“Fuck, Layla,” he said in her ear. “Give me an invitation.”
“You’re invited,” she told him. “Get in.”
“No, even nicer than that.”
“Get in, please.”
He chuckled behind her. “Even nicer. I know you can be very nice if you put your mind to it.”
For a few moments, Roxxy’s brain reeled. What did he mean? How could she ask any nicer?
In a fit of desperation, she reached down and pulled aside the crotch of her panties, revealing the naked pussy Andrew loved so much, now slick with her juices. “See how bad I want you, Andrew?” she said. “Please come in.”
“Fucking hell, Layla.” His hands went from her breasts to her shoulders, hooking over them and pulling her down so her wet pussy slid onto his hard cock without any further conversation.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’re so tight and wet,” he said. “How long do you think you’ll last this time before coming all over my cock again?”
She honestly didn’t know, and she was too overcome by the way he was thrusting up into her to even attempt to answer. He was packed so tight into her pussy, she could feel the pulse of his cock as he moved inside her.
It got to the point that she had to bite down on one of the hands he had on her shoulder to keep from screaming.
But he didn’t let her go, just kept thrusting into her hard and long, his strong arms squeezing her swollen breasts together, the cool air of the overhead fan making her shiver. Her exposed front side was now covered with sweat, and she could feel her naked pussy quivering, begging for even more.
As if reading her mind, he said. “You’re still with me. Is it because you’re one of those girls who needs to be released?”
Her clit responding with a throbbing scream. “Yes! Yes!” she said. “Please, touch me there.”
Andrew made a tutting sound. “My hands are too busy keeping you on my cock. You’re going to touch yourself for me, sweetheart. I’ve jerked off enough thinking about you. Let me see how you look touching yourself with me inside you.”
Her manic clit didn’t let her have any modesty, even on this point. She reached down and started working two fingers against her swollen button. The other one came up to her breasts and began to rub the nipple.
He grunted out, almost like he was in pain, and she felt him bury his face in the back of her neck. “I was wrong. I can’t watch you do that or I’m going to lose it.”
“It’s okay if you lose it,” she told him. Then her swollen pussy lips clenched around her fingers and the other hand tightened over her nipple as she showed him exactly what she meant by losing it.
“Oh, Andrew!” She went rigid, then she shuddered to a conclusion, every body part tingling with amazing sensation. It felt like her heart had burst open and released confetti.
And throughout it all, Andrew held her close, as if her coming gave him more pleasure than his own release, which she distantly noted still hadn’t happened.
“Layla, that was so fucking hot,” he said, coming out of her. “Turn over. I want to see you right now.”
She turned over and was taken aback by the softness in his eyes, like he was in awe of having her there, in his bed. But not because she was a worldwide celebrity, just because she was a woman and he wanted her.
He looked at her for so long, she began to think that was how he would spend the morning, despite the lingering evidence of his continued arousal. But then he cupped her around the back of her neck and captured her mouth in a slow kiss that burned all the way down to her womb.
She had sung about these kinds of kisses before, but never had she received one quite like this. The way Andrew explored her mouth with his, it wasn’t like anything she’d ever felt before. And soon she was feeling hot and bothered below, becoming newly desperate to have him inside her again.
“You didn’t come,” she said against his mouth. “Do you need another invitation? Because believe me, the last one still stands.”
He laughed against her lips. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I intend to take full advantage of your beautiful body, but I’m going to take my time.”
He slipped inside of her, and as if to illustrate his point, began slowly rolling his hips into her. “No rushing me. If it takes all morning, it takes all morning.”
Feeling bold, she asked, “But how about if my clit needs extra attention again? After all, I am one of those girls.”
“No more touching yourself either,” he said, with a smile. “Tell your clit not to worry. I’ll take care of it.” He kissed her again. “When I’m ready to.”
As if to illustrate his point, his rolling strokes became so slow that by the time each one was done, nothing inside her pussy had been left untouched, including her clit.
She closed her eyes, wondering how she could become so hot for him again after just having the best orgasm of her life. Later she would regret this action, closing her eyes and letting him completely take over. If she’d kept them open and if she hadn’t been so sex drunk, she might have been able to stop him before he did what he did next.
But as it was, he caught her completely by surprise when he flipped her over onto her back.
One minute she was feeling like the most cherished woman in the world, and the next, she was sixteen again, with a sweaty record label head lying on top her, using his weight and muscle to pin her down beneath him.
“No! No!” she screamed.
“What? Now, you want to act like you didn’t know what this meeting was all about?” the exec asked. “You think the head of a major music label is just going to invite you up to his office after everybody else has gone home because he really wants to hear you audition?”
That was exactly what she had thought, exactly what her mother had told her this meeting would be about. She just had to sing a couple of songs for him a capella, Shirelle had said, prove she had true talent, and that her demo hadn’t been a fluke.
She hadn’t been prepared when the executive had invited her to sit down on his leather couch and then unexpectedly took a seat right beside her, uncomfortably close. But she didn’t want to disappoint Shirelle, who had told her they needed this contract to finally make their dreams come true.
“Be nice,” she’d told Roxxy, who was known to clam up or withdraw when she got too nervous. “Keep on smiling and talking to him. I don’t care how nervous you are.”
So that was what she did when the exec sat so close to her, the sides of their legs were touching. She even managed to keep her smile pasted on when he put a clammy hand on her bare knee.
But when he’d started kissing her, and pushed her back into the couch, she couldn’t pretend anymore, even after he chastised her for not knowing the deal from the beginning.
“No! No!” she screamed again when he grabbed the hands that were trying to push him off and pinned them above her head.
But it was too late. He’d gotten underneath the short school skirt she was wearing and ripped into her, tearing into her hymen without another thought.
“Get off me! Get off me!” Hot tears of pain and frustration filled her eyes, and she bucked her hips, trying to dislodge him, even though she could barely move under his heavy weight.
Somehow she managed to work one hand free and scratch his face, so hard it left tracks of blood.
In the original version, he’d screeched, then raised up and punched her in the face, once, twice, three times, so she could do little more than loll her head to the side in a daze as he finished on top of her, seemingly even more turned on by the fact that her face was now a bloody mess. It’d taken weeks for her face to heal, but her mother had been overcome with glee. Apparently this had been much better than her suggestion of being nice to the label head, because he’d agreed to a two-record deal to avoid Shirelle pressing charges on her daughter’s behalf.
But in this new version, after Roxxy scratched him, she felt his weight lift off of her. Suddenly she was free to move, and when she came back to herself�
��
…There was Andrew, holding his face, which she’d scratched bloody, and looking at her like she was an alien.
“I’m sorry,” she croaked, barely able to get the words past the lump in her throat. “I didn’t mean to—“
She couldn’t finish the sentence. Instead, she scrambled out of bed and ran out of the room and into her own, locking the door behind her.
It took a good, long time curled up in a fetal ball with her back to the door for her to calm down enough to crawl into bed. And even after she did, she continued crying so hard, she thought she might choke on her own tears.
Why couldn’t she just be normal? Like the real Layla? Like every other woman in the world who could handle something as mundane as the missionary position—especially after the having the orgasm of her life with the sexiest man she had ever known.
She fell asleep sobbing and wishing she were anyone under the sun but her own miserable self.
CHAPTER 16
PART of what made Andrew a natural born leader was, unlike his brother, he knew how to talk to people and was good at figuring out solutions all parties involved could work with. That’s why he’d been appointed the head of Global Initiatives at Sinclair Industries, and that’s why he’d been able to put a nearly bankrupt dude ranch into the black in under year, not to mention gather enough capital to buy the town it was housed in.
That afternoon, he met with the owner of the Ride ‘Em Cowboy and presented him with plans to renovate the motel in ways that just might help everyone forget a dead body had been found there less than a day ago. He set rolling grand opening dates for five new guest ranches. And he even got through a bit of the paperwork for the camp he was planning for underprivileged kids.
However, Andrew “Big Idea” Sinclair had no idea how to handle the ex-girlfriend who had unexpectedly come back into his life. It was so bad that when his phone had erupted later in the afternoon with another call from Nathan, he’d been tempted to answer it, if only to question his brother about what had happened to Layla.
But then he’d sent the call to voicemail at the last minute, thinking about that morning. When he’d gone to her door and heard her ragged crying on the other side, like her heart was breaking, he’d wanted nothing more than to gather her up in his arms and reassure her everything would be all right.
But it was more than obvious the last thing she needed was any more attention from him. He’d never had a girl freak out on him like that. For a moment, it had been hard to believe this was Layla he was dealing with. She had morphed into a crazed animal so quickly. One minute she had been begging him for more and the next, she’d scratched up his face.
He’d decided to let her cool off in her room. He ate breakfast and then went into his office to work. But when he came out, he found her door open and Layla gone from the house, as if she’d been waiting for him to turn his back just long enough for her to sneak out.
She didn’t come home for lunch either, and when he tried to catch her at the staff table during dinner hours, he was told she’d already come through, grabbed some food, and left.
This was how he came to find himself waiting in the dark hay barn for a woman who obviously didn’t want to see him. She came through the barn door just fifteen minutes after the bonfire ended, which meant she had come straight there, with no plans to attempt to face him back at the house.
In fact, she came to a stuttering stop when her flashlight landed on him standing next to the haystack where they’d slept two nights ago.
“Andrew!” she said.
“You sound more surprised to see me than I am to see you,” he said.
She lowered the flashlight. “I thought it would be better if we spent tonight apart.”
“Better for who?” he asked her. “Because I recollect telling you clearly last night you’d be sleeping in my bed from now on.”
The moon wasn’t very bright that night, so he could no longer see her in the dark barn. But he heard the way her voice trembled when she said, “I didn’t think you’d want me there. After what happened this morning.”
And his anger melted like a stick of butter. “Listen, Layla,” he said, coming to stand close to her, though he was careful not to touch her because it was obvious she was still pretty spooked. “Let me make this clear to you right now. I’ll always want you in my bed. The only reason I didn’t keep you there this morning was because you ran. Now, c’mon.”
He resisted the urge to grab her hand. Andrew had been chasing after Layla for a long time, first in college, then right before she chose his brother over him, and now he’d been forced to all but hunt her down for the third night in the row. But at that moment, with the two of them standing there face to face, he knew it had to be her decision to step out of the dark barn with him.
He let out an inward sigh of relief when she took his hand and walked with him out to the dirt road that led back to his house.
But this time he only let about five minutes pass in silence before he said, “You swear to me Nathan didn’t hurt you like that?”
She shook her head frantically. “No, this is something that happened a long time ago.”
“Before you met me?” he asked.
“When I was sixteen.” She kept her eyes on the dirt road in front of her.
“And that’s the real reason you didn’t want us to have sex when we were going out in college, because of what happened when you were sixteen?”
She looked away from him and mumbled. “Yeah, something like that. It’s stupid and it was a long time ago. And as you saw before I went crazy on you, it doesn’t have to be a big deal when it comes to sex, but missionary sort of triggers it, especially when a guy is lying on top of me.”
“Has Nathan ever triggered it?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ve been pretty good at sticking with positions that are safe for me. I tell guys missionary’s too boring for me, and they usually believe me. Most of them think it’s kind of sexy.”
Andrew’s mouth thinned at the idea of other guys, especially ones like Nathan, too dim to see through Layla’s act in bed. “I’m not most guys,” he said.
“I know you aren’t,” she answered. “I’ve never lost control the way I did this morning, even when I’ve had too much to drink. Usually I don’t even close my eyes, because I know what could happen if a guy flips me on my back.”
They arrived at the house then, and she waited until they’d walked up the steps of the wrap-around porch and Andrew had let them in before finishing with “I’m really sorry, Andrew.”
“No,” he said, suddenly pressing her into the nearest wall and claiming her lips with a kiss. “Don’t apologize. Don’t ever apologize to me again for that. It’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault but the bastard who raped you when you were sixteen. I don’t suppose you want to tell me his name.”
She shook her head sadly. “It wouldn’t matter if I did. He died of cancer two years ago, so it’s too late for any kind of revenge.”
Andrew went quiet at that reveal. Disappointment coursed through him, as at that moment he wanted nothing more than to find the man who had done this to his Layla and beat him to a bloody pulp.
Misreading the look on his face, she laid a hand on his shoulder. “But please don’t worry, okay? I’m not ever going to let myself freak out like that again. I’ll make sure to keep my issues out of the bedroom from now on.”
The look in her eyes was pleading with him to let the uncomfortable subject drop, but he shook his head.
“No.”
“No?” she said, confusion in her voice.
“No,” he repeated. “I already told you. I’m not like most guys. I’m not going to force you to have sex with your eyes open all the time just to make sure I don’t accidentally trigger you. And sweetheart, you drive me out of my mind with lust, so I can’t guarantee I won’t forget again.”
“I don’t understand,” she said. “That’s the only way I can have sex with any kind of guarant
ee I won’t freak out. If you’re trying to say that’s not good enough for you…”
“I’m not trying to say that’s not good enough for me. I’m telling you straight out plain it’s not. I was in a dishonest marriage for years, I’m not going to start out with you like that.”
“But we’re not married.”
He gave her a sharp look, but then decided not to say the word that immediately popped into his mind: “yet.” It had been less than a week, and she was already spooked enough.
Instead he held out his hand to her again. “C’mon Layla.”
This time she took it without hesitation, but she did ask, “Where are we going?”
Andrew actually managed to smile at her despite the tension, thick in the air between them. “To bed.”
CHAPTER 17
ROXXY had been through a lot over the last week: finding Mabel’s body, discovering Dexter’s betrayal, letting herself get triggered by Andrew. But somehow nothing that had happened to her so far seemed as scary as following Andrew up to his bedroom.
He was moving, yes, but in a way that reminded her of a marble statue, like he was made of resolve instead of flesh.
When they got to his room, she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself until he said, “Get naked and sit down on the bed.”
So she did. Then to her consternation, he sat down right beside her.
“That day in the truck, you were nervous because I was sitting so close. This is how it started out with him, right?”
“Funny, I thought I did a pretty good job of covering how nervous I was on the ride,” she said.
He gave her that sad smile again. “No, it’s not funny, Layla, and I need you to tell me what happened.”
She swallowed, trying to get some moisture down her dry throat. “Yeah,” she admitted. “He sat next me, just like you’re doing. That’s how it started. Then he put his hand on my knee.”
To her surprise he placed his hand on her bare knee. “Like this? Whoa, sweetheart, relax,” he said, when she seized up with fear. “We’re going to sit here like this for a little while. I want you to look at my hand and realize it belongs to me, a man who cares deeply about you, not to your attacker.”
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