“Stop it, Simon!” She laughs, trying to get away from me.
“Take it back.”
“Fine! Fine! I couldn’t handle it. Your penis broke me.”
“It broke you?” That gets me to stop. I feel like a caveman wanting to beat my chest in pride.
Layla leans back, the front of her robe falling to the side. It causes me to lose focus. Her nipples are hard through her bra, and it makes me want to suck them into my mouth.
“You’d like to think it did, wouldn’t you?” A playful smile crosses her face. “I would not mind doing more of last night.”
“Good.” I trail a path of kisses up her neck. “Because I have not had my fill of you.”
I don’t know if I ever will.
There’s something about Layla that draws me to her. There’s a quiet strength to her that I think most people don’t realize. I don’t know if it’s because of her divorce, but it is clear she doesn’t want to rely on anyone.
I want to be that person for her. Even though my time here is limited, I want her to be able to depend on me. To let me help her carry her load from time to time. She does so much for everyone around her, that I want to help her anyway I can.
God knows she needs it with the people in this town.
“You have to stop doing that,” Layla moans, tilting her head to the side.
“Why’s that, love?” I pull her closer to me, letting her feel exactly what she’s doing to me.
“Because we can’t have sex down here.”
The table with her sewing machine is clean except for the fabric she is currently sewing.
“I don’t know. This looks fairly sturdy to me.”
Layla pushes me off her. “You want a needle in the ass?”
“Are you serious?” A shudder racks my body.
“It wouldn’t be fun.”
“Does that mean you’ve had a needle in your arse?”
“No. But I don’t want to try and find one to see what it feels like.” Layla sets what she’s working on to the side. “So why don’t we go back upstairs and you can have your way with me there?”
“I have a question for you first.”
Layla crosses one leg over the other. “Yes?”
“Can I take you out?”
“What, like a date?”
“Typically when a man takes a woman out, yes, that would mean a date.”
She looks confused. “But we’ve already gone out on a date.”
“Does it really count when we did it to be seen?”
Nerves coil in my gut.Why am I so nervous about her answer?
“A real date then?”
