Authors: Kristen Ashley
Tags: #Romance, #private detective, #contemporary romance, #crime
“Rocky –”
“I need them open, Layne.” She tried to pull
from him but he tightened his arm, sliding it around her to bring
her up against his front.
“We can’t sleep with them open, Roc, too
much exposure.”
“I need them open,” she repeated.
“Sorry, sweetcheeks, that’s not gonna
happen,” he told her, felt her body get tight, not with anger, with
something else, something that started seeping into the room,
something not good and not right.
“I need them open,” she whispered, her voice
suddenly trembling.
Layne heard it and treaded cautiously when
he reminded her, “Baby, you’ve slept with them closed the last
three nights.”
“Yes,” she was still whispering, “but you
were here.”
Layne’s body went solid at her words and
whatever was coming from Rocky started filling the room, pressing
into them and he sensed that whatever it was, she didn’t have it in
her to beat it back. Whatever it was, he needed to beat it back for
her.
“You scared of the dark?” he asked
gently.
She didn’t answer. Instead she said, “I need
the light.”
“You scared of the dark, Rocky?”
“I need the light,” she repeated, now her
body was trembling.
“You weren’t scared of the dark twenty years
ago, honey.”
“No, I wasn’t,” she whispered again.
“Because
you
were there.”
Fucking hell.
His hands went to the sides of her head and
he turned her, moving her backward toward the bed.
“What scares you?” he asked, she didn’t
answer except to shake her head in his hands. “What scares you,
baby?” No answer, her legs hit bed and he stopped, thinking he knew
so he explained, “Tonight wasn’t dangerous, Rocky.” She tried to
look away but he kept her head tipped toward him and his face got
close to hers. “It wasn’t dangerous and I had backup.”
She lifted her hands and curled them around
his wrists, whispering, “Layne.”
“I’m good at what I do,” he told her and she
shook her head in his hands again so he gave her a gentle squeeze
and moved even closer. “Swear, I’m good at what I do.”
She stared in his eyes through the dark and,
suddenly, she lifted up on her toes half an inch and her mouth was
on his.
He didn’t know what was happening with her
and it more than concerned him but, even so, Layne didn’t hesitate.
He accepted her invitation by slanting his head to the side, his
hands moved from her head to her waist, curling around her back,
trapping her in his arms and he kissed her.
After all those dreams, Layne was ready for
what was about to happen and had been ready for a long fucking time
and Rocky showed him she felt the same. She gave with her mouth and
took with her hands. Greedy, hungry, she was all over him, pressing
into him, communicating need.
He understood her need, her need was in his
blood, blood that was now coursing through his body and making his
cock hard.
He put his hands to her pits and lifted her
up high, his mouth disengaging from hers, he growled, “Knees,” and
she knew what he was saying. She kicked her calves back and he set
her on her knees in the bed.
His hands went to the hem of his tee and he
nearly growled again when, without delay, her arms went straight up
to help him. He yanked off the tee, tossed it aside and one hand
went to the middle of her back, pushing in and up, arching her
back, he bent and used his other hand to lift her breast, he took
it with his mouth and sucked deep.
Her fingers slid into his hair and she
moaned, arching her back further, holding him fast. He pulled hard
then swirled with his tongue, pulled hard again and then moved to
the other side to do the same. When he was done, she was clenching
his hair in her fists and she pulled him up, his mouth to hers and
he took it, the kiss deeper, wilder, out-of-control as she pressed
her bared tits tight to his chest and one of her hands went into
his pajamas to curl into his ass, the other one went in the front
to wrap around his hard cock and she pulled him to her.
Christ, she was primed already.
He tore his mouth from hers and she stroked
his cock before gently tugging him toward her again and he shook
his head. “Unh-unh, baby, I’m hungry.”
He listened to her breath catch and he knew
she remembered. He’d say that to her when he wanted to go down on
her, whenever he wanted to go down on her. He’d walk up behind her
as she was doing the dishes, he’d whisper it in her ear when she
was curled into him on the couch, when he’d wake her up in the
middle of the night or when he woke up in the morning wanting the
taste of her. It got to the point if he said it because he was
hungry for food, her eyes would go half-mast, her mouth would get
soft and he knew what she was thinking and would have to fight
against going hard.
And she knew now and he knew she knew
because she let him go and moved to her back. He moved in, sliding
his fingers into her panties, he yanked them roughly down her legs
and tossed them aside. She pulled herself up on the bed and was
opening her legs before he got a knee to the mattress.
She wanted it, his Rocky, fuck, she was
magnificent.
Hands to the soft skin of her inner thighs,
he spread her wider and put his mouth to her. Her hips jerked and
she gave him another mew. That coupled with the taste of her,
having it back after so long meant he didn’t go slow, he didn’t
take it easy, he just took. Her feet went into the bed and she
lifted her hips to offer more, rubbing herself against him.
Christ, amazing.
He took and she gave and he listened as her
excitement increased, became feverish, his cock so hard it was
aching by the time her hands slid into his hair, her hips surged
up, she cried out and he heard and felt her come.
He left her still moaning, going up and over
her, hooking the back of her knee with one hand to pull it up as he
pulled his cock out of pajamas, guided the tip to her slick pussy
and drove in.
No, he’d been wrong,
this
was
amazing.
“Layne,” she breathed, her pussy still
convulsing with her orgasm.
“Take me, baby,” he grunted, driving in,
hard, deep, fast.
“Yes,” she whispered, lifting her other
knee, holding him tight at his sides with her thighs, her arms
wrapping around his shoulders.
He buried his face in her neck and kept
driving. “Christ, you feel beautiful.”
“Baby,” she gasped and he heard it, fuck, he
heard it, she was going to come again.
“That’s it,” he kept thrusting, her arms
tightening around him, he pushed deeper.
“Oh my God.”
Shit, he was close, she sounded just as
close and he hoped to God she was.
He moved his lips up her throat to take her
mouth in a kiss as she took his driving cock and she panted through
his kiss then sucked his tongue deep with her orgasm.
When she did, Layne let go and joined her,
groaning into her mouth as he buried himself to the root and his
world erased of everything but his cock and Raquel and the beauty
only she could give him.
When he was done, he stayed rooted but moved
his face into her neck and listened to her heavy breathing as he
fought to control his own. He let minutes pass before, one by one,
he moved her legs so her calves were swung in and she was wrapped
all around him.
Her head turned so her lips were at his ear.
“I think that’s about as real as it gets,” she whispered.
Oh yeah, that was about as real as it got,
and about as good.
He lifted his head and grinned down at her
in the shadows. “You’re right about that, sweetcheeks.”
He felt her body tighten around him even as
she moved a hand to lay it against his jaw.
“Layne –” she started.
Oh no.
Fuck
no.
He pulled out of her, righted his pajamas
then moving off her and up. He took her with him, planting her on
her feet beside the bed. He found the tee and she stood there,
motionless, as he pulled the neck of his tee over her head and then
she finally shoved her arms through.
He put his lips to hers and whispered, “Get
cleaned up, baby.”
She remained immobile, her head tilted back
to look at him but she whispered so softly it was hard to hear,
“You remembered.”
He remembered.
He remembered she didn’t like to sleep
naked. She might fall asleep that way but she always got up and put
something on. She also liked to clean up after they were done. Even
if they’d go for a second or third round, she’d clean up after each
time. Sometimes he’d do it for her.
Yes, he remembered. He remembered
everything.
And she should know that.
His fingers curled around her neck and he
put his forehead to hers before sharing, “I remember, Rocky. I
remember everything. I remember every…
fucking…
thing.”
Her fingers curved into his at her neck and
she breathed, “Layne –”
He cut her off by ordering, “Get cleaned up
and come back to me.”
“Sweetheart –”
“Go, baby, and come back to me.”
She hesitated a second before nodding, he
let her go and she moved away. He closed the curtains and got into
bed on her side. He was in the middle waiting for her when she
returned and slid in the bed then instantly moved into him.
“You want your panties?” he asked.
“Do you know where they are?” she asked
back.
“No fuckin’ clue,” he answered and heard her
soft giggle, liked it, so he slid one hand down her back, pulled up
the tee then cupped the soft, generous cheek of her ass.
“No,” she said softly when his fingers
curled into her. “I don’t think I want my panties.”
“Good,” he whispered and pulled her deeper
into his body as her arm stole under his and around his waist.
He fell silent and so did Rocky until she
called tentatively, “Layne.”
He knew by her tone where she was going.
“No, Roc,” he replied.
“Baby,” she whispered, “this was a
mistake.”
His hand tightened on her ass, his arm
tightened around her back and his voice was a rumble when he
returned, “Made a lotta mistakes in my life, didn’t know about them
until later. Sayin’ that, sweetcheeks, I know deep in my gut this
was no mistake.”
“But –”
“It wasn’t, Rocky.”
“I think –”
His hand and arm gave her a squeeze and she
stopped speaking.
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he told her.
“But Layne –”
He interrupted her. “It’s dark.”
She paused before she asked, “What?”
“It’s dark, baby, you scared?”
Silence and then a soft, “No.”
She hadn’t even noticed he closed the
curtains.
So he made his point by repeating, “This was
no mistake.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
He held her in the dark, it was late and
he’d just fucked Rocky for the first time in eighteen years. He’d
come, hard, after months of dreaming about her, each dream hot, but
having her was far,
far
hotter.
He was sated, relaxed, tired and close to
sleep when she whispered, “Layne?”
“Yeah, baby.”
He heard her hair move on the pillow before
she snuggled closer and, still whispering, said, “I’m hungry.”
Layne suddenly wasn’t tired anymore. He
rolled to his back, pulling her over him and he found her mouth
with his.
“Feel free to take as much as you like,” he
invited on a mutter against her lips, felt her lips smile then she
slowly made her way down his body and she took as much as she
liked.
Then Layne took as much as he liked.
Then Rocky got up, pulling the tee back on,
she cleaned up, came back and pinned him to the bed.
Live It with Me
Layne’s body jolted awake when the doorbell
went and kept going, a long continuous set of very annoying
peals.
What the fuck?
Rocky moved, the weight of her head coming
off his shoulder, her arm around his abs sliding to become a hand
at his gut, she went up to an elbow and, in a drowsy voice, started
to say, “What –?”
She stopped speaking because the bell
stopped and then it started right up again.
“
Fuck!
” he hissed, sliding from under
Rocky,
not
happy that his first morning waking up with Rocky
after getting back together started with the goddamned doorbell and
not
happy that his first morning waking up with Rocky after
getting back together started with the first thing he did was get
out of bed and also
not
happy the next thing he was going to
do was rip someone’s fucking throat out.
“Layne, are you expect –?” Rocky started to
ask as he rounded the bed, looking for his pajama bottoms.
She stopped again because the doorbell also
stopped again then it started right back up.
“Baby, where’d you throw my pajamas?” he
asked over the bell.
“What?” she asked back and he looked at her.
She was out of bed, standing at his side of it, her hair tousled,
looking adorably mystified as her eyes scanned the floor in the
weak light coming through the curtains. “I don’t know, um…”
Layne saw them in a fold of the comforter,
yanked them free, spied her panties also caught in the bedclothes,
freed them and tossed them to Rocky who caught them then he tugged
on his pajamas as he heard from below, “Jesus Fuckin’ Christ, keep
your goddamned pants on!”
Devin. Great.
Then he heard a loud bark.
Blondie. Even better.
Devin would probably shoot whoever was at
the door and Blondie would likely lick the wounds clean.
He moved to the bedroom doors, Rocky moving
behind him and he was three steps down the stairs when he heard a
shrieked, “
Oh my God!
Who are you? What are you doing in my
son’s house?
And why do you have a gun!?
”