The Romance of Nick and Layla (Parts 1-3)

by Cierlak, Crystal

  I could barely catch my breath as he increased his pace, grinding into me feverishly. My leg wrapped around him and my hands slid down his back in every effort to feel more of him. My head was swimming in emotion as I came closer and closer to my release.

  "Tell me you love me," he whispered, caressing my face in his hands.

  "Nick..."

  "No, just tell me Layla. Please say it."

  My insides tightened and then convulsed around him, putting me in pure orgasmic ecstasy. My back arched again as I cried a loud moan. I heard a dangerously erotic moan escape Nick’s mouth as he thrust in me, but he didn’t come. I fell back on the bed, pulling Nick down with me, his chest gasping for air in tandem with mine.

  He tried again to kiss me, but I turned my face away. He mimicked my movements, again trying to kiss me.

  "Nick, no."

  "Why not?"

  "Because."

  "You’ll let me make love to you but you won’t let me kiss you?"

  "I told you. It’s just sex." He moved inside me again, the sensation jarring against my body as I came down off the high, still shaking inside.

  "This is just sex?"

  "Yes," I cried.

  "Doesn’t feel that way to me." He perched his upper body up on his elbows around my face. He ground into me again, making me moan. "This feels like love to me."

  "Really? Because all it feels like to me is a penis inside me." He flinched at my words but I didn’t care. It had to be about sex, not love. I couldn’t take any more love.

  "Why do you refuse to tell me you love me, Layla?"

  "You know why."

  "Tell me why."

  "Because."

  "Because why?" He ground his hips into me again, making me shudder.

  "Jesus, Nick. Either fuck me or get out. I can’t take this any longer."

  "Love, Layla. Love."

  "Fuck you, Nick," I whispered, just before he pulled out and thrust back into me again. "Oh God, fuck me," I whispered again.

  He held my face in his hands so that I couldn’t move even if I tried. His lips lingered above mine, tempting me. "Not until you tell me that you love me."

  His body was driving me insane. Grinding into me. Making me want him all over again. And again. And again. His lips covered my lips, gently sucking back. They finally interlocked between mine and I couldn’t deny him anymore. My lips parted willingly and he filled my mouth with his tongue, vigorously kissing me. I was quickly losing the battle. If I didn’t give in soon...

  He had found a regular pace inside of me and I complied with every thrust, every movement he made inside me. My defenses were weakened. He was the only one that could do that to me. And suddenly... I couldn’t hold back from him any longer.

  "Nick, I’m pregnant."

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Nick’s movements stopped completely. My eyes opened wildly, searching for answers in his face. He looked stunned.

  "Why’d you stop?" I asked impatiently. He was still inside me, still ready to take me over the edge again.

  "What’d you say?"

  "I asked why you stopped."

  "No, before that Layla."

  What? What did I say? "I don’t know. Come on, Nick. Fuck me."

  "After that!" he said impatiently.

  Dear Lord. "What is your problem, Nick? You wanted this so let’s finish it. Come on, baby."

  "You said you’re pregnant."

  No I didn’t. "What?"

  "You said, just now, ‘Nick I’m pregnant.’"

  "Don’t be ridiculous!"

  "Are you?"

  "Am I what?" I was furious. I thrust my hips up towards him, unable to move any other way beneath the weight of his body on top of me. But he did nothing in response.

  "Stop bullshitting around, Layla! Are you pregnant?" He looked absolutely pissed off. And shocked.

  I inhaled deeply. "Do you think we could finish this conversation later? We were kind of in the middle of something."

  But instead he pulled out of me, crawled off the bed and started to put his clothes back on. I reached down for his shirt before he could and slid it over my body. I sat up on the bed and watched him collecting himself back together. The mood may have died but my arousal hadn’t; and clearly, neither had his.

  "What are you doing?" I asked, irritation coating every syllable of my voice. "Look, just forget whatever the hell it was I said, get back on the bed and finish what you started!"

  He turned and gave me a sharp look. "Are you pregnant Layla?"

  And there it was: the moment of truth. I sighed and my eyes absently roamed down my body, giving me away.

  "Jesus, you are pregnant!" he moaned. I caught him eyeing me, the extra weight around my abdomen evident as I sat in front of him, dresses in only a tee shirt. "And here I just thought that you had gained a few pounds."

  I could forgive the unintended insult. "I have gained a few pounds, Nick. And a baby." I watched as he paced the room, running his hands through his hair. I already knew what he was thinking and I would be damned if he accused me of that. "And yes."

  "Yes what?" But he knew what I meant.

  "It’s yours." I couldn’t believe I had let it slip that I was pregnant. Of all the stupid things to do! But his hands were touching me and... Oh God. I had lost myself in the moment.

  "When were you planning on telling me?"

  "What the hell are you getting all upset about? You’re not the one carrying it."

  "No, but I am the father! Jesus Christ, Layla!" he yelled.

  "What?" I yelled back.

  "You weren’t even going to tell me, were you? You were just going to divorce me, leave without any warning and raise the kid on your own, weren’t you?" His face was beet red and his eyes were flaring.

  "As opposed to what, Nick? Telling you so that we could get back together for the sake of an unborn child? No thank you!"

  "Why the hell not?" He looked at me with mad eyes.

  "Because then you’d just be with me out of obligation. So that you could raise this damn child. And where would that leave me? Unhappy, attached and committed for the next two decades!"

  "Fuck you, Layla!" he spat, his words and his face full of anger and hatred.

  I stopped completely dead. My eyes widened in shock and I just stared at him. "What did you say to me?" Surely I had heard wrong.

  "I said fuck you!" he shouted again, though not nearly as loud as the first time he said it.

  I was completely stunned. Never once had Nick spoken to me like that. I didn’t know what to say but I kept my eyes glued to him. It took a moment for me to register what was happening. Nick was crying. Not sad-crying; anger-crying. And it was because of me.

  "I can’t believe you would do this to me, Layla!"

  "Do what?" I asked meekly.

  "Keep all of these secrets from me. First you leave the country without giving anyone so much as a fucking clue as to where you were. Then you come back hell bent on divorcing me, but not before you seduce me into your bed. And to top it all off, you’re pregnant! And you had no intention of telling me!"

  My head bowed in shame. Maybe even guilt... Something.

  "So tell me, Layla, what was your plan? Is there anything else you’re hiding from me?"

  I looked up at him finally and instantly regretted it, for the look on his face made reality slap me across mine. "No," I said simply.

  He was at my feet again, his hands coming to the sides of my face and gripping it tightly as he looked at me with furious, helpless eyes. "What’s going on in your head Layla?"

  " This hasn’t been easy for me, Nick. I only meant to go away for a week or two, but then I found out I was pregnant and I saw it as an opportunity."

  "Opportunity?"

  "To change. Reflect. Get back some of myself."

  "What was so wrong with the way you were?"

  "I told you already. I’ve told you many times Nick." And I would be damned if I was going to put myself in another emot
ional quandary by explaining it again. I tore his hands from my face and used the force of the motion to scoot backwards on the bed and farther away from him.

  "So why did you come back? Obviously it wasn’t for us. Or for me."

  "I came back to finish what I started."

  A flash of furry swept across his face again. "But you’re not very good at that, are you Lay? You couldn’t even... Forget it."

  "Stop it, Nick. Do you really think that your whining and bitching can salvage our marriage? It won’t."

  "Then what will? What will it take for you to not go through with his divorce? Obviously not a child."

  I shook my head. "Honestly, I don’t think anything can save us. So unless God owes you a favor..." I trailed off.

  "Then what are we going to do about this baby?"

  "Single parents raise children every day. I’m not any different."

  "And how are you planning to do that?"

  "I’m not helpless Nick. I have a home, I have means and I’m a woman. I’ve already made appointments with my doctors. I'm reading all the books on pregnancy. I’m doing fine all on my own. I don’t need your help."

  "What are you going to let my role be in all of this? Am I ever going to see my own child?"

  "Of course you will. Jesus Nick, I’m not a monster."

  "You sure about that?" he murmured.

  "Quite sure, smart ass."

  "I don’t like this Layla. Not one bit."

  "You don't have to like it. It’s just the way things are."

  "Not if I can help it."

  I didn’t like the tone in his voice. It was almost like he was threatening me. "What is that supposed to mean?"

  "I’ll fight you for custody of this child."

  I laughed ironically, much to Nick’s dismay. Didn’t he know anything? "First of all, no judge on Earth will grant custody of a newborn baby to anybody but the mother. Newborns need their mothers. You’re crazy!"

  "Not if the mother isn't stable enough to take care of a child."

  What the? "Exactly what are you implying?" I asked furiously.

  "If I can prove that you’re not stable enough to take care of a newborn baby then custody is as good as mine. After all, there are the hospital reports about you stepping in the glass you yourself broke in an emotional outburst. You disappeared for months without giving any notice. And you’ve got a temper on you like no one I’ve ever seen."

  "Like any judge would grant custody of a newborn baby to a 24-year-old celebrity that spends more money on toys for his own pleasure than most people pay on their monthly mortgage. Not to mention the fact that several months out of the year you’re on the road. What are you doing to do Nick? Change between sets at stadiums around the world? Give the baby his or her bottle in the middle of a tour bus?"

  "I’ll do whatever I can to ensure our child is brought up in the best way possible. And if that means I can’t work then fine. I’ll quit." He was so nonchalant about it that it scared me.

  "You’ll quit?" I asked incredulously.

  "Yep. I told you Layla; I won’t be a singer forever. And if raising my son or daughter means that I can’t sing for people, then fine."

  I got up from the bed and cornered him, looking into his eyes. I wasn’t as tall as he was but I certainly could be intimidating when I wanted to be. "You’d quit for a child that hasn’t been born yet, but you wouldn't quit cheating on your fucking wife?!" I yelled at him.

  His face grew somber as my words seeped into his thick head.

  "At least the child will forgive me if I make a mistake. A child would need me to take care of him or her. And a child would love her father unconditionally. Unlike her mother."

  I slapped his cheek as hard as I could. "You son of a bitch!" He held his red cheek in his hand and his eyes narrowed down at me. "You don’t deserve a child, Nick. Because you’re still a child. But since you’re so interested in making sure you provide for your child then you will have no problem playing child support and alimony."

  "Like you need it!" he scoffed angrily.

  "You’re lucky I don’t sue you for your worth, Hudson! I’d drain you so fast you’d have to put out five more albums before you could eat a decent meal again. Oh, but wait a second... Your last album didn’t exactly fly off the shelves, did it?"

  His hands grabbed my arms with such force that I nearly fell into him. He was towering over me, glaring down into my eyes. I knew I had crossed the line. We both had.

  "What are you going to do Nick? Hit me?"

  His grip on me tightened until I visibly winced in front of him. "As tempted as I am," he growled. "I never thought you could be so cruel, Layla. If this is the new you then send her back to wherever the hell she came from. Never once has any woman been as mean to me, or said anything nearly as hurtful, as what you just said."

  "Maybe they were too busy reeling from the fact that they were with the famous Nick Hudson. They wouldn’t have told you the truth. They were just using you for your celebrity."

  "And what about you?"

  "Me? No, I couldn’t care less who you were. I genuinely loved you. But now that I see what kind of man you really are - blackmailing me - I’m nothing if not disgusted with you. Now get your hands off of me before I kick you in places that you never knew existed on your body. I got what I wanted from you. Now you can exit the same way you entered."

  "Before I leave I have one more thing."

  "Well then say it and get the fuck out!"

  "I think someone should teach you a lesson on how to finish what you start."

  Harshly, he pushed me against the wall, pinning my arms above my head with one hand. With his free hand he freed himself of his clothing and thrust himself inside of me. I cried out in pain and tried to get free of his grasp, but he started moving against me, pushing me repeatedly into the wall. He was so rough with me. But at the same time, I was completely turned on by him. I managed to free my hands from his death-grip and I grabbed him by the neck, digging my fingers into his skin as my head fell back, hitting against the wall with each fast thrust into me.

  He swiftly tore the shirt off my body and began to kiss my breasts, never once breaking his pace. My hands slid down his back and firmly gripped his ass, pushing him further into me. His face surfaced from my chest and I took the opportunity to kiss him bitterly, biting his lip, biting his tongue. His hands roamed until they found my ass, and he gripped it tightly.

  "Nick.... Oh GOD!" I yelled as I came around him. I felt so dizzy by the sensation that I lost my balance, falling into his arms. The power that man possessed. He came after me, his moans muffled by my own skin. My feet found the ground before I realized that I wasn’t even standing any more. I sank down to my height, reeling as he pulled out of me.

  "This isn’t over," I threatened him huskily.

  "Damn right it isn’t," he replied before kissing me.

  When he pulled away I thought for sure we were done for the time being. That we would part ways, both pissed as all hell. But that wasn’t the case. No.

  He bent down and placed his lips so gently over my stomach that I couldn’t believe we had just fucked like we did, so violently, so passionately. He kissed my stomach tenderly, then looked back up at me. "You’re still mine. Nothing can change that. Not even your fucking divorce. Just remember that."

  I watched as he picked up his clothes and haphazardly put them back on his body. And all the while I thought up ways to get the damn bastard back.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Payback’s a bitch. And Nick was about to learn that lesson. Tonight.

  It had been two nights since Nick gave me the big fuck off and since he was leaving the next morning I knew that my plan had to go off without a hitch. And it would.

  Nick’s bodyguard always had a thing for me so it wasn’t difficult to get information out of him. And because of this tiny but crucial fact, I was able to find out where Nick would be that night.

  So I got all dressed up; I knew I l
ooked hot and if Nick wasn’t all over me then nothing would do it for him. But considering my soon-to-be-ex-husband was a hard-on in Nike’s, there shouldn’t be a problem. I’d make damn sure of that.

  I still wasn’t showing yet which gave me a huge advantage. And so, dressed in a teeny tiny gold dress that hugged in all the right places and left little to the imagination, I walked into the night club where Nick would be that night. I knew he wasn’t there yet and took the opportunity to gain the upper hand.

  It wasn’t a problem getting a guy to ask me to dance with him; I had five offers in the first three minutes I was there. I picked a drop-dead-handsome guy named Jason, who was, if it was at all possible, even more gorgeous than Nick, and the plan started. He led me out to the dance floor and wrapped his arms around me and we began to dance to the enticing beat. I didn’t mind that his eyes were all over my body. That would only make it better.

  "What’s your name?"

  "Layla," I answered nonchalantly as I danced to his rhythm.

  "Haven’t I seen you before? Like on TV or something?" he asked me. God, I hope he wasn’t using that tired line as a pick-up.

  "Maybe."

  "Whoa. You’re Nick Hudson’s wife."

  I turned and looked him dead in the eye. I matched his height inch-for-inch thanks to some killer Jimmy Choo stilettos and stared him down. "You must be mistaken. Do you want to interview me or do you want to dance?"

  He had a sexy smile, I’ll give him that much. "I want to dance."

  "Well then let’s dance." And dance we did for a good ten minutes. And that’s when the night really started.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nick enter the club. He was immediately surrounded by twenty-somethings wearing just about as much clothing as me, but he stopped short when his eyes landed on me. Yeah, look all you want, babe.

  But instead of coming over to me, he headed straight for the bar. I watched him discreetly while dancing with Jason, who had no clue of the important role he was playing right then. I watched carefully as Nick ordered a beer from the bar and then turned around to watch me.