Wild Side

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Wild Side Page 10

by Mari Carr


  Hell, tonight was probably more than she should have taken. Not that she’d apologize for it.

  Sorry, not sorry.

  She lifted her arms to Miguel’s shoulders, her nails scratching his skin. She raised her legs and locked her ankles around his waist. “Take me,” she demanded. “I’m yours.”

  Miguel fucked her, slow and steady, his gaze never leaving hers. It felt as if he could see all the way to her soul, the connection between them so much deeper than anything she’d ever felt. They came together, the impact powerful. Potent.

  Then she glanced over at Finn, wondering what he was thinking.

  “That was—” Miguel started.

  “Incredible,” Finn whispered.

  Layla smiled. “Best night ever.”

  Chapter Ten

  Layla opened her eyes, squinting against the sun shining through the window. It took her a second to orient herself. When she did, she realized she was alone in the bed.

  Twice during the night, Miguel and Finn had woken up and taken her again. It had been drowsy, easy sex, but every bit as intense and incredible as the first time. Her body was sore, but damn if she wasn’t still horny, still ready to go.

  She sat up, wondering where the guys had gone, terrified they’d woken up with regrets. Miguel had invited her, but they were at the beginning of their relationship. Had she done the right thing by agreeing to come home with them?

  She heard a shower shut off.

  “Shit,” she whispered to herself. She glanced around the room for her clothes, wondering if she could get dressed and escape before whoever had just finished showering came back. That idea was a brief one when Finn walked out of the bathroom with wet hair and a towel slung around his hips, at the same time Miguel entered from the hallway, a plate of buttered bagels in his hands.

  “Feel like some breakfast in bed, you two?” Miguel asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  Layla tucked the sheets around her tightly, trying to conceal her breasts, uncertain where she stood now in the cold, harsh light of day.

  She reached for a bagel, realizing that Miguel was checking out Finn’s bare chest. She might have felt offended if she wasn’t drooling over said chest just as much.

  “Well, that was fun,” she said, trying to force a casual tone to her voice.

  Miguel laughed. “Understatement of the century.”

  His words made Layla happier than they should. She hadn’t lied about last night being the best of her life. She actually felt like a different person, completely changed, new.

  “So…what’s today’s plan?” Finn asked.

  Layla wasn’t sure if his question was an invitation or a subtle hint that they should move on. The lighthearted tone made her think invitation, but she didn’t want to assume that. “Have I overstayed my welcome?”

  “What?” Miguel asked.

  “Well…I mean,” she stammered.

  “LJ. I wasn’t saying you should leave. I meant it. I want to know what our plan is for today. The three of us.”

  She liked the idea of spending more time with them, but the entire reason she was here was because Miguel and Finn had been skirting around the issue of their attraction to each other for God knew how long without talking about it. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake. “Last night was only supposed to be a one-night stand. A jumping-in point for you guys. Not that you took advantage of it.”

  Now that she thought about it, Finn and Miguel hadn’t made one bit of progress toward advancing their own physical relationship. So Miguel’s plan had been a bust.

  Instead of reaching for each other, they’d given her exactly what she’d hoped for. More—kinkier—sexual experiences.

  She had hoped to make it easier for them to touch, to kiss, to be with each other. Instead, she’d been a distraction, an impediment to that goal.

  “That might have been your purpose, LJ, but it wasn’t ours, was it, Miguel?” Finn asked.

  Miguel shook his head. “Not our purpose at all. I thought we were helping you explore your wild side.”

  She was struggling to figure out how she’d gotten so lucky. Not only were Finn and Miguel amazing lovers, they were seriously sweet guys…and they deserved to be happy.

  While she’d definitely had the time of her life, she’d wanted to find a way to help these two kind, wonderful men find each other. “Well, on the wild side front, it was a slam dunk. I seriously thought my head was going to fly off my shoulders during one of those orgasms.” She squeezed her legs together when her pussy started to flutter. “Just the thought of it…”

  Finn sat down on the bed next to her and tugged down the sheet she was holding around her so he could palm her breast. “Lie down, Layla, and we’ll do it all over again.”

  She was tempted. So damn tempted, but part of her got a sense Finn was deflecting, trying to avoid the conversation she’d just started. “The two of you didn’t kiss again. You didn’t…” She shrugged, letting them fill in the blanks.

  “So, clearly we need more practice,” Miguel said. “Another shot.”

  Finn chuckled. “I like where you’re going with that, bro.” He looked at Layla. “We need to give it another try, the three of us. Figure after thirty or forty attempts, we’ll get there.”

  Layla laughed. “Don’t tempt me. I’m not as good a person as I should be. I’ll totally take you up on that.”

  “Wouldn’t offer it if we weren’t serious,” Miguel said.

  She studied both of their faces, trying to figure out if their offer was legit. “I’m not kidding, guys. Keep it up and I’ll pencil you in for the next month or so.”

  Finn pinched her nipple, leaning forward to place a kiss on her shoulder, one he followed up with a nip. “Not in pencil. Ink. Ink it in.” He punctuated his comment by pulling her hair, drawing her head back so he could attack her neck.

  She shook her head to dislodge his hand, shivering with arousal when his tongue stroked a line from her breast to just behind her ear. “I have to admit, I love this bad boy thing you’ve got going for you in the bedroom.”

  “So do I,” Miguel admitted.

  Finn grinned. “Good. Because tonight you’re bringing home the cuffs, Miguel. We’re going to play a little game of good cop/bad cop with our naughty LJ.”

  “Oh yeah. I can get behind that.” Miguel leaned toward her and kissed her. “Promise you’ll come back, Layla. We’re not finished here. Not by a long shot.”

  She tried to figure out a way to refuse, but she wasn’t a good enough person to say no to that offer. So…it looked like her wild side exploration was going into overtime.

  Hell. Yeah.

  * * *

  Two hours later, Layla leaned on the counter of the coffee shop, trying to convince herself she’d made the right decision. She’d gone home with Miguel and Finn last night, thinking she’d expand on her sexual experiences, while helping two men who were clearly meant to be together find each other.

  Somehow, the plan hadn’t exactly worked out that way. She’d thought she could handle sex with no strings, thought she could separate emotions from the physical. That wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

  Which confused her. She’d grown up in a house full of horny, oversexed older brothers. And while they never talked to her about their sexual exploits, that didn’t mean she hadn’t eavesdropped on plenty of their “locker-room” talks over the years. They’d always made sex sound so hot…so easy. Love had rarely come into play. Instead, they’d described the physical pleasure, and she’d wanted to partake, to find the same.

  She had last night. And then some.

  Layla hadn’t had a clue how bad the sex with Marco truly was until Miguel and Finn. Which was awesome. Until she found herself thinking about more than just the orgasms.

  She recalled the sweet way Miguel cupped her cheeks when he kissed her. The way Finn had looked at her after they’d both come. The way they’d both called her “our girl.”

  Fuck.

  T
his wasn’t the way this was supposed to go down. Not even close. It was just sex. Just…fucking.

  Yet Finn had told Miguel to “make love” to her, and damn if that wasn’t exactly what it had felt like.

  She shook her head, fighting to dislodge those words and these feelings.

  The phone rang.

  “Daily Grind. This is Layla. How may I help you?”

  “You got robbed?”

  She inwardly groaned when she heard Tony’s voice. Of all her brothers, Tony—the oldest—was the most overprotective, and the one who’d been the most against her moving to Baltimore.

  “Who told you?” she asked.

  “I think the question is why didn’t you tell us?”

  She rolled her eyes, grateful Tony couldn’t see her. He always lost his shit when she rolled her eyes at him. “It was nothing. I’m fine.”

  “I knew it was a bad idea for you to move to Baltimore. That place is a hotbed of crime.”

  “Oh for God’s sake. This city was your home for the better part of your childhood. Stop being so melodramatic. A guy came in, pulled a gun, asked for money. He got a few hundred bucks and left. It’s over and done with.”

  Layla didn’t like the deathly silence that greeted her outburst. And when it was broken, she knew she’d fucked up.

  “He had a gun?” Tony’s tone was deathly quiet and slow.

  Lord have mercy, she was screwed.

  “Um. What did you hear?”

  “I heard that the coffee shop had been robbed. I thought someone had broken in when the place was closed. You were there?”

  Oh yeah. This wasn’t going to end well. Tony would tell the rest of her brothers and her papa and by tonight, there would be a caravan of trucks parked outside her apartment, ready to move her back to Philly.

  “I’m fine. As you can tell from the sound of my voice. Miguel showed up and—”

  “Miguel?”

  “He’s the cop who responded after my 911 call. He’s super nice, and he’s been really good about keeping me in the loop on the case and coming by the shop a lot to—”

  “You dating the cop?”

  “No,” she said quickly. Probably too quickly. Time to divert. “Besides, Finn is helping me put in a state-of-the-art security system, so the shop is going to be perfectly safe. I’ve handled it. Because I’m an adult.”

  “Finn?”

  Of course the only parts of her comments he heard were the male names. “Yeah. You remember Finn Young. We were friends in elementary school. His grandfather is Patrick Collins. They’re a good family, and they’ve been looking after me since I’ve moved back.”

  Thank God. Maybe she’d found her way out of this mess. There was no way her brother would forget Patrick, and even if he did, her papa wouldn’t. If they thought the Collins family had her back, she may have bought herself a reprieve.

  It was times like this when she really missed her mama. She and Mama had been the only girls in a pack of hot-blooded, overprotective Italians. Despite that, her mama had ruled the roost, had known exactly how to handle her testosterone-laden men. So many times, Layla wished her mother had lived. She would have known how to control the Moretti men, would have convinced them that Layla wasn’t some helpless female who couldn’t survive on her own.

  “Are you dating Finn?” Tony asked.

  “No,” she said. Talking to Tony was pretty much always like this. A frustrating third degree. She was anxious to get any thoughts of Miguel and Finn out of her brother’s mind. It had taken Marco the better part of two years to win over her brothers, and it had been a long, painful process for the poor guy. There was no way she was subjecting Miguel or Finn to that, especially since they weren’t dating.

  They were just fucking.

  Silently, she wished her answer was different. Wished Finn or—shit, and—Miguel were her boyfriends. But that wasn’t what was happening. She was just the buffer…or the fluffer, ugh…or the middleman until Miguel and Finn were able to get their relationship off the ground.

  “Joey and I are going to come see you this weekend. I want to check out this security system.”

  “No,” Layla said, hotly. “Absolutely not! I’m working all weekend, and I don’t have time to entertain you.” That wasn’t necessarily true. It wasn’t work she didn’t want her brothers to distract her from. “I’m telling you once and for all, I’m fine. I’m busy and happy and I don’t need you hovering.”

  Tony didn’t answer right away. And when he spoke again, she was surprised that he changed the subject. She’d really expected him to insist on the visit. “Saw Marco yesterday. He was asking about you. Worried about you.”

  “Tony. That’s over. You know that’s over.”

  “I know it is for you, but I’m not sure Marco is finding it as easy to let go. Are you sure—”

  “I’m sure,” she interjected. “I live in Baltimore now. Will you please believe me when I say I’m happy here?”

  Tony sighed. “You still planning to come home for Thanksgiving?”

  “I am,” she said, knowing she had a snowball’s chance in hell of keeping her brothers away from her until that holiday, though she was determined to try.

  “Okay. If you need anything—” he started.

  “I’ll call,” she reassured him. “I swear. I love you, lunkhead.”

  For the first time since he’d called, Tony chuckled. “I love you too, peanut.”

  She hated/loved her brothers’ nickname for her, one derived from what they insisted was her peanut-shaped head when she was born.

  They said their goodbyes and within two minutes, Layla was right back in the same funk she’d been in prior to Tony’s phone call.

  Her thoughts drifted to Marco. Tony said he’d asked about her. Marco had been totally ready to commit, to spend the rest of his life with her, and the very thought of that had turned her blood cold.

  On the flip side, Miguel and Finn offered her exactly what she said she wanted. Sex with no strings, a chance to go wild. And while it was great, she couldn’t help but wish for more.

  So basically, she’d jumped from the frying pan right into the fire.

  Because…of course she did.

  Chapter Eleven

  Finn let himself into Miguel’s apartment. He had his own key to the place and had for the better part of a year. Miguel had called him a half hour earlier to say he was running late, trying to finish up some paperwork at the precinct. Layla wouldn’t close the coffee shop for another twenty minutes, so he had the place to himself for a little while.

  He wasn’t happy about that. He’d already had too many hours alone today, stuck in his own head. Fergus had called in sick this morning. Not that Finn believed for a second his cousin was under the weather. Aubrey was taking off again tomorrow for another gig, which meant she’d be out of town for a few days. Fergus, the sex-craved lunatic, had clearly managed to keep his fiancée and love of his life in bed all day.

  While Finn was happy—fuck, he was trying really hard to be happy—for his cousin, the day alone in the office had left him too much time to dissect and analyze every goddamn thing that had happened last night. From Miguel showing up at the pub, to the kiss he’d shared with his best friend, to the blow-his-fucking-mind sex he’d had with Layla, he’d struggled to make it through the day. His emotions were all over the place. He was horny, freaked out, confused, horny, excited, thrilled, horny and fucked the fuck up.

  He had promised Miguel they’d talk about that kiss they’d shared, but God only knew what he’d say. Finn had never kissed another man, had never even considered such a thing. And he sure as shit hadn’t expected to be so…moved by it. That kiss had rocked the very foundation of his world.

  Then Layla had stepped forward and added her kiss to the mix, and damn if hers hadn’t shaken him right to the core as well.

  Miguel had suggested the threesome, Layla had said yes, and Finn—weak fucking bastard that he was—had followed them like a puppy dog because his
dick had been doing all the thinking.

  Given the fact he was currently sitting in Miguel’s living room with a hard-on that could drive stakes into the ground, it was safe to say his cock was still serving as his brain.

  Last night, with Miguel and Layla, he’d experienced something he’d never anticipated or expected. It had been the most incredible night of his life, and even as he admitted that to himself, he knew they’d only scratched the surface.

  The door to the apartment opened and Miguel stepped in. He looked distracted and a little stressed out until he spotted Finn, sitting in the living room.

  “Oh, hey, man.”

  “Rough day?” Finn asked.

  Miguel shrugged. “No. Yes. I can’t solve this fucking robbery case and it’s pissing me off. The guy pulled a gun on Layla. I want to find the dude and kick his ass, lock him up. Instead, I’m buried in paperwork, following one damn dead end after another. The promotion list comes out next month, and if I can’t crack this fucker…”

  “You’re going to solve it,” Finn said, hating how despondent his best friend sounded. “You’re an amazing cop and you’re going to catch the guy. I don’t doubt it for a second.”

  Miguel’s face cleared, and he gave Finn a ghost of a smile. “Thanks, man. Hey, give me a minute to get out of my uniform.”

  Finn nodded as Miguel drifted down the hall. He sank down on the couch and waited. Miguel reappeared a few minutes later in jeans and an old Korn T-shirt he’d clearly stolen from Finn.

  “I’ve been looking for that shirt.”

  Miguel chuckled, but offered no apology. “Guess you found it.”

  Silence fell between them, and Finn knew they’d reached the moment of truth. The kiss they’d shared the night before lingered between them, the giant elephant in the room.

  “Listen—” Finn started.

  Before he could say more, there was a knock at the door.

  Miguel left the living room and went to answer it. Finn heard Layla’s voice before he saw her. “Hey. I know I’m early, but I couldn’t spend one more second in that coffee shop. You promised me handcuffs.”

 

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