Now and Again

by Rothert, Brenda

  For the first time, Layla didn’t feel a sting of resentment that one of her friends was riding into the sunset with her Prince Charming. But she knew it would be back next time, when this four-week power play was over.

  Young Marlon was getting hand-sy during the obligatory dance that was only for members of the wedding party. Ben was listening to the guy chatting next to him at a table with only half an ear, his attention focused on Layla.

  Marlon was cupping her ass with one hand and gripping her hip with the other. He held her so closely against him that her breasts were touching his chest. Every time Ben looked away with disgust, his eyes were drawn back to them within a couple seconds.

  His muscles tingled with the urge to jump out of his seat and jerk the college kid away from Layla so hard he got whiplash. He drummed his fingers on the table and shifted himself around in the chair.

  “Anxious to dance with your girlfriend?” Mark, the skinny guy sitting next to him, was married to one of the other bridesmaids.

  “Uh . . . yeah,” Ben said.

  “I wish that guy would just dance with Carrie all night,” Mark said. “I fucking hate dancing. I’d rather sit at the bar in the lounge and watch the game.”

  Other couples started making their way on to the dance floor, and Ben bolted up from his chair. He hadn’t even made it to them yet when Layla pulled away from Marlon and headed toward him.

  “Am I glad to see you,” she muttered. “That kid needs to get laid.”

  Marlon’s eyes were still on Layla, and Ben glared at him until he fled to the other side of the dance floor.

  “Dance with me,” Ben said, leading Layla back onto the wood parquet.

  “You dance?”

  “Of course I do, Cupcake. Why is that such a surprise?” He turned to face her and reached for her other hand, pulling them both up to his shoulders.

  “I’ve never danced with anyone so tall,” she said, wrapping her fingers around the back of his neck as his large hands settled around her hips.

  “I’ve never danced with anyone so beautiful,” he said, and Layla threw her head back with laughter.

  “What a line!”

  Ben laughed with her. “It did sound like a line, but it’s true.”

  He pulled her hips against him, and Layla’s eyes flicked to his before she laid her head on his chest. The feel of her warm skin beneath the thin fabric of her dress stirred his desire for her. It didn’t take much to cause that anymore, though. She’d looked at him from across the room at the rehearsal dinner the night before and fuck if it hadn’t made him hard.

  They danced in silence for two slow songs and Ben was sorry when a pop song started and Layla unmolded her body from his. Her brows arched playfully when he busted a move to the faster music.

  “You’re full of surprises, Sergeant Montrose,” she said, turning around. When she rounded her ass against him, Ben reached around her instinctively, wrapping an arm around her waist. He felt her sharp gasp when his erection pressed against her ass, and it got his blood flowing.

  She spun back to face him. “Gotta keep it clean til the grandparents leave,” she said. “But after that I plan to have my way with you on this dance floor.”

  “And after that I plan to have my way with you upstairs,” he said, his tone smooth and sure.

  “Oh, really?” Layla’s lips parted with amusement.

  “Yes, really.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll give it to you there if you want it. But you’ll be sore tomorrow. Then again, you’ll be sore no matter which way I choose.”

  He looked at her intently as they danced, her hips edging right up against his. He knew why she wasn’t arguing for once. She wanted him to own her body as much as he did. She was just too damn proud to admit it. Ben was slowly figuring her out, and he’d waited long enough to learn how she liked to be touched and what made her come hard. He was done waiting.

  ***

  Every nerve in Layla’s body tingled with need for Ben. She’d been moving her body against his in time with the music for almost two hours, and the buildup was becoming more than she could stand. She ran her hands over his hard, wide shoulders, up to the back of his neck and into his hairline, which was damp with sweat.

  They’d eaten dinner, toasted the bride and groom, and made conversation with the others at their table. And after that, they’d hit the dance floor and never left. But Layla suddenly decided she couldn’t wait another second to be alone with Ben.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” she said in his ear. He said nothing, but took her hand and led her from the dance floor. They’d said goodbye to Liam and Kelly before the newlyweds went up to the honeymoon suite, so Layla grabbed her small purse from the table and followed Ben to the elevator.

  Her heart thudded with anticipation as the doors slid closed, leaving them alone on the trip up to their room. She waited, sure Ben would shove her against the wall and let his hands explore the places they hadn’t been able to on the dance floor.

  Do I have to ask him to, since I’m in charge? Should I jump on him? I want to jump on him. Shit, the elevator’s slowing down.

  She glanced in his direction and narrowed her eyes in confusion. He looked cool and composed, staring ahead thoughtfully, his hands tucked loosely into the pockets of his suit pants.

  Had the dancing not worked him up at all? She was about to explode. If she had her Magic Wand, she wouldn’t even need to turn it on to get off right now. Contact with anything, vibrating steadily or not, would do it.

  Ben pulled his magnetic room card from his pocket and swiped it. He pushed the door open and waited for Layla to walk through. She stepped into the room, trying to decide what to say, but nothing felt right.

  Layla Carson, you’re a strong, assertive woman. Tell him to strip and put his fine ass in that bed.

  But words wouldn’t come out of her mouth, no matter how she willed them. Ben walked toward her slowly and the closer he came, the faster her heart pounded. She wanted this in so many ways, but the voice of doubt was nagging like an oncoming headache, telling her sex with Ben would be the climax of their relationship, in more ways than one. Once he’d screwed her, the challenge would be gone. But how could she deny him? He knew she was easy. Or at least, that she had been. Once a ho, always a ho? Sounded like a tattoo one of her sorority sisters had gotten one drunken night.

  “Stand right there,” he said, his bright blue eyes piercing through her. He slipped his dark suit jacket off and laid it on the bed, his gaze never leaving her. Layla unconsciously licked her lips as she watched him pull out the knot on his tie and slide it out from around his neck. He threw it on top of the jacket and unfastened the top button on his dress shirt.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she admired his tall, powerful frame. But it wasn’t his body that was commanding her will; it was his dark, intense stare. He walked to the room’s cherry writing desk and pulled the simple wood chair out from behind it, moving it just a few feet from the foot of the bed.

  Layla shifted her feet slightly, the warmth between her thighs making it hard to be still. She wanted to lunge for Ben and fall to her knees. No man had ever made her want to be compliant, but dammit if she didn’t crave it right now. She wanted to take him in her mouth again, and hear his loud, deep groans of satisfaction.

  But something held her in place, and she continued to watch as Ben reached for a sleeve of his dress shirt, unbuttoning it. He slowly rolled the sleeve up nearly to his elbow and then followed suit with the other one. When he was finished, he sat down on the chair, his long legs spread open casually at the knees.

  He motioned her toward him with a flick of his fingers, and Layla obeyed, coming in his direction until she stood between his legs. Ben’s eyes were still locked on hers as he slid a hand beneath her dress to her bare leg. His fingers grazed her skin, brushing over her knee and up one thigh. Her lips parted as she took a sharp breath in. When his fingertips explored the outside of the silky fabric of her pant
ies, a sound between a sigh and a moan escaped her lips, and Ben’s eyes darkened.

  “Turn around,” he said. She pivoted her feet so her back was to his chest and a shiver of anticipation passed through her as Ben’s hands reached up to the zipper on her dress. He slid it down and cool air hit her skin when the dress fell to the floor. She wore only her strapless nude bra and lacy panties, and though her back was to him, she still felt his eyes roving her.

  He reached up and unhooked the clasp of her bra in a swift motion, letting it drop to the floor on the dress. When the air tightened her exposed nipples, Layla felt a thrill from being nearly naked while Ben still wore his dark suit pants and dress shirt.

  His hands wrapped around her waist and he slid his fingertips beneath the lace of her panties, sliding them down until they dropped at her feet. His hands were feather-light as they trailed down the cheeks of her ass, and a ripple of anticipation shot between her thighs.

  “Turn back around,” he ordered. Layla’s body responded to his voice with no input from her mind. She flipped around and tossed her hair over her shoulder, reveling in Ben’s wide eyes and parted lips as he studied her body. His gaze landed between her legs and she felt a flicker of self-consciousness.

  “I could just look at you all night,” he said in a low tone, stroking his hand over the bulge in his pants. “You’ve got the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen.”

  He grazed his fingers over her stomach, letting his hand travel all the way up to her breast, which he ran a fingertip over, his other hand still on his stiff erection.“Turn around, sit down on my lap and put your feet on my knees,” he said. Layla did it, feeling the soft fabric of his shirt on her back as she leaned against him.

  When he pressed a gentle kiss on her shoulder, she whispered his name, overwhelmed by how sensual he made her feel. His voice stoked her arousal as surely as his hands did. “Spread your thighs wide for me.”

  Layla felt brazen as she did it, the soles of her feet pressing against his knees.

  “Yeah,” Ben’s voice was a rasp, his breath hot against her neck. “You fucking like me telling you what to do, don’t you?”

  She parted her lips to answer but her words became a moan of surprise when he ran his index finger along the wet line of her core. He pressed it inside her in one swift motion and she gasped with pleasure.

  “Oh my God, Ben,” she cried. “Ah, no . . .”

  He pressed the fingers of his other hand to her jaw line and turned her face toward him. “Stop with that shit, Layla. I don’t think you’re a slut. I want to see this side of you. Open yourself up to me.”

  His fingers slid over her in circles, and she was powerless to stop the wave of euphoria that was sweeping through her entire body. Ben’s teeth tugged gently on her lower lip as she flexed her hips against his hand.

  She couldn’t fight against his adept fingers, which seemed to know exactly how to touch her. He moved faster, harder, and she threw an arm back around his neck, clutching his hair between her fingers and pulling it as his name came pouring out of her in a powerful scream.

  The long arm he had wrapped around her chest held her body against him as her body went limp. She turned her face toward him and he captured her lips in a slow, sensual kiss. Her feet dropped from his knees and she turned around, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and straddling his lap.

  What should she say to him about the orgasm so deep and powerful it had been an out-of-body experience? Thanks? It didn’t feel like enough.

  He stood and picked her up with him, carrying her to the bed and laying her down. Her eyes were heavy as she watched him unbutton his dress shirt and drape it across the chair. He slipped his dark pants down and let them fall to the floor, throwing his white t-shirt on top of them.

  Layla moved to slide under the covers with him, reaching between his legs as soon as their bodies came together. Ben took her hand and moved it to his side.

  “But it’s my turn now,” she said softly.

  “You’re tired. Sleep,” he said. “Do you like facing me when we sleep or turning around?”

  “Mmm . . .” She flipped onto her other side and slid her back up against his chest. “That was amazing,” she mumbled.

  “I’ve wanted to do that since the first time you walked into my office.”

  “Mission accomplished.”

  “There are a lot of other things I still want, though.” His breath tickled Layla’s ear as she drifted into sleep.

  “You still have . . . two weeks and five days,” she said, wondering if she’d spoken the words or just thought them. Fatigue had taken over.

  Chapter 10

  Ben rubbed his forehead as he waited outside a downtown sports bar for Layla to arrive. He’d had a hell of a day at work: interviewing a difficult suspect, disciplining an officer for falling asleep in his squad car on the job and reading mountains of reports.

  He wanted to have a quiet dinner with Layla, but he’d agreed to meet her friend Lane tonight. When he saw Layla approaching the bar, he smiled and put on a happy face.

  “Hi,” she said, leaning up to him for a kiss. “We won’t stay long. You want to get dinner after this? Just us?”

  “Yeah, sounds good.”

  They walked into the bar, where baseball games were being broadcast on dozens of TV screens. Layla approached a petite platinum blonde with pale blue eyes and a dark tan, who sat alone at a tall table. They squealed as they embraced.

  “It’s been forever,” the blonde said, pulling away and looking past Layla to Ben. “Nice man candy. Rawr.”

  “Lane, this is Ben. Ben, my friend Lane. We grew up together,” Layla said.

  “I’m still working on the growing up part, actually,” Lane cracked, reaching toward Ben to hug him. Her head barely reached his shoulder and it felt like a child was hugging him. At least until her fingertips slid down inside the waistband of his shorts.

  Ben stepped back and took a deep breath. “I’ll get drinks. Lane, what’ll you have?”

  “Lemon martini.” She stared up at him, and Ben turned his attention to Layla.

  “I’ll have--”

  “I know what you like,” he said. “Malibu and pineapple.”

  Her smile and slight nod made him feel like he had when he’d aced his shooting range test at the police academy. Confident. Capable.

  While he waited at the end of the bar, Ben glanced over at the table Layla and Lane stood at. Layla’s face was lit up with her laughter, and it made him smile. Whatever her mood, her presence was so strong that it was contagious.

  The women reached for their drinks as soon as he got back to the table with them, and Ben looked around the crowded bar and took a sip of his beer.

  “You usually get the dark stuff,” Layla said, looking at his bottle.

  “Oh.” He grinned as glanced at it. “I like a Blue Moon once in a while.”

  “See, I’m learning what you like, too,” she said, stirring the skinny red straw in her drink.

  “You don’t have much to learn, you’ve already got a pretty good idea.” Ben slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him.

  “Did you finally fuck him?” Lane asked. “Have you ended the dry spell?” She raised her glass in the air and looked between the two of them.

  “Um, no, we haven’t slept together,” Layla said, looking embarrassed.

  “What the fuck? How can you resist getting on that?” Lane’s voice was shrill and Ben decided immediately he didn’t like her.

  “Are you seeing anyone?” Layla asked her friend.

  “Oh, I went out with that guy I met at work, Bryce. But after we fucked he asked me if I’d piss on him next time, and that’s not happening. Why can’t I find anyone normal?”

  “You should come to the pub where all the cops hang out,” Layla said. “I’m sure you’d find lots of good guys there.”

  “And they have handcuffs,” Lane said, grinning.

  “Yes! Bonus,” Layla said. “I’m going
to the bathroom. Be right back.”

  She slipped away, and Ben missed the warmth of her body against his.

  “You are six and a half feet of sexy,” Lane muttered, eyeing him. “The blue eyes, the scruff … and that body …”

  Ben laughed and shook his head. “Thanks.”

  Lane reached for a small white napkin and pulled a pen from her purse. “Here’s my number. Put it in your pocket,” she said in a low tone. Ben stared at her in surprise.

  “I don’t…”

  “I’m down to fuck anytime,” Lane said. “Layla doesn’t have to know.”

  “No.” He pushed the napkin back toward her and she shoved it back.

  “I won’t play games with you like she does,” she said, raising her eyebrows.

  “I’m not interested.” Ben pulled out his no-nonsense tone and Lane flipped the napkin over, setting her drink on it.

  “Not interested in what?” Layla said from behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and his cock stiffened at the feel of her big breasts against his back. She stuck her head around one of his arms to look at him and he put his arm around her shoulders.

  “Oh, I wanted him to fix me up with a cop so we could all go on a double date,” Lane said, smiling sweetly.

  “That might be fun,” Layla said. “Bathroom line’s too long to wait in.”

  “We can do it if you want to,” Ben said. He picked up on the sweet, coconut scent that was Layla’s signature, and he wished he could take her to bed and smell it on her smooth, bare skin.

  “Hmm,” Lane said with a sarcastic groan. “He can’t say no to you and you can’t say yes to him. This is an interesting relationship you guys have.”

  “So Lane’s … colorful,” Ben said as he and Layla walked down the sidewalk outside the bar.

  “Yeah. She puts it right out there, doesn’t she?”

  “She tried to give me her number when you went to the bathroom.”

  A ripple of anxiety passed through Layla as she looked up at Ben, but she covered it with a smile.