Read Layers Online

Authors: Sigal Ehrlich

Tags: #romance, #Romantic Comedy, #New Adult & College, #Contemporary, #Literature & Fiction

Layers (22 page)

“I like you improv.” I beam at him, caressing his waist as I open my mouth for the forkful he offers.

“Mmm, divine.”

He stares at me with glee.

Mmm, you are divine.

Repeating the action, this time he brings the fork to his own mouth, then to mine again, never breaking our physical connection.

“When was the last time you visited your family?” he asks the next time he feeds me, watching me, waiting for me to swallow.

“It was more than six months ago.”

“And you miss them a lot, I’m guessing.”

“Yes I do, awfully.”

He brings another forkful to his mouth. “Why don’t you visit them more often, then?”

Because I can’t afford it. Newsflash, not everyone is rolling in money.

“I’m planning to visit in a couple of weeks,” I say instead. “I’m looking forward to that, though the fact that my brother won’t be there overshadows the anticipation a bit.”

Chewing another bite, he observes me with attentive eyes. “You have a brother? Where is he?”

“Yes, Steven. He’s four years younger than me. He’s a combat medic deployed in Afghanistan.”

Daniel’s left arm tightens around me as he asks, “When does he come home?”

“Three more months to go,” I say matter-of-factly. I can’t avoid the familiar chill of dread I get each time I think of Steven there. Between bites of the next forkful he brings to my mouth I manage to ask him if he has any siblings.

“No, it’s just my mom and me,” he answers in a low voice, somewhat effected, bringing another bite to my waiting mouth.

“What’s the story with your dad?”

He exchanges plates, pushing aside the finished one and sliding the full one next to us. Twisting the fork in the spaghetti he reluctantly answers, “The miserable excuse for a man by whom I was conceived isn’t relevant, Hayley.”

“You seem tense enough for him to have some effect on you. Doesn’t seem so irrelevant to me.” I bite my lips as I notice his mood quickly alter.

“Is it that important to you?” He looks at me, irritated, his mouth twists, and his grip of me loosens significantly, though I’m glad he doesn’t completely let go.

“You’re becoming important to me. Therefore, all information related to you is equally interesting and significant.”

His frozen gaze mellows a notch. I lean my head forward to kiss him, reaffirming what I’ve just said. His embrace is firmer again; grateful, I smile inside, noticing.

“The coward I used to call dad when I was very young left when I was still a kid.” A muscle starts working in his jaw, accompanied by smoldering eyes. Forcing a breath, he continues.

“At a point when my mom was dying of cancer. He left us when she couldn’t even walk by herself.” His expression is disgusted. “With less than a couple thousand in the bank to live off, and no one to take care of us.”

I don’t know what to say so I just hug him, pulling him closer, wishing with all my power to hug away all the pain he exudes. I process this new information about his past—abandoning father, mother fighting a deadly disease—and my heart goes out to him. I have so many questions I want to ask. How old was he? Did his mother get cured, and how? Was his past the reason he started the oncological laboratories research benefit? But I refrain from imposing on him further. It seems as though he’s done talking.

My insides melt at the glimpse of this vulnerable side of him. I hold his face by his temples and lean in to kiss him; he takes the lead enthusiastically, invading my mouth, as though conquering it. Dismissively he shoves the half empty dish away and in the same breath pulls me closer, my legs spread wider as my body is drawn to his. His kisses are so forceful I feel a pulse in my lips and know they will be swollen later on, but I don’t really care and let myself be carried away into his dynamic, crazed pace.
Let it all go D, bury yourself in me, with me.

I am so turned on by his forceful, carnal desire, my emotions are at their highest peak. His hands are peeling off every piece of clothing that separates his touch from my skin. I’m afraid something will end up ripped as he unleashes his hunger. I help him pull his tee over his head, unwillingly letting go of his entrancing mouth. I try to kiss his neck, but he pushes me onto the counter so I’m lying on the cold surface. He clearly has only one aim in mind now and it’s to have me. He grips my thighs and quickly pulls me toward him. I slide on the marble surface, charged with want, concern and empathy. Abruptly he pulls up my skirt and I hear a faint rip. Judging by the burn on my left hip, I realize that my thong has been ripped off. His brutality makes my every cord call for him. I want him now with an alarming urgency. The warning sirens in my head are silenced by my want.

I can’t help a cry of welcome pain as he pushes his way hurriedly to the very deep of me; I quiver from the feeling as my heart and breathing race to some undefined end point. He lashes with anger and pain in, out and against me with every thrust, and I build up, rapidly build up from his sweet, painful assault of my body. His final gasp is my release. I am left breathless and trembling. The afterglow doesn’t leave; it comes in waves of sweet shivers as one heavily breathing, exhausted and released boy—man is laying on top of me. I run my fingers through the silky strands of his golden hair as I try to calm down, hoping I won’t have any marks on me from his forceful grip and roughness. And here it is, I think to myself.
A new, sensitive, hurt layer of personality has unfolded itself before me and in me.

~~~

“A movie?” He lifts his handsome face to look at me.

“I choose this time.” I smirk at him.
Father matters swept under the rug by a vigorous encounter of the flesh.

After clearing the remains of our dinner, I try to make amends with my now wrinkled, disheveled clothes, disposing discreetly of my ruined underwear. Daniel grabs a bottle of chilled white wine from the wine cooler. Taking my hand, he leads us both to the cinema room.

“And the choice for the evening, mademoiselle?”

His adorable playful smile is on, hazel eyes lit up.
He’s back
.

“Any chance you’ve got
Terms of Endearment
here?”

“I’m pretty sure I do,” he says, pensive, half to me, half to himself. “I’ve heard that title a lot. I think it’s one of my mom’s favorites or something.”

“It is my all-time favorite.” I grin and am answered with a luscious kiss.

“What is it about?” he asks, fumbling with the remote.

“An emotionally intense relationship between a mother and her daughter over the years.”

He rolls his eyes. “Sounds promising, can’t wait,” sarcasm bursting from his hoarse voice.

“The things I do for you, Hales,” he murmurs and I grin, utterly ecstatic.
Oh, the things I’d do for you. You’ll be surprised, D
. And his recent rough treatment pops to my mind.

The lights dim as the screen illuminates and I find myself thrilled to watch this movie with him. He takes a swig of the chilled wine and hands me the sweating bottle. I replicate him. Curled up in my indulgent sofa, pleased to see Shirley MacLaine’s manic character seizing the screen, I take Daniel’s hand, lacing my fingers with his, and am greeted by a heart-tottering smile.

I take a sip of the wine that has warmed by now, my eyes glossy with unshed tears while my throat threatens to release them. This’ll be the twentieth time I’ve watched this old film and I still hope that perhaps this time the daughter won’t get sick.

“Hales, I’ll be bleeding soon,” Daniel whispers, nodding at the bite of my fingernails into his innocent hand.

“Sorry,” I murmur, gluing my eyes back to the screen. I think that from the corner of my eyes I see a smile.

Not a minute passes before I hear Daniel announce, “For fuck’s sake.” I glance over at him, curious but disinclined to leave the drama that has just reached its peak on the screen.

“Just hop over and straddle me!”

My eyes expand in awe and I can’t help laughing at his blunt request.

“Raging hormones? This is what
Terms of Endearment
does to you? No wining and dining, no foreplay, just hop on you?” I giggle. “Don’t get me wrong, not that I have any problem with jumping you at any given moment, twenty-four seven for all I care, but seriously, what’s up, D?”

“Come on, I tried to be all nice, sensitive boyfriend and watch this crap with you but this is pure torture. It is seriously emasculating. I need to make amends here, ASAP.”

I burst out laughing.

“I am not kidding, come on, no time, straddle, Hales, straddle,” he commands, looking dead serious. My stomach is sore from laughing but in parallel I feel another sweet clench forming at the pit of my insides.

Still highly amused, I ask, “Hey, can you pretend to be pissed off and say for fuck’s sake again?”

It’s his turn to look perplexed, though a he cracks a small, crooked smile.

“Enlighten me, dear,” he chuckles in a raspy, low voice.

“I just find you mighty sexy that way, Mr. Stark.” I blink suggestively, and I am gifted by a vivid, enchanting laugh which is followed by a clenched jaw and lips pressed into a thin line, though a shred of delight flickers in his eyes.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake Hales, straddle me now,” he snaps.

And straddle I do, gladly.

~~~

When I turn to sleep cradled by his firm arms, I murmur, “Tomorrow, after work, I’m going home. Ian’s coming over. You can join us if you want.”

“I don’t think I will. I have a hectic schedule waiting for me and you probably want to be alone with your friends.”

“You’re always a welcome addition,” I say, and am answered with a kiss. I burrow deeply in his embrace just before, exhausted, I close my eyelids.

Chapter 21: Poor Chinese Life Philosophy and Then Some

“Ladies, if it’s the subject of alcohol we’re dealing with here, then this is what I have to say.” Ian halts for a moment, adds a dramatic note to his voice and continues. “If you choose to brace up only one thing I ever tell you, let it be this, my dear ladies. Clear alcohol, go with clear!”

We both look at Ian sitting next to us on our white marble floor, then at each other. I bite my lips trying to subdue a wider smile, doing my very best to look attentive. I can see Tasha imitating me. Rob, on the other hand, is looking at the three of us in bored awe as if to say, “What am I doing here with this strange trio?”

Doing my best friend, Rob, that’s what you’re doing.

“Ladies,” Ian declares, drawing our attention back to him. “If you go for any other color in the booze palette, and remember I’ve warned you-try not to, but if you do, skip food.”

We both nod, feigning admiration for the dogma coming out of Ian’s beautifully lush, rubbish-preaching lips.

“Just stay away from dark alcohol. Whatever you do, gorgeous ladies, keep it away from your dreamy mouths. It is goddamn fattening.” He nods, emphasizing his belief.

“It looks tempting, but just don’t try. It’ll stay with you forever and mess with your brains. Take it from me, it’s no good.”

“Now that’s something a priest won’t be preaching.” Tasha murmurs.

“Let me see if I understand you,” I say, trying to look serious but finding it hard with the smirk spread over Tasha’s face. “In case we decide to consume alcohol, we should always choose clear liquids as they contain less calories?”

Ian sends me his zillion-dollar, adorable grin. “That’s right, gorgeous.”

I start to giggle.
I can’t imagine anybody who can elate my spirit better than Ian does. He’s my own private sunshine—well, ours—Tasha’s and mine. Though now that I think of it there’s someone else who can lighten my mood just as much as Ian, though he does it in so many very different ways
.

“So what did you end up ordering, Hales?” Tasha inquires, while Rob massages her shoulders.

Why do I find this so disturbing? He’s no different from any other guy Tasha’s had over till now. Perhaps the fact that he’s her boss? Or the fact that he’s in a committed relationship with someone else? Or maybe what Daniel thinks is affecting the way I feel …
I shake my thoughts away and reply, “Poor Chinese.”

Ian to my side shakes his head disapprovingly, murmuring under his breath, “Oil-saturated carbs, on your thighs that’s were it’ll end.”

“Poor Chinese, what’s that?” Rob asks and the three of us laugh in stereo.

“Just greasy, cheap Chinese fast food. Our thing.” Tasha fakes being repulsed.

“We dine in style,” Ian comments wryly, adjusting his orange Scuba watch higher on his wrist.

Rob smiles and plants a kiss on Tasha’s head.

Mental note: I need to ask Tasha later about how weird it is for them to act as though it’s business as usual at the office after, well, this …

“Munch time!” Ian rejoices at the knock on our door, clapping his hands enthusiastically like a content toddler. I beam at the aura that seems to constantly surround him. He’s always so vibrant.

“My treat. I’m getting it.” I grab my purse from the shabby chic chest in the corridor, and head to the door.

Oh, shit, Daniel. Not good. Didn’t he mention yesterday that he would be tied up at work? Crap!
I greet him, trying to hide my surprise mixed concern with a happy-to-see-you smile. Apparently not doing such a great job.

“What’s with the look, Hales, not so happy to see me?” he questions, his face abruptly fallen at my reaction.
Oh no, it is not because of you, well yes it is, but not on my account
. I push him back to the hall with my body pinning him against the wall as I kick shut the door. Daniel looks at me under raised eyebrows with wide eyes. He probably thinks I’ve lost it.

Lifting my hands to wrap them around his neck, stretching my body on flexed feet against him, I reach his mouth and press a wholehearted kiss on his slightly parted, stunned lips. Passionately, I kiss him with all possible seductive maneuvers I can incorporate into one kiss.

As we part, he questions, “This is more than welcome, but what’s going on here? What’s with the sudden need to sexually attack me outside your door? Can’t do it inside?”

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