She glanced down. Maybe he was right, but she wasn’t in the mood to admit it. But she was in the mood to apologize. “About last night, I . . . I’m sorry. I should have been more understanding. I don’t know . . . what I was thinking.” She truly was sorry, but she knew exactly what she was thinking. Sex. Pure, unbridled sex, and she wasn’t in the mood to hear no.
“I’m sorry, too,” he said. “I could have been a little more cooperative,” he said with a half a smirk.
“Damien–”
“Wait. I . . . I had a chance to think last night since I was alone. I’m willing to do and try whatever you want. Tonight . . . if you still want to, that is.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yeah. What do you say we get Izabella to take Keisha out to a movie tonight and a little dinner, so we can have some time alone?” he said in an intriguing voice that Layla hadn’t heard in three years.
“Yeah. Okay,” she said as a smile crossed her lips.
“Good, I’ll see you tonight.” He took her in his arms and kissed her.
Chapter 12
Layla was sitting in Dr. Victoria Samuelson’s office telling her what had transpired during the last twenty-four hours. She was reluctant to mention the sex stuff to her, but she did. Layla wanted to be as transparent as possible with Victoria so she could get the help she needed.
“Goodness. You had a packed few days.”
“Yeah. I guess my hormones went out of control,” Layla admitted sheepishly.
“Tell me more about your feelings on this” — she stopped to look at her notes — “Carter Mitchell.”
“I admit that I find him very attractive. He is so . . . so intriguing and . . . exciting. He just oozes masculinity.”
“I see. He does sound like an impressive man,” Victoria said with a little smirk.
“But I feel a little guilty. I mean, I am married.”
“Just because you’re married doesn’t mean you don’t have a pulse, you know.”
Layla’s lip turned up into a smirk. “True. I must have been talking for at least twenty minutes. Do we still have time to do hypnosis?”
“I can spare extra time today if we need it. I’m willing if you are.”
“I am. I know when I saw you on Monday I came off as a nutcase, but I know what to expect now. I can do it.”
“All right, I’ll set up the tape recorder.”
Layla got comfortable. She brought the heart-shaped necklace with her again. Within two minutes, Victoria started the hypnosis session. They went through the same formality and procedure as before.
“Focus on the necklace, Layla, and only the necklace. Let the memories come.”
Five minutes of silence loomed before something came into view. It was nighttime, and she was at a football game. It looked like a college football game. She was sitting in the bleachers with a black girl and a white girl she had never seen before. The team in the white and blue got a touchdown. Everyone went wild. The scoreboard said thirty-five to twenty-eight. The scene and the cheers faded as the memory mutated into a party. They were in a house filled with drunk and loud college students. The girls she was with were laughing. The black one handed her a red cup full of beer. She noticed a guy in the kitchen doorway. He got closer and closer – she was walking toward him. She thought he was cute. It was Alec, smiling broad and wide.
“Hi,” he yelled over the music.
“Hi,” she yelled back.
“I’m Alec.”
“What?”
“My name is Alec!”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Hey!” they heard. A young guy wearing a football jersey put his arm around Alec’s shoulder. He had dark hair and tan skin. He looked familiar.
“Who’s your friend?”
Oh my god, Bruce.
“Don’t know yet. What’s your name?” Alec asked her over the noise.
She could feel her lips moving, but she didn’t hear what came out because the music was getting louder.
“What?” Bruce yelled.
She repeated herself.
They both nodded, but she couldn’t hear herself say her name.
“Why don’t you two go outside and get better acquainted?” Bruce suggested.
The memory faded.
Damn it.
“Layla, can you hear me?”
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I’m Betty Schultz. I’m the university nurse. You spiked quite the fever this afternoon. Your roommate came back from class, and she found you sweating in your bed.” She had white hair and chocolate-mousse-like skin.
“Where am I?’
“You’re in the hospital. I called the paramedics. I followed the ambulance. I didn’t want to leave you before your parents got here. Honey, you got pneumonia, and you spiked a fever, but they were able to get it down.”
“Layla, do you hear me?” a man asked.
“Who are you?”
“Who am I? I’m your father,” he said with a hint of shock. “Are you sure she just has pneumonia?”
A black man came into view. He had a concerned look on his face as he looked over to the left. There was a light-skinned black woman behind him, looking over his shoulder at her. Her eyes were full of tears. “My poor baby.”
“She’ll be fine,” a man said that she couldn’t see. “She’s probably still a little delirious from the fever.”
A light shined in her eye. “Hey,” she shouted.
“Hey,” Alec said as he walked to her. He was bare-chested and– wet. They were at a pool. Not a public pool. They were at a pool at someone’s house. The water glistened off his skin. God, his muscles were chiseled like he worked out all the time. “I’ve never seen that number before.”
“I wore it for you.”
“You tease,” Alec said as he got closer to her.
They were going to kiss. She could feel it, and she wanted him to.
“Layla, this is Victoria,” she said loudly. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” she answered as Alec faded away. A pain struck her chest. She didn’t want him to go away. She missed him.
“Layla, I’m going to bring you out.”
“Not . . . yet,” Layla murmured.
“It’s time, Layla. I’m going to start counting back from twenty. You’ll slowly make your way back. Twenty, nineteen, eighteen,”
Layla’s ride was slowly ending, becoming more aware of her surroundings.
Victoria’s voice was getting louder. “Ten, you remember everything you saw and heard. Nine, you’ll wake up refreshed and calm. Eight, seven, six.” She finished the count down.
Layla opened her eyes.
“You were in deep. I had to call for you three times before you answered me,” Victoria said. “It was best to bring you out.”
She didn’t say anything as she sat up.
“You were talking out loud this time. What did you experience?”
Layla explained what she saw.
“You said you didn’t go to college.”
“I didn’t. I must have had a friend or even a roommate that attended college,” she reasoned.
Victoria made notes on her trusty legal pad.
“The hypnosis is helping a lot. Do you think I should start pursuing the lead I already have?”
“What do you mean?”
“Should I try and call Bruce to see if he will tell me something now? Should I try to find Alec Peterson? Should I do some research to find out more about my parents?”
“I can’t tell you what to do, but what I can tell you is that if you want to start researching the memories that you have recovered, it is safe for you to do so. It might even trigger other memories for you.”
Layla nodded. She was going to do just that.
Chapter 13
Per Victoria’s suggestion, Layla had started keeping a journal. She wrote down the new memories she gained at her session that day. Then she wrote down a list of what and who she wanted to
research. She wasn’t sure if she would have time to do it tomorrow, but she was going to try.
She filled Izabella in on her new memories. The nanny was so happy for her that she clapped her hands together like Keisha did when she was pleased about something.
Layla had two hours to get ready for her and Damien’s hot sex night. After she left her session, she had gone to the mall and bought new makeup and lingerie. Then she had gone to the grocery store to purchase some edible items. Pulling out the new piece of lingerie made her feel like a virgin who was about to lose her cherry.
Virgin. The word replayed in her mind as a naughty thought emerged.
Carter Mitchell wore a smoking jacket in a luxurious . . . hotel room. He sat down next to her.
“I like you, but I’m scared,” she said.
“Why are you scared?”
“Because . . . I’ve never . . . done this before,” she whispered with embarrassment.
“Oh, there’s nothing to be afraid of. I will treat you like the delicate flower that you are. Now, they’ll be some discomfort–”
“I know. I heard.”
Carter gave her that million-dollar smile. “We don’t have to do this.”
“I want to. I want my first time to be with someone . . . experienced.”
“All right,” he sang. “Follow me to bliss.” He stood and extended his hand to her.
Not wanting to linger on a fantasy when she was going to get the real thing soon, Layla shook her head and entered the bathroom.
After she took a shower, she put on a red bustier and a matching thong. She pulled on the garter belt and brown thigh highs. She put on her pink cotton robe. Then she made her face up like she saw it earlier that week — red lipstick, black eyes shadow, and a hint of light pink blush. She loved how her makeup turned out. Taking the curling iron, she rolled her dark, shoulder-length hair in curls, using her fingers to brush them out. Why hadn’t she done her face and hair like this before?
Layla put on a pair of red, spike heels. She felt attractive and sexy. Perhaps I’ll go back to the mall and buy some more garter belts.
Damien was due home in thirty minutes, so she ran downstairs to get the rest of the things to make their evening special. She had just gotten the bedroom set up when Damien arrived. He was a few minutes earlier than usual. Perhaps he was as excited as she was about the evening.
Layla wore her pink robe downstairs. She was surprised to see that Damien was waiting at the end of the stairs with a bouquet of red roses in his hand.
“Oh, how beautiful,” she said as she stepped off the last step.
“Not as beautiful as you, baby,” he complimented and kissed her cheek.
“Aw,” she swooned as she took the flowers.
Izabella carried Keisha to them.
“Are you ready for the movie, sweetie?” Layla asked.
“Yeah,” Keisha said with her finger in her mouth. “Daddy, are you and Mommy going to be home when we get back?”
“Yes, pumpkin. Have fun, okay?”
“Okay,” she said sweetly.
“I gave you my car keys right, Izabella?” Layla asked.
“Yes, señora, and cash,” she answered in her South American accent.
“All right, have fun.”
“Don’t rush back,” Damien said with a smirk.
Layla stifled her giggle.
Once they got them out the door, Damien turned to her.
“I have champagne on ice upstairs. Why don’t you get comfortable and pop the cork while I put these in water?”
“Sure,” he said with the grin of an eight-year-old boy who was up to something. He jogged up the steps.
Several minutes later, Layla ascended the stairs. The bedroom door was open, so she disposed of her robe, wanting to walk in looking as attractive as possible.
Damien was taking his white dress shirt off.
Layla placed her hand on the entryway and her other hand on her hip. She cleared her throat.
He turned around. His lips parted. “My . . . you look . . . wow.”
She giggled. “Thanks.”
“I poured the champagne,” he stated as he approached her.
“Good.”
“I see we got strawberries and whipped cream, too.”
“Oh, yes. I wanted us to do it right.”
Damien gathered her in his arms, and they came together in a kiss.
For the next fifteen minutes, they relaxed on the bed as they sipped champagne and fed each other strawberries. Layla dipped a strawberry in the saucer of whipped cream and then trailed it between Damien’s pecs. He looked a little confused at first. She dropped the strawberry on a napkin that was sitting on the nightstand as she straddled his hips. Then she bent her head and kissed and licked the trail of whipped cream.
He chuckled as he placed both hands on her hips.
When she finished her sultry task, she raised her head. Her mouth dropped open as she stared into the face of Carter Mitchell. Before she could react, he kissed her. He plundered her mouth like a pirate, making her moan for more.
Layla broke the kiss and sat back on her haunches to unbutton his pants. To her surprise, Carter had turned into Alec Peterson. His hand yanked at the string of her bikini underwear. “Take em’ off,” he said in a gravely tone.
This is a hell of a time for memories to come back. But Layla went with it because she was turned on by it. She maneuvered out of her underwear as the bulge in his pants grew. Then she started to undo his pants. She realized the skin color changed. Glancing back up as she pulled out his member, Damien licked his lips. Layla shifted down his body and took him in. His hard-on grew in her mouth to a size that wasn’t – him. She looked up and saw Carter looking down at her. “What are you waiting for? Get on the pony ride,” he said with a smirk.
Layla didn’t wait to be told twice. She mounted him and then grabbed his dark rod. Her soft walls stretched as she inched down, her mouth hanging open at the sensation. Apparently, she wasn’t boarding quick enough for Carter, because he shoved his hips upward. She cried out as a wicked grin spread across his lips. She slowly started bouncing, feeling every inch of his stick inside her. He started moving with her, meeting her on every impact.
Layla threw her head back with pleasure. “Ugh, yeah,” she moaned loudly. Then the pushing stopped. She looked down as she continued to rock.
Damien was lying there with his hands gripping the fitted sheet for dear life. Layla rocked faster, desperately trying to climax before he blew his wad. She closed her eyes. All of a sudden, big hands clasped her hips, making a loud smacking sound.
“Oh!” she shrieked as she opened her eyes.
Alec was smirking up at her. He licked his lips as his hands traveled up her waist. She shrieked and giggled with excitement as he aggressively yanked her down, pressing her breasts against him. Then he rolled them over. Alec started plowing into her like a drill bit, going deeper and deeper. His dick felt long and thick.
“Oh, yeah, I’m almost there,” she cried. “Oh, yeah.” She could feel herself getting wetter.
Alec buried his face in her neck. Then he nipped a small part of her skin with his front teeth.
“Oooo,” she moaned.
“Oh god! Oh Layla!” Damien shouted.
No! Not yet! She felt the familiar warmth slowly dripping into her.
His sweaty body collapsed on top of her like a sack of potatoes. It was everything she could do not to shove him off her. After a few moments, he rolled over. She stared at the ceiling, hoping she didn’t look as angry or disgusted as she felt.
Damien rolled on his side and propped his head on his hand, looking down at her. His face glowed. “I got a surprise for you.”
“Oh,” she replied, trying not to sound like she didn’t care.
“You know how Keisha sees a commercial for Disney World and then she asks me to take her?”
“Yeah.”
“And I always say that I would when I get some time?”
Layla turned her head to look at him. “Yeah,” she eased out.
“Well, I decided to make some time. I had my secretary book us a room at Disney World this weekend. We’re leaving tomorrow afternoon and coming back Sunday.”
“Oh my god,” Layla said as she smiled. She didn’t care about going to Disney World, but she knew Keisha would love it.
“I know it’s short notice, but I wanted to surprise you and her.”
“I’m surprised that you were able to get us a room.”
“It’s November. The tourist rush doesn’t start until April or May.”
“Well, we better get some rest. Oh, I need to pack.”
He chuckled. “No hurry. We won’t leave until the morning, and it’s only an hour and a half drive.” He bent his head and kissed her lips.
Chapter 14
It was their second day in Orlando at the Walt Disney World Swan Resort, and they were having a wonderful time. Keisha couldn’t have been happier or more excited. She had wanted to ride and see everything as soon as they had arrived at the hotel. Of course, they couldn’t get to everything in one day, but they did what they could. All three of them had been exhausted when they got settled in last night.
Damien was able to get first-board tickets so they wouldn’t have to wait in line. They rode several rides with Keisha and then went back to the hotel for lunch. Layla carried Keisha off the elevator. Damien had to check his messages from Friday. He was going to meet them in the lobby.
Layla was carrying Keisha to the sitting area when a wide-eyed white woman stopped in front of her. “My God . . . Lana?” she said loudly.
Layla looked at the older woman. “I’m sorry, I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
Keisha just looked at the woman.
“You sound awfully familiar for a mistake,” the woman said with a stunned expression. “I know some people look alike, but this is . . . You have to be Lana.”
“There you are, Martha, I’ve been–” the man began to say and stopped talking when he looked at Layla.
This was getting weird. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but my name is Layla Miles.”
“Um, you’re going to have to excuse us, miss,” the man said. “You just look like someone we . . . knew.”
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