her clothes. Without a word, they both dressed themselves. Callum’s back was towards her, and she noticed the flames of the fire dance against his skin. Peyton reached for her boots, unsure of exactly when he’d taken them off her. The moment their lips had met, her traitor brain hadn’t responded. Next she slipped them on and then her coat.

She crossed her legs and stared at the fire, not really sure what to say. The last time they’d made love, she’d lain in his arms until almost sunrise. Before they had packed up their things, he had dressed her and made her feel cherished. But this time, Peyton felt cheap and not of standard. She hung her head in shame and crossed her arms over her chest.

“How long has it been for you, Peyton?” he asked.

She turned to face him. His body was tense as he waited. “Don’t worry. I’m clean, too, Callum.”

“That’s not what I’m asking,” he said. “I could tell.”

He could?

Peyton uncrossed her arms and let her hands fall to her lap. “How long has it been for you?” she asked, stalling.

“Months,” he answered.

Her heart burned and then plunged. He had been with other women since her. She had known that, but it hurt to hear. Somewhere inside her, the old Peyton sobbed. The same Peyton who believed they would be forever.

“I need to hear you say it, Peyton. I need you to tell me that you’ve had others. I need you to say it. I need to hear it.”

And there it was. The same voice. The same desperation. The same way he’d said that he loved her.

Peyton stood up and took a deep breath. She didn’t look at him. Instead, she gazed out past the trees. Tonight wasn’t what she’d expected. She definitely hadn’t thought her resilience would break and she’d sleep with him.

“Would you rather I lie to you, Callum? I’m not the liar here.” Peyton’s focus shifted down to see him staring at the small fire. It was like his eyes flashed with every single fear that he had. His frown was one she didn’t like to see.

“I haven’t lied to you, Peyton.”

She balled her hands. “No. You just don’t tell me the truth.”

Callum reached over, took the bottle of water that was next to the pit, and poured it over the fire. Peyton watched the fire extinguish and stepped off the blanket in time for Callum to pick it up off the ground.

He faced her. “The moment that I decided to come back to Daylesford, my intentions were to never sleep with you, Peyton. As I drove into town, I hoped you were with someone. The love of your life. Anyone. I didn’t care who. I just wanted you to be unavailable to me. When I saw that ring, I was relieved. I was also jealous. But I was relieved because it meant I couldn’t touch you. I don’t lie to you, Peyton. I never have. I’ve kept things, but I haven’t lied. I have never lied.”

She pressed her lips together before she breathed out heavily. It was time to have the what-you-said-during-sex talk.

“When did you say those words?” she asked.

“I’ve said it three times in my life,” he said and walked past her.

Peyton quickly turned around and saw him walking up towards the hotel. “Three?” she called out, and he stopped.

He turned around and gripped the blanket tighter in his hand. “The first time was when you were sick in bed. I told you that I loved you and you said that you loved Mrs West’s cat. But you also said that you were sure you were in love with me. The second time was when you were in hospital. I was sure you were okay when I said it to you, but you quickly passed out. And the last time I said them was in the car as I left this town. But there was a fourth time. The night I packed up my things, your dad saw us load the cars.”

Her heart halted silently.

My dad.

Peyton took two steps forward and asked, “What did you say to him?”

He looked her straight in the eye. Without a blink, Callum said, “I’m in love with your daughter, Mr Spencer. I love her enough to do this to her.”

Her eyelids fluttered quickly at him. Her father had known that Callum was leaving. He’d kept it from her. Callum had confessed his love to her father but never her. He’d been a coward then just as he was now.

“You obviously didn’t love me enough, Callum. Love isn’t hurting someone like you did. Love isn’t what you’ve done or been doing for over four years.” Peyton paused. “Tonight was a mistake. Holding hope you’d come back was a mistake. Being with you at seventeen was a mistake. Loving you, Callum, is a mistake!”

He didn’t flinch. It was like he had expected it. He gave her a sad smile before he said, “Thank you.”

Madilynne: I hate you. I hate you so much!

Peyton: What for this time?

Madilynne: Because I have to return to that stupid town!

Peyton: So I’m guessing that you haven’t left yet.

Madilynne: No. I’ve packed and unpacked several times. Since we’re best friends, would you just give me the recommendation for my resume?

Peyton: You know I would.

Madilynne: And that is why I love you. But word spread quickly. My folks know that I’m coming home. Can’t run now. I’ll see you in a few days. Be a good girl until then.

Peyton locked her phone and put it in her jacket pocket. She could last a few days until her best friend came back to Daylesford. By the time Mads returned, Peyton would be busy with prepping the hotel for reopening and for the Reynolds’ wedding. She’d be too busy to deal with Callum.

Peyton’s shoulders sagged and she let out a sigh. The soreness between her legs didn’t help with forgetting him. Neither did the revelation that he had somehow loved her when they were seventeen. Not now. But then. It was Peyton who loved him now and then.

Shaking her head, she opened the front door and stepped outside, closing it behind her. She immediately hugged the jacket around her tighter. It was bitterly cold out and fog was in the air. She smiled, knowing just how beautiful the lake would look.

Peeking up, she stared at the Reid house. She’d been stupid to sleep with him, only because it meant more self-inflicted pain. After Callum had said, “Thank you,” he hadn’t said anything else. Instead, he’d walked her home. It had been different from their last night. When they were seventeen, it had taken them almost an hour for Peyton to sneak back into her room. They had sat under the cherry blossom tree until he’d decided it was best that she got back inside before her parents had discovered she’d snuck out.

I have to stay away.

The temptation to walk up to the house across the road swept through her. She wanted to speak to him. She also wanted to feel his lips on her again. Feel him close to her. But she couldn’t. The safe word had to be said out loud. Last night had been the ending. Nothing more.

Peyton slipped her hands into her jacket pockets and quickly walked down the steps. She needed to get to the lake and fast. There was no time to dwell on Callum Reid. She had already spent four and a half years doing so.

By the time she got to the bench, the lake was clear. She sat down and stared out at the lake, loving the way the fog didn’t touch the water’s surface. Instead, it rolled over, allowing the lake water to have its own space to breathe. One of the many reasons why she loved Daylesford. It was beautiful. There was no denying it.

Reaching into her pocket, Peyton pulled out her phone to check the time and the date. She wasn’t imagining the date. It was the first Monday of the month and just after eight a.m.; Graham was never late. Peyton was never the first on the bench. It was always Graham who was there waiting for her. With a victorious smile, she settled onto the bench and waited.

After almost an hour had passed, Peyton unlocked her phone and brought up Graham’s number. She looked over at the hotel, knowing that she was keeping Jenny, the hotel’s operations manager, waiting. With a deep breath, she called Graham.

“Hi, Graham Scott here. Can’t make it to the phone. Leave your details and I’ll get back to you.”

Peyton hung up and tried again.

And again.

And again.

The fourth time, she placed her phone on her lap and ran her hands over her face. Graham was never one to skip their tradition. Even when he was sick, he still made it.

Don’t be so paranoid, Peyton. It’s not what you think. You’re not losing Graham.

But then again, he’s never missed any of my calls.

She moved her hands from her face and stared out at the lake. The thought of losing Graham killed Peyton inside. She couldn’t lose him. She loved him. She knew she did. That’s why when he gave her the promise ring, she said yes. She looked at the faint tan line on her finger where the ring had once sat.

The screen of her phone lit up and caught her attention. Without a single thought, Peyton quickly answered her phone.

“Graham,” she said, relieved that he had called her back. She had known that he hadn’t forgotten.

“You called,” he said, sounding bothered by her.

Peyton flinched. “It’s the first Monday of the month.”

She heard him sigh before the line went quiet. Her eyes followed the roll of the fog on the lake as she waited for him.

“Honestly, Peyton, I don’t want to look at you let alone talk to you on the phone. I’m hung over.”

No.

Peyton let out a strangled sound. It was a sound she tried to suppress, but it escaped her. Her eyes stung as she held the phone tighter.

“It’s Monday, Graham,” she said, her voice betraying her. It made her appear weak.

She heard him take a sharp breath in. “You told Jay that I’d understand, but I don’t. We’re best friends. You could have just told me. I didn’t have to hear it from Jay. Right now, I’m disappointed in you. Let me be mad at you, Peyton. Just this one time, let me be mad. I’m sorry.” Before he let her respond, Graham hung up.

Peyton slowly removed the phone from against ear and stood up from the bench. She looked at the screen, hoping he’d call her back and say that it was a joke. But he didn’t.

Graham Scott had officially broken tradition.