His scowl turned into a grin though, when Layla chimed in. “I’m here to tell you, there is nothing runty about Bo. Unless it’s like when you call a really big guy tiny?” She gave them a saucy wink.
Everyone groaned and there were several comments about TMI.
“So anyways, let’s get back to the plan.” Jake groused, clearly uncomfortable talking about his younger cousin’s sex life. “Gabe and I will start digging. Doc will get to work on installing the security system. The rest of you can take turns playing bodyguard.”
Everyone nodded, and Bo felt infinitely better now that they had a plan.
* * * *
He watched the parade of motorcycles leaving the whore’s home. Was there no end to her depravity? She just continued to drag others into her sinful world. First the good ladies of Aurora Heights, and then the soldiers who’d served their country so honorably. Maybe they weren’t so honorable after all. Several were covered in tattoos. He knew what type of women associated with bikers. He’d had the misfortune of dealing with their ilk before. Sometimes it was a necessity to do God’s work.
He had been very careful to make sure that his warnings to the bitch had been harmless thus far. The spray painted warning should have done the trick. He hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone who’d innocently stumbled into her world, but no more. If they so wantonly associated with her, then they deserved whatever fate befell them.
Chapter Eleven
The next few days passed in a surreal blur. They fell into an odd routine. She spent her days trying to pretend everything was normal and her nights lost in Bo’s arms. He had always been a passionate lover, but the years had given him a rough, slightly sadistic edge that she loved. He knew how to skate that fine line between pleasure and pain.
Today as she stretched, warming her class up for a session of senior yoga, she had to fight a blush at the tender ache of her backside. If the sweet little old ladies in her class knew how she’d spent the previous evening, they’d have heart palpitations. The memory had her knees going weak.
She still couldn’t quite believe the trust she’d given him. She’d let him tie her up and do so many naughty things to her oh-so-willing body. Last night he’d fucked her pussy with an insanely large dildo, while working a vibrating plug into her ass. When he’d had both holes completely stuffed, he’d grabbed her by the hair and forced his cock as far into her mouth as it would go. He’d come down her throat, and she’d come screaming his name. Today, however, her tender parts were feeling the effects, and it was a divine ache. She could hardly wait for tonight to experience it all over again.
As class got underway, she noticed Ghost joining Romeo at the door. One of the group was always present in the studio. Thunder loved the company and had taken to sitting guard next to whoever had duty.
As the two men stood by the door, she noticed the odd, wordless conversation between the two. She’d noticed them having these odd, silent conversations before. When she’d questioned Bo about it, he’d simply shrugged and said sometimes they had to communicate in silence. She hadn’t pressed, realizing that there were some things about his training he couldn’t talk about. She also hadn’t worked up the courage to ask him about what had happened to make him and his friends refuse to reenlist when their service was done. It was one of many things they needed to deal with, but truthfully, she’d been so happy she hadn’t wanted to bring up anything too upsetting.
* * * *
“She’s fine,” Ghost told Bo as he entered the apartment over the studio. He and Doc had just finished installing the alarms on the windows and were assembling the cameras they would install around the building.
“She doesn’t have a clue?” Bo asked with a sigh. Thankfully, she’d gone right to the studio today since they’d been running late. She hadn’t seen the small backpack that was waiting for them in the alley this morning. It was a colorful child’s backpack with bright cartoon characters on the front. It would have escaped the notice of just about everyone, but Romeo had a photographic memory, and he’d taken one look at the scene and noticed the discrepancy. They’d called the Sheriff, but he’d been at a loss. Nothing like this had ever happened in Aurora Heights before. Luckily, Doc had explosive ordnance training. It had turned out to be a small paint bomb. When the zipper opened, the person with the misfortune of opening it was sprayed with thick red paint. It wasn’t the most vicious of bombs, but certainly carried a serious message.
Ghost shook his head to answer Bo’s question. “She has the folks from the retirement home twisting up like pretzels.”
“Good. I don’t want her or anyone else to know. She’s worked too hard to get this business off the ground. If word gets out about this, she’s liable to lose customers.”
“The cameras we’re installing will help,” Doc said as he finished the assembly he was working on. “If the bastard tries anything after today, we’ll have his ass on video.”
“I’ll feel a lot better once we have all this installed. Not that she’s staying the night anymore, but she’s here all day. I worry about her and her customers. We can’t keep guard indefinitely. Y’all have lives to return to, and she’s going to get tired of having me up her ass twenty-four seven.”
“I don’t know, PB, she seems just as freaky as you.” Ghost snickered good-naturedly.
Bo couldn’t help but grin. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”
“Damn! How about letting us watch at least? You used to let us watch you when you and Doc would play with the pretty subs from that BDSM club y’all used to love.”
“Hell, he won’t even share with me,” Doc grumbled. “We always shared.”
Bo growled at his best friends. “Layla’s different. The idea of anyone touching her makes me a little bit crazy.”
“You know the type of dancing she teaches,” Ghost hesitantly began. “You don’t think she just does that in the classroom. I mean, I know she does it there now, but what if you find out she’s done it for other men.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Doc snapped, and Bo appreciated his friend’s protective streak.
“No it’s okay. It’s not that the thought hasn’t occurred to me. I know she hasn’t been a saint over the last few years, and maybe it’s twisted but the idea of other men drooling over her just makes me hot. They can drool over her all they want, as long as everyone remembers who she belongs to now. As far as what she’s done before, well the twisted truth is, I like the fact that she’s a dirty girl.” He hesitated, realizing he could never talk to anyone else about this. “Does that make me sick?”
Ghost shrugged. “Does it make me sick that I get off watching? Or does it make Doc sick that he loves to tie up the pretty subs and tease them until they beg to come.” He paused for a second. “Or Romeo sick that he’ll fuck any pretty ass out there, regardless of whether it comes with a pretty pink pussy or a fat schlong?”
“I guess in the end we all have to do what makes us happy. Anyone has a problem with that will deal with me,” Doc growled.
“Us too,” a pair of deep voices said from the doorway, and Bo looked up to see Jake and Gabe standing in the doorway. “And no one better ever let any of our ladies see any disapproval,” Gabe added.
Bo let his gaze travel over his friends and family and realized how lucky he actually was. “Yes, no one messes with our ladies.”
* * * *
Layla watched Bo lock the front door to the studio, pulling the shades, giving them privacy. She’d had another pole dancing class tonight and now he wore an odd expression. She recognized the desire, but there was something more. Something dark was brewing inside his handsome head.
She smiled tentatively. “Hi sexy. I’m almost done here if you’re ready to head out.”
“In a bit.” He caught one of the folding chairs she kept along the class’s edge and dragged it near one of the portable poles she used for class. Sitting down, he stretched his long legs out in front of him and caught her in a burning gaze. “Dance for me,�
�� he ordered, and she froze. Was he serious?
“Oh Bo, I don’t know. It’s kind of embarrassing. I mean, it’s one thing to do it for exercise, but…” She let her voice trail off, unsure of what to say. It was hard to explain.
“Why not? You’ve danced for other men, haven’t you?” His face was a mix of dark desire and something more. Rage, jealousy, she wasn’t sure.
Ah, so that was what was bugging him. Well fine. She’d never pretended to be pure as the driven snow. She’d done what she needed to do in order to survive. Those dark days after she’d been laid off when she was first trying to get her business off the ground, yes, she’d taken whatever gigs she’d been able to find. Oh, sure, she’d been careful, only working in other towns. No one knew that she was the stripper known as Sweet Cherry, but she wasn’t going to lie about it either. Besides, it wasn’t as if he’d been a saint during the last decade.
Raising her chin, she met his gaze directly and nodded. “I don’t owe you an explanation. My past is my own business.”
“I’m not asking for an explanation, baby, just a dance.” She didn’t mistake the coarseness in his voice. His words might be light, but his command wasn’t.
“Fine, you want a dance, you’ll get a dance, but if you ever throw my past up in my face, I’ll drop you so fast, your hard head will spin.”
He agreed. “Okay, but you have to answer me one thing.”
She eyed him suspiciously before hesitantly nodding.
“Tommy Gillford?”
Seriously? “We’re going all the way back to high school?” He shrugged, but it didn’t fool her. He was serious. “Fine, but I told you nothing happened with Tommy Gillford back then, and you didn’t believe me. Why should you believe me now?”
“If nothing happened, how did he know about the little birthmark on your ass?”
“You have to be kidding me! That’s the proof that condemned me?”
“He took great pleasure in telling me how the two of you got it on at his little sister’s sweet sixteen slumber party, that you were through slumming but were too scared to dump me. When I called him a liar and threatened to kick his ass, he threw the birthmark in my face. If nothing happened, then how did he know about the birthmark, Layla? Just fess up so we can move on.”
Layla wasn’t sure how to respond. It had been so long ago, but the pain of his distrust felt fresh. “Tommy did come on to me at his sister’s party. Hell, I didn’t even want to go to the party, but she was on the cheerleading squad and we all tried to support each other.” She paused, a sudden memory coming back. “That prick! We were all changing into our pajamas when he and his little butt-buddy, Reggie, went on a panty raid. He must have seen the birthmark then.”
Bo paled and turned a distinct shade of green. “Oh God!” He hung his head and she was afraid he was going to be sick.
She knew she should be angry, but they’d both been so young. She honestly couldn’t say if she wouldn’t have done the same thing if the situation had been reversed. The thought brought her up short. “Carla James behind the bleachers?” she had to ask.
Bo’s head came up sharply. “I swear she kissed me.” And she believed him.
Layla nodded, and walked over to where her iPod was docked in the corner. Dialing up the song she preferred, “Dirty Diane” by Michael Jackson. She hit play and grabbed a black trench coat and fedora from the prop basket.
As the music began, she let it wash through her body. She walked toward the pole, her stilettos clicking on the floor, her hips swaying to the sensual beat. Turning she met Bo’s gaze. He sat back in the chair, his eyes never leaving her.
Approaching the pole, she let her hand slide up the cool steel as she slowly circled it. After two circuits, she let the coat drop to the floor. Just as the chorus hit, she jumped at the pole, catching it and spinning with her legs in a graceful arch. She slid down the pole into the splits, then using her arms, slowly pulled herself up, undulating as she went. When she was standing, she continued to climb, riding the pole as she went. Once she was several feet off the ground she tossed the hat aside before arching all the way back. Her hands went to the zipper front of her sports bra. It wasn’t as sexy as she would have liked, but a glance at Bo proved he didn’t mind.
As her tits bounced free, he groaned. His hands went to the zipper of his jeans, and he was groaning as his thick, veined cock bounced free. She slid her hands up her body, cupping her breast and teasing the rings through her nipples.
“Oh fuck yeah,” she heard him rasp. His rapt gaze was so hot. Moisture pooled between her thighs, as the exhibitionist in her reveled in the attention.
Flipping down, she caught the pole between her legs in a fireman’s spin. She writhed and twirled as he began to stroke his dick in time with the music. Sliding to the floor, she put her back to the pole and began to ride it up and down. Her gaze met with his, and she slid her hand down the front of her short-shorts. She let out a low hum as her fingers found her swollen clit. This was way beyond any dance she’d ever done.
“You like watching me Bo?” She questioned hoarsely. “You like having your own private dancer?”
“Layla baby, if I liked it any more, I’d blow my load all over my hand like a sixteen-year-old virgin,” he answered as he stood, knocking the chair over as he did. He moved like a man with a purpose. Falling to his knees in front of her, he caught the edge of her shorts and yanked them down, taking the thin lace panties as he went.
Layla’s breath caught in her throat, and her hands went to tangle in his shaggy hair. “Bo, I’m all sweaty. I stink.” Embarrassment made her flush.
“No, you smell like a woman, hot and steamy! Now put your hands on the pole above you and don’t move. If you let go, I’ll tie you there.”
Her pussy clenched at the steel command in his voice. Suddenly she was having trouble breathing. Hands shaking, she complied. Grasping the pole, she watched, completely fascinated, as he lowered his head to her drenched slit.
“Oh my God!” She rasped as he put his nose right to her and inhaled deeply.
“You smell like pure sin, Layla. I want to rub myself all over you so that every time I breathe I smell you on me.”
Layla swallowed convulsively, and her knees threatened to give out from under her. A harsh scream exploded from her as he buried his face in her weeping cunt. Just like he did everything else, he went at it with everything. His lips, tongue, and teeth, all adored her hot flesh. He nibbled at her pouty lips, sucked her sensitive little clit, and then fucked her dripping hole with his tongue. He brought her to the edge as his wicked mouth moved over her. Little waves of ecstasy began to ripple out from her center, and she felt them all the way to the tips of her fingers. Then with a wicked growl, he lightly bit her clit, tossing her over the edge. Screaming, she gripped the pole over her head with a white knuckle grip.
Before she had a chance to recover, he lifted her up and wrapped her trembling legs around his waist. Covering her mouth, he swallowed her cries as he impaled her on his rock hard cock. She threw her arms around his neck and hung on for dear life. It was like riding a storm. His thick rod filled and stretched her. His big hands cupped her ass as he lifted and impaled her over and over again.
The pleasure was so intense, so incredible it was almost painful. Throwing her head back, she screamed as the world dissolved around her. Dazed, she heard his roar as he went over the edge with her.
Vaguely she registered his gentle kisses as he collapsed onto his knees and held her close.
Chapter Twelve
Layla whistled happily as she sorted the mail. Even the small mountain of bills couldn’t dampen her mood. So what if she had a crazy stalker, she also had an incredible boyfriend.
Setting the bills aside, she moved to toss the junk mail into the recycle bin. An odd-shaped envelope caught her eye. It looked almost like a greeting card of some kind, which was odd. Her birthday wasn’t for several months, and there weren’t any holidays coming up. It didn’t have the
now very familiar wax seal either. Pulling out the letter opener, she slit the top of the envelope and pulled the card out. On the front was a puppy with a big pink bow. Cute, she thought. It couldn’t be from Bo. He wasn’t the cute type. Could be from her mother. Her mother was definitely the cutesy type.
Smiling, she opened it up and sneezed. A fine white powder filled the air, covering her desk. She froze, afraid to even breathe. One thought filled her mind. I am so fucked!
She moved slowly as she could, pulling her phone from her pocket and hitting redial. Last she’d seen Bo, he’d been perched on the end of a ladder installing one of the many security cameras that now surveyed her property. She sincerely hoped he was where he could get to the phone. When he answered on the second ring, she almost cried with relief.
“Ahm, Bo, could you come to my office? Just come to the door though, don’t come in.”
“Layla, what’s wrong?” Her voice must have given her away, she realized.
“Just come here,” she whispered.
The line went dead and less than a minute later he was standing at the door to her office.
“Stop!” she cried as he moved to enter the room. Using her eyes, she signaled for him to look down at her desk.
“Fuck!” he swore and she had to agree.
* * * *
His heart threatened to jump out of his chest, and it took everything in Bo to keep from charging in and grabbing Layla. It took all his years of training to step back and do what he had to do. “Carefully slide your chair back and stand up really slow.”
“Are you sure I should move?”
“You’ve already inhaled it, right? We need to get you to the hospital as quickly as we can.”
“But what about you? I don’t want to get near you.”
Breaking Hearts [Smoky Mountain Motorcycles 2] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 8
