Bootyversary: Booty Call Series Read online

  Bootyversary

  Booty Call Series

  Frankie Love

  C.M. Seabrook

  Edited by My Brother’s Editor

  Cover by Mayhem Cover Creations Copyright © and 2019 by Frankie Love and C.M. Seabrook

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Bootyversary

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue I

  Epilogue II

  Also by Frankie & C.M.

  About Frankie

  About C.M.

  Bootyversary

  Booty Call Series

  Bootyversary [boo-tee-ver--sa-ry] noun: when someone has had the same booty call for a year

  The issue: Peyton’s sworn off military men.

  The compromise: A booty call when I’m on leave.

  The reason tonight changes everything: It’s our one-year BOOTYVERSARY.

  It’s supposed to be magic - me telling her she’s the one.

  But Peyton has other ideas.

  And she sure as hell isn’t prepared to wear a ring.

  Yet.

  I’m not giving up on her.

  Not now, not ever ... not even when she totally drops a bomb I never expected!

  Dear Reader,

  Lance Easton is a NAVY SEAL who knows what it means to be in command.

  This summer he’s taking control of the situation and we don’t mind one bit!

  This is one anniversary you don’t want to miss!

  Xo, Frankie & Chantel

  Chapter One

  Lance

  Three months of unopened mail is scattered on the floor when I walk through the front door of my house. I kick it aside, placing my duffle bag down and flicking on the lights.

  “It’s good to be home,” I mutter, unbuttoning my uniform as I head to my bedroom to do the one thing I’ve been dreaming about doing for the last ninety-two days.

  Text Peyton.

  Me: Hey beautiful. I just got in. You busy?

  This last mission was brutal. Three months with no contact with the outside world, not being able to see my girl’s smile, hear her voice...like I said, brutal.

  Being a Navy Seal has its perks. But the one downfall is having no chance at anything close to a normal relationship.

  And until a year ago, that hadn’t mattered to me. I’d been more than happy with random hook-ups...until I met her.

  She was teaching a cooking class downtown in one of those underground culinary studios that are usually exclusive invite-only. My sister had given me her spot, insisting I learn how to make something other than hard-boiled eggs and protein shakes.

  One look at the sexy little chef and I knew I had to have her. One night in my bed, and I knew there was no way I was letting her go. But as soon as she found out that I was military, she’d bolted.

  Took me a week to track her down, and by then I was already preparing for my next mission.

  “Look, Lance,” she’d said, not making eye contact. “It was fun, but I’m not looking for a boyfriend, especially one who’s gone three quarters of the year.”

  “I get it,” I told her, brushing my knuckles across her cheek and feeling her tremble beneath my touch. When I cupped her jaw and forced her to look at me, there was no denying the connection between us.

  My sergeant, who’d been married for almost thirty years liked to tell us that when you know, you know. It’s like a volt of electricity straight to the heart. I hadn’t believed him until that moment.

  “I ship out tomorrow morning.” I pulled her close, wrapping one arm around her waist, and despite the denial of her words, her body melted against mine. “Let me call you when I get back.”

  Her palms rested on my chest, and I could feel the hesitancy before she answered. “You want a booty call?”

  I’d chuckled, and lowered my face to hers, my lips so close to her own that I could almost taste her kiss. “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me.”

  She held my gaze, those gorgeous hazel eyes searching mine. She wanted me, or at least the pleasure that she knew I could give her. Our night together had been the best fucking night of my life. And I needed more.

  “Okay,” she finally said. “But it’s just sex. Nothing else.”

  I’d kissed her then, taking it as a win. And when I’d come back home a month later, she was the first person I called. Our week together was just as electric as the first time we’d been together. More so. Because the anticipation of seeing her again was like a drug.

  But there’s also this fear inside me every time I’m called away that when I come back, she’ll have found somebody else.

  I swallow over the lump in my throat, waiting for Peyton’s response. Finally a message pops up on the screen.

  Peyton: I’m just closing up at the Rink. I’ll stop by in an hour.

  I let out the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding in and text her back.

  Me: I can’t wait to see you. You know what today is? Our Bootyversary.

  Peyton: Our what?

  Me: Our Bootyversary. The first time we hooked up was a year ago today.

  Peyton: I don’t think that’s a thing, but if it involves presents, I’m in.

  I chuckle.

  Me: Sweetheart, I’ve got a huge present for you.

  Peyton: That’s the only kind I like! ;)

  God, I love her.

  My heart starts to pound as the thought goes through my head. But it’s the truth. I love everything about the woman...except the fact that she still refuses to be mine.

  I clean up the house and order delivery before stepping in the shower. My cock is already hard, my balls aching with the thought of seeing her. I jerk myself off to the memory of her sweet pussy, knowing I won’t last two seconds with her tonight if I don’t.

  I’m just pulling on a pair of sweats when there’s a knock on the door. Thinking it’s the delivery guy, I grab my wallet and answer.

  Peyton stands there, her eyes widening, pupils expanding when her gaze lands on my bare chest. It’s less than a second, the moment when we take each other in, a carnal hunger so intense it denies all other thoughts. And then she’s in my arms, and her mouth is on mine, her legs wrap around my waist, and I’m slamming the door behind us - one purpose only - burying myself inside her.

  There’s nothing gentle, nothing soft about the way our hands roam each other’s bodies. It’s ravenous. Feral. Needy.

  She’s wearing a sundress, and it bunches around her waist, giving me easy access to her pussy. I push her thong aside and bury two fingers in her warmth. Peyton moans, her mouth parting as my tongue mimics the same movement as my fingers.

  “Lance,” she whimpers, her pussy dripping for me, her hands pushing my sweats down over my hips until my thick cock is free. “I need you inside me.”

  I groan, thanking God that I came earlier, because her words are enough to undo me. I grip my thick shaft and ease the head inside her snug little pussy, her liquid heat wrapping around me like a vise.

  “You feel so fucking good,” I tell her, gripping her ass with one hand, my other palm against the wall, steadying me.

  I begin to thrust, the movement urgent, desperate, needy, the fire betwee
n us building until I wonder if it will scorch us both.

  Peyton cries out and I feel her walls pulse around my cock as her pleasure rakes through her. I come inside her, hot spurts of my release filling her, my legs barely holding us up as I’m taken to the height of pure ecstasy.

  My god, the woman undoes me.

  She’s limp in my arms, our bodies coated in sweat, and I carry her to the shower, and turn it on, before helping her out of her dress, bra, and panties.

  We don’t speak, our eyes do the talking. Her gaze never leaves mine as I help her into the shower and begin to wash her.

  I kiss her, this time gently.

  I see the fear in her eyes when she looks at me, and I know she’s terrified of what this is becoming. Hell, I wish I could erase those fears. Make her believe that I can be the man she needs.

  “Peyton—”

  The doorbell rings.

  Her brows lift, and she teases, “Expecting another booty call?”

  I grunt, and kiss the tip of her nose, wishing I could tell her that she’s the only woman in my life. The only woman I’ll ever want. But I know I’ll just scare her away.

  “It’s probably dinner. I ordered your favorite Chinese.”

  A smile spreads across her face. “Great. I’m starving.”

  I get out of the shower and pull my sweats back on.

  “Lance,” she says before I leave the bathroom.

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s good to have you home.”

  Chapter Two

  Peyton

  I should not be here.

  Lance Easton is everything I’ve always strived to stay away from. Yeah, he’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. And sure, he makes my body feel things that I never thought possible, but he’s still military. No, not just military...a Navy Seal.

  Sure, most women go all jelly-legged whenever a man mentions he’s a SEAL - but me? No, I know the truth of what he does. Yes, he’s a goddamn hero. But it also means he’s sleeping somewhere other than his own bed three quarters of the year.

  How do I know this? Because it was my life growing up. My father was gone most of my childhood, and I watched my mother suffer every day that he was gone. Saw the way she’d stare blankly out the window, just waiting for him to return to us.

  He always did. But there was still the possibility of hanging over our heads that he wouldn’t. That something would happen to him. I was twelve when my mom got the call saying he was MIA, that he’d gone missing on one of his missions.

  Two weeks. That’s how long we didn’t know if my father was alive, or captured, or dead.

  Two weeks. My mother clutched his favorite t-shirt to her chest and tried to hide the fear that I knew she felt.

  Two weeks before we heard the news that he’d been found, injured, but alive.

  I’d made a promise then, that I’d never be like my mom. I’d never give my heart to a man who might not return to me. A man who put his life on the line every time he walked out the door.

  So why am I here now?

  After I dry off, pull a comb through my hair, and put my dress back on, I glance at my reflection in the mirror.

  “I can’t keep doing this,” I mumble. It was only supposed to be a fling. A hookup. A booty call. But whatever the name for it, I know that every extra moment I spend with Lance, my heart is getting precariously close to the edge of the cliff.

  And I cannot under any circumstances fall for Lance Easton.

  But when I find him in the living room, bags of Chinese food sitting out on the table, and a grin stretching across his handsome face, I know it’s already too late.

  “I got all your favorites,” he says, pulling me into his lap, then picking a piece of Kung Pao Chicken from a box with chopsticks, and teasing me with it until I grab his wrist, laughing and take a bite.

  He smiles at me, brushing my hair back from my face, and I see all the emotions shining in his eyes. Emotions that scare the hell out of me.

  “I missed you,” he says.

  I want to say I missed him too, but I need to put some boundaries up, at least around my heart.

  “Those spring rolls look delicious,” I say, scooting off his lap and grabbing a plate, before piling it high.

  I hear his sigh before he starts digging into the food as well.

  “How is the rink doing?” he asks, and I’m grateful for the change in topic - anything but our feelings.

  “Really good. We had our official opening a couple weeks ago.”

  “I wish I could have been there.”

  Yeah, I wished he had been there too. But the fact he wasn’t is just another reason why this thing between us needs to stay casual.

  I shrug it off. “I’ll give you some free passes. It’s a great place to take a date.” I’m not sure why I say that.

  Because you want to push him away, that voice in my head says.

  And my words do just that. I see his eyes darken, the way his jaw clenches.

  “I’m not seeing anyone else,” he says, voice rough.

  “It doesn’t matter if you do.” Shut up, Peyton. But I can’t. That self-preservation part of my brain just keeps talking and pushing him farther and farther away. “It’s not like we’re exclusive. You can see other—”

  “Are you?” There’s a rumble in his chest that startles me.

  “Wha-what?”

  “Are you seeing other people?”

  There’s a part of me that wonders if I should lie, keep building walls, sabotage the good thing we have here. But I can’t. Not even to protect my own heart.

  “No.” I push the noodles around on my plate with my chopsticks.

  He takes the plate out of my hands and puts it on the table. “Good,” he says, cupping my jaw and kissing me.

  It’s not the hard, desperate kiss from earlier. This one is softer, still needy, but so full of emotion my heart hurts with it.

  I cannot fall in love with you, I want to shout. Please don’t make me.

  But I know that it’s already too late.

  Chapter Three

  Lance

  I can feel Peyton’s walls build and collapse, then rebuild again. I know she cares about me, I can see it in her eyes, feel it in her touch. But for some reason, she keeps pushing me away.

  She won’t let me get too close. I swear I know almost everything about her. Her favorite color, favorite food, the way she likes her coffee, the way she makes cute little noises when she’s fast asleep. And yet I still know next to nothing about her family, her friends, her childhood.

  The only reason I knew about the Hot Wheels Roller Rink, is because I saw a clip on the news last time I was home about the four women reopening the old retro rink. I know I shouldn’t have let her words get under my skin, about the passes and bringing a date, but the thought of her being with anyone else had that feral part of my brain growling possessively.

  She can push me away all she wants, but she’s mine, whether she knows it or not. I just have to figure out how to prove that to her.

  When we finish our food, we clear the containers away as a heaviness covers the kitchen. I want to tell her that I would stay put if I could, but that I can’t. My military family is the one sure thing in my life, so much of my identity.

  Of course I want to spend every damn day and night with her ... but telling her that will only push her farther away. Over the past year, I’ve learned enough about Peyton to know she isn’t a girl who wears her heart on her sleeve. She feels things deep - which is why me leaving so damn often hurts her so much.

  Not that she’ll admit it.

  “Lance?” she asks, leaning against the countertop. “I’m sorry.”

  “What do you have to be sorry for?”

  “I shouldn’t have said that about taking a date to the rink. It was stupid.”

  I shrug, trying to play it off. But Peyton seems to know me as well as I know her.

  “I’m not good at this.” She steps toward me, pressing her hands on
my chest.

  “At what?”

  “Being in a long-term relationship.”

  I wrap my arms around her waist. “And here I thought this was just about sex.”

  She licks her lips. “It is, but you know what I mean.” Her eyes meet mine. “It’s been a year.”

  “I think you’re better at this than you give yourself credit for, Peyton.”

  She bites her bottom lip. “I got you something,” she says. “I mean, I know we aren’t like, anything official - but since it’s our anniversary and all...” I can’t help but smile as she walks into the living room and pulls something out of her bag. “Maybe this is silly but...”

  “Stop,” I tell her, sitting next to her on the couch. “Don’t minimize this.”

  She swallows. Her eyes filled with emotion and I know she wants me the way I want her. So why the hell is she so dead set on resisting?

  “It’s not a big thing, just open it.” I unwrap the rectangular present and see a framed photo of us. Her words come out quickly, “I know we aren’t like a thing, but this photo is so perfect. It was from February? Remember? We made enchiladas together that night? And anyway... I thought maybe while you’re away you might want like, a token of me. Of us.” She groans, covering her face. “Is that dumb?”

  I pull her hands from her face. “Pey, this isn’t dumb.”

  “It isn’t?”

  I shake my head. “No. It’s really fucking sweet.”

  Her cheeks flush pink and I pull her to me. She straddles me and I run my hands under her dress. She’s skipped the panties and I squeeze her perfect ass.