“Young lady, you have a lot of explaining to do. What kind of trouble are you stirring up around here? I heard about your display in the restaurant with that bellboy earlier today.”
“His name is Eduardo, Mother.” Her voice was devoid of all emotion, completely closed off.
“And then you took the limo tonight. And then that ridiculous display in the lobby. My goodness, Elizabeth, I would have thought you’d outgrow your wild streak by now. It’s obvious to me now that you never will.”
Elizabeth? He wanted to look at her, to ask her questions and figure out why she’d lied to him about her name, but his focus needed to stay on helping her first.
“All of those things are my fault,” he announced, refusing to back down. Layla, or Elizabeth, or whatever her name was, needed to stand up to her mother. If she couldn’t do that for herself, maybe she’d do it for him.
Dragon Lady spun on him, giving him a thorough once-over. “And who is this, Elizabeth? Married man number three? Or have you moved on to four, perhaps five?” The contempt in her voice could make anyone shrink, including his strong Layla.
Number three? Where had number two come in? He only knew of one. God, he really didn’t know much about Layla. Not the focus, he reminded himself again. He lifted just his left ring finger to show her the lack of a wedding band, though it wasn’t the finger he wanted to show her.
“He’s not married, Mother.” The phrase had the air of one that had been repeated again and again.
“Yes, well, of course he’s not.” She gave him another look that would’ve made lesser men squirm.
“As I was saying…” Tyler fought the urge not to speak through clenched teeth. “That scene in the restaurant was for my benefit. I had a friend who needed to hear from hotel staff that things were being renovated. It’s a complicated, boring story, but I was in a jam, and your daughter helped me out of it.” He put his finger down, reluctantly.
“I don’t actually remember asking you to speak.” Queen to peasant. But he’d long ago gotten used to that tone. Had received enough of that treatment as a kid, even as a student at Harvard. If she thought it would make him back off, she didn’t stand a chance against him.
“That’s enough, Mother!”
The hard-shell exterior snapped open, and Layla came to life. She moved closer, pushing herself between him and the megabeast.
“You do not get to waltz in here and pass judgment like you always do, without having a fucking clue what is going on. Nice to see you, as always. Come by anytime. We’re leaving now.” She grabbed Tyler’s hand and turned her back on her mother, whose face showed astonishment. He let himself be pulled from the office.
Layla turned, and the look on her face was almost as startled as the one that had been on her mother’s. Jesus, had her mother really tried to browbeat Layla into fitting in a box that never would have been big enough to contain her, never exotic or amazing enough to even try? How could she not see how incredible her daughter was?
“I can’t believe I just did that.”
“Yeah, neither can she.” He smiled, tried to lighten the mood. She had a genuine edge of panic in her voice. Like she might turn around and run back in there and apologize. He wouldn’t allow that. Not right now. It would be too soon.
So he pulled her toward him and kissed her—a charged, demanding kiss that he hoped would erase all ideas of talking to her mother from her mind. He led her to the elevators and upstairs. She still had a bit of a shocked look in her big brown eyes, but she was holding her own.
“I’m sorry you had to get involved with that.”
“Well, I suppose since I ambushed you with my mother, turnabout is fair play.”
She whacked him on the arm. He liked this side of her much better. She stepped off the elevator and led him down the hall to her room.
“You know she’s just going to come up here when she unfreezes.”
“I figured,” he said, stepping into the room. “So…Elizabeth?” He didn’t want to accuse her of lying to him, but he needed to know. The door slid closed as he looked harder at her, trying to decide if she was okay or not.
“God, don’t call me that. It’s what my mother insists was my name since birth, but it’s never been the one on my birth certificate, and no one has ever called me that except her.” She shuddered. And then her eyes got bigger. Definitely the “or not.”
“Shit,” she said.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. “That was epic. Amazing. You can be upset about it later. Right now it’s just time to enjoy. To revel in the victory and the look on her face. Did you see it?” He set her on the bed and bent to take off her sneakers and socks. He couldn’t resist tickling her feet. He had to lighten things. He didn’t know if he could bear it if she crumbled under the weight of her mother’s disdain. How could you treat your own child with such incredible negativity?
She nodded, then squirmed and squealed, laughing and pulling her toes away from his wandering hands. He moved his hands up the ends of her jeans and massaged her left calf.
“Let’s stay in bed all night and ignore the door.” He waggled his eyebrows as he switched to the other leg. Her skin felt cool beneath his fingers. He needed her to celebrate the fact that she’d told her mother off, not wallow in it, so that he wouldn’t feel guilty for making things worse between them. Their relationship was in serious need of repair. Not being a doormat and bottling things inside was step one…he hoped.
“She’ll just get a key.” She put her hands on his shoulders as he moved his massaging fingers back down to her feet. He snagged one and pushed into the arch of her foot, trying to help relieve the tension.
“Well, good, then. We should be in the most compromising position possible when she opens the door.” He grinned, and she held on tighter to his shoulders.
“Hmm, that feels nice.”
“Mmhmm.” He dipped his head to rest on her chest, listening to the thumping of her heart. She cradled him to her, and he kissed the topside of her right breast where it pushed above the fabric of her shirt. He moved his hands from her feet and up the outsides of her legs.
“Wait,” she said.
He froze, his hands on her hips, his face still buried in her chest. She pressed his shoulders back to halt him.
“I’ve got a better idea.”
The look in her eyes was one of pure seduction. No wonder Adam ate the damned apple.
She crawled over the bed and took a condom from the nightstand. She stood and grabbed his hand, leading him from the bedroom to the living area. She didn’t turn on any lights as she went, tugging him along, but in the dimness, he could still see the glee dancing in her eyes. She flung open the curtains to look down on Times Square. The lights flashed off her mocha skin, making it shimmer. She sauntered to the glass and put her left hand on it, using her other to pull him closer, until he pressed up against her.
He could feel the heat of her body as she pushed back into him.
“I want it right here.”
Lord help him. His legs threatened to give out. He put his hands against the glass on either side of her.
“Yes,” she moaned. “Exactly the way you described it.” She stepped closer to the window, and he went with her.
Talk about fantasies coming to life. When he was sure his legs would support him, he slipped his fingers up the back of her shirt. She lifted her arms so he could take off the soft sweater, and she looked at him over her shoulder, an evil grin on her face. He unhooked her bra and bent to kiss her shoulder blade. She quivered at his touch as he slid the straps down her arms, freeing her breasts.
He couldn’t help a good look around across the street to make sure the offices were empty. He kissed his way up from her shoulder blade to the side of her neck, suckling. She groaned and looped a hand behind his head, holding him closer, the other hand still clutching the condom between his palm and the pane of glass. He pushed against her, sliding her legs farther
apart on the rug. He could see the reflection of her breasts in the window as his fingers tickled her belly and then cupped them. She leaned her head back, laying it on his shoulder as he massaged her. As he vowed with his body to make her forget her mother. Forget any idea that she wasn’t good enough for him. She was perfect for him, made for him, and he would show her that. If they happened to piss her mother off in the process, all the better.
He couldn’t take off any of his clothes in this current position, but he wouldn’t give up possession of her brown nipples to do so. She moaned low in her throat and let go of his neck. She unbuttoned and unzipped her pants. A bit of shimmying let them crumple to a pile at her feet. She turned her head to the side and pulled him down for a kiss. He slipped his hands from her soft mounds, and she turned in his arms, deepening the kiss.
He took the condom from her fingers, and she started pulling loose the buttons of his jersey. He yanked open his belt one-handed and shoved his pants down his legs. He toed off his shoes and then socks and kicked his clothes aside, bending her back to keep her mouth fused to his. She leaned with his touch. She sucked his tongue into the hot cavern of her mouth, and his balls tightened. He tore the foil packet open and sheathed himself.
She pulled her lips free with one last suck and turned her back to him again. The curve of her rib cage begged to be touched. He held her there as she put her palms flat against the glass, arching her back and wiggling her ass at him. He trailed his left hand down her hip, over the swell of her ass. He nudged her legs wider with his knee. She moved fluidly with him, opening herself. He slid two fingers against her entrance. As usual she was hot and wet.
LAYLA SHIVERED AT his touch, her fingers curling against the cool glass, searching for purchase. She had to hold on to something solid as Tyler pushed himself inside her in slow in-out movements. She wanted to scream with the exquisite joy of this moment. He drove into her again and again, and she leaned forward more, forcing him deeper inside until he groaned. Until he clasped the sides of her hips to hold her still.
She looked down into the bright lights of Times Square, then across the street into his dark office. She couldn’t believe he was here, pressing her into the glass, just like he’d promised he’d do. She could feel the pressure building, growing in that one spot. His hands moved from her thighs to her breasts, cupping, massaging, pinching her nipples into harder peaks until she screamed his name.
He wasn’t far behind her, and the sound of her name coming from his lips as he shuddered within her made her feel special. She knew thoughts like that were stupid. She was no stranger to sex, but as she leaned against the window with him hugging her close to his sweaty body, that was the only word she could think of to describe the way she felt in his arms. Special. And she was entitled to her feelings, damn it. He kissed her neck, and she heard the decisive click of the door behind them. Her mother hadn’t even bothered trying to get her to open the door.
“Oh my God!”
She felt Tyler’s soft chuckle deep within her sheath as the laugh shook his entire body. “I’ll be right next door in the bedroom if you need me,” he whispered against her ear.
He steadied her with a hand as he slipped from her body. She felt bereft without his warmth, though he’d only moved a few inches away from her. If he left her, she was liable to crumble as she had done so many times before. But this wasn’t his fight. She felt the comforting silk of her robe as he set it on her shoulders. Luckily she’d left it sitting in the chair by the window. She couldn’t believe Tyler was so considerate, so aware of her comfort. He’d come to her defense downstairs, but now he was going to let her stand on her own. She slid her arms into the robe and wrapped it around her like a shield. Tyler held her and squeezed once, kissing her on the cheek. Then he dropped his arms and moved away from her again.
She turned to face her mother. Tyler walked by and nodded to her on his way into the bedroom, completely, unabashedly naked. No doubt he’d been the kind of kid who ran around his house without diapers.
He closed the door behind him.
Layla crossed her arms, refusing to cower. “Wow, speechless twice in one day. That’s got to be a record for you.”
Her mother moved toward Layla and drew a hand back. Layla saw the smack coming and blocked it, grabbing her mother’s wrist.
“I’m not fifteen anymore, Mother.” She said the word like the worst insult in the world. “And if you ever raise your hand to me again, I will disappear. For good.” She knew it was the most effective threat, because despite how much she seemingly hated Layla, her mother still wanted to be a part of her life.
Her mother wrenched her hand free and moved back a step, giving Layla some breathing room.
“I am sorry, for what it’s worth, if my show in the restaurant did anything to screw things up for you. But it needed doing, and I would do it again,” Layla said.
The other woman shook her head. “Elizabeth, I honestly don’t know what to do with you anymore.”
“That’s the thing. You don’t have to do anything. I don’t need raising or taming or breaking like some wild mustang. I’m an adult. A responsible woman capable of taking care of myself.” Well, sort of. She was in the ballpark of responsible, a lot closer than she had been in recent years.
“Ha. Yes, responsible women have sex in front of open curtains all the time where millions of people can see them. My goodness, Elizabeth, what were you thinking?”
“Oh, give it a rest. We’re on the eighteenth floor. No one down there can see a damned thing, and for God’s sake, stop calling me Elizabeth. That’s not my name.”
“Yes, well, it should have been.”
“You can leave anytime now. You know where the door is.”
Her mother’s face scrunched up like she’d eaten something sour. Layla knew that look well. Seemed Mom would behave, at least for the moment.
“How long are you in town?” her mother said.
“Not very,” Layla answered. Aside from the fact that she didn’t want her mother to know, she also didn’t know if Tyler could hear her from the bedroom. She was almost convinced she should tell him she was staying longer, but she just wasn’t positive. She’d still be leaving in the end, so it would save them both some time and aggravation if she broke things off sooner.
“Yes, of course. Were you even going to bother calling me to tell me you were here—” Her mother stopped before calling her Elizabeth this time.
“I didn’t know you were in New York. Look, can we not do this right now?” She heard the shower turn on, glad Tyler decided to give them more privacy. She knew if she really needed him, he’d come to her rescue. She’d never had a man rescue her before. It felt kind of nice. Definitely something she could get used to if she wasn’t careful.
“Honestly, darling, how long do you think this is going to last? A week, two? What’s your relationship record, three months?”
Yeah, like she needed any help remembering how pathetic she was at keeping a man. Were it an Olympic sport, as her mother believed, Layla wouldn’t even be considered a spectator, let alone a team member or gold medalist. She didn’t need to tell her mother the relationship’s days were already numbered. She knew she had to “leave” and let Tyler move on with his life. Her mother’s reminder of her failures made her even more sure that she had to break things off. She fought the urge to cry. No way in hell would she give her mother that satisfaction.
“Why don’t we have dinner sometime this week?” Layla suggested, knowing Tyler couldn’t hear her. “For now, I have…things to do.”
“Where’d you pick this one up, Elizabeth? Some seedy bar below Thirtieth Street? Or worse…the Bronx? Please tell me he’s not someone you work with.”
She wanted to strangle the other woman. Instead, she felt the burn of shame creeping up her neck, boiling in her gut. Or maybe it was the red of many years of pent-up frustration.
“You don’t have to worry about me soiling some other man. He’s a prostitute. I hired
him last night. I should have done this years ago. Because that man rocks my world.” She knew it was crude. But she couldn’t stop.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
As he heard Layla’s voice rise in anger, Tyler quickly wrapped the towel around his hips and moved to the bedroom door, ready to rush out and help her beat back the megabeast if she needed him to.
“I’ve fucked him all over this hotel room. That scene you saw was just our latest escapade. I’m not going to have a relationship with him. I don’t need to. He’s just a great lay. Bought and paid for.”
He stopped with his hand halfway to the door. Where did that come from? Bought and paid for? What was she talking about? Had she turned on him after he’d stood up for her, for them? Well, if that was what she really thought, he would be glad to be rid of her tomorrow.
No, he wouldn’t. Even if she thought so little of him and their relationship. The burning in the back of his throat and his chest made him want to kick himself.
“That is it, young lady. You’ve pushed me too far. I want you out of my hotel, right now. Your trust fund will be frozen and stay that way until you have grown up.”
Apparently her broken relationship with her mother and past men left Layla incapable of feeling. He shook his head at his own stupidity. How could he have been so naive as to think that a woman who only wanted to seduce him without knowing anything about his life would be a secret romantic at heart? The one fucking time he’d decided to let himself get attached. It figured his life sucked just that much.
“I don’t want your stupid money. I’ve never touched that fund, and you know it. I’ll be out of the room within the hour. I’m assuming you can let yourself out?”
Her voice sounded so cold. So unlike the woman he’d been coming to know. It was clearer to him now, though, that he didn’t know a single thing about her. He heard the door close a moment later and ran into the bathroom. He didn’t want Layla to know he’d heard her. It was bad enough to have eavesdropped on the conversation, but if she said anything like that to his face, he was afraid it would break something inside him. His pride, surely.
An Affair Across Times Square Page 19