~ 48 ~
COLSON
Sleep came a lot more easily, when I was younger. On mission, off mission — it never really mattered. I’d once fallen asleep in the middle of the wettest jungle, and woke up with a five-foot snake wrapped around my leg. My unit called me ‘Python’ for a while, after that. As far as nicknames went, it wasn’t half bad.
But as the years wore on, sleep became something I had to work at. There were more responsibilities, more outcomes, more things to think about. I had to learn to shut my mind off, as best I could. If not, I’d go insane.
Tonight however, I knew sleep wouldn’t come. Not with the specter of tomorrow looming over us, like a storm massing, just beyond the horizon.
It was the wee hours of the morning, and I’d been staring at the ceiling for way too long. Which was why I was shocked to find Peyton, standing quietly in the dimly-lit living area. She had an arm braced on one of the giant windows, resting her head against it as she looked down.
“You too, huh?” I whispered.
She didn’t startle. Instead she smiled shyly at me, over her shoulder, and beckoned me to join.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it,” I murmured, pressing into her from behind.
“Yes.”
My body folded into hers, like a tide returning to shore.
“I’m not talking about the city,” I kissed her shoulder.
Peyton chuckled. “I figured.”
One lithe hand reached back for me. I took it in mine, while letting my other hand slip around her warm, gossamer-tressed waist. Peyton responded by melting backward, right into me. Wriggling her ass like a puzzle piece she was trying to lock into place.
A moment later, it fit perfectly.
“It’s hard to believe Donovan’s down there, somewhere,” she sighed.
I gazed down with her, into the endless maze of winding, shadowy avenues. The city was alive and breathing, even at this late hour.
“Ready to end him?”
“Yes,” she murmured. “So ready.”
“The rest of this ends, too,” I told her, softly. “The running. The hiding. The fake names, and hats pulled down, and always having to look over our shoulder.”
“I’m gonna miss it.”
I chuckled against her smooth, unblemished shoulder. “No, you’re not.”
The scent of her skin was spellbinding, like honey-drizzled vanilla. The more I kissed, the more I wanted. The more I wanted, the more my eager fingers exposed.
The space between our lips disappeared in a whisper. We made out over her shoulder, Peyton’s soft mouth pressed hungrily against mine. Our tongues surged. Our bodies writhed with new urgency, certain parts seeking others.
I was suddenly aware of a hand; pressed between us. Somehow it had slipped through my waistband without me knowing, deftly wrapping itself around my rapidly-hardening member.
“Give this to me,” she said with a squeeze and a sigh. “I want it.”
I never was a man who needed to be told twice.
I took over, and Peyton let go. She planted both hands on the glass, arching her back, thrusting that round, beautiful ass back my way. It was a simple thing to roll her shorts down, to where they looked absolutely incredible stretched between the middle of her thighs. It was even simpler to thrust inside her. The thin strip of fabric masquerading as panties was no match for the battering ram of a hard-on that kissing her had given me. I shoved past it and straight through, ensconced by a volcanic warmth and wetness, spearing her to the core.
“Colson…”
My heart nearly burst as she breathed my name, softly, into my mouth. I cupped her breasts from beneath, pulling her against me as she bucked backwards. Down below, her snug pussy swallowed me deep on every stroke.
