The guy was down, cowed and beaten, bleeding from the face and likely had one or more broken ribs. The message had been delivered and, by the look of him, the guy would talk his grandma into selling her plasma so the next payment wouldn’t be light.
Stew still pulled a gun out of his jeans and drilled a round in the prone man’s thigh. The guy cried out in agony and curled into himself deeper, cradling his thigh.
Flesh wound, it’d bleed like a motherfucker and hurt worse, but it was way over the top.
Then Stew kicked him again, this time in the spine, turned, jerked his head at his crew and they all disappeared.
Layne tensed to move toward the guy but Ryker curled a meaty hand around Layne’s shoulder.
“Focus, bro,” he whispered. “Tonight you’re a hero for your boys, not this guy. Let’s go. Baranski’s not done.”
Layne clenched his jaw, knowing Ryker was right. It would be the right thing to do but being seen would also jeopardize the mission. People talked even if you told them to keep their traps shut. He didn’t need his and Ryker’s attendance at the festivities getting out.
Though Ryker was right and Layne was pissed about it, he still moved through the shadows with Ryker to the Suburban. Once they were in the cab, they still had eyes on the guy and Layne waited with Ryker, both of them silent, until the guy crawled to his feet, arm wrapped around his ribs, bent nearly double with his other hand at his thigh, blood oozing between his fingers, and he scuttled into the night dragging his bad leg.
When they lost sight of him, Ryker muttered, “Bet that dipshit lost the urge to visit the track anytime soon.”
Layne turned to Ryker, not in the mood for a breakdown. “Stew has another collection?”
Ryker shook his head, Layne felt his eyes on him in the dark and he didn’t get a good feeling when he saw the white of Ryker’s smile. “Nope. After he’s done a job, he gets horny.”
“Come again?” Layne asked.
“Your ex ain’t gonna like those photos you just took but he’s got her hooked deep and he knows it. You wanna be certain to get a woman to set a man out, you show her pictures of that man porkin’ another woman. Even Baranski isn’t stupid enough for you to show him those kind of shots and not know his time in Big Momma’s House o’ the Free Ride is up.”
This just got worse and worse.
Jesus.
“You know where he’ll be?” Layne asked but he knew Ryker knew.
“Yeah,” Ryker sounded like he was laughing. “Sorry bro, ‘bout to show you the only thing that’ll put you off that piece you got waitin’ for you at home.”
“Great,” Layne muttered and started the SUV through Ryker’s chuckle.
Ryker led him to a trailer park just out of the ‘burg. Negotiating it, Layne knew that Stew’s other woman might not carry extra baggage like Gabby, on her body and through two boys fathered by another man, but she wasn’t a supermodel either.
Layne cut the lights when Ryker told him they were rolling close, parked where Ryker instructed and they both walked through the cold, silent dark of the trailer park. When they got to the trailer Ryker indicated, one end was lit, the curtains opened. Ryker stayed clear and kept lookout as Layne approached the trailer.
When he got there, Layne saw that Stew was already celebrating and Ryker’s information, already proved legit, became even more so. She was naked on her hands and knees, she was absolutely no supermodel, Stew was naked behind her and he was going through the backdoor. Not pretty.
Layne’s mouth filled with saliva and he swallowed it down.
Jesus.
He definitely needed a new job.
He wasted no time and didn’t try to hide. He’d done this often enough. Even with him right at the window, they weren’t going to spot him. They were both concentrating on other things. Layne got his shots, moved from the window, crouched with his back to the trailer, scrolled through what he had viewing the screen on the back of his camera, decided he had enough at the same time deciding, once those shots were printed, he was going to destroy the memory card and the camera.
His eyes went to Ryker and he nodded, Ryker nodded back and they moved to the SUV.
When they were underway, Ryker said, “Drop me by my babe’s.”
“You got it.”
Ryker directed him to a neighborhood in the ‘burg. Lower middle class, neat but tiny houses that people took care of. Layne pulled into the drive that Ryker indicated and no sooner had he stopped when the outside light came on. There was a black flag by the door with an orange pumpkin on it and three carved jack o’ lanterns lining the front steps. Layne was mildly surprised that Ryker bagged a babe who lived in a tidy neighborhood and had a pumpkin flag flying at her door and jack o’ lanterns on her steps.
He was more surprised when the front door opened, a leggy woman with a mass of curly red hair stood in it, her thin, short robe not hiding much of her phenomenal figure but it also wasn’t putting it on show either. She was peering at the truck, looking awake but ready for bed and whatever might happen there. She’d waited up for her man.
Layne looked at Ryker and noted, “Not bad.”
At Layne’s words, Ryker turned to him and shared, “She makes pumpkin bread that should win awards and the same can be said for the way she gives head. Seriously, bro, every time she goes down on me, every single time, I swear my dick’s gonna explode. She’s that good.”
Layne shook his head. “I already got Stew goin’ at his piece burned in my brain, Ryker, now you’re just bein’ cruel.”
Ryker shot him his ugly smile, opened his door and folded out of the cab. Layne put the SUV in reverse, pulled out but caught sight of Ryker entering the house, his huge frame hiding his woman but he had an arm around her, his neck bent to look down at her, shuffling her back. Ryker kicked the door closed and Layne’s eyes went back to the road.
He drove home and noted no Calais on the curb or in the drive and, when the garage door went up, no Charger. Seth apparently decided to brave the homefront and Layne hoped he hadn’t made the wrong decision.
Layne entered the house and Blondie moseyed up to him, prepared to give a greeting but tuckered out. He gave her a quick rubdown then moved beyond her, up the stairs, Blondie following and they separated at the top, Blondie heading to Jasper’s opened door. He shrugged his jacket off and swung it around the back of his desk chair. Then he secured his guns and the camera in the locked cabinet and walked into his room.
He stopped at his side of the bed. Moonlight was shining through all three of the windows, the curtains opened, Rocky on her side of the bed curled tight into a ball. He reached under his pillows, got his pajamas and didn’t bother going to the walk-in to change, he did it right there. Then he walked to the windows and started to close the curtains. He was on window three when he heard Rocky.
“What are you doing?”
He turned to her and replied softly, “Closin’ us in, baby.”
He watched, the moonlight from the window he hadn’t shut off to outside illuminating her as she threw back the covers and got out of bed.
She went to one of the windows he’d done and threw open the curtains.
What the fuck?
“Roc –”
She turned to him and whispered, “It’s too dark.”
Okay, again… what the fuck?
She’d never been scared of the dark.
“Rocky, we need the curtains closed.”
She shook her head and moved to the window next to the one he was at. “No.”
He walked to her as she threw one side of the curtains open and asked what was on his mind. “Baby, what the fuck?”
“It’s too dark,” she repeated.
“We don’t need people seein’ in, Roc, and there are people out there who’ll be lookin’.”
“It’s too dark,” she said yet again.
She moved to pass him to get to the other side of the drapes and he caught her by hooking an arm around her belly. She stopped
and looked up at him.
“Rocky –”
“I need them open, Layne.” She tried to pull from him but he tightened his arm, sliding it around her to bring her up against his front.
“We can’t sleep with them open, Roc, too much exposure.”
“I need them open,” she repeated.
“Sorry, sweetcheeks, that’s not gonna happen,” he told her, felt her body get tight, not with anger, with something else, something that started seeping into the room, something not good and not right.
“I need them open,” she whispered, her voice suddenly trembling.
Layne heard it and treaded cautiously when he reminded her, “Baby, you’ve slept with them closed the last three nights.”
“Yes,” she was still whispering, “but you were here.”
Layne’s body went solid at her words and whatever was coming from Rocky started filling the room, pressing into them and he sensed that whatever it was, she didn’t have it in her to beat it back. Whatever it was, he needed to beat it back for her.
“You scared of the dark?” he asked gently.
She didn’t answer. Instead she said, “I need the light.”
“You scared of the dark, Rocky?”
“I need the light,” she repeated, now her body was trembling.
“You weren’t scared of the dark twenty years ago, honey.”
“No, I wasn’t,” she whispered again. “Because you were there.”
Fucking hell.
His hands went to the sides of her head and he turned her, moving her backward toward the bed.
“What scares you?” he asked, she didn’t answer except to shake her head in his hands. “What scares you, baby?” No answer, her legs hit bed and he stopped, thinking he knew so he explained, “Tonight wasn’t dangerous, Rocky.” She tried to look away but he kept her head tipped toward him and his face got close to hers. “It wasn’t dangerous and I had backup.”
She lifted her hands and curled them around his wrists, whispering, “Layne.”
“I’m good at what I do,” he told her and she shook her head in his hands again so he gave her a gentle squeeze and moved even closer. “Swear, I’m good at what I do.”
She stared in his eyes through the dark and, suddenly, she lifted up on her toes half an inch and her mouth was on his.
He didn’t know what was happening with her and it more than concerned him but, even so, Layne didn’t hesitate. He accepted her invitation by slanting his head to the side, his hands moved from her head to her waist, curling around her back, trapping her in his arms and he kissed her.
After all those dreams, Layne was ready for what was about to happen and had been ready for a long fucking time and Rocky showed him she felt the same. She gave with her mouth and took with her hands. Greedy, hungry, she was all over him, pressing into him, communicating need.
He understood her need, her need was in his blood, blood that was now coursing through his body and making his cock hard.
He put his hands to her pits and lifted her up high, his mouth disengaging from hers, he growled, “Knees,” and she knew what he was saying. She kicked her calves back and he set her on her knees in the bed.
His hands went to the hem of his tee and he nearly growled again when, without delay, her arms went straight up to help him. He yanked off the tee, tossed it aside and one hand went to the middle of her back, pushing in and up, arching her back, he bent and used his other hand to lift her breast, he took it with his mouth and sucked deep.
Her fingers slid into his hair and she moaned, arching her back further, holding him fast. He pulled hard then swirled with his tongue, pulled hard again and then moved to the other side to do the same. When he was done, she was clenching his hair in her fists and she pulled him up, his mouth to hers and he took it, the kiss deeper, wilder, out-of-control as she pressed her bared tits tight to his chest and one of her hands went into his pajamas to curl into his ass, the other one went in the front to wrap around his hard cock and she pulled him to her.
Christ, she was primed already.
He tore his mouth from hers and she stroked his cock before gently tugging him toward her again and he shook his head. “Unh-unh, baby, I’m hungry.”
He listened to her breath catch and he knew she remembered. He’d say that to her when he wanted to go down on her, whenever he wanted to go down on her. He’d walk up behind her as she was doing the dishes, he’d whisper it in her ear when she was curled into him on the couch, when he’d wake her up in the middle of the night or when he woke up in the morning wanting the taste of her. It got to the point if he said it because he was hungry for food, her eyes would go half-mast, her mouth would get soft and he knew what she was thinking and would have to fight against going hard.
And she knew now and he knew she knew because she let him go and moved to her back. He moved in, sliding his fingers into her panties, he yanked them roughly down her legs and tossed them aside. She pulled herself up on the bed and was opening her legs before he got a knee to the mattress.
She wanted it, his Rocky, fuck, she was magnificent.
Hands to the soft skin of her inner thighs, he spread her wider and put his mouth to her. Her hips jerked and she gave him another mew. That coupled with the taste of her, having it back after so long meant he didn’t go slow, he didn’t take it easy, he just took. Her feet went into the bed and she lifted her hips to offer more, rubbing herself against him.
Christ, amazing.
He took and she gave and he listened as her excitement increased, became feverish, his cock so hard it was aching by the time her hands slid into his hair, her hips surged up, she cried out and he heard and felt her come.
He left her still moaning, going up and over her, hooking the back of her knee with one hand to pull it up as he pulled his cock out of pajamas, guided the tip to her slick pussy and drove in.
No, he’d been wrong, this was amazing.
“Layne,” she breathed, her pussy still convulsing with her orgasm.
“Take me, baby,” he grunted, driving in, hard, deep, fast.
“Yes,” she whispered, lifting her other knee, holding him tight at his sides with her thighs, her arms wrapping around his shoulders.
He buried his face in her neck and kept driving. “Christ, you feel beautiful.”
“Baby,” she gasped and he heard it, fuck, he heard it, she was going to come again.
“That’s it,” he kept thrusting, her arms tightening around him, he pushed deeper.
“Oh my God.”
Shit, he was close, she sounded just as close and he hoped to God she was.
He moved his lips up her throat to take her mouth in a kiss as she took his driving cock and she panted through his kiss then sucked his tongue deep with her orgasm.
When she did, Layne let go and joined her, groaning into her mouth as he buried himself to the root and his world erased of everything but his cock and Raquel and the beauty only she could give him.
When he was done, he stayed rooted but moved his face into her neck and listened to her heavy breathing as he fought to control his own. He let minutes pass before, one by one, he moved her legs so her calves were swung in and she was wrapped all around him.
Her head turned so her lips were at his ear. “I think that’s about as real as it gets,” she whispered.
Oh yeah, that was about as real as it got, and about as good.
He lifted his head and grinned down at her in the shadows. “You’re right about that, sweetcheeks.”
He felt her body tighten around him even as she moved a hand to lay it against his jaw.
“Layne –” she started.
Oh no. Fuck no.
He pulled out of her, righted his pajamas then moving off her and up. He took her with him, planting her on her feet beside the bed. He found the tee and she stood there, motionless, as he pulled the neck of his tee over her head and then she finally shoved her arms through.
He put his lips to hers and w
hispered, “Get cleaned up, baby.”
She remained immobile, her head tilted back to look at him but she whispered so softly it was hard to hear, “You remembered.”
He remembered.
He remembered she didn’t like to sleep naked. She might fall asleep that way but she always got up and put something on. She also liked to clean up after they were done. Even if they’d go for a second or third round, she’d clean up after each time. Sometimes he’d do it for her.
Yes, he remembered. He remembered everything.
And she should know that.
His fingers curled around her neck and he put his forehead to hers before sharing, “I remember, Rocky. I remember everything. I remember every… fucking… thing.”
Her fingers curved into his at her neck and she breathed, “Layne –”
He cut her off by ordering, “Get cleaned up and come back to me.”
“Sweetheart –”
“Go, baby, and come back to me.”
She hesitated a second before nodding, he let her go and she moved away. He closed the curtains and got into bed on her side. He was in the middle waiting for her when she returned and slid in the bed then instantly moved into him.
“You want your panties?” he asked.
“Do you know where they are?” she asked back.
“No fuckin’ clue,” he answered and heard her soft giggle, liked it, so he slid one hand down her back, pulled up the tee then cupped the soft, generous cheek of her ass.
“No,” she said softly when his fingers curled into her. “I don’t think I want my panties.”
“Good,” he whispered and pulled her deeper into his body as her arm stole under his and around his waist.
He fell silent and so did Rocky until she called tentatively, “Layne.”
He knew by her tone where she was going.
“No, Roc,” he replied.
“Baby,” she whispered, “this was a mistake.”
His hand tightened on her ass, his arm tightened around her back and his voice was a rumble when he returned, “Made a lotta mistakes in my life, didn’t know about them until later. Sayin’ that, sweetcheeks, I know deep in my gut this was no mistake.”
Golden Trail Page 31