A Father's Fight: Blake and Layla #2 (Fighting #5) (7 page)

Ten

Blake

Axelle went out with some friends after dinner, and after
Layla went to bed, Braeden and I decided to sit on the patio and pop the caps
on a couple more beers.

It’s been a long time since my brother and I just hung out like
this. I missed his adolescent years, only getting to see him on holidays while
I was in military school. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about what my
brother had to deal with after I left. Without The General having me around as
a punching bag, I have to believe Braeden took the majority of his wrath.

We never talk about it, but it’s pretty obvious our father keeps
my little brother on a short leash, which is upsetting. But what’s even more of
a mind-fuck is why the hell my grown ass brother doesn’t tell the man to kiss
his ass and take off.

It’s as if he lacks the confidence to stand up to the man, which
is totally my fault.

Damn, if I could make it up to him, I would.

This’ll be a good start or at least a step in the right
direction.

“Brae man, can I ask you a question?”

“What’s up?”

I keep my gaze focused on the distant mountains. “Do you have
plans tomorrow?”

I can see him staring at me from my peripheral vision. “No. Why?”

“You think you can hang with Layla for the day?”

He stares at my profile for a few seconds. “Thank fuck . . .” He
breathes out a long relieved breath. “You’re goin’.” There’s a smile in his
voice.

“Yeah, man.” I turn toward him. “I’ll go, but you have to promise
me you’ll keep an eye on my woman.”

“Got nothing else to do.” He shrugs. “Besides, I like my eyes on your
woman.”

I pin him with a scowl. “I’m serious. Don’t fuck around. It’s
important to me.”

The rational side of me knows nothing is going to happen in the
six or so hours that I’m gone, but there’s no sense in taking chances, not when
it comes to her.

“You got it, no fuckin’ around.” He drops his head back to stare
up at the sky. “Tomorrow. That’ll be perfect.”

I glare at him. “Perfect for what?”

“It’s Saturday. Dad’ll be home.” He says it as if it’s no big
thing, as if Dad and I’ll spend the afternoon watching a game and fighting over
whose team is better.

“And that’s good?”

His expression grows serious. “It is.”

“I don’t get any of this, but I swear to shit if I end up getting
ambushed by some parental dilemma I will hunt you down and beat the snot out of
you.”

I expect a smile, maybe even a laugh, but all he does is dip his
chin in understanding.

“Not gonna lie, man. This is the weirdest crap you’ve ever asked
me to do.”

“It’ll make sense soon enough, brother.” He pushes up and takes
another pull off his beer. “I’m off.”

A small grin tilts my lips. “Oh so that’s it? You got what you
want, so you’re out?” I mock pout. “I feel so used.”

“Don’t act like you care.” He moves through the open door and
into the kitchen. The sound of his empty bottle hitting the trash can filters
out from inside. “It’s been fun, but I’ve got a date with a manipulative Vegas
girl.” He throws the words over his shoulder as he passes through the living
room.

I don’t walk him out, but stay with my ass planted on my patio.
“Use a rubber!”

“Idiot,” he mumbles just before I hear the front door open and
close.

Shit . . . I’m going back to Orange County tomorrow. I didn’t
tell my brother that I already booked my flight, just in case I changed my mind.

But it’s done now. I just hope I don’t regret it.

After I suck down the last of my beer, I head to bed and find
Layla sitting up, her back against the headboard, glasses on, and remote
pointed at the television.

Click. Click. Click.

I move through the room, taking off my clothes and throwing on
some flannel pants. The TV screen continues to flash with different channels,
her eyes glazed over and staring.

Click. Click. Click.

I stand at the edge of my side of the bed, moving my gaze back
and forth between my zoned-out woman and the flicking television screen.

“Mouse, baby, you going for a record?”

“Huh?” Her eyes move to me, and she pushes up her glasses at the
bridge of her nose.

I point to the remote. “There. You trying to see how many clicks
you can get in a solid hour? Going for Guinness book?”

A tiny blush colors her cheeks. “Oh”—she drops the remote
onto the down comforter—“no, I was just looking for something to watch.”

“Right.” I pull back the sheet and crawl in next to her, pulling
her down and onto my chest. “Maybe you could hold off for a second? I need to
talk to you about something.”

She tilts her face up, resting her chin on my chest, worry
pinching her brows. “Sure, what’s up?”

“Turns out my presence has been
requested
in Orange County.” I run my knuckles up her soft cheek
and pull her glasses off to place them on my bedside table.

She blinks rapidly before her eyes widen. “The General?”

“No, if it were him who wanted me there, he’d just show up and
drag me back or send his thugs to get me.” A humorless laugh burst from my lips
and sadness washes over her face. I run my thumb between her eyebrows to smooth
the worry. “Actually, it’s my mom. Guess she gave up trying to get me to come
home, so she sent Brae.”

“That’s great, right?” The corner of her mouth lifts a little.
“You miss her; you have to.”

I shake my head and sift my fingers through her hair. At first I
didn’t know why Layla twirled her hair so much, but now I get it. The shit’s as
soft as anything I’ve ever felt. “I don’t know how I feel. Not sure what she’s
planning on dropping on me, but I’m not exactly pissin’ myself with excitement
to find out.”

Her eyes dart to the side, and then she turns her head to rest
her cheek back on my chest. “Crap. I mean I think it’s a really good idea to
go, but I can’t travel so close to my due date.”

“Not you, babe, they’re requesting me and me alone.”

Her stunned gaze swings back to mine, and I can’t help but groan
against the disappointment I see.

“Don’t take it personally. It’s only a day trip, and it could get
ugly. I wouldn’t want you there for that anyway.” I continue to run my fingers
through her hair and down to massage her neck. “Think of it like this. Maybe if
I can work things out with them and if they agree to be on their best behavior,
I’ll see if they want to come down for a few days after the baby comes.”

“Okay.” She seems to relax a little, but I can still feel the
slight tensing of her muscles. “I’d like that. I mean . . . the more family the
better. My parents don’t travel well, and I wouldn’t feel comfortable having
them too far from the nursing home.”

“We’ll take the baby to visit them in Florida as soon as we get
the okay to do so.” I speak the words into the top of her head between kisses.

“Thank you.” She sighs softly into my chest, and the breathy
sound has me hardening instantly.

Sooner I get this conversation over, the sooner I can get inside
my woman. “So tomorrow I’m going to have Brae spend the day with you while I
take a quick trip back home.”

Her body tenses. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I know.”

“Then why have Braeden come?”

“Because I’ll be dealing with enough in Orange County, and
knowing he’s here with you’ll buy me a little peace of mind.”

“Blake—”

“Please, Mouse. It’s for a day. I’ll be back by dinner.”

She huffs out a breath that sounds a lot like the one Axelle did
earlier when we threw down the dorm rule. “Fine.”

I press my lips to the top of her head and whisper there. “Thank
you.”

“What time do you leave?”

I flex my hips and roll her over, settling myself to her side,
but sliding my thigh up along hers to lock her in place. “Flight leaves at nine
a.m.” My fingers dance up her bare arm with a light touch that raises goose bumps
against her flesh. “Which means it’s time for you to get naked.”

She squirms as much as she can with my leg thrown over hers, her
eyelids drooping with every barely there touch against her skin. A low moan
falls from her lips before she bites the bottom one and arches her back. I
trace the delicate line of her jaw and run my thumb along her lower lip to free
it from her teeth. Her legs continue to press against mine, as if she’s trying
to put out a fire or open them for me.

Burying myself inside Layla is the only therapy I need before I
face whatever’s going on back home. And that’s exactly what I plan to do.

Eleven

Blake

My fingertips tingle as I glide them along every bit of
Layla’s exposed skin. It’s as if every part of her is an erogenous zone when
we’re together. No matter where I touch, she responds immediately.

I dip my head, running my lips along her shoulder, allowing my
tongue to dart out as I follow the line of her collarbone with my forefinger.
“Damn, Mouse. You smell and taste so fucking good.”

She tries to push me over, get me on my back, and have her wicked
way with me, but she’s not the one in control tonight. I need this more than I
need air, need to feel her warmth wrapped around me before I return to face my
past. I hope that she can send me off with enough of that warmth to beat back
the old demons that’ll threaten to get inside.

“Blake . . .” Her words dissolve with a shaky plea that I’m all
too familiar with.

I don’t plan on making her suffer, but first . . . “Mouse?” I
speak the name against her skin, allowing my tongue another taste of her sweet
neck.

“Mmm?” Her hands grip my hair, holding me to her.

“I wanna fuck you in The Room.”

Her breath hitches, and her body melts deeper into the bed as if
my words have just turned her into pure liquid.

I smile against her pulse point. “Can I assume that’s a yes?”

“Yes, please.”

I can’t help the tiny chuckle that bubbles up from my throat and
hits her neck in a hot burst. “So polite, my Mouse.” I continue to bathe her
chest and neck in soft kisses, my hand moving to the hardened pink tips of her
breasts, which I can see through her thin tank top. “I wanna hear you ask me,
baby. I want to know that you want that bad enough you’d ask me for it.”

Her body freezes, and I pull back to see the flare of rebellion
in her eyes. I run my thumb over her nipple in long but firm passes until a haze
of desire washes away the urge to fight me.

“I want you to take me to your music room.” She forks her fingers
into my hair, scraping her nails along my scalp the way she knows I like it.

I groan and my hips jerk forward, rubbing myself against her thigh.
“Say please.” Fuck, she’s got me so worked up my voice sounds weak in my own
ears.

Her hand slides down and grips my hard-on. “You first.”

“Dammit, woman.” I push up and do a quick rearrangement of my
pants for comfort then scoop a satisfied-looking Layla off the bed. “You’re
learning all my tricks, beating me at my own game.”

She giggles and buries her head into my neck. “So punish me.”

“Fuckin’ hell, now she’s asking to be punished, as if I wasn’t
already about to explode.” I growl and move out of our room and down the
hallway to the one room in the house that has always been locked . . . until
Layla. I kick the door open, flick on the lights, and bring her to the worn
leather couch.

The smell of maple, birch, and mahogany soothes my nerves, and
the view of my woman, flushed with arousal and need, stirs my blood. I shut and
lock the door then turn toward her. She leans back on the couch, her tiny
shorts and tank top showing off a healthy portion of her swollen belly.

I move to stand at her feet and glare down at her. “Up.”

“Up?” She scopes the area, almost as if she’s wondering where
else there is to make love if we’re not doing it on the couch.

I nod and offer her my hand, knowing that it’s not easy for her to
push herself to standing. Once she’s up, I turn her around, gripping her hips
firmly until she presses her ass against my dick.

Yeah, now she gets it. There are only a few positions that are
comfortable for her at this stage in pregnancy, and luckily they’re all my
favorite ones. Then again, every position with Layla is a favorite.

My hands run from her hips around to her belly. I rest my chin on
her neck, and she tilts her head, inviting my lips. There’s a small strand of
hair in the way, so I blow gently to gain access to her sweet skin. She shivers
in my arms and my dick jumps.

After I spend a short time on her neck, her ass rubbing against
me, her hands dip beneath my pants and she digs her fingernails into my ass.
Need rides me hard, and I tug at the tender flesh of her neck with my teeth.

I suck deep and hard at her neck as if I could ingest her
goodness and love. Like a starving man, I gorge myself and
know
that nothing the world can offer will ever satisfy me as she
does.

Moving down her body, I drop to my knees behind her, pulling her
shorts down to her ankles. I don’t have to ask; she freely steps out of them
and I toss them aside.

At eye level with her ass, I groan at how fucking perfect she
looks. The curve of her hips and round globes of her cheeks are fuller now, and
my teeth tingle to sink into the soft flesh. Might have to keep her pregnant
all the time.

I lick my lips before placing a kiss on her backside. She drops
her head forward; her hands cover mine, which are on her hips.

“Knees on the couch.” My command is low and throaty, and she
shivers in response as she does what I ask.

Kneeling on the couch, she leans forward to place her elbows on
the back. The visual is almost too much to take, and I stare for several
seconds to commit the view to memory.

“Hell, Mouse . . . never seen anything so beautiful in my whole
life.”

She ducks her chin, and I know this must be hard for her. She’s
mentioned how self-conscious she is with all the changes her body is going
through. If only she could see herself through my eyes.

I run my hands up the front of her thighs and around to her ass,
preparing her for my attention. “Arch your back, baby.”

She does, giving me all the invitation I need. I dip down and
kiss her between her legs. Long and deep, I use my tongue to blaze a trail that
I plan to soon follow with my dick.

She walks her knees wider and presses back into my lips. Every
lap of my tongue, nip of my teeth, and slide of my mouth has her moaning and
moving against me. Words fall from her lips in jumbled strings, and if I weren’t
so lost in her taste, I might’ve grinned.

“Don’t stop . . .” Her hips roll as she works herself against my
face.

Aw, fuck, my stomach tightens with the building orgasm that is
sure to end all orgasms.

I pull back and she whimpers loud.

“Shhh, baby.” I stand and align myself with her. “I’ve got you.”

“Blake, hurry.” She leans her forehead on the back of the couch,
pushing herself out to me.

Slowly, I nudge my way in, and my jaw falls loose at the
overwhelming feeling, the awe-inspiring sight, and the sensory overload that is
sliding inside Layla. No matter how many times I do it, it never ceases to rock
me to the core. Her tiny body, so in tune with mine, nothing has ever felt like
a coming together of mind, body, and soul like making love to her.

With intentional strokes, I glide in and out, absorbing the
warmth of her delicate body. I bite my lip, and my legs tense to hold back and
remain gentle while everything in me begs to power into her. To lose myself
completely and claim her with an aggression that she’ll feel for days.

Her breathing gets heavy, puffs of air from her lips mixed with
the tender whispers of my name. My chest swells with pride, love, and devotion
to her, us, our family. Our future.

She rocks back into me, asking for more, letting me know that she
can take it. I quicken my pace, but lock down the urge to go deeper. She moans
and I know she’s close. I rock into her again and again then lean forward and
kiss her shoulder once before pulling at her skin with my teeth.

Her head flies back in a flurry of blond hair, and she groans my
name through open lips. With her head turned slightly, I push up and claim her
mouth. Her tongue pushes past my teeth, and I suck it deep into my mouth,
hoping she can taste herself. Leveraging against the couch, she rocks back into
me.

I grin, small and quick, before pulling back and stilling her
hips with my hands. “Easy.”

She drops her head heavy and stills to allow me to control the
speed and depth. Starting slowly, I pull almost all the way out and then glide
back in. She moans. I do it again, a little faster, and pick up the speed with
every thrust.

“Don’t stop . . .” Her muscles tense and thrust forward through
the gripping pressure, knowing she’s close.

She reaches back with one hand, and her nails dig into the flesh
of my hips, spurring me on. I lean over, resting my hand on hers that grips the
back of the couch, holding her in place as I roll my hips with a final thrust
that tips her over the edge. She pants through the orgasm that shreds through
her body while I hold her firmly to me.

I drop kisses along her shoulder until I feel her body relaxing.
“You good, baby?”

“Mmmm . . .” Damn if there isn’t a smile in her moan.

I push up and start to move, satisfied that my woman is ready for
more. With a tightening in my gut, I throw more weight behind my hips, again
and again, then nuzzle my forehead into her back. I want to shout how much I
love her, write her fucking poetry, and quote romantic sonnets, but instead I
bite against the roar of my own release. My eyes pinch closed as the intensity
washes over me, making me dizzy for a second before the feeling in my legs
comes back.

“You okay?” I kiss her shoulder and move my hand from her hip to
wrap around our baby in her belly. “If anything’s going to throw you into labor”—I
pant, catching my breath—“it’s that orgasm.” I roll my forehead against
her shoulder. “Damn, thought that thing would kill me.”

She giggles, soft but throaty, and the sound alone has me
hardening again. “You always say that.”

“What?” I push up and massage her lower back. “I do not.”

She pushes up and leans back into my chest, keeping our
connection. “Yeah . . . you do.”

“Well shit, Mouse, surprised I’m not dead by now.” I pull away
and dip down to grab her panties and shorts. “Wanna clean up before you put these
back on?”

“No, I’ll put them on just in case Axelle’s home. Good thing this
room is sound proof.” Her eyes widen. “Can you imagine if I ran out of here
naked from the waist down and she had friends with her out there?” Her hand
covers her mouth and she laughs.

“She’ll be away at college before you know it, and then you can
do all the streaking through the house that your little heart desires.” I tuck
myself back inside my sleeping pants then drop to my knees. Layla puts a hand
on my shoulder to steady herself while I help her into her panties and shorts.

I glance up and see our baby growing in her belly. My hands move
to her on instinct, drawn to the child that any day now I’ll hold in my arms. I
put my lips to Layla’s belly. “Hey, baby, listen . . . I have to leave town for
a few hours tomorrow. You be good and don’t give your mama or Uncle Brae a hard
time, okay?” I press my ear to her belly. “You’ll be good for Mom, but not your
Uncle, huh?” I shrug and move my lips against her skin. “Good enough, but um .
. . one more thing.” My throat gets tight as if I’m carrying a ten-pound weight
inside it. “I love you. I’ll always love you. I’ll be the first and the last
man who’ll love you ’til his dying breath. You hear that, baby? First and the
last.”

Layla’s breath hitches in her throat, and I take the moment to
close my eyes and settle into the feeling. Love. Unconditional love in all its
fucking glory and all around me.

With that, I can face insurmountable obstacles, and a half-day
visit with my parents tops that list.