Page 22
Story: Petty AF
“Deaton!”
His smile returned, warm and indulgent, and he reached out to caress my cheek with the back of his hand. “You sounded like you were panicking. I didn’t want to make it worse.”
“I’m going to go get ready for my appointment,” Otto muttered. “Good luck,” he added under his breath, squeezing my hand in comfort before striding out of the room.
Alone now, I stared up at Deaton, trying to figure out what to say. For once, nothing came to mind.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
No, not even a little, but he apparently already knew that.
“How did you…?” I trailed off, my eyes rounding as the pieces snapped into place. “How much did you hear?”
Winding his arms around me, he held me close and combed his fingers through my hair. “Does it matter?”
“No,” I sighed, snuggling against him. “Not really.”
“I considered leaving,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to force anything you weren’t ready for, but then it sounded like you planned to avoid me. That wasn’t happening.”
So, he had basically heard everything. I probably should have been more embarrassed about that.
“You’re right,” I murmured, lifting my head to meet his gaze. “I was totally panicking.”
“I know, baby, and I’m sorry, too. I probably could have handled that better, but there’s no handbook for this stuff. I just didn’t want to make it harder on you.”
“We’re kind of a mess, huh?”
Chuckling, he tucked a knuckle under my chin, tilting my head back so he could claim my lips in a kiss filled with quiet possessiveness. “I love you, River. You never have to hide anything from me.”
The sincerity in his voice washed over me, warming me and chasing away the last vestiges of uncertainty. “I’d really like to go home now.”
Interpreting my words for what they truly meant, Deaton answered with a low, rumbling growl. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I answered with confidence. “I belong to you, Deaton.”
I had always known it, and now, I wanted the rest of the world to know as well.
eight
~ Deaton ~
Iloveyou.Ibelongto you.
River’s words echoed inside my head throughout the short drive back to his two-bedroom bungalow. We didn’t speak, communicating only in stolen glances filled with need and anticipation. Our joined hands rested atop the center console, my grip on his fingers firm as if he might vanish if I didn’t cling tight to him.
Taut and palpable, tension saturated the air, making me hyperaware of every subtle change in him, every minute movement. His intoxicating fragrance—sweet, warm, and uniquely River—filled every inch of the confined space. Tinged with the scent of desire and nerves, it invaded my senses, flooding my veins with adrenaline that made my heart race and my cock throb.
When I pulled into his driveway, I threw the transmission into park and killed the engine. The silence that followed was deafening, snapping the tension, and I dove across the console,capturing his face between my hands and slanting our mouths together.
Fuck, I needed him. I craved him. His scent, his taste, his voice—they had all become an obsession, an addiction I couldn’t break.
I tilted his head back roughly and licked inside his mouth, delving into the darkest recesses as if I could imprint myself on his soul through touch alone. His slender fingers encircled my wrists, his blunt nails biting into the skin as he leaned into me, his body vibrating in a silent plea for more.
We broke apart with a gasp, our hands fumbling with seatbelts and door handles as we both exited the cab. I met him at the front of the vehicle, resentful of the short separation, and lifted him into my arms.
He scrambled for purchase, his hands clutching at my shoulders as his legs locked around my waist. Holding him easily by the back of his thighs, I tilted my head up, growling when our lips met in another scorching kiss.
His long, silky hair fell around us, cocooning us in the illusion of privacy as we ate at each other, frantic and ravenous. Our tongues slid together and retreated, a pale mimicry of what we both truly wanted, but every glide sent a shock through my system.
His smile returned, warm and indulgent, and he reached out to caress my cheek with the back of his hand. “You sounded like you were panicking. I didn’t want to make it worse.”
“I’m going to go get ready for my appointment,” Otto muttered. “Good luck,” he added under his breath, squeezing my hand in comfort before striding out of the room.
Alone now, I stared up at Deaton, trying to figure out what to say. For once, nothing came to mind.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
No, not even a little, but he apparently already knew that.
“How did you…?” I trailed off, my eyes rounding as the pieces snapped into place. “How much did you hear?”
Winding his arms around me, he held me close and combed his fingers through my hair. “Does it matter?”
“No,” I sighed, snuggling against him. “Not really.”
“I considered leaving,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to force anything you weren’t ready for, but then it sounded like you planned to avoid me. That wasn’t happening.”
So, he had basically heard everything. I probably should have been more embarrassed about that.
“You’re right,” I murmured, lifting my head to meet his gaze. “I was totally panicking.”
“I know, baby, and I’m sorry, too. I probably could have handled that better, but there’s no handbook for this stuff. I just didn’t want to make it harder on you.”
“We’re kind of a mess, huh?”
Chuckling, he tucked a knuckle under my chin, tilting my head back so he could claim my lips in a kiss filled with quiet possessiveness. “I love you, River. You never have to hide anything from me.”
The sincerity in his voice washed over me, warming me and chasing away the last vestiges of uncertainty. “I’d really like to go home now.”
Interpreting my words for what they truly meant, Deaton answered with a low, rumbling growl. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I answered with confidence. “I belong to you, Deaton.”
I had always known it, and now, I wanted the rest of the world to know as well.
eight
~ Deaton ~
Iloveyou.Ibelongto you.
River’s words echoed inside my head throughout the short drive back to his two-bedroom bungalow. We didn’t speak, communicating only in stolen glances filled with need and anticipation. Our joined hands rested atop the center console, my grip on his fingers firm as if he might vanish if I didn’t cling tight to him.
Taut and palpable, tension saturated the air, making me hyperaware of every subtle change in him, every minute movement. His intoxicating fragrance—sweet, warm, and uniquely River—filled every inch of the confined space. Tinged with the scent of desire and nerves, it invaded my senses, flooding my veins with adrenaline that made my heart race and my cock throb.
When I pulled into his driveway, I threw the transmission into park and killed the engine. The silence that followed was deafening, snapping the tension, and I dove across the console,capturing his face between my hands and slanting our mouths together.
Fuck, I needed him. I craved him. His scent, his taste, his voice—they had all become an obsession, an addiction I couldn’t break.
I tilted his head back roughly and licked inside his mouth, delving into the darkest recesses as if I could imprint myself on his soul through touch alone. His slender fingers encircled my wrists, his blunt nails biting into the skin as he leaned into me, his body vibrating in a silent plea for more.
We broke apart with a gasp, our hands fumbling with seatbelts and door handles as we both exited the cab. I met him at the front of the vehicle, resentful of the short separation, and lifted him into my arms.
He scrambled for purchase, his hands clutching at my shoulders as his legs locked around my waist. Holding him easily by the back of his thighs, I tilted my head up, growling when our lips met in another scorching kiss.
His long, silky hair fell around us, cocooning us in the illusion of privacy as we ate at each other, frantic and ravenous. Our tongues slid together and retreated, a pale mimicry of what we both truly wanted, but every glide sent a shock through my system.