Page 72 of Home Game

“Do you know how fucking hot you are?” I say, looking down at her, my flexed arms holding my weight up just enough.

A coy grin paints her lips as her right hand lets go of its grip on the seat, her back fully arched over my console now. She grabs the golden pull tab of her jacket zipper and drags it down the middle of her chest, stopping between her breasts when it becomes obvious that she did not wear anything underneath.

“Well, fuck me,” I groan.

“Okay,” she says through a playful smirk, her voice soft and full of want.

My eyes flash to hers to gauge the seriousness of her tease. She scoots back a little more and her legs widen as I step out of the truck to scan the quiet empty streets one more time to make sure we’re alone.

Satisfied enough, I unzip my jeans to give my cock relief, stroking myself a few times before resting my right knee on the edge of the passenger seat to hold myself over her. She pulls her jacket zipper down completely, her nipples barely hidden by the jagged edges.

“My queen,” I say, drawing a soft laugh from her before I lean forward and drag her jacket edges open to expose her breasts to the cool night air. I suck the hard pink tips and she arches more over the console, her body scooting back a few more inches to lift her breasts higher, pushing them into my mouth. My tongue swirls one then the other, her hips writhing beneath me.

I step back to pull her leggings and panties down her hips and over her knees, leaving them around her ankles so she has to spread her knees apart for me to take her. Gripping myself with one hand, I reach into my jean pocket with my other in search of my wallet. I hand it to her and she pulls out the foil packet,tearing it open with her teeth before handing me the condom to slip on.

Gliding over her in the tight, cramped space, I brace myself with one foot on the passenger floor. Peyton lifts her hips and I support her with my hand under her ass as I guide my tip between her legs. She scoots down a few inches, enough that I can enter her, and the moment we connect, her head falls back as she lets out a moan that makes my cock flex inside of her.

My hips thrust, pushing into her, pressing her into my palm, into the truck seat, her breasts shaking with every push of my body into hers. I pull her into me, my hand digging into her soft, round ass cheek with every pump, and my mouth drops to her raw, pink nipple again to give it the attention it needs. My tongue flicks the tip as I hold it between my teeth and Peyton’s hands grip my back, holding on through every thrust. She begins to whimper under my weight, so I move in and out of her faster, drawing out her orgasm just as I fall over the edge with her.

We cling to each other for several quiet minutes, our out-of-breath laughter filling the cab of my truck as we make jokes about the older couple driving by and seeing the windows fogged up now that I’ve pulled the door shut behind me.

“You really need a bigger truck,” she jokes as I fumble with the zipper of her jacket.

“Ha! Or maybe you spend more nights at my house since your dad scares the shit out of me,” I laugh out.

The condom disposed of in a nearby trash, Peyton runs her fingers through her hair and straightens her clothes and crown, pulling her royal robe back over her shoulders as I climb back into the driver’s side and crank the engine.

It’s nearly one by the time I get her back home, and it’s the end of a painfully long week. I walk her to her front door, laughter bellowing from the other side, and I can’t help but laugh softly along with them even though I didn’t hear the joke.

“You should come in,” she says.

“Ah, I don’t know,” I say, my heart wanting to, desperately. To spend more time with her, but also to soak up the sound of family.

“Really, it’s okay. My mom gave me permission to be out tonight, not that I need to ask for it?—”

“But I like that you do,” I say, kissing her nose as she steps into me and stuffs her hands into my hoodie pocket.

“I’m not sure I’m your dad’s favorite person,” I lament.

“Why? Because you broke his record?” She snorts out a short laugh but I wince.

“I actually hadn’t thought of that yet. The interview was . . . awkward. Your dad had a prepared monologue for me, and he patted my shoulder with the stiffness of a Ken doll.” I can feel the tapping sensation on my shoulder simply thinking of it.

“Don’t let that stop you from coming in. Honestly, you’re kind of my uncle’s favorite person right now because it gives him something to give my dad shit about.”

“Ha, sure. I doubt that,” I say with wide eyes. “I’m pretty sure if your aunt didn’t come out to save me, your uncle was figuring out a way to stuff me into the trash, too.”

“Pfft, no way,” she says, tugging my sweatshirt toward her, her hands now clutching mine inside the pocket.

“Your dad doesn’t really seem too hip on me, Peyton, and while I’m willing to work to win him over, I just don’t know?—”

“Please,” she says, her hands giving mine a gentle squeeze as she looks at me through her lashes.

I think this may just be one of those moments for me, one that I’ll etch deep inside and hold on to forever. This is when I learn that I will never be able to say no to Peyton Johnson.

“Okay,” I say, watching in wonder as her smile spreads across her face.

She bursts through the door before I have a chance to change my mind, her family all gathered around a large wooden table covered in cards and cash. Her mom is sitting on her dad’s lap, and her aunt is filling a glass with wine.

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