She is fucking stunning.
“You sure about that?” she whispers in a challenge.
I reach up and pluck at her nipple through the lace of her bra.
“Oh, how the tables have turned.” I grin as her head falls back and she whimpers.
I pluck again and she rocks her hot pussy into me and bites her bottom lip. “Please …” she moans, already knowing what it does to me when she begs.
Fucking Christ.
It takes every single stitch of restraint I possess to stop myself from fucking her. But I meant what I said. I want her to remember everything. I want to look into her eyes while I claim her and she screams my name for the first time, and I can’t do that when she’s drunk like this.
“You want me, Layla?” I ask her. “You want me to take this tight pussy for my own right now?”
“Yes,” she whispers, grinding into me. “God, yes.”
I still her hips with my hands.
“Then you can fucking tell me that when you’re sober.”
She blinks. “What?” she asks breathlessly as I lift her off me. My petty side loves this payback for her making me come in my pants in the middle of the clubhouse dance floor.
She climbs right back into my lap.Persistent little brat.Her face is knotted in confusion as she grips mine in her hands.
“You said when I begged you, and I’m begging.Fuck me,” she orders.
I bring her lips down to mine. I bite her plush bottom one. She winces.
“Go to fucking bed, Layla,” I say gruffly, lifting her off meone more time. I hand her shirt back to her, looking her dead in her pretty whiskey eyes. She just stands in front of me, her chest rising and falling rapidly, shocked I’m not giving her what she wants.
Then she lets out a little huff and takes her tank from my waiting hand. She’s all piss and vinegar because I turned her down, and even that makes me smile.
Another discovery. She’s fucking adorable when she’s angry.
She turns on her heel and heads down the hall to her bedroom.
“I wasn’t going to fuck you anyway, Sean Hunter,” she calls out. I scrub my face with my hand as I chuckle into it. I look down at my rock-hard dick and shake my head.
The sound of Layla opening and closing drawers in her bedroom tells me she’s trying to get ready for bed as I pick up her purse and hang it on the hook on the wall in her kitchen. I wash my hands and can’t help but make sure everything is clean and shut off. I think about how fucked it is that I’m here with her,notfucking her, because I care about her being clear-headed in that moment.
I analyze why, and the only thing I can come up with is that I want her to remember it more than I care about fucking her.
I hang the dish towel up, folded neatly in half, and look around. Everything is in order and it’s quiet now at the end of the hall.
I pour her a glass of water and walk down the hall, and when I reach her bedroom I pause in the doorway for a moment, just watching. She’s already in bed, face down, wearing a fresh tanktop but she still has on her shorts. She’s passed out cold. I scrub my face with my hand, and set the water down on her bedside table. I can’t just leave her like this.
I make my way to the bathroom and run a facecloth under warm water, then return to her room. I sit down on the edge of her bed and pause, watching her sleep, pushing a lock of hair out of her face as she stirs slightly and hums the sweetest sound.
“I don’t want … to be alone,” she mumbles.
“Just be a good girl, Layla, and get some sleep.” I take the opportunity to roll her onto her side and I start to wash her face. She sighs as I gently wipe, pushing her long hair off her shoulder and washing there too. It was hot as fuck in that clubhouse tonight and she’ll want to feel clean when she wakes up. When I’m done cleaning her up, I undo her shorts and pull them from her body. All her silky skin comes into view and I’m instantly hard again, but she’s snoring softly and doesn’t even flinch when I tuck her into bed. The thought of any other man doing this for her sends my blood racing. I push that thought away because it’s never going to happen.
Pulling her robe down from the hook on the back of her door, I drape it over the end of the bed and push her slippers to the side so they’ll be there when she wakes up.
I look down at her, sleeping soundly. I’m rock hard and out of my mind for her.
This woman is gonna be the fucking death of me.
