by Dace Everan
Layle narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to make me feel bad? Just because she’s pregnant doesn’t mean she gets what she wants,” she replied lightly.
Jake chuckled. “Haven’t been around too many pregnant women have you?”
Layle snorted, glaring at the guard as they drove past him.
Jake grinned. “You’re right, she doesn’t get what she wants because she’s pregnant. But because she’s my wife she gets what she wants.”
Layle grunted. “You’re taking me back then?”
Jake shook his head, driving through the gates. “Nope, you will go back all on your own. I just thought I would offer you a ride, and since you live in the city I thought I would pick up some sweets for my beautiful wife.”
Layle looked at him, not understanding why he would go out of his way to take her home? “Why in the hell would I willingly go back to his house?”
Jake sped up. He knew he had a few blocks where he could put the pedal to the metal then he’d have to slow the fuck down. “What scares you more? The sadist in him or just him loving you?” he asked, not looking at her. He wasn’t sure what happened that night. His team had told him that things had gone well. They had dropped the two off at the hospital and all was good. When Laird had shown up at home alone, Jake had known things had taken a turn. He hoped it would be fixed, but something was missing in the bigger picture.
Layle stared openedmouthed at the handsome man. Shit, he and Laird could pass off as brothers. Their similarities were so alike, except Jake was darker. “Laird doesn’t love me!” Right? There was no way Master Laird loved her. “I’m not afraid of him,” she grumbled.
Jake nodded as if understanding. “So you like when he whips you?”
Layle coughed. “He’s not ever whipped me!”
Jake frowned. What the hell had Laird been doing with this little one? Surely she knew he was a sadist? Whoa, love had struck Laird and challenged him hard.
Layle looked at the trees as they whizzed by. “Shouldn’t you slow down?” she mumbled, glancing at the speedometer.
Jake shrugged. “What for? If I crash, you could be put out of your misery. Poor Laird, though, he would suffer for years.”
“Your wife, you idiot. You would do precarious things like this when your wife is having your baby?” She inhaled a sharp breath as she saw the road curve up ahead and disappear.
Jake smiled. He loved scaring people and he could smell her fear of the oncoming corner. “My wife would forgive me, after she cursed my ass, of course. She knows me well enough to know I would take the opportunity to speed while she was safe with Laird.” Jake applied more pressure to the gas.
Layle’s eyes widened as that corner neared. “You’re not going to make the corner. You’re going too fast and you’ll slide and kill us both,” she uttered, hands gripping the door handle while the other gripped her seat belt.
Jake sighed. It was an easy enough manoeuver. He had nothing to worry about, he’d done it hundreds of times. “Layle, I don’t know you well enough to offer you advice on your own issues. But I will share one thing with you.” He paused, glancing at her.
Her face had paled considerably, and she held the door handle and seat belt in a white-knuckled grip. “Laird Roan does not play with the girls in his club ever. Nor does he spend nights in a cramped up apartment with a tiny little thing like you. He most certainly does not go and risk his life to save her from scum of the earth either,” he stated trying to clarify how serious Laird was about her.
Layle cringed in fear and squeezed her eyes shut as they approached the corner. Not only the fear of possible death from crazy-assed driver but he was right. Laird didn’t save any woman from scumbags. He didn’t get shot by them and hug her and hold her all the way to the hospital and make assurances that she would be safe. Promise her that he would take care of her and that he was sorry for having scared her. Her heart cried out. She had hurt Laird in the worst kind of way. She had taken the love and protection he offered her and shoved it aside like it meant nothing.
“Open your eyes and watch, Layle,” he ordered, and amazingly her eyes shot opened and she watched as they glided easily and in their own lane around the corner.
Her tummy lifted and eased down, and butterflies fluttered as he slowed the car down and eased to the side of the road and came to a stop.
“I should be insulted. Laird never told you I drive cars for a living?”
Layle shook her head, eyes straight ahead. That was an amazing feeling. Shit, she hadn’t had a high like that since she had taken her first jump from a plane.
Jake relaxed back in his seat. “Laird told me you were military. I dabbled in that for a bit. Used to love the thrill of getting out there and getting the job done. I lucked out and didn’t have to do any of the dirty work. Laird got stuck doing some of that stuff.” He looked in his rearview mirror then back out the windshield. “When I got back and retired, I took up doing stunts for major movies. I know how to drive.”
Layle looked at him then. “Are you mad at me?” she whispered. Because she felt like she was going to get lectured like some little child. Shit. She should have trusted him because he was Laird’s friend. Oh God, what had she done. It was as if everything made complete sense now. She trusted Laird already. The truth was sobering. She was just afraid and Laird knew it! She groaned at the realization and wanted to puke. What had she done? Would Laird ever forgive her?
Jake smiled. “Yes, I am. You know Laird is a Master and that Lania is…You should have assumed that I am and that I know what I am doing when I take your life in my hands. Laird knows what he’s doing when he takes your life in his hands, and don’t think for a moment that he doesn’t every time he is with you.”
Layle lowered her gaze and placed her hands in her lap. What she and Laird shared was a simple dominance, nothing compared to what it could be. She would never be able to get past her fear of those masks. She clenched her hands into tight balls. She would, but there was only one way to do that. Face them.
Jake hooked a finger under her chin. “Every time a Master takes you into a scene, you are giving him the trust of your very being.”
Layle looked at him. He was right. She had trusted Jamal and Dedrick every time she had gone into a scene with them. Laird was behind those scenes. He was the one to place her with those two, and she had trusted his judgment from the get-go even if she hadn’t been fully aware. He had made sure she was taken care of and that her needs were met.
Jake released her and shifted the car. “I’m thinking the wifey needs something with chocolate, maybe a cream-filled puff thing?”
Layle smiled, turning her attention back to the road. “I had a friend who had a hankering for pickles stuffed in those cream-filled pastries. She would suck out the cream then shove the pickle in, and it would taste so good.”
Jake glanced at her. That was odd. How would she know it would taste so good? He was sure Laird said she had no children. “What did she have?” he asked, weaving through traffic to assure he would get the proper lane for that donut place his wife loved so much.
“She lost it in the second trimester…fell down a flight of stairs.” She looked out the window, jaw clenching. It had been a miracle she had survived that one. Who would have thought a baby would be conceived from such horrible circumstances. She had tried to abort it, but she couldn’t. He mind cried out that it was so wrong to kill a life that had no say in being put in her belly. It had hurt when she lost it, too. That baby had kept her sane through the aftermath of what had happened to her. Had it not been for that baby, she probably would have done the unmentionable.
Silence followed them until they reached the donut shop. Jake ordered every cream-filled pastry he could find, and then on the way back to Laird’s, he stopped at a convenience store and grabbed a jar of pickles. “Just in case…I will take advice from anywhere,” he uttered, handing her the jar of pickles.
Layle smiled, handling the jar. “You think Laird will be ma
d at me?” she whispered as he headed back the way they had just come. Real fear and anxiety struck her then. What if he turned her away? What if he told her to just leave and never be a part of his life ever again?
Jake shrugged. “I think Laird is in shock…The last time he thought he was in love it ended badly.”
Layle looked at him. “Mr. Laird Roan in love, ha, I couldn’t imagine him in love with anyone, and he isn’t in love with me. I’m just something he thinks he can fix.”
“Laird Roan doesn’t fix anyone, sweetie. He helps and lets them go. You, he has no intention of letting go. He wouldn’t have bothered going to your apartment and sleeping alone that first night. If he wanted you as a plaything, you would be just that. Playthings do not get ransomed, nor do they get away with shooting him and then deserting him,” he offered.
Layle grunted. Did Laird tell everyone his business? Guilt filled her. Would Laird ever forgive her for her behavior?
“Look, Layle, Mekaila, whatever your name is. One thing Laird does not do is get involved with, twenty-whatever-year-old little girls. In no way does he try to master them. You are so blind it’s getting annoying.” He did a quick look around and looked at her. “Ready to brace yourself?” he asked.
Layle groaned, shaking her head. “I would prefer we didn’t take that corner at that speed,” she voiced, not that it mattered. He would do what he wanted anyway.
Jake grinned and ran his big thick hand down the back of her head in a comforting, petting way. “No worries, sweetie. I have no intention of crashing. Viv would bring me back and kill me in the worst kind of way.”
Layle looked at him. She released a deep breath and grunted. “I didn’t agree to come back here with you,” she reminded him as he sped up.
Jake chuckled. “No you didn’t, did you…I guess when I get around the corner I’ll have to turn around and take you home then. Poor Laird and Lania stuck with my moody wife. Hope she hasn’t killed them or scared them away yet?”
Layle inhaled a sharp breath as they whizzed by a little car that nearly veered into their lane. “See, even the stupid people think they can take this corner!” she uttered, gripping the pickle jar tighter. “Shit, we’re going to crash and I’m going to get smothered in pickle juice!” she grumbled.
Jake chuckled. “You’re cute…You always this mouthy with Laird?” he asked as he easily eased around the corner.
Layle grunted, offering him a one-fingered greeting.
“I did see that, and rest assured the last time my wife was that cheeky with me her ass was red for weeks…Oh and she’s fine with me spanking other women…Since you don’t want to be under Laird’s watch I guess that leaves you open for punishment from any Master, don’t it.”
Layle looked at him with bug eyes. “You wouldn’t!” she uttered in disbelief. Her ass clenched at the thought of this hulk of a man spanking her.
Jake laughed out. It was deep and rich. “Oh you bet your pretty little ass I would. I bet you have fine pale skin under that skirt that would just make the red glow.”
Layle blushed. No man was allowed to spank her but Laird! Oh wait, no! No man was allowed to spank her!
Chapter Thirteen
Layle near ran up the front steps away from the crazy man. How dare he threaten to spank her! She clutched the jar of pickles as he held the box of sweets in one hand and had his other hand shoved in his pocket. Shit, the man oozed calmness. That alone made her even more nervous. It also made her wonder how close he and Laird really were.
Laird, Lania, and Vivian all smiled as the two entered. “Woman, you will give my wife the jar of pickles and apologize for your rudeness, and then you will go sit your little ass in Laird’s lap, or so help me I’ll remove this belt and swat you,” he ordered.
Vivian raised a pretty brown eyebrow. It had been a long time since she had heard her handsome man use that tone with another woman. Someone had been a naughty girl.
Layle held the jar out to her. “I’m sorry for my rudeness earlier, Vivian.” She glanced at Jake. “Your husband’s an ass,” she whispered in a scathing voice. Well, she tried to whisper but it came out sounding more like a friend jesting with another.
Vivian burst out in a fit of giggles. “Lean over and hug me. I’m not moving from this very spot,” she shared.
Layle did as instructed. Vivian held her in a rather strong grip. “You owe Laird an apology, little one. I’m not going to tell you when, where, or how, but you keep in mind you owe him an apology,” she whispered against her ear. Layle looked at the woman a moment before pulling away. Jake hunkered down next to his beautiful wife and opened the box. Vivian grinned. “Swear, Jake, you’re trying to make me fatter,” she grumbled, looking over the selection. Her hand reached for one then darted for another.
Layle bit her lip in nervousness and turned back to Laird and then glanced at Lania. She wasn’t instructed to say sorry to Lania nor address her in any manner, so she went straight to Laird and looked at his lap. She wasn’t sure if she could even do this, after all she had done to him. She cringed in mortification.
“Belt’s getting a tad bit tight over here,” Jake grumbled.
Layle grunted. Maybe he should stop eating then! She scowled at no one in particular, feeling like a fool. She settled onto Laird’s lap and waited. Surely he would hold her? Move her until he was more comfortable? Something! Nothing, he sat as rigid as she did. She grunted, looking back at him. He was indeed mad. She crossed her arms over her chest and grunted again. Well, she did as she was told. It was his move next.
Lania sighed. “I’m going to go check out your dungeon, Laird, heard you got a few more pieces,” she murmured. There was no way she was going to watch this. She couldn’t watch Layle struggle in front of everyone. Nor could she watch Laird punish Layle this way.
Laird nodded. He and Layle needed to talk, and she was in no way a person to have this kind of conversation with spectators. He shot Jake a look and hoped he understood he needed alone time with Layle.
Jake rose and held a hand out to his wife. “Thinking these two brutes never took you to the washroom did they?” he asked.
Vivian giggled. “Laird was cute about it. Lania laughed at me. You should spank her, and I mean spank her hard. Laughing at a pregnant woman who can barely squat, she’s so mean.”
Lania laughed over her shoulder. “What, it was funny as hell, Viv. I can’t wait till I get knocked up and can’t take a piss,” she called, disappearing down the hall.
Viv giggled. “It was funny,” she murmured in afterthought.
Laird waited as Layle sat stiffly on his lap. This was her move and nothing he did now would help. He could hug her and assure her she was safe with him, and he forgave her behavior, but she needed to take the first step and let him offer her his assistance.
“I didn’t want to be here,” she grumbled, not looking at him. Instead she focused on the pretty stones that made up his nicely arrayed deck area. She couldn’t stand sitting here on his lap and him not saying anything! God, why wasn’t he talking? He always did the talking. She was here to serve him!
“I have a driver if you want to leave,” he offered.
Layle grunted. Was that what she wanted? Was that what he wanted? She slumped further. She closed her eyes and eased back against his chest without thought. After excruciating moments of silence she finally spoke. “I don’t want to leave,” she whispered. And she didn’t she didn’t want to ever leave his side again. She should never have left him at the hospital. “Do you want me to leave?” she asked, fear ripping through her that his answer might be yes. Technically she wasn’t supposed to have been here. She hadn’t talked to him for weeks after she had rudely left him.
Laird pushed her to the floor, pride filling him when she went straight to her knees and bowed her head to him. “I never want you to leave…I also want you to want to be here,” he replied, clasping her hands in his.
Layle looked down at his large hands. She had always loved his hands, s
trong, big, and thick. The things he could do to her with these hands. She peeked at him. She opened her mouth then closed it. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she struggled with her thoughts. Her hands escaped his and she cupped his face, her tiny thumb skimming across his lower lip. “I can’t do the whole submissive thing twenty-four-seven.” She blurted the words. “I want that part of the lifestyle, but not all the time.” Her hands trembled and tears wanted to break free and flow.
Laird nodded. He had never asked that of her.
Layle bit her lower lip, and her gaze met his. “You scare me…scare me in what you make me feel. I know I deserve to feel things…” She moaned in confusion.
Laird captured her hand in his.
Layle looked back at him. “I’ve wanted you since the first day I stepped into your club,” she gushed. Laird smiled, bringing her hand to his lips, kissing her fingertips. “Not just to be my Master…I want to feel more. I want to hug and hold and have you make love to me. I want to make love to you.” She teared up. What the hell was she talking about? She didn’t know anything about love or having a man make love to her!
Laird released a relieved breath. He kissed her temple. “Layle…nothing’s going to happen overnight, as much as I would like. I will not force a relationship on you.” His hands cupped her face, and he looked her in the eyes. “We both need to move slowly. We both need to keep open minds. We need to focus on one relationship before completing the other.”
Layle stared at him in awe. Relationship, did he mean like dating, like normal people? She opened her mouth to ask.
Laird pressed a finger over her lips, silencing her. “I want you to meet my parents. Shit I want to meet yours. I even want to get to know this Harley of yours better. I want to take you to the friggin’ movies and out for mushy little walks on the beach.”
Layle chuckled. Laird Roan walking on the beach hand in hand with her? That would be a sight to see.
