Page 21 of That's a Wrap

“You just say whatever you want, don’t you?”

He shrugs, then sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, causing me to arch my back and press against him. “Of course, I do. It’s not that hard.”

“It’s like you don’t care what anyone else thinks. Like you can just live your life how ever you want and everything’ll turn out fine.” Why can’t I be more like Peter, doing whatever I want, going wherever I want to go?

“I care whatyouthink,” he says sincerely, and for some inexplicable reason, it makes me want to tear up.

I study him, trying to find any sign of dishonesty. But with his chin lifted, his head tilted slightly to the side, and an earnest smile on his lips, all I see is the truth.

“Why?” I ask curiously, still wondering how he sees what he does when he looks at me. “You’re successful and gorgeous and well-traveled. Why on earth are you so interested inme?I’m just a small-town girl who’s gonna be stuck here for the rest of her life, never doing anything interesting or exciting.”

He cups my face with his hands, brushing away a tear from my cheek.

That’s strange. When did I start crying?

“Ella Kate.” He forces my gaze to meet his when I try to look away. “Why wouldn’t I want you? You’re hardworking and smart and witty.” It’s hard to hear his compliments when I usually don’t get them from anyone other than my parents. “And you’re beautiful, ambitious, and talented. I know I was joking before…” He nods to my phone. “But you have real talent when it comes to photography. I’ve seen the pictures you’ve taken and they’re amazing. Just like you are. Someday, you’re gonna believe me when I say that, and I’ll say it over and over again until you do.”

His eyes silently plead with me to take what he says as truth. Then his actions work to convince me when he leans down to kiss me. It’s not urgent and passionate like the night before, but it’s certainly not chaste either. It’s an act of reassurance and care and promise as our mouths meld together in a way I’ve never experienced with another person. I feel myself surrender to him, and it’s terrifying and beautiful at the same time.

I’m not sure whether it’s hours or minutes or merely seconds that slip by, because it feels as if everything falls away when his mouth is pressed to mine. But, when I finally pull away, he lets me, and I reach up to run my thumb gently over his swollen lips. His eyes are slightly dazed, and a hint of pride tickles at my chest that I’m the woman who made him like this.

“Thank you, Peter,” I whisper. Then I kiss him again, pressing our lips together for a long moment, before rolling him off me and getting out of bed.

Confused, he sits up to look at me. “What’re you doing?” He doesn’t bother covering up and it’s hard not to look at his long, thick cock while it points at me, demanding attention that I refuse to give.

“I’m trying to find my shirt,” I huff. “I need to get home and get ready for work.” I see his pout out of the corner of my eye as I get dressed.

“Do you really have to leave so soon?” he whines. As much as I want to stay in bed with him all day—which is surprising after as much sex as we had last night—I have responsibilities and obligations. I can’t afford to be selfish when others are depending on me.

“Yes, I—” My words are cut off when he rises from the bed and stands in front of me. His body is sheer male perfection and the cocky smirk on his face says he knows it too. “Fuck me,” I mutter, and Peter grins.

“Well, if you come back to bed, I can do just that.” He grabs the belt loops of my jeans and tugs my hips toward his, attempting to entice me with his hardness.

I shake my head and step away. “No, no. No more of that, sir. I need to go.” Reluctantly, I allow my gaze to roam over every inch of him, dying to take more pictures.

“You’re looking at me likethatagain. Should I get your camera, dirty girl?”

My face flames in embarrassment. “Hush and get dressed. You’re distracting me.” I pick up his discarded shirt from last night, tossing it at him so I don’t get within his reach.

“Are you sure you want me dressed?” he teases. “Looks like your creative juices are flowing. Perhaps we can getotherjuices flowing too.” He winks at me like the devil he is.

“Oh my god, Peter. That’s gross. Don’t sayjuiceslike that ever again.” I roll my eyes while he lets out a hearty laugh. He finishes getting dressed before escorting me to his car.

The drive back to my house is not nearly as awkward as I thought it was going to be, and Peter keeps the atmosphere light and comfortable by singing along to the radio and pointing out places he wants us to check out. Almost too soon, we pull into my driveway and I find myself hesitant to leave his presence.

He places his warm palm over mine. “Can I see you again tonight?”

I want to say yes, but I know there are other things I need to do. “I’m not sure. I was planning on doing some inventory after my shift.”

He nods with understanding. “Okay, how about tomorrow morning, then? It’ll be Saturday so we could get breakfast somewhere before you head into work.”

“The weekends are our busiest days, so I typically get there early to prep everything for my parents,” I admit. I’m sureto Peterit sounds like excuses not to see him again, but I really do have obligations.

He drums his fingers on the back of my hand while he thinks for a second. “Alright, well, you gotta sleep sometime, right? How about I pick you up after your shift tonight and you spend the night again?”

Damn, that’s tempting.

I bite my lip. “I’m not sure how much sleep I’ll get if I spend another night.”

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