Authors: Kristen Ashley
Tags: #Romance, #private detective, #contemporary romance, #crime
“Got a source that says she’s hands on,”
Layne told him.
“Don’t know what to say, Tanner. We can pull
her in on identity theft and hold Jeremy Goulding over her but
she’s gonna have to roll over we do that and what I’ve read and
what IMPD know, this bitch is made of steel. We’re not gonna break
her. We need evidence. You said your man didn’t find the photo
shoot photos at her apartment?”
“Dev found nothing. He had a good amount of
time to look and it was clean so he planted the bugs and got
out.”
“Even if he found ‘em, not against the law
to take pictures of teenaged girls. It’s not cool but we got
nothin’ messy to stick to her.”
“Jeremy bought us a few more days,” Layne
told him. “Heard it when I was listenin’ this morning.”
“Well, let’s hope she fucks up before he
cracks. Read up on him too. Small time con, not too bright, stupid
recruit for her but maybe not, since she’s made him nearly the sole
face of this shit so he’s also the perfect fall guy. It’s a miracle
he hasn’t disintegrated before now.”
That was precisely what Layne was worried
about.
Colt’s voice dropped lower. “This shit moves
a lot faster, your source comes out in the open.”
“I told you, I told Merry, that can’t
happen,” Layne replied just as low.
“Tanner –”
“We still have no evidence, we don’t have
the location of her stable, we don’t have a lock on her army and we
don’t have anything to connect her to Rutledge except the word of a
small time con and whatever the fuck Ryker is and Ryker only saw
Rutledge visit the apartment once. My girl would be swinging in the
wind and, trust me, brother, you’d never hold Towers on the word of
my source and without any evidence, she wouldn’t even go to trial.
We need patience.”
“We don’t need patience, Tanner, we need
time and I’m guessin’ a coupla days isn’t gonna get us shit.
Goulding is gonna cave and she’s gonna bolt.”
“You got any bright ideas?” Layne asked.
“Only one I got is not bright, it makes my
teeth hurt and leaves a bad taste in my mouth,” Colt answered.
“Set up one of the girls,” Layne
muttered.
“Not gonna happen,” Colt muttered back.
They shared unhappy silence until Layne
broke it. “Patience.”
“Prayer,” Colt returned. “They used God,
let’s hope He feels motivated to lend us a hand.”
“I’ll get Vera on that,” Layne offered.
“Yeah,” Colt replied, one side of his mouth
up in half a grin.
Layne opened the door and walked out.
Colt followed.
Layne nodded to men he knew as he walked
through the bullpen on his way to the backstairs. He pulled out his
cell as he jogged down the stairs and was out the door and nearing
the Mercedes when Rocky picked up his call.
“Hey sweetheart,” she answered.
“Hey baby, where are you?”
She’d called and told him that Spike had
relieved her, she’d gone down to Mimi’s, ran into Feb and since she
was rideless and Layne was busy, she and Feb were going to
hang.
“At Vi’s. Where are you?”
“On my way to Vi’s,” he replied, folding
into her car.
He heard her soft laugh then it went away
and she asked, “Everything okay?”
“It will be.”
A pause and then, “That’s not a great
answer, Layne.”
“Best I can do for now, sweetcheeks. I’ll
brief you when we get home. Is it your house or mine tonight?”
“Mine,” she replied immediately.
“You don’t like the toothbrush Jas bought
you?”
She burst out laughing and Layne listened to
it thinking Rocky’s laughter made a day of good and bad turn mostly
good again.
When she got it under control, she answered,
“No. My house doesn’t have Devin and Vera in it.”
Oh shit.
“I thought you and Mom were cool.”
There was nothing for a few beats and then
he knew why when she spoke quietly. She’d been looking for
privacy.
“Vera and I
are
cool. But not so cool
I suspect she’ll be happy to hear her son making me moan and I
enjoy you, baby, but I don’t want to court suffocation every time
we have sex.”
This meant Layne was going to get him some
that night. This wasn’t surprising, eighteen years had done nothing
to shear even a layer off Roc’s sexual appetite, or Layne’s. But
that didn’t mean the promise of it didn’t feel fucking great.
Shit, it was almost over but the day kept
getting better.
“Good call,” Layne muttered and twisted the
key in the ignition.
“See you soon,” she replied.
“Absolutely.”
Layne flipped his phone shut, put the
Mercedes in gear and backed out of his parking spot.
Then he flipped his phone open, scrolled
down to Jasper’s number and told his son just enough so his boy
would sleep in peace that night.
The Man You Would Become
Monday, 5:12 a.m.
“Layne,” Rocky breathed, one of her hands in
his hair, cupping the back of his head tight, one of her arms
caught under his body, her fingers curled into his ass.
“That’s it, baby,” Layne whispered, watching
her face in the shadows as his fingers toyed with intent in the
wetness between her legs.
“Oh God,” she breathed, her back arching,
she was close.
“Give it to me, Rocky,” he ordered.
Her fingers clenched his ass.
“Come inside,” she begged.
“After you come.”
“Now, baby, please,” she whispered.
“After.”
Her hips ground into his hand. “I want your
cock.”
“You’ll get it.”
“Oh God.”
“That’s it.”
“God, Layne.”
“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, dropped his
head, took her nipple between his lips and pulled hard.
That did it, her back left the bed and a
ragged moan tore from her throat.
Layne’s fingers left her pussy, he rolled
over her, her legs spread wide for him even as she was coming and
his fucking cell phone rang.
“No,” she whispered.
“Fuck, you gotta be fuckin’ shittin’ me,”
Layne growled, kept himself seated between her legs and reached out
for the phone.
He turned it to face him, saw what was on
the display and growled again, this time with no words.
Then he flipped it open and put it to his
ear.
“This better be fuckin’ good.” He was still
growling.
Rocky lifted her knees, pressed her thighs
against his sides as her arms wound around his back, the tip of his
cock slid through her wetness and Layne clenched his teeth.
“Did I wake you?” Sully asked.
“No,” Layne grunted.
Silence then, “Oh.”
“Sully,” Layne rumbled.
“Right, okay, well, thought you’d want to
know. Adrian Cosgrove is incarcerated. Chris Renicki and Marty Fink
found him about two hours ago. He had enough Rohypnol on him to
roofie the entire junior class. Possession of an illegal substance,
conspiracy to commit a felony, violating his bond agreement –”
Layne cut him off. “I get it, he’s
fucked.”
“He’s fucked,” Sully confirmed.
“Good. Can I go now?” Layne asked with only
an edge of patience.
Layne heard Sully chuckle and he again
clenched his teeth.
“Yep,” Sully answered.
Layne flipped his phone shut, tossed it on
the bed and bent his head toward Rocky.
“Is everything –?” she started.
“Fine,” Layne gritted then he drove his cock
into her and her back left the bed again as a mew slid out of her
throat.
Jesus. Heaven. All of it.
Then he bent his head further and kissed his
woman at the same time he fucked her.
Hard.
* * * * *
Monday, 6:21 a.m.
Layne laid on his back in bed, his head
resting on his hands, and listened to Rocky in her bathroom.
His mind wasn’t on the sweet orgasm he’d had
or the one he’d given her. It also wasn’t on the noises coming from
the bathroom. It further wasn’t on the million and freaking three
things he had going on in his life.
His mind was on walking into Vi and Cal’s
house and seeing Raquel sitting cross-legged on the floor with Vi
and Cal’s baby daughter Angela bouncing on her little feet in
Rocky’s lap. Rocky was holding Angela’s little hands and laughing
in Angela’s giggling face.
Back in the day, they’d planned to have
three kids. They were both agreed on that, it was definite. Three.
Layne had no siblings, he’d always wanted one and he’d wanted one
more seeing how Roc was with her brother. Rocky had a brother and
she loved him so she would have been happy to have another brother
or a sister, she didn’t care. Family meant everything to her, the
bigger, the better. So they decided three, definitely three.
He had two.
Rocky had none.
Rocky walked out of the bathroom carrying a
mug of coffee, her hair up in a twist at the back and she was
wearing a dark green set of underwear, satin with a hint of dark
gray lace. Layne had learned this meant she was wearing green
somewhere on her body that day. Rocky had a lot of underwear in a
lot of colors and she matched it to her outfits. This, too, was new
and this, too, Layne liked. He liked it because, even if he didn’t
see her dress, he could make a fair guess at what she was wearing
under her clothes.
And he liked that a lot.
“Baby, come here,” he called and she looked
his way.
“I have to get to work, sweetheart.”
“Come here,” he repeated, she stopped in the
doorway to her closet, stared at him a second and walked to
him.
When she got close, Layne did an ab curl,
grabbed one of her wrists and took the mug of coffee from her other
hand. He set it on the nightstand then, with a tug on her wrist, he
laid back down and Rocky hit him full frontal.
“Layne!”
His arms moved around her, trapping her.
“I have to get to work,” she repeated.
“I know but I have to ask you
something.”
She stopped pressing back when she paid
attention to his face.
Then she whispered, “What?”
“You want kids?” Layne asked, straight
out.
Her body jerked then she repeated, “What?”
but it was breathy this time.
“You want kids?”
“I… um…” she stammered then her eyes slid to
the pillow beside his head.
“Eyes to me, Roc,” he ordered and her eyes
shot back.
“Yes,” she answered, that one word quick,
forced out and openly scared. He knew this because she barely
hissed out the “s” before her body braced.
He grinned at her and whispered, “Good,
baby, how many you want? Two, three?”
She stared in his eyes, her body still, her
eyes getting bright and her nostrils quivered. She was going to cry
and to fight it back, she served up attitude.
“What?” she whispered back, “Are you growing
an army?”
Layne laughed, rolled her to her back,
rolled right on top of her and buried his face in her neck.
“You didn’t answer,” he said into her
neck.
“Layne, you’re messing up my hair.”
He lifted his head. “Sweetcheeks, answer my
question.”
She glared at him, pure bullshit, he could
see she was happy and his chest squeezed at the sight.
“One, if it’s a boy. If it’s a girl, two but
only with the hopes of having another girl.”
“Evening out the numbers?”
“No.”
Layne’s brows went up. “You don’t like
boys?”
“Little boy clothes aren’t as cute as little
girl clothes.”
Layne stared at her and saw she was being
serious, basing her desire of what gender child she wanted to have
on shopping.
Then he muttered, “Jesus.”
“They aren’t,” Rocky defended.
“Girls means I’ve got Cal’s headaches and
gotta pray every night they meet a boy like Jas, when Jas is into
them, that is. Boys you just give condoms.”
Her body locked under his and she snapped,
“Layne!”
“It’s true.”
“Boys means I have to hope they don’t pay a
lot of attention to their badass Dad and don’t want a career where
they sleep with a gun under their pillow.”
He grinned. “You caught that?”
“Hard to miss when I put your pajamas on it,
Layne.”
His voice softened when he assured her,
“It’s just a precaution.”
“Against your enemies or the pissed off
fathers of Jasper’s pre-Keira escapades?”
He grinned again. “You caught that too?”
“Kids talk and, by the way, that’s reason
two, no boys.”
“Why?”
“How many more reasons do you want?” she
asked.
“Twelve,” he answered.
“A girl…” she stopped, her eyes unfocused
and her body got tight and when she spoke again he knew into his
soul, it wasn’t to him. “A girl I can teach, I can tell her things,
I can show her the way, I can explain the stuff that will happen in
her life.” Her eyes refocused and her body relaxed under his. “A
girl I can give all that my Mom never got the chance to give
me.”
“Girls it is then,” Layne whispered
instantly and he watched Rocky blink, her face startled before that
surprise died, hope filled the space it left and she smiled.
“Is that a guarantee, Tanner Layne?” she
whispered back.
“Nope, but I’ll see what I can do.”
Her hand came to his jaw, her thumb sweeping
his cheek then his lips before it slid across to wrap around his
chin, she lifted up and touched her mouth to his.
She dropped her head back to the bed and
whispered, “I have to get to work, baby.”
“Yeah,” he replied then dropped his head to
kiss her and he did it a lot harder and a lot longer and Layne’s
kiss was wet.
Then he rolled off her, watched her roll off
the bed and walk to the closet.
Girls.
The first one they’d name Cecilia.
* * * * *
Tuesday, 6:53 p.m.
Layne jogged up Rocky’s steps, slid his key
in her door and walked in to soft lighting, soft music and candles
lit around the room.