by Cathryn Fox
“What happened?” I ask.
“I lost my house key last week. It must have fallen off my chain somehow. I had to break the window to get in, but I had a few spare keys inside.” He touches the wood covering when we enter. “I just haven’t had a chance to fix this yet.”
I nod, and he leads me to his living room, and I sit on the sofa. I nervously fold my hands in my lap as he positions himself on the coffee table, facing me.
“We need to talk,” he begins but I hold my hand up to stop him.
“First me. I want to say thank you for coming to get me. It’s been a hard night. I wasn’t sure you’d show after I cried wolf last week.”
The hard muscles in his jaw soften. “You know I’ll always be there for you, Layla.”
I smile. “Always my hero.”
He dips his head runs his hands through is hair, his look is troubled when his gaze lands back on me. “That’s just it, Layla I’m no one’s hero.”
“What are you talking about?” I reach for him, and he catches my hand, holding it between his. I absorb his warmth, let it chase away the cold that has settled into my bones since he walked away from me.
“I…I…I couldn’t save your father. I failed you and your mother.”
My heart jumps. Oh, God, has he been carrying guilt for this? “Jack,” I say quickly and move to the edge of the sofa. “You didn’t fail us. Dad was shot in action. There was nothing you could do. You can’t blame yourself for that.”
“I should have been able to do something. I should have moved quicker, drawn my gun faster.” He shakes his head, at a loss. “I don’t know, Layla, I just should have been able to do something.”
He looks at me, but from the demons dancing in his eyes, I’m sure it’s not me he’s even seeing. Worry chases through me. I’ve never seen him like this before, so broken and vulnerable. I wish he had come to me sooner, so I could hold him, help him through this, show him none of it was his fault. They live dangerous lives, and both knew what they were signing up for when they went into the police academy.
“You’re wrong Jack.”
“Layla—”
“No, listen to me. You’re the best man I know. The best man at the precinct. You’re caring, thoughtful, always looking out for those you love. I should know, you’ve never stopped watching me.”
His head snaps up. “I never want anything bad to happen to you.”
“Which is why you’re always looking our for me. But Jack, you’re not my father. I don’t need you to be. That’s not what I need from you, what we need from each other, and you know it.”
“I promised him,” he says, his voice so low I can barely hear it. “I promised I’d look after you. His dying words were “take care of Layla,” and that’s what I’ve been trying to do. But I fucked up.”
I suck in a quick breath, all the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. “You took his words to mean that you’d step into the role of my father?”
He nods, and I shake my head. I place my hand on his cheek and he leans into it, his eyes a mix of blue and green, like the ocean stirred up in a summer storm.
“Jack, he knew how we felt about each other. Everyone did.”
His nostrils fare, and he stiffens. “How do you know that?”
“My mother told me. Tonight.”
He looks down. “Shit.”
“Don’t you see? Dad knew how we felt about each other. I think you might have misinterpreted what he meant.”
“You do?”
“I really do, Jack. He wanted us to be together. I’m sure of it. He loved you, Jack, and while he couldn’t really show me affection as a father, he knew you could as my lover.”
“I want to believe that. Fuck, you have no idea how much I want to believe that.”
“Then believe it.” I put my hand over my heart. “In here I know it.”
He pulls me to him, places the softest kiss onto my mouth, a kiss imbued with so much passion and tenderness my heart pinches. When he inches back he says, “I don’t think your mother will be too happy.”
I nod. “I know. She told me she slept with you last week, that you were hers, and I was stupid to think you’d want a silly girl like me.”
Anger flashes in his eyes. “You don’t believe that, do you?”
I look away. I believe he didn’t sleep with my mother; he’s not that kind of man, but there was a point where I was confused as to why he walked away. Now I realize it was because of the vow he made to Dad, not because I was a silly girl who couldn’t please him.
“I don’t believe it.”
“I hate the way she treats you. She’s not your responsibility, Layla.”
“I know. Just like I’m not your responsibility.”
“Yeah, you fucking are.” I’m about to open my mouth to straighten him out when he presses his finger to my lips and grins. “Just not in a parental way.” He goes quiet for a moment, then adds, “Layla, I need to tell you something.”
Unease moves through me. “What?”
“I’m sorry for running out on you last week. It’s just that…your…I took your virginity…”
“I saved myself for you, Jack. I always wanted you to be my first.”
He swallows and I hear his throat work. “I can’t believe you did that. It means so much to me, but I feet like a jerk for taking you the way I did. Fuck, I should have made it better for you.”
“It was perfect,” I say.
He shakes his head. “No, let me show you perfect.” He picks me up and my heart fills with all the love I feel for him. I wrap my arms around him as he guides me to his bedroom and sets me down gently. He falls over me, his mouth on mine, kissing deeply, gently, tasting the depths of me like he can’t get enough.
He shifts to the side and his hand move with purpose, shaping my curves and reacquainting himself with my body as he touches me all over, until I’m a quivering mess beneath him. I want to ask him to hurry, to strip me of my clothes and just take me, but from the look in his eyes to his unhurried touch, I take it he has other ideas. So instead, I let loose a soft moan, and hand myself over to him again, his to do with as he pleases.
He looks at me pointedly. “You are mine,” he whispers.
“I know,” I say as I give myself to him, knowing I am in the most gentle, caring hands possible.
He unbuttons my shirt; his fingers are big but skilled as he pushes the small buttons through the holes and spread the material. He exhales sharply, and his eyes narrow as he takes in my bra. He strokes me, from my throat, between my breasts, straight to my belly.
“I’m the luckiest fucking man alive,” he says and it thrills me.
I’m about to tell him I feel the same way when he tugs my bra cups down, and presses his mouth to my nipple. He gives a long slow swipe with his tongue and my back comes off the bed.
“Oh, Jack,” I say, breathing past the sensory overload.
With exquisite gentleness, he takes my nipple into his mouth, savoring it as he laves me softly. His groans of excitement are just about them most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard. I love what I do to him, the way he wants me.
His cock presses against my leg, his voice a sexy command when he says, “Lift your hips.” I do as he says and he unbuttons my pants and inches them down, until my pubic is exposed. He goes to his heels, and sits between my legs, just staring at my sex, a goofy grin on his face that pulls a chuckle from me. He’s like a kid on Christmas morning and I love it. I love him. He finally sheds my pants and panties, and I’m left there with nothing but an open shirt and bra on, the cup pulled down.
“You’re way too overdressed,” I whisper and reach for him. He takes my hand and presses a soft kiss to it.
“So are you. I need you completely naked, Layla.” He gives a little tug on my hand until I’m in a sitting position on the bed, and he pushes my blouse from my shoulder. Big fingers slide around my back and with one easy flick, he unhooks my bra and it falls.
“Now you,” I
say.
He nods, climbs to his feet and sheds his clothes so fast my head is spinning. I take a long time to take in his beautiful body, his hard cock. I throw my legs over the bed, and touch him. He growls, but doesn’t stop me when I lean in and lick the pre-cum pooling on his crown.
“Fuck,” he murmured, and it urges me on.
I shift closer and take him to the back of my throat, the way I’ve always dreamed of doing. He swells beneath my stroking tongue, and I choke a little as I try to take him even deeper. He grips my hair, wraps it around his hand and jerks his hips forward, feeding me his beautiful cock as I fuck him with my mouth. Soon his sounds become urgent and while I want him to fill my mouth, let me drink all of him in, he seems to have other ideas. He pulls out, gives my shoulders a little nudge and I fall onto the bed, my hair splaying across his bedding.
“Climb to the middle and open your legs for me.”
I do as he asks and can’t believe how open and exposed I feel, but I also feel so loved and cherished as he gazes at me, raw hunger in his eyes.
“Please…” I murmur and he crawls up my body. I breathe in the clean smell of his soap as we trade wet, heated kisses. He slips a hand between our bodies, and slides a thick finger inside me. A moan catches in my throat and my entire body quivers. He works his finger in and out of me until my breath is coming in jagged bursts. His palm presses against my clit and I let go, coming all over his hand. He growls, pulls his fingers out and takes them into his mouth.
“So fucking sweet,” he murmurs as he licks himself clean. His eyes fix on my face. “I need to fuck you. Tell me you need that.”
“I need that, Jack. I need you. I have for so long now.”
“I’ll get protection.” He makes a move to go and I stop him, holding him tight so he can’t budge. His eyes grow uneasy. Is he worried I’m having second thoughts?
“No condom,” I say, giving a hard shake to my head.
“Layla—”
“I want to feel you, Jack. No barriers. I’m on the pill. Even if I wasn’t, I’d still want you this way.”
“Are you saying you want…” He blinks, a barrage of happy emotions playing in his eyes.
“Yes, I’m saying I want a family with you.”
He makes a choking sound. “I want that too, Layla,” he whispers, his voice broken, fractured. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“You’ll be the best dad,” I say.
“I will. I promise you that.”
As my heart soars, he positions his cock between my legs.
“Take me, Jack. Take all of me. Own me.”
He throws his head back and pitches his hips forward, filling me to the hilt as he takes ownership of my body and my needs. My sex flutters and pleasure gathers in my core as he pounds into me, hot hard strokes that take me to the precipice a second time. My body is so full of him, and my heart is so swollen, bursting with the things I feel for this man, I fear I might black out. But no way would I want to miss a second of his lovemaking. I touch his back as he drives into me, a maddening pace. His skin is warm and damp with passion as I pull him to me and run my nails over his back.
I wrap my legs around him and take him impossibly deeper. He gives a needy, not quite satisfied sigh as my lips find his for a kiss so keep and sensual, it pulls another orgasm from my body. Ecstasy flutters through me. “Yes,” I cry out, the happiest girl in the world. As I hold him, I’m sure nothing or no one is ever going to take that from me.
He groans low in his throat and I feel his cock thicken more. He buries his face in the hollow of my throat, his breath scalding my skin as he growls and lets go, depleting his seed high inside me. I squeeze around him, not wanting to lose a single drop.
I pull in a breath as he collapses on top of me, squeezing the air from my lungs. But I don’t much care. I love the way he feels on top of me.
* * *
I hold him tight and exhale as my last tremor races through. He lifts his head, smiles at me, and pushes back my damp bangs.
“You are incredible,” he says.
I draw a contented breath as he rolls to his back and pulls me with him. I burrow closer and his arm tightens around me as he shifts and pulls me against his chest. There is no doubt that this was the most satisfying night of my life, with many more to come, I’m sure. As I think about that, a measure of unease trickles through my blood. I’ll have to soon tell my mother, and I just pray Jack doesn’t let guilt rule and allow her to come between us. Now that we’ve reconnected, there is no way I could survive if he walked out of my life for another six long years.
6
Jack
After giving Layla a key to my place and kissing her goodbye, with the promise of seeing her after my long twelve-hour shift today, I go in search of my phone. Shit, I’d tossed it on my kitchen counter last night, now it’s nowhere to be found. First my key and now my phone. What the fuck? I search the house and find it on the coffee table. Maybe Layla had picked it up, thinking it was hers, and set it down in a different spot.
I pick it up and shove it into my pocket as I make my way to my closet. There is a new lightness about me this morning as I dress for work, and I know it has everything to do with letting go of the guilt. Last night was so freeing, knowing I can finally be with Layla, be the man she needs me to be.
I dress, shave and then hop into my truck and drive to work. When I get there I see Garrett, and he has a worried look on his face. My stomach coils. “What’s up?” I ask.
His eyes narrow and he looks me over. “You okay, man?” he asks.
I look around the precinct, my mind racking as I take it all in. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Karen was at the bar last night. She was pretty drunk, and mean. I wanted to drive her home, but she insisted on calling Layla.” He shakes his head and scrubs the scruff on his chin. “The shit she does to that girl. It’s a goddamn crime and Layla deserves better. Anyway, I stayed until Layla showed up and heard Karen tell her that she slept with you.”
I nod, a knot tightening in my stomach. Thank God, Layla believed me, especially after the way I stupidly ran out on her that night. Jesus, she really is an amazing girl, and doesn’t deserve the shit her mother puts her through. Maybe Layla really was right about Phil’s dying words, maybe Phil was telling me to be with her. Fuck knows he was a bad dad, and maybe this was his way of finally making things right.
“Yeah, I know, Layla told me.”
Garrett looks over my shoulder, and leans in to me, his voice lower when he says, “This worries me man.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “Everything is fine. Layla and I worked it all out. We’re finally together and happy.”
“Karen is a bit crazy, man. She strikes me as the kind of girl who gets what she wants and when she doesn’t…well, let me put it to you this way, if she can’t have you, then no one else can.”
I stiffen. “You don’t think she’d do anything to hurt Layla, do you?”
“I don’t know, pal. But I worry about her, and you.” He does another glance around the precinct. “Does she have anything on you?”
I know what he’s asking. Did I ever touch Layla when she was underage?
“Nothing,” I say. Well, not technically, anyway. I didn’t ‘touch’ Layla, but she did bring herself to orgasm on my leg years ago. But no way in hell could Karen know that, right?
Worry snakes it way through me, and I head to my desk to take care of some paperwork. The day crawls by at a snail’s pace, probably because I’m worried about Layla’s safety and her mother’s state of mind. If she knew I was with Layla intimately, what would she do? I’m a cop, and I’ve seen some pretty bad fucking domestic shit over the years, nasty disputes that stem from jealousy, and it’s not pretty. It’s an hour from quitting time, but I step in to the Captain’s office, and tell him I have to check out early. He’s a good guy, and I mostly work eighteen-hour days, so he nods and sends me on my way.
I jump into my truck, needing to
check on Layla. There’s a desperation racing through my blood when I get to her place and find it empty. I shoot her a text, wait a second, then she comes back with, “I don’t think we should see each other any more. Know this is for the best, and this is what I want. Please don’t contact me again.”
My heart falls into my stomach. What the fuck? No way. No way would she send me this text after last night. We’re connected on the deepest level possible, have a bond that is unbreakable. Something is wrong. I feel it deep in my gut, and my gut never usually lies to me.
I rush back outside, and head for my place. Maybe she’s there and she’s just kidding with me. If not, I need to scour the streets, check every one of her favorite hangout places and talk to her best friend Lu to see if she knows anything.
I tap my brakes when I pull into my driveway and see her car. My heart settles. She was kidding with me. Thank fuck, but too bad I don’t find anything about this situation funny. I plan to put her over my knee and show her just how not funny it is. I just got her back into my life and that text scared the fucking shit out of me.
I jump from the truck and hurry inside. “Layla,” I call out, but when I don’t hear her voice, my heart goes into my throat. As a cop I always think the worst and this time I force myself not to. If anything happened to her…I stop that train of thought, unable to finish it. She’s probably lying in my bed waiting to surprise me, yeah that’s it.
It has to be it.
I rush to my bedroom and catch Layla standing at the foot of my bed. I’m about to let loose a relived breath when my gaze wanders, and that breath relieved turns into an angry growl when I see who is in my bed.
“It’s not what you think,” I say, and Layla spins to see me. The look of horror on her face nearly brings me to my knees. Oh Jesus Christ, if she doesn’t believe me…
“Layla,” I say and reach for her. I pull her in, and she lets me, but her body is cold, and so stiff. I hug her. She doesn’t hug back. Instead she wobbles and I look over her shoulder and catch Karen’s smirk.
“You’re back early,” Karen says. “I wasn’t expecting you so early. I wasn’t expecting Layla to show up either. But now that’s she’s here, I guess it’s not a bad thing. She was eventually going to find out about us. Sooner is better than later, don’t you think?”