Lusting After Layla

by Theresa Paolo

  “I really need to shower.” She yanked her hand out of his and hurried away before he could stop her.

  Chapter 8

  Declan watched slack-jawed as Layla hurried down the hall and slammed the bathroom door. Without his bike, he couldn’t leave if he wanted to, but even if his bike was here there was no way in hell he’d take off now. She needed him whether she wanted to believe it or not, and damn it, he was going to be there for her.

  He took determined strides down the hallway and stopped outside the bathroom door, hand poised to knock when the shower turned on. The noise wasn’t enough to drown out Layla’s sobs, though.

  Declan had been shot at, beaten, skin tore from his face with the sharp edge of a knife, yet hearing the sobs coming out of Layla was like no pain he’d ever known. It poked at his heart, ripped at his gut, and made him want to track down every person who’d ever hurt her.

  Some people wore their scars for others to see like he did, but Layla’s were imbedded deep inside her. Wounds would always heal, but scars were forever. They stayed, reminding you of things you’d never want to remember, but no matter how hard you tried, couldn’t forget.

  “Layla,” he said, but there was no answer. He tried the knob and sighed in relief when it turned with little effort. He pushed the door open, walking into a cloud of steam. Her clothes were piled on the floor, and he quickly discarded his own.

  He stepped into the shower to find her pressed against the wall, water sluicing down her backside. She was so tiny standing in the corner, and he couldn’t figure out how someone as small could be so impossibly strong.

  Any man would be blind not to notice how perfect her curves were, but right now, he didn’t care about that. He only cared about what lay on the inside.

  He stepped up behind her and kissed her shoulder before reaching for the shower puff that hung from a metal shower caddy. He squeezed a good amount of soap onto the purple mesh material and placed it at the crook of Layla’s neck.

  He bent down, resting his cheek against her wet hair, his mouth inches from her ear. “Let me take care of you.”

  He expected her to force a fake ass smile and swat away tears, but her head fell forward in a nod. An indescribable pull tugged at his heart, and he brought the ball of mesh down her shoulder to her arm. He splayed his free hand against her stomach, holding her against him as he ran the puff along the curve of her side and over the swell of her hip.

  Her body relaxed, resting her weight on him, and he was happy to carry it for her. His dick jumped at the contact, but he took a deep breath, pressing down any urges. While he would love to take Layla from behind just like this, kick her leg up onto the edge of the tub and drive into her, he wouldn’t. Not when she was vulnerable.

  When they finally had sex, he wanted her to be all there with him. So he ignored the animalistic desires raging inside him and continued washing her. He drew the puff over one pink pebbled nipple and then the other. She inhaled as he circled each breast, leaving a trail of soap suds in its wake.

  He brought his hand to her back, soaping up her shoulders and following the sexy curve of her spine. Her ass was amazing—two perfectly round cheeks that he couldn’t wait to sink his fingers into. He bent his knees, dragging his chest down her body, the soap creating a slick descent.

  His hand came around the front of her leg, and he ran the puff over the defined muscle in her calf. He began to stand as he brought the puff up the sweet, milky skin of her thigh. She gasped as he caressed the inner flesh and ever-so-slowly moved to her center.

  He closed his eyes, fighting the deep yearning that always wanted her. He tried to ignore the fantasies of her crying out his name as he thrust into her tight opening. His jaw clenched as the visions materialized in his mind, and all the blood flowed to his throbbing erection.

  She’d let him take care of her, and he refused to take advantage no matter how good her skin felt pressed against his. He moved his hand away, and her fingers wrapped around his wrist, holding him in place.

  “Touch me,” she said, and his resolve nearly dissipated.

  He rested his head against hers, his mouth brushing against her ear. “Not like this.”

  She turned in his arms, her taut nipples sliding across his chest, tugging at the tiny piece of strength he had left. “Please.” Her eyes met his, and it was like the remnants of a storm, but the sun was coming out, blocking out the darkness and filling the sky with that beautiful blue. “I need you.”

  The sliver of resolve he’d clung to snapped. He grabbed her face, bringing his lips down on hers in a fury of desire. A moan slipped from her lips, and he devoured it like a drowning man seeking his next breath. Their bodies slipped against each other, sending him into a spiral of need.

  He dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her ass and lifted her up. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, and he pressed her against the shower wall.

  His finger slid against her wet center, and her body arched, asking for more. He obliged, slipping his finger into her tight heat, drawing it out and pushing it back in. Her grip tightened on his shoulder, pulling him closer still as he worked his finger in and out.

  She cried out when his thumb swiped across her swollen bundle of nerves, and he took pleasure in watching her eyes roll in the back of her head as he circled the engorged nub.

  “I want you,” she said, kissing a path of fiery kisses down his shoulder.

  “I have a condom in my wallet,” he said, nipping at her ear and dragging his mouth down the silky, smooth curve of her neck.

  “Get it. Now,” she breathed, puffing warm delicious air against his wet skin.

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  “Then don’t.” She tightened her hold on his neck, arching her body and pressing her slick center against his engorged cock. He shivered as desire exploded in rapid succession through his body.

  He needed to be inside her, feels her tight walls closing around him. He grabbed the shower curtain and yanked it open, stepping out of the tub with Layla still holding tight.

  He bent down, and she nipped at his neck as he fished out his wallet. She dragged her tongue along his neck, swirling it at the crook. He groaned at the sensation, eyes practically rolling in the back of his head. He sprang up, placing her sweet little ass on the counter and pulling away.

  She looked so damn beautiful, her wet hair slicked back, her eyes wide and desperate, her lush lips parted and swollen. He kept his eyes on hers as he ripped the condom wrapper with his teeth and quickly sheathed himself.

  He readied his cock at her slick opening and rested a finger beneath her chin. He wanted to see her as they became one, wanted to see the ecstasy on her face as he drove her toward the edge.

  Her eyes met his in a clash of desperate need and impatience. Her teeth slid over her bottom lip, and he thrust inside her. She cried out, hands grappling for the counter. He grabbed her ass and pulled her close, sliding her tight greedy walls down his hard length.

  He had dreamed about this moment for five long years, and as he moved in and out of Layla, he realized that his dreams had failed him. They never imagined how good she would actually feel, how mind numbingly beautiful she was with her kiss swollen lips and pleasure heavy lids.

  A moan tore from her mouth, and he bent his head, capturing her lips. Her tongue darted out, meeting his in a sexy dance of give and take. Her body arched, and she started to move with him. He tightened his hold on her hips and guided her up and down, deeper and deeper, each thrust bringing him closer and closer to pure ecstasy.

  He refused to get there first. He told her he would take care of her, and he wasn’t going to stop until he did. His thumb stroked her swollen bud, and he dipped his head, taking a tight pink nipple between his teeth. He nipped gently, tugging at the taut flesh. Her body bucked, and moans tumbled from her in a beautiful chorus that he locked away in his memory.

  Her walls clenched around him, and he brought his mouth to hers. Just as their lips touc
hed, her body jolted, triggering an aftershock of tremors. He held her close and drove into her. His balls tightened, white spots sparked behind his eyes. His body rocked with the force, and then pure ecstasy consumed him.

  Unable to hold himself up, he leaned against the counter, resting his head in the crook of Layla’s neck. He kissed her there once, twice, three times before gaining his strength and straightening. She met him with a satisfied smile.

  “That was unexpected,” she said.

  “It wasn’t my intention when I came in here.” Guilt started to consume him for taking advantage of her when she was the most vulnerable.

  Her hands landed on his cheeks, and she forced him to look at her. “Intention or not it was perfect.” She kissed him soft and sweet, just like her, and he knew that his life would never be the same.

  Chapter 9

  When Layla woke up, having crazy bathroom sex was the last thing on her mind, but now that’s all she could think about. Her body still zinged from Declan’s kisses, his touch, and the way he looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world. She didn’t know desire until Declan had placed her on that bathroom counter. She thought she’d die from the desperation to feel him inside her.

  It was crazy how one minute she was a complete and total wreck and the next she was the happiest she’d ever been. He did that to her. He made everything better by just being there. He always had; it’s why she’d sneak off to Calhoun’s after a particularly rough day or stop there on her way home from work to get a minute to herself. She could have gotten coffee anywhere in Red Maple Falls, but there was a reason she’d only ever go to Calhoun’s. Declan was her calm, the one who helped keep her grounded when she felt like life was trying to fling her out of her mind.

  He’d left her to clean herself up and get dressed in privacy, but all she really wanted was another round of mind-blowing sex. She pulled a clean shirt over her head and slipped into her jeans before heading back to the kitchen.

  Declan sat at the table, his big frame completely encasing the chair he was in. He put a piece of pancake in his mouth then noticed she was there. He smiled and pointed to the food. “Does she put crack in these? They are seriously addicting.”

  “I have been wondering that for years.” Layla sat down at the table and lifted her cup to get more coffee when she realized it had already been refilled. It was such a simple gesture, but it went right to her heart.

  “Thank you,” she said, holding the mug up and bringing it to her lips.

  He nodded to her. “You okay?”

  She took a long sip and put the mug down. “I am, and I’m sorry about that. I’m usually really good at holding things in.”

  “Everybody has their breaking point.”

  “I’m just so sick of him going on TV and acting like we’re the ones who are doing him wrong. It’s preposterous. Not only was he abusive toward our mother, but he left us. Never called, never even sent a card for our birthdays, and he expects us to forgive him? To play nice for the cameras? It’s never going to happen.”

  “Good. He doesn’t deserve to have you in his life.”

  Layla looked away, and her eyes caught the time on the microwave. “It’s getting late. I have to go to work soon, and I still have to drop you off.”

  He locked eyes with her. “You should take the day off.”

  “I can’t.” The idea was insane. Layla never took days off. She even worked on the days she had off by covering for other people. The last time she took an unplanned day off was when she came down with the flu, and the only reason she didn’t force herself to go to work was because she didn’t want her residents getting sick. She wasn’t going to call off because she couldn’t handle her liquor.

  “You had a rough morning.”

  “If I called off every time I had a rough morning, I would never work.”

  “Are you always this difficult?”

  “Why? Are you having regrets?”

  He tucked a partially wet strand behind her ear, lingering on the curve of her jaw. “Never. And if you don’t want to take a day, I won’t force you, but I think it would be good for you.”

  She was really tired and while her headache had subsided, there was still a slight ache in her temples. What was one day?

  “Let me see if anyone can cover my shift,” she said. She got up from the table and found her cell in her bag. She scrolled through her contacts and stopped on Maxine. She’d covered many shifts for her over the years, and not that she owed her a favor or anything since she was happy to do it, but if anyone was willing to cover her, it would be Maxine.

  She hovered over her name, debating if she should make the call or just suck it up like she always did and go to work. After a second longer of debate, she hit the call button. She was tired and deserved a day off.

  Maxine answered on the first ring. “Hey Layla, everything okay?”

  “Hey Maxine. Everything is fine. I was wondering… and feel free to say no… but would you be able to cover my shift today?”

  “Are you sure everything is okay?”

  “Promise. Just a bit of a rough morning.”

  Maxine was silent for a moment, and Layla instantly regretted asking. The poor girl was probably wracking her brain for an excuse to turn her down.

  “I saw the news,” Maxine said, and Layla slumped onto the couch. Maybe not going to work was for the best. Everyone would have seen the media storm this morning, and she’d feel like everyone was watching her, waiting for her to crack. She never had and never would, but not having to answer questions about if she saw the latest development would be a relief in itself.

  “Yeah,” she said. There wasn’t much else to say at this point. It wasn’t the first time her father spoke in front of a camera, and as long as they kept ponying up the cash and the screen time, it wouldn’t be his last. It was something she had to deal with now, at least until the world stopped caring about Bex Shepard and her new small-town boyfriend.

  “I’ll absolutely cover your shift,” Maxine said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Layla, I have been waiting for the day when you finally asked me for a favor. Trust me; I’m delighted to, and besides, I need the money. Not sure if my car is going to make it through another winter. Just take care of yourself today, and I’ll see you soon.”

  “Max, thank you. I owe you.”

  “No, you don’t.” Maxine hung up, and Layla headed to the kitchen. Declan was cleaning up his plate and wiping down the counter.

  “I would have done that,” Layla said, coming into the kitchen and picking up her plate.

  Declan took it out of her hand and put it back on the table. “I got it. You barely ate. Sit and finish.”

  “But—”

  Declan cocked an eyebrow, those intense brown eyes leveling her. “You have permission to relax and do nothing productive today. Please just give it a try. I think you might actually like it.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about.” She laughed. “What if I like it too much and I start relaxing more often? Next thing you know the dishes pile up and the laundry starts overflowing from the baskets.”

  He lifted a broad shoulder. “So?”

  “That would be terrible.”

  “There are worse things in life.”

  “Well, that’s true, but dishes, laundry… It’s something I can control.”

  He grimaced. “You are a bit of a control freak.”

  Her lips parted, but she had nothing. “I can’t even argue.”

  A satisfied smile bloomed on his face, highlighting his scar. “Did you get someone to cover for you?”

  “One of my coworkers said she’ll pick up my shift. If she didn’t need the extra money, I’d feel bad.” It didn’t matter how many times she’d covered for Maxine over the years, she still felt guilty pawning her shift onto someone else. The fact that Maxine was grateful to take the overtime made it a little easier, but Layla still felt guilty.

  “Now you don’t
have to.”

  “I don’t like playing hooky.” Work was a responsibility she took seriously. She prided herself on her work ethic and in order to keep that maintained, she needed to show up, but she was tired, a little hungover, and emotionally drained. She loved Freida and Ethel to death, but she didn’t know if she could handle them today.

  “You’re not playing hooky. You needed a day.”

  “A day of debauchery.” She laughed.

  “A day to relax and regroup. And I was thinking.” He got up and grabbed the pot of coffee, bringing it over to the table. He refilled Layla’s cup, and she smiled. She could get used to this.

  “What’s that?” she asked when he didn’t fill in the blank.

  “The Fall Festival has it’s unofficial kick off today.”

  According to the flyers, the Fall Festival didn’t open until this weekend, but all the locals knew the Hayes family kicked it off a couple days early so the locals could have a chance to check everything out before the crowds showed up.

  She hadn’t been to the festival in years. As a kid she looked forward to it, and some of her favorite memories happened up at Basil Hill Farms, but so many people from town would be there. Without the crowds of the out-of-towners, they would practically be on display.

  “We can’t,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  “First of all, you have to get to work. Just because I’m playing hooky doesn’t mean you should too, and secondly…” She held her finger up cutting off his rebuttal. “If we go to the Fall Festival together people are going to talk.”

  He took her finger in his hands and kissed the tip. “Am I allowed to talk now?” he asked with that wickedly adorable smile.

  “Only if you don’t argue with me.”

  “Too bad. First off, I already called Billy. He’s going to run the bar today and tonight. He was scheduled anyway. And secondly, I’m sure Terry has already spread that fire through town, and I don’t care.”