wasn’t receptive to …talking.”
“No,” Payton was quick to answer, “and thank you, Mr. Easton. The flowers are lovely.” Over-the-top lovely, she mused, thinking the exclusivity of the arrangement and endless blooms must have set him back hundreds. Then she appraised his superior clothing with a sweeping glance, reminding herself hundreds were pennies to an Easton.
Once again, he held out his hand to her, his eyes burning with…could that be open lust? And he didn’t care that Libby was looking on. “You must call me Avery.”
Payton felt her cheeks burn as she took his hand once more. This handshake, knowing who he was and what he was about, felt far different from the one they’d shared only minutes ago. In his eyes, she could tell he was remembering last night, intently, and a mild shudder rolled out of nowhere, leaving her fingertips to surge into the warm strength of his hand. “Avery it is,” she agreed, his gold-green eyes burning into hers. When she meant to pull her hand from his, he tightened his grip.
“My name on your lips.” He flipped her hand over, tenderly, kissing her inner wrist over her pulse point, the faint scrape of his straight white teeth startling her, zinging all the way to her clitoris. Immediately she grew slick, the resonant throbbing in her bundle of nerves reminding her of how intimately he’d handled her last night, without actually touching where she burned for him.
And the thoughts she’d been having about his cousin.
What was happening to her?
How could two strangers affect her this way?
When he released her hand, with obvious reluctance, Payton’s heated blush made its way down the front of her neck. Embarrassment wasn’t an easy hide on her porcelain-toned skin. For all the gusto she’d held last night, today her defenses were sadly lacking. She’d kissed Dylan, kissed Avery, and then fainted in his arms like the lush she wasn’t. Perspiration beaded on her upper lip, and she figured Libby should handle this round on her own. “I’ll leave you two to discuss our unfortunate situation,” she offered with a caustic smile, quickly making her way to the door. “I hope an understanding can be reached.” Neither said a word, when she walked through the front door and left them to discuss business.
She palmed her forehead, making her way across the street. “Don’t think about him,” she chanted quietly. Reconsidered and then amended, “Don’t think about them.”
In a self-induced fog, Payton arrived at the loft. Swearing under her breath as she kicked off her shoes, she headed to the only working shower, stripping as she went. She pulled the elastic off her ponytail and settled under a steaming rush of water, grateful the water heater was working today. How had Avery Easton kissed her wrist when she smelled this way?
When she worked the shower gel in the palms of her hands, she saved her nipples for last, tweaking them until the pull echoed deep inside her womb. With suds sluicing between the globes of her breasts, down her stomach, the warm trickle made its way to her throbbing clitoris, the bud swollen twice its size.
Her thoughts still on Avery, she reached for the detachable shower massage, complete with seven settings, though Payton only wanted it on supercharged pulsation. Teasing her wet flesh, she slipped two fingers between her slick folds with her free hand. She couldn’t believe how thick and swollen her labia was and knew it would take only a swipe or two of the harsh water flow to send her over the edge.
In and out.
In and out.
Payton toyed with herself, biting her bottom lip when her orgasm neared screaming territory. Situating the sprayer over her core, she took one swipe and her thighs tightened. Then another swipe brought her head back, forcing her eyes closed in ecstasy. “Oh, this is going to be…good.” When she touched her clitoris head on, allowing only an inch of room between the showerhead and her burning flesh, she
“No,” Payton was quick to answer, “and thank you, Mr. Easton. The flowers are lovely.” Over-the-top lovely, she mused, thinking the exclusivity of the arrangement and endless blooms must have set him back hundreds. Then she appraised his superior clothing with a sweeping glance, reminding herself hundreds were pennies to an Easton.
Once again, he held out his hand to her, his eyes burning with…could that be open lust? And he didn’t care that Libby was looking on. “You must call me Avery.”
Payton felt her cheeks burn as she took his hand once more. This handshake, knowing who he was and what he was about, felt far different from the one they’d shared only minutes ago. In his eyes, she could tell he was remembering last night, intently, and a mild shudder rolled out of nowhere, leaving her fingertips to surge into the warm strength of his hand. “Avery it is,” she agreed, his gold-green eyes burning into hers. When she meant to pull her hand from his, he tightened his grip.
“My name on your lips.” He flipped her hand over, tenderly, kissing her inner wrist over her pulse point, the faint scrape of his straight white teeth startling her, zinging all the way to her clitoris. Immediately she grew slick, the resonant throbbing in her bundle of nerves reminding her of how intimately he’d handled her last night, without actually touching where she burned for him.
And the thoughts she’d been having about his cousin.
What was happening to her?
How could two strangers affect her this way?
When he released her hand, with obvious reluctance, Payton’s heated blush made its way down the front of her neck. Embarrassment wasn’t an easy hide on her porcelain-toned skin. For all the gusto she’d held last night, today her defenses were sadly lacking. She’d kissed Dylan, kissed Avery, and then fainted in his arms like the lush she wasn’t. Perspiration beaded on her upper lip, and she figured Libby should handle this round on her own. “I’ll leave you two to discuss our unfortunate situation,” she offered with a caustic smile, quickly making her way to the door. “I hope an understanding can be reached.” Neither said a word, when she walked through the front door and left them to discuss business.
She palmed her forehead, making her way across the street. “Don’t think about him,” she chanted quietly. Reconsidered and then amended, “Don’t think about them.”
In a self-induced fog, Payton arrived at the loft. Swearing under her breath as she kicked off her shoes, she headed to the only working shower, stripping as she went. She pulled the elastic off her ponytail and settled under a steaming rush of water, grateful the water heater was working today. How had Avery Easton kissed her wrist when she smelled this way?
When she worked the shower gel in the palms of her hands, she saved her nipples for last, tweaking them until the pull echoed deep inside her womb. With suds sluicing between the globes of her breasts, down her stomach, the warm trickle made its way to her throbbing clitoris, the bud swollen twice its size.
Her thoughts still on Avery, she reached for the detachable shower massage, complete with seven settings, though Payton only wanted it on supercharged pulsation. Teasing her wet flesh, she slipped two fingers between her slick folds with her free hand. She couldn’t believe how thick and swollen her labia was and knew it would take only a swipe or two of the harsh water flow to send her over the edge.
In and out.
In and out.
Payton toyed with herself, biting her bottom lip when her orgasm neared screaming territory. Situating the sprayer over her core, she took one swipe and her thighs tightened. Then another swipe brought her head back, forcing her eyes closed in ecstasy. “Oh, this is going to be…good.” When she touched her clitoris head on, allowing only an inch of room between the showerhead and her burning flesh, she
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