by Tessa Layne
I lean in, pulling her hair from her neck so I can nuzzle the sensitive spot underneath her ear. “You just like the benefits,” I tease. My voice drops. “Come home with me.”
Chapter Fifteen
I fidget with my key fob all the way up the elevator. I’ve never brought a woman into my domain before — at least not with the intention of having her spend the night — and my brain runs through a mental checklist. What does she like for breakfast? Does she even eat breakfast? Coffee or tea? Or juice?
But as soon as the elevator opens, and we’ve entered my space, my worries fly away. She gasps, covering her mouth as she takes it all in — the open concept kitchen, the leather couches, the floor to ceiling windows that look north to Downtown. “This view, Danny. Wow.”
I shoot her a grin while giving a silent fist pump. “I’m glad you like it.”
She bends and gives me a view of her luscious ass. It takes me a second to realize she’s removing her weapon. “Do you have a safe?”
“No, but I can have one sent over first thing.”
“Is there somewhere safe you’d like me to stow this?”
Fuck, I don’t know. But after her confession at dinner, I can understand why she’s so focused on personal protection. “How about inside the credenza by the front door?” She hands it over and even though I return a moment later, the living room’s empty. “Roxi?”
“In here,” she calls from my bedroom.
I enter my room to discover her splayed across the bed wearing nothing but her bra and very see through panties. The hard-on that comes is pretty instantaneous, although it’s been building in fits and starts all evening. The Fou Frog was like one continuous foreplay, and now I’m ready for the main event.
I pull my shirt from my slacks, and take my time unbuttoning, reveling in the way her eyes rove hungrily over my body. Especially when I shrug out of my shirt and toss it over a low ottoman. I make sure to flex with each movement so that I’m giving her a little show. I pause with my hand on my belt, loving how she bites her lip as she’s watching, anticipating. She flicks her gaze up, and our gazes tangle. The heat between us rises an easy ten degrees. “Take it off, already,” she bosses, voice husky and eager.
“It’s going to cost you,” I say, because I can’t resist drawing this out as long as possible.
“Oh?”
“Yep.”
“And what exactly, is it going to cost?”
I tap a finger to my lips, thinking. “So many choices,” I murmur.
She pushes herself up to half-sitting. “How about I make this easier for you?” She reaches behind her back and makes short work of the clasps. But she doesn’t reveal the plush, sensuous flesh beneath.
“Tease,” I rasp. Her delighted smirk pulls a laugh from me. She drops first one strap, then the other, so that her lacy undergarment is now resting on her tight, hard nipples. My cock jerks. I whip off my belt, and push out of my slacks and bottoms in one move, freeing my cock. It juts between us, heavy and hard, precome beading at the tip.
“Come here,” she practically growls, eyes riveted on my swollen cock.
I close the distance in two steps and hook a finger at the center of her bra and yank, freeing her peachy rose colored tips. My mouth waters to taste her. We reach for each other, her hand coming to my cock, mine to a breast so I can brush a thumb across the sensitive tip. We sink to the bed and end up facing away from each other. I have half a mind to flip her around, but then her mouth lands on my cock, tongue circling my crown then sliding down to my root, while her hand plays with my balls.
Bring it.
She props up her leg, presenting her pussy, and who’m I to say no to a feast? I nip at the inside of her thigh then slide my tongue through her slick folds, going straight for her clit. Everything I do with my mouth, she mimics on my cock, and we take turns teasing each other until we’re both panting and squirming. The sensation of licking while being licked is a mind fuck, but one so good, I want more. “If I had lube, I’d have my finger up your pretty little rosebud of an ass,” I say, nearly coming when she groans around my cock. I take another hit of her pussy, filling my senses with her taste, her scent, until I can hardly stand it. I pull away long enough to order her to move. “On your hands and knees.” She complies with an eager noise in her throat, and I rise to my knees, sliding the head of my cock through her swollen pussy lips. I tease her until she’s thrusting back, seeking relief.
I bend over her, wrapping an arm around her soft belly, and drive into her. The sound of my balls slapping against her only serves to drive both of us to new heights. She meets each thrust with one of her own, adding a little twist and a wriggle at the end that makes me crazy. I slide my palm down over her trimmed mound to cup her sex, seeking and finding her clit, sliding over it with each thrust, giving her the slow, steady rhythm I know she likes. She drops her head with a deep groan. “Oh Danny. It’s so deep. I think I’m going to break.”
“No sweetheart, you’re going to fly,” I murmur. “Let go. I’ve got you.” I bend, covering her completely, and bite her shoulder, while I find her nipples with my other hand and give a firm pinch. That’s what sends her over the edge, and I pinch again, harder, as I drive into her, eyes losing focus as she comes so hard on my cock, that for a second, I forget to breathe. And then I’m exploding, spilling my seed deep in her cunt, vision narrowing, as wave after wave of release crashes over me. She drops to her elbows and bows her head, breath coming in harsh gasps. She wriggles and moans, and I drive into her again, taking my cues from her. “Do you want more, sweetheart?”
She answers with a nod and a grunt, and I continue to stroke into her and slide my fingers back and forth over the sensitized bundle of nerves until she cries out and shatters a second time. We collapse to our sides, and I pull her flush against my chest. We stay that way, spent, as our brains slowly return to our bodies. And in that moment, I recognize two things. First, I will never be the same again. Roxi has ruined me for all others. Second, that I am utterly and totally in love. And I have no idea how to tell her.
Chapter Sixteen
I wake up to an empty bed, and the sound of the Beatles coming from the kitchen. I throw on a pair of sweats and make my way down the hall and stop short at the picture in front of me. Roxi’s appropriated my flannel robe, and is stirring at the stove, hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. But what captivates me, what makes me fall more in love with her, is the off-key singing of Penny Lane as she dumps half a bag of shredded cheese into the pan.
I lean on the wall and watch, a stupid grin plastered on my face. She’s bobbing in time with the music, shimmying her hips as she stirs. I commit this picture of her to memory. Waking up with her in my bed every day for the last two-and-a half weeks have been… incredible. I’ve learned she’s not a morning person but she loves morning sex, that she loves her coffee with so much cream it’s tan, and she still insists on driving herself to work — “Because I’m staying over, not moving in.”
At first it was just her suitcase. But then it was an extra pair of shoes, and a few extra undergarments. Now she has her own dresser drawer, and her preferred bottle of shampoo in the shower. She may still be housesitting, but in my mind, she’s living here.
And I like it.
A lot.
I can’t resist not touching her any longer, so I make my presence known, and slip behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck. “Mmm. Cheesy eggs? How’d you know they’re my favorite?”
Her laugh is sweet and husky as she leans back into me, still swaying with the music. “My super-psychic spidey powers.”
“You didn’t have to get up and cook. I’d have made something.”
She turns off the burner, then swivels to face me, looping her arms around my neck and giving me a kiss. She tastes like orange juice. “I know. But I wanted to do something special for you this morning. Today’s the day you usually visit your mom, right?”
So. Fucking. Obser
vant. My heart swells. Visiting mom is… depressing. And even though she’s only been here a short time, she’s already keyed into my emotions, as much as I try and play those cards close. Maybe it’s because her act of kindness has caught me off guard, but the words slip out as if I was used to saying them every day. “I love you, Rox.”
She pulls back, eyes searching mine, then flashes me one of her signature wide smiles. “Yeah? You sure you’re not just bamboozled by my fabulous tits?”
Leave it to her to make light of my declaration. But I’m not letting it go. Not this time. “Oh, I’m absofuckinglutely dazzled by your fabulous tits, and the way you are in bed, and your off-key singing, and your very sexy tattoo.” My voice turns to gravel as I fight to find the words. “And your passion, and how you squeeze the toothpaste from the bottom and wash out the cap. I’m ensorceled, and I’ve fallen for you hook, line, and sinker.” My pulse races, and my chest grows tight as I watch her for any inkling of a reaction.
Her face softens, and she grazes my cheek with the back of her knuckles. “And I love you too, Danny. You can keep trying to convince me you’re a big, bad wolf, but I know better.” She hesitates, biting her lip. “And no matter what happens in the future, I want you to know — right now — that I’m crazy about you,” she adds, kissing the corner of my mouth.
I lift her to the counter and slip my hands underneath the robe, sliding my palms up her thighs. Maybe it’s because I’m giddy from our mutual declarations, high on endorphins instead of caffeine, but my senses are heightened. Her skin feels silkier under my palms. The fuzz of the flannel, softer. The scent of her, more heavenly, the taste of her when we kiss, better.
And kiss we do. By the time we pull apart, my morning wood is tenting my sweats. She eyes my bulge with a sly smile. “Hungry for more than breakfast?”
“Always.” I slide my hands higher up her thighs, caressing her sex, as wet as I am hard. “It seems I’m not the only one.”
She opens her legs a little wider and I part her folds, sliding one, then two fingers into her sweet heat. “I want your cock, not your fingers,” she urges, hands pushing down my waistband. I love that sometimes with her, it’s fucking full-stop. The counter is at the perfect height and she wraps her legs around me as I slide into her with a sigh of relief. She yanks open her robe, pressing her tits against my chest, and dropping her head to leave a bite on my shoulder. “Yes,” she says through gritted teeth as I thrust into her, burying myself in her hot pussy. “I love this, love you deep inside me, pushing hard.”
“I love your hot little cunt,” I grunt. “The way you squeeze me. So… tight.”
I can sense her winding up. Her breaths come faster, sharper, the tiny noises of enjoyment she makes in the back of her throat, deeper. And I’m right there with her, ready to spill myself into the deepest part of her. Her fingernails dig into my back and it eggs me on, I push harder, deeper, as deep as I can go, focusing on my breathing to hold the inevitable at bay until she drops her head with a cry, and this morning, a laugh, as she shudders in my arms, and I let go, spilling my come into her hot, tight, pussy. “God, I fucking love you,” I roar as a laugh rumbles out of me and mingles with hers.
Visions of babies and forever dance behind my eyes, and for once, I don’t banish them. But I do keep them to myself, at least for now. She side-eyes the eggs. “I think they’re still warm,” she says with a rueful smile. I grab a fork and scoop some up, feeding her a bite. “Mmm. Yummers,” she says, shutting her eyes.
I follow up with a bite, myself. There are bits of bacon cooked into the eggy, cheesy goo, and it’s delicious. “Where’d you learn to cook like this?”
“My dad used to make this special breakfast for us when we were kids — cheesy bacon and eggs. I always thought he should market it.”
“Come with me today,” I blurt. “Come meet my mom.”
“Of course,” she answers with genuine warmth. “I’m happy to come anytime, but don’t feel like you have to… now that we’re…” she waves between us.
I capture both her hands, holding both of them still. “I’ve never introduced anyone… significant to my mom.” I let the words hang between us.
Her eyes warm. “So I’m… significant, huh?” She reaches for another bite of egg, this time feeding it to me.
I decide to lay all the cards on the table. “You’re it for me, babe. I might have loved Anita the way a dumb twenty-year-old loves, but no one’s come close to the way I feel about you. And even though she won’t understand it, or remember the conversation, I want my mom to meet the woman I love.”
Roxi beams. “Aww, see? You are a big ole teddy bear.” She tilts her chin, indicating she expects a kiss, which I happily give her.
“Nope. I’m not,” I argue. “But… you do make me want to be a better man. The best kind of man.” I just hope it’s enough for her.
Chapter Seventeen
“So I have an idea.”
Roxi turns from polishing glasses behind the bar. “Lay it on me, teddy bear.” She’s taken to calling me that ever since I took her to visit my mom. Only in private, but I keep waiting for her to drop the name in front of Harrison or Stockton, just for laughs.
“I’d like the Whiskey Den to host a Thanksgiving buffet in the parking lot.”
Her eyebrows shoot skyward. “On Thanksgiving?”
I nod. “My great-grandfather used to host an enormous Thanksgiving here in the West Bottoms, free to anyone. It was part of what made him super popular. I think I’d like to resurrect the tradition.”
Her brows knit together. “Why? Are you thinking of running for office?”
I shake my head with a laugh. “No. I just thought it’d be a nice way to give back. That’s all.”
She rounds the bar and slips between my legs, looping her arms around my neck. “I think it’s a wonderful idea. Teddy bear,” she adds with a smirk, before kissing me.
It’s early afternoon and it’s slow. I have half a mind to take her back to the stockroom for a little sneaky time. But Vince’s voice behind us pours cold water on that thought.
“Can I talk to you?” he asks gruffly, not bothering with pleasantries.
“I’ve got to pull inventory,” Roxi says, disengaging from my embrace and hurrying back to the stockroom. With any other client, I’d have told her to stay, but not with the way Vince keeps eyeing her when he thinks I’m not watching.
“What can I do for you, Vince?”
“I’d like to set up another poker game.”
“Sure thing. When?”
“Tonight.”
I bite back an exasperated sigh. Lately, I’ve gotten the feeling that Vince has been purposefully testing my limits. But so far, he hasn’t violated any of the Whiskey Den membership rules, and I’m not about to boot him just because I think he’s an asshole. “It depends on your players. How many do I need to vet?”
“Only one.” He hands me a piece of paper with a name on it. Alex Descharmes. I study his bold scrawl, racking my brain as to why I know that name. It’ll come to me, it always does. And my vetting process is thorough, so I’m sure I’ll figure out why that name means something to me. I nod once. “I’ll give you a call by five. Do you want me to fill the other spots?”
He nods.
“Anything else? Can I pour you something?”
“Not today. I have an… appointment. See you this evening?”
“I’ll be here.” Watching your ass. I raise my hand as he leaves the bar. As soon as the door closes behind him, I pull out my phone and call Harrison.
“‘Sup?” he asks by way of greeting.
“You busy tonight?”
“Poker game?”
“Yep.”
“I gotta pass tonight.”
“Why?” I scoff. “Hot date?”
“Yeah. With the gym.” He doesn’t sound pleased.
“Blow it off.”
“No can do.”
“Your loss. Can you let Stockton know?”
&n
bsp; “He’ll be there. Who else is on the list?”
“Vince, some new guy I’ve got to vet — Alex Descharmes? Does that name ring a bell?”
“Can’t help you there. Who else?”
“I still have to make calls, but the usual suspects — Dmitri and Robert Templeton. Any suggestions in case I need a fifth?”
“Actually, yeah. First baseman for the Kings — Robbie Moran. He’s got more money than Christ, and an attitude to go with it. I’d love him to be relieved of some of it.”
“Will you make the call?”
“You bet. Catch up with you soon?”
“You know where to find me.” I stuff my phone in my pocket and head back to my office to grab my laptop. I poke my head in the stockroom “You can come out now.” But it’s empty. “Roxi?” She probably stepped into the restaurant that shares a back wall with the Den, but I can’t help the niggle of worry that ripples through me. I head down to the office, and bump smack into her as she’s shutting the door. She squeals in surprise as I catch her. “What the fuck are you doing in there?” I growl.
For the first time ever in our relationship, she looks scared. “I-I’m sorry. I was just stowing my gun.”
I narrow my eyes, suspicion burning a hole in my belly. Maybe it’s leftover from Vince, but something feels terribly, horribly off. “How’d you get in? The door’s always locked and I have the only key.”
“I-it was open a crack. I thought it would be okay. I didn’t touch anything, I swear.”
I hate this. She knows my office is off-limits, and that it’s for her own safety. She knows I keep my laptop password protected and under lock and key. It’s for her protection as much as mine. “Why were you in there, Roxi?”
“I told you,” she snaps. “I was stowing my weapon. Just like you require.”
I don’t like that we’re arguing. I don’t like that this brings up all my old suspicions of her. I don’t like it at all. I also don’t have time to deal with it right now. I’ve got to run a series of deep checks on this Alex character. As it is, I’m going to be pushing right up against my five o’clock deadline to pull together a game. “I’m sorry I snapped, but you know I can’t have you in there.”