Page 10 of The P Arrangement

I needed to stop this before I got hurt again, and without a second thought, I slipped from his arms and bolted down the stairs.

FIVE

DELANEY

I rushedto the kitchen after fleeing from Preston upstairs. It infuriated me that I was being such a chicken, but a series of rejections could do that to even the most confident woman.

My purse was lying where I’d left it on the counter when he invited me to stay and eat, but instead of grabbing it and running out the front door, I found myself at the back of the room in front of the sliding glass door.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I stared out into the backyard as I tried to catch my breath. It was twilight, and I noted Paxton’s swing set and his sandbox and the lights flickering on in the neighbors’ houses. But it did nothing to block out the footsteps coming up behind me.

Really, I felt him more than heard Preston, and when he stopped at my back, I held my breath.

I had no idea what he was going to do, and I had the fleeting thought that I should have left.

I knew he would never hurt me. Physically at least. My heart was a whole different story.

My hair was swept off my shoulder, Preston’s strong hand grazing my neck, and I shuddered. Not just from the chill of the air hitting me, but also at what was going to come next. I couldn’t stop myself from closing my eyes and arching my neck even if it meant he might turn me away again.

Preston stepped closer, our bodies now touching. The light caress of his fingertips started at the sensitive area under my ear and slid down over my shoulder.

I swallowed hard.

He continued over my sternum and the top of my breast. Just as he wrapped his other arm around my middle, he tore the top of my blouse apart, the upper buttons scattering everywhere.

With a growl, he slipped his hand under my bra and latched on to my nipple just as he bit down on my neck.

I cried out and grabbed on to the back of his head, holding him to me. I had wanted this for so long. I was terrified he’d stop.

Preston sucked on my shoulder and kneaded my breast, pinching my nipple every few seconds.

My core clenched, and my panties grew wet. I pushed my ass against his cock and rubbed when I found it hard.

Preston groaned as the arm around my middle went to the bottom of my skirt, and he yanked on it, trying to lift it up.

Not wanting the thick material in the way of him touching me, I made quick work of the clasp and zipper on my side.

As soon as it was on the floor, Preston’s hand was ripping away my underwear. And when his hand landed between my legs, he froze at what he found there.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” I told him.

“The fuck it doesn’t.” He thumbed my clit piercing. “Although I suppose you took it out and replaced it by now.”

I bit down on my bottom lip.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m still the one who put it there in the first place.”

The day we’d gotten engaged, Preston had taken us to a tattoo shop, wanting us to put our names on each other. I told him absolutely not because it was bad luck. Couples always broke up or got divorced.

But since I’d always wanted the hood of my clitoris pierced, I let him do that. And when I say I let him do that, I mean, the piercer prepped me and lined the needle up, but when it came time to push it through, he let Preston do it with his hand over Preston’s.

Actually, the piercer had asked Preston if he wanted to be the one to do it after my then fiancé stood in the corner, staring at another man touching me in a place he thought of as only his to touch. I couldn’t lie that it was hot as fuck, and we went home and screwed like rabbits later that night. We stayed away from the positions that might hurt, but it didn’t stop us from doing it all night.

After I had gotten my new piercing, I had tried to convince Preston to do the same thing to his penis—not only to avoid jinxing our relationship, but also because it would be awesome to feel—but he’d been set on a tattoo. So, he put my name on his left ribs, and I had to admit, it was sexy as hell. I used to run my fingers over it when we were in bed together. Unfortunately, in the end, I had been right because, now, we were no longer together, and I was sure he’d had that tattoo removed months ago.

I’d had grand plans to remove my piercing several times because it made me think of Preston, but every time I’d tried, I hadn’t been able to go through with it. Hell, I couldn’t even make myself change—

“No point in you not enjoying it,” he said, knocking my thoughts out of the past and back to the present.

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