One Hot Momma

by Cara North

  “You want me to…”

  “You’re here to take care of me right, do what I can’t do. Well, I can’t do that, and I will be in more pain if you don’t. Do you want that Layla?” It was dirty and down right rotten of him to do this to her, but at the moment, he didn’t care. He needed to keep her emotionally at a distance, but he desperately wanted her physically closer to him.

  Layla looked at the scoundrel who had possessed her Rafe and wondered exactly how hard he had hit his head in that fall. It was a challenge. He was daring her to take this over the line. An internal war began at once. The part of her that wanted to be with him for the rest of her life wondered why she stood there gawking when she had wanted to touch him the moment his boxers began to rise. The other part didn’t want to feel like a hooker. She was being paid to look after him after all. Her teeth clenched and released over and over again. He waited. His brown eyes were challenging and mischievous. If he were better, she would lunge onto him and show him exactly how well she could take care of all his needs. She looked at the door. He had regular visitors.

  “I need to lock the door,” she squeaked out.

  “Fine,” he said in a flat tone, but his cock twitched. He wasn’t oblivious to her, and maybe, just maybe, she could take this time to not only show him that she could take care of him and the children as a wife and mother, but she could also work her way back into his heart and ultimately remain in his life for the rest of hers. If she could just get him used to having her around…

  Rafe watched Layla walk to the door. Something was different about her. Maybe it was the meds. Maybe it was the way she became more like a predator the moment the door locked and she turned to look at him with that same hungry expression he remembered from the picnic.

  “Do you want me to do it my way, or would you rather give me directions?” She moved to the left side of the bed and gently climbed in. She looked at him with those dazzling blue eyes and waited.

  “It’s a simple stroke up and down.” He wanted to sound less out of breath, but his heart was thumping and his self-control was waning.

  She didn’t hesitate. She slid the elastic band of the boxers over his hips and half way down his thighs. He was completely exposed to her. In the morning light, she could now see every last bit of his naked body. Her breath caught, and her right hand slid around his shaft. Rafe couldn’t believe how much relief a simple touch could bring. She held him entirely too loosely. The gentle strokes she made were more teasing than effective.

  “Harder,” he whispered and watched her hand on him. Her grip firmed.

  “It’s not very slippery.” She was breathless, and he wondered if she was as turned on as he was. In the moment, he wished he wasn’t injured. He wished he could… nope, that was exactly what got him in trouble to begin with, and thinking about taking her over made him spout silly things. It was better if she did this, and he did nothing but let her.

  “Then make it wet.” He closed his eyes and laid his head back on the pillow. It was better that he didn’t look at her while she did this. Her blue eyes could unarm him. They made him weak the moment he met her.

  He could feel her shift around on the bed. She was cautious not to disturb his propped up foot. “Rafe,” she whispered.

  He grunted a reply.

  “I really like doing this to you.”

  He didn’t get a chance to respond. It would have been useless anyways. He couldn’t put together a sentence right now to save his life. Her mouth was so fucking sweet. Warm, wet, and the way she let her tongue tip hit the rim as she reached the top had him taking deep breaths to hold out as long as he could.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t nearly as long as he hoped it could last. “Layla, I’m gonna…”

  “Shhh.” She hushed him and went back to her mission.

  He hoped she understood what she was getting herself into. He tried to warn her, but as her mouth drew tightly around his dick, there was nothing else to do but spend.

  His body trembled, his legs shook, and when he opened his eyes, she was smiling at him. He went to say something…

  “No mess.” She shrugged and slid off the bed. She walked over to the water and twisted the cloth.

  “You don’t have to…”

  The cool cloth ran over his chest, down his abs avoiding the bruised ribs, and then around his spent cock as it began to return to its normal size. Without saying another word, she simply pulled his shorts back up, pulled the sheet back over him, and turned on the television with the remote. “If you need anything else, just ring.”

  Why did it seem like she was getting the best of this situation? He scowled at her triumphant little smile. He wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of a thank you though she deserved an applaud for that performance. Instead, he turned his head toward the television.

  * * *

  Once safely out of the room, Layla made all the faces she wanted to make the moment ejaculate hit her tongue. She was prepared for what was going to happen, but she had no idea what a full load of sperm would taste like. Not that it was bad, it was just different and something to get used to. Always cautious in her adventures she was certainly trying new things with this man.

  She walked to the bathroom and emptied his bath. Then she swished a bit of mouthwash and got back to work. Changing his sheets daily in addition to two children and her clothes meant a nonstop cycle of laundry. She also needed to see if Chance had his requests for dinner this evening. He didn’t seem to care what the kitchen was cooking for the entire ranch; he also didn’t care what she had planned to cook for herself and the children though they usually ate what Chance made in the dining facility as well. Rafe made sure to come up with something he was sure she didn’t have ready.

  It was a personal game for him. He was punishing her. She knew as much by the way he waited for her to get out of the room before he would ring the bell again. She headed down to Momma’s Kitchen and hoped he didn’t ring while she was gone. She asked Heath if there was any other communication device he could get so she could also take care of things outside. She expected the walkie-talkies this afternoon. Maybe she could get some work done if Rafe would sleep. He seemed worn out after that blow-job. Maybe that was another way to knock him out, her lips curled into a mischievous smile of their own.

  “Hi Chance,” Layla said as she walked into the kitchen area of the dining hall. “Hi Malina.”

  “Hey,” Chance replied and kept working on her current masterpiece, a cake of some sort that looked like she should frame it rather than allow someone to cut it.

  “What he wants today?” Malina took the list and scoffed. “Who does he think he is the king of England?”

  Chance laughed. “What is it today?”

  “Ridiculous. I think he hit his head harder than that doctor said. This is not Rafe, not my Rafe!” Malina tossed the list in the trash.

  Layla went to get it out, but Chance said, “Leave it.”

  “But...”

  “Leave it.” Chance turned to face her. “I don’t care what that man has on that piece of paper… ouch.” She twisted and started messing with her pants.

  “Are you all right?” Layla stepped forward. “Is it the baby? Should I call Heath?”

  Chance laughed again. “No, it’s these damn maternity clothes my sister gave me. I wanted to wear them, but she had my niece so long ago, and I’m too fat for my regular pants and not fat enough for these.”

  “I can fix them.” Layla nodded. “I mean I have my sewing machine. I may need some other supplies, but I could fix all of them if you want me to.”

  Chance quirked a brow at her. “How?”

  “I, uh, was in design school when I got the children, one class away from graduating. I had an apprenticeship at several New York design houses through the years. I loved all aspects of fashion.” She looked down at herself and added sadly, “Of course I am a long way from fashion week now.”

  “Well, I don’t know about fashion week, but if you
can fix my maternity clothing problems, honey, I will pay you. I will pay you in money, food. You want me to go rip Rafe’s stitches out of his eyebrow and put them in his lip…”

  Layla laughed with her. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll fix them because it will give me something I love to do, and it will be my way of saying thank you for taking the children camping, and for everything else you’ve done.”

  “Okay.” Chance nodded, and Layla was grateful the woman understood she couldn’t take any more money from this family. The money Bethany was paying her now was more than enough, though it would also come to an end when Rafe was better.

  “I do need my list back though. He’ll be mad if I don’t find duck for him.” Layla frowned.

  “He’s not getting duck. Rafe doesn’t eat duck, and you are not wasting time and money on something I know for a fact he is going to complain about, so he doesn’t have to eat it because he doesn’t eat it in the first place!” Chance was so animated. Her fiery red hair was pulled back and tucked under the chef’s hat, but it definitely suited her personality.

  “What doesn’t he eat?” Jan asked as she entered the door. This was Layla’s least favorite person; his little sister thought Rafe did no wrong. She would probably agree he not only needed duck, but that Layla should go and kill one herself if that’s what it took to get him one.

  “Duck,” Chance said and looked at her as if to dare her to say he did.

  “Why would you want to feed him duck? Especially on a day we’re having momma’s fried chicken for dinner?” Jan was obviously there for kitchen duty. She went to the sink and began scrubbing her hands.

  “I… he…” Layla hated that she couldn’t get out anything coherent around the woman, but really, she was more intimidating than Heath at times.

  “He’s eating chicken,” Chance said in an end of conversation tone. “I’ll bring up dinner for all of you and the clothes, deal?”

  “He’s going to make me pay for this.” Layla shook her head and walked out. She couldn’t get the list because Malina intentionally poured hot water on the trash, just enough to saturate and ruin the paper.

  She heard Jan say, “Pay for this?” as the door to the kitchen closed.

  Back to the house it was then.

  * * *

  “I don’t smell duck,” Rafe said and looked at the clock. “You are feeding me tonight, right?”

  Layla nodded. Brice and Savannah ran in to see him, and his mood changed instantly. Even when he was in real pain, he would smile and welcome them. Layla didn’t allow them to see him until homework was done. It gave him a chance to wake up from his afternoon nap and the meds to settle in.

  “I got an A on my test!” Savannah beamed and handed Rafe her spelling test.

  “Me too!” Brice held out his math paper.

  “Wow, you two are really doing great in school,” he said and then looked at Layla. The expression was a cross between shock and disappointment. She imagined he suspected she didn’t know how to help them study. Of course, when she was pulling overtime to keep a roof over their heads, she couldn’t help them nearly as much as he did.

  “I can’t wait for Aunt Chance to get here. You know why?” Brice said.

  Layla watched his eyes widen at the name ‘Aunt Chance’, the children had taken to calling his family what they chose to, and no one seemed to mind. In fact, they began referring to themselves as aunts and uncles, even Jan. It did Layla’s heart good to know Jan may not like her, but she didn’t hold it against the kids.

  “Why?” Rafe smiled because Brice was ecstatic. He loved Chance’s cooking more than anyone’s cooking.

  “Fried chicken!” He then did a dance she had not seen before either.

  “Brice, stop doin’ the chicken dance!” Savannah scolded him. “He’s been doin’ it all day.”

  “Mashed potato,” he continued to dance except now he mimicked mashing potatoes. “Come on, Savannah, you know you want to.”

  “If I do it one time, will you stop?”

  Brice nodded, and they both did the chicken dance for Rafe. For someone who was so tired of seeing and hearing it, Savannah knew every step and added her own flair to it. Rafe’s eyes were bright with amusement. She wondered if their real father had been so adoring. Then she shoved the thought aside. She wasn’t going to compare him, and she was no longer putting herself up against Lola.

  “Okay, enough dancing, let Rafe get some rest before dinner. Go get cleaned up and be ready to show Aunt Chance when she comes. I am sure she wants to see it.”

  The two children ran out of the room, both singing the song.

  “Now she’s their aunt?” Rafe scoffed. “I don’t want you getting them any more confused than I am sure they already are. This is a horrible situation for them to be in.”

  “You’ll have to take that up with your family, Rafe. I didn’t tell them to call anyone aunt or uncle. They decided to start calling them that when Heath and Chance took them camping. I tried to explain who aunts and uncles are, but they let me know in no uncertain terms that they were choosing their own family now, and your brothers and sister are encouraging it. I have to pick and choose my battles here, Rafe. I can’t fight all of them and try to keep up with you at the same time.”

  “What if I fire you?” He flinched at his own venomous words.

  “You didn’t hire me, so you can’t fire me. Bethany made that clear. I asked.” She smiled wickedly. This might be rock bottom for his attitude, and that was a good thing.

  “You didn’t get me duck. That’s insubordination or something.” He raised his voice just a bit. She could hear someone coming closer, but the steps were too hard to be one of the children.

  “Says who?” she challenged.

  “Says me!” He pointed his finger the best he could considering it was sticking out of the cast. “You are here to serve me. Not to become all chummy with my family, not to take over my house, and not to…”

  He stopped mid rant. Whoever was standing behind her silenced him without a word.

  “Can I have a moment to talk to my brother, Layla?” Jan’s voice was so cold it could have brought the first snow with it.

  Layla nodded and left the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

  * * *

  “Here’s your favorite.” Jan placed a plate of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, and homemade biscuits on his nightstand.

  Rafe didn’t like the way she was looking at him, as if he was the bad guy. Didn’t his little sister see how badly Layla had treated him? Wasn’t she the one who hated Layla to begin with? “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “Like Heath looks at someone when he wants to punch their face in. Like I have committed a crime, like I am the bad guy here, when you of all people know I am not the bad guy!”

  “Hmmm.” Jan crossed her arms and pulled one finger up to her temple and touched it while her eyes squinted in thought. “I do find myself in a perplexing situation. I mean on the one hand, you’re my brother, my favorite brother, or at least you were before you went stark raving loony. Then on the other hand here is Layla, a woman I don’t have much love for, but a woman I am beginning to learn a lot more about as she takes care of said loony brother. So I will make you a deal, big brother. If you can answer ten questions about Layla, I won’t say another word about how you talk to her or what you put her through, but if you can’t answer these questions about a woman you claimed to have loved at one time, then I will tell you this; you better never let me catch you talking to a member of our staff like that again.”

  “Ask.” He snorted. Of course, he knew Layla for crying out loud. He had the right to talk to her like that. She broke his heart and now she was stealing his family.

  “First question, what is her favorite color?”

  Rafe thought for a minute. He knew what Savannah’s favorite colors were, what Brice liked the best. Did Layla even like color? “Yellow.”

&n
bsp; “No.” Jan shook her head in quick disapproval. “What is her favorite type of food? I won’t ask specifically this time. I’ll cut you some slack since you had a head injury.”

  Smug little… He thought about the kids again. He knew Layla would eat anything he cooked for her, but she always took peanut butter and jelly to work. Was it a trick question? “Ha! Trick question, PB and J.”

  Jan’s look of disapproval bordered on sad.

  “What did she go to college for, Rafe?” His little sister’s voice was almost pleading. It was as if she wanted him to know the answer.

  He thought about it for a long while. He didn’t recall her ever talking about college really. In fact, Layla never talked much about anything except the children. “Marketing?”

  “Should I go on?” Jan shook her head again.

  “How do I know you even know the answers to those questions?” Indeed, she could be making it all up to get him to be nicer, more like the brother she was used to.

  “Chance has been teaching me how to make decorations for the cakes. I go there when I don’t have school. Layla comes to the kitchen to search for your ridiculous requests, and while she is there, I learn things about her. For example, we were making these lilies, and Layla said how much she loved lilies. She also said that purple was her favorite color when Bethany wore a purple scarf one day. Her favorite food is Mexican. I know that because she was more than grateful when Malina told her she would set aside a special plate for her when you had her running to the store to buy what you wanted for dinner that night. I know that she was almost finished with her fashion design degree when she got custody of two kids and ran away with them. Did you know she lived in New York?”

  Rafe sat there wondering if his face revealed what his thoughts were. He had no clue what Jan was talking about. He didn’t know any of those things about Layla. He knew she was a dedicated woman who loved her children and made sacrifices for them. He knew she was proud, stubborn, and beautiful. “No, I didn’t.”

  “So I can see why you were shocked when she refused your proposal. How did it go down in your head, Rafe? Did you think you would get to really know her after the kids left for college? You are a hero; there has never been a doubt in my mind about that. You’re her hero. It is plain as day the way she looks at you and how she is letting you treat her like a servant when she is only here to help you out because the rest of us can’t stop running the ranch to be here around the clock. Not that you care about us, or the ranch. You seem to only care about your pride these days.”