Page 16 of Labor of Love

The steady rhythm of the song has my pulse in sync with it, each second feeling longer than the last, heightening Layla’s body cues. Her chest expands with each breath. Her eyes draw me in, mouth parting to create that little gap. Layla’s tongue moistens her lips before her teeth gently tug the bottom. It has the same effect it did before years passed. With her looking at me like this, I’m fucking gone.

“You tell me, Layla.” She places her hand on my bicep, the hazy look in her eyes roping me in. It’s all the approval I need.

I close the breath of space between us, my body recognizing her like the time between was but a second. Her soft lips are hesitant, almost nervous because this kiss could ruin her if we crash. I won’t let that happen.

I pull her closer, gripping her hips, and her legs uncross. Layla digs her heels into my back as my thighs hit the counter. There’s my girl—taking what she wants. She moans and wraps her arms around my neck, deepening the kiss. My hand slides into her hair, making a fist, not wanting to let go. She echoes a whimper in my mouth; a primal grunt travels through my throat. I’m about to lose control.

As quick as this kiss happened, her lips tighten, breaking it. Layla slides her hands down my chest and pushes, slowly creating distance.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the morning we woke in the Suburban.” My forehead rests against hers as I catch my breath.

“We...we could ruin everything.” She looks down, her hands magnetized to my chest. “I can’t lose you twice.”

Please look at me.

I can’t be just friends with her. Not after tasting her lips and feeling her warmth hug my cock.

“Layla, how I feel is real.” Her face cradles perfectly in my hands. “I’m all in, sweet girl.”

“You just got home. It’s happening too fast, Stetson.” Layla’s touch vacates my body. “I need to get back to work.” Fuck. She scoots toward her canvas and picks up a brush.

“You’ve got a busy day at the market.” Her head tilts, eyes finding my lips again. “I’ll let you be.” For now.

Hot air stifles around me, debating whether to walk back to the ranch as punishment for getting hammered.

“Stetson, wait!” Layla trots down the side steps from her apartment above the shop, her pebbled nipples peeking through her tank top holding my attention. Fuck, I want to bite them. “I’ll give you a ride home.” She stops in front of a corolla almost as old as her.

“You said you’d never buy a Toyota.” I tease. She claimed to be a Chev girl through and through even before getting her license.

“Not all of us can make millions in eight seconds. This car was in my price range.”

“I’ll have to change that.” She gives me a pointed look, shaking her head no.

“I worked hard for this, and it’s mine.”

We head down the street, the radio quietly playing.

“Kissing you was the last thing I expected.” Layla stops, taking her hands off the wheel before turning into my long driveway. “I want to do it again.” She pauses and I nod, encouraging her to finish her thoughts, “but everything with you, and the intimacy between us...” I take a deep breath, hoping she mimics the action. She does. “It gives me anxiety.”

“Understandable, sweet girl.”

“Let’s…see how it plays out.” My hand rests on her thigh as she bites back her smirk.

“I’m down for playing.” A sense of accomplishment warms me when my deep tone has her pressing those pretty little legs together.

“You need to go home, mister.” Gravel crunches under the tires as she continues driving.

My mom smiles, waving from the porch as we pull up. Their biweekly dinners with Layla never changed in the time I was on the road.

“What do you think she’s got in her head about this?”

“She’ll think we hung out like we used to.” Layla shrugs, keeping her gaze on my mother. “You’re gonna tell her you got drunk and passed out on my couch.”

“Will we see you for dinner this week?”

Keeping my eyes, or hands off her the entire dinner will be my biggest challenge.

“We shall see.” She shoos me. “Go clean up because you reek of alcohol.”