Chapter 25
Like I said, this woman makes me irrationally feral.
Did I intend to just stake a claim while she’s wrapped around me in my bed? No.
Am I remorseful for blurting it out? Fuck no.
I’ve never been more sure in my life that this woman is mine.
From the way her pupils blow out with lust, I think Layla enjoys knowing that she’s mine. Her hands find my waist, grabbing the hem of my joggers. “Get these off. Hurry up and fuck me then, Max. If I’m yours, show me.”
God damn.
I fidget around to help her push my pants and boxers down, then settle between her legs again. I’m notched at her opening when a thought occurs to me. “Layla.”
“Hmm?” she murmurs, reaching up to run a hand through my hair. Her nails scrape along my jawline, through my scruff, and I close my eyes momentarily in pure bliss. “Max, focus.”
“Sorry. I can’t think when you scratch me,” I mutter.
Layla smiles. “I’ll have to remember that for when I want something.”
I chuckle. “I said you’re mine.”
“You did.”
“Do you know that you’re mine?”
She looks puzzled. “I don’t understand the question.”
“Do you agree that you’re mine? A relationship? Monogamous?”
“Max,” she whispers, understanding dawning. “This is complicated. You know that.”
I shake my head. “I’m not talking about jobs or the team. I’m talking about you and me. Everything else will fall into place. But we need to be in agreement that we’re in this together. No other guys. No dating apps. Just us.”
Her eyes dance between mine. I know what I’m asking. I want her to choose me. Not Ground Man. Not anyone else. Me.
“Okay,” she whispers.
“Yeah?” I ask, letting out a relieved breath.
“Yeah.” Layla gives me a hesitant smile. “If you’re asking for the reason I think you are, you should know I’m on birth control.”
“Thank fuck,” I mutter, grabbing her knee.
Yanking it up by my hip, I slide home, groaning as her hot pussy snugly pulls me in.
God. It’s been years since I’ve fucked without a condom, and it’s possible I’d forgotten how spectacular it feels.
Every bit of her pussy twitches and squeezes me, making me feel like I might blow my load at any second.
Once I’m fully seated, my eyes find hers.
“Do you know how good your pussy feels? How perfect it fits me? You were made to take me, baby.”
“You were made to fill me,” she replies, whimpering as I pull almost all the way out, before I quickly push back in. I begin a steady pace, slamming into her as I watch her expression.
“I can’t believe this is only the third time I’ve been inside you,” I grunt.
“Second time,” she pants.
“What?”
“It’s only the second time,” she replies, grabbing my neck and yanking me down to kiss her.
“I said what I said,” I mumble against her lips. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I’ll tell her the truth and hope like hell she forgives me for keeping it from her.
Sounds of sex permeate the room as I pummel into Layla, her cries of pleasure only heightening my fervor to make this the best orgasm of her life.
Sitting up, I turn her, spinning her legs in front of me without letting my cock slide out, then grab her hips to bring her to her hands and knees.
Latching a hand into her hair, I fuck her harshly, only vaguely recognizing when she cries out that she’s coming.
Black spots dot my vision as my stride falters, an orgasm of epic proportions barreling toward me.
With a roar, I empty inside Layla, collapsing on top of her as I come.
Sliding just barely to the side, I don’t pull out, wanting to keep this connection as long as possible. We don’t speak as we both catch our breath, but the silence doesn’t make me uncomfortable. Rather, with Layla, it feels like it should. Like I’m coming home to the one person who matches me.
And that’s how I fall asleep, still buried inside her. The last thought I have before sliding into unconsciousness is how I hope she doesn’t break my heart.
When I wake up alone the following morning, I’m incredibly disappointed, and oddly pissed off. Looking at my clock on my nightstand, I find it’s just after seven. Sunlight streams in from my windows, and it makes me irrationally angry. Where the hell did she go?
Jumping out of bed, I grab my discarded boxer briefs, pulling them onto my legs, then stalk out of the bedroom. The kitchen lights are on, and when I peer into the guinea pig enclosure, I find a smorgasbord of fresh vegetables for them. “Well, at least she clearly said good morning to you.”
Striding down the hallway, I find Layla’s door open, and her sitting on the bed, wrapped in a towel, and applying lotion to her legs. I let out a loud whoosh of breath, making her head pop up. “Hi.”
“You could have showered in my bathroom, you know,” I blurt out, still aggravated at waking up alone, but relieved she’s still in the apartment.
Layla looks confused, her eyes darting to her en suite. “All my stuff is in here?”
Good point. “What all do you need for a shower?”
“Is this a rhetorical question? You’ve obviously showered before, Max. You know what people use,” she says, her lips twitching as she fights a smile. Popping the lid closed on the lotion, she stands up.
“Not rhetorical, Peaches. Give me specifics.” Before I leave for New Orleans, I’m moving all of her shit into my bathroom, and if I have time, I’m moving her clothes into my closet, too.
She glances at me, her expression one of slight concern and obvious confusion. “Shampoo, conditioner, body wash, stuff for shaving. Sometimes I use a deep conditioner, and other times I use a detoxifying shampoo. What is this about? You seem a little riled up.”
Layla approaches me slowly, her hand tentatively reaching out to touch my chest. My heart beats erratically under her palm, and I find myself breathing much faster than I should be for just waking up. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Max, what’s going on?” she asks softly, stepping closer. My arms automatically band around her, pulling her entire body against mine. I’m quiet for a moment, listening to her breathing, and allowing mine to sync with hers.
“I thought you left, and I didn’t like waking up alone,” I finally admit, my voice hoarse and no more than a whisper.
“Why would you think I’d leave?” Layla inquires, even-toned as she wraps her arms around my waist.
“I worried last night was too intense for you, and you’d want to run.
That I came on too strong, and you couldn’t handle that.
” There. There it is. The root fear of why I haven’t had a long-term girlfriend in years.
Either a woman has only been interested in me for the fame and fortune, or they leave once they experience the real me.
“You didn’t scare me at all, Max,” Layla whispers. “I liked it.”
“Yeah?” I mumble against her hair.
She tilts her head up to look at me, nodding. “I did. You were intense, sure. But I liked knowing I did that. I made you lose control. And knowing you’re as gone for me as I am for you? I really liked that.”
I let out a huge breath of relief. “Thank fuck. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d scared you off. The rest of the season definitely would have been brutal.”
Layla presses her head against my chest, snuggling in closer. “We have to discuss that. We’ll need to be on our best behavior at work. Strictly professional. Not even a sneaky text or lingering gaze, alright? I don’t want to lose this job.”
“I know.”
“I have to get to the field,” she murmurs. “Meeting with one of the trainers to go over some things before you guys leave today.”
“I wish you were going with us.”
“I do too.” Layla pats me on the back as she releases me, and I begrudgingly let her out of my arms. I sit sullenly on the edge of her bed as I watch her get dressed.
“Will you do me a favor?” I ask.
“Sure.” Layla pulls on a short-sleeve Raptors tee shirt.
Grabbing her hand, I pull her between my legs. “Will you sleep in my bed while I’m gone? I’ll feel better knowing you’re there.”
Layla smiles sweetly, nodding, then leans down to press a soft kiss to my lips. It feels perfect.
She feels perfect.
On the airplane, I pull Jake aside.
“I need some help,” I tell him.
“Dude, this better be something that doesn’t involve an actual crime, looking at a suspicious mole on your ass, or determining which one of your balls is bigger.”
“What the —” I choke on my own spit. “Is there something wrong with you? Why the fuck would you jump to those three options?”
His face clams up. “No reasons. What do you need help with?”
Christ. Maybe I should ask someone else. “I need some advice on how to admit an accidental lie to someone I care about.”
Jake follows me to my seat, plopping next to me. “I need more information. First of all, how does someone accidentally lie? Either you lie, or you don’t. You’re trying to rid yourself of guilt because of a technicality.”
“Let me reword. I found out an online friend is someone I know in real life, but didn’t immediately tell her.”
Jake’s eyes bore into mine, and I can see the wheels turning. When his eyes widen comically, I wait for the explosion. “You’ve been talking to Layla online? Are you fucking serious?”
Slamming a hand over his mouth, I curse inwardly. Fuck. I didn’t think he’d assume it was Layla, and then connect the dots to figure out that I’m also talking to Layla online. “Jesus, man. Want to announce that shit to the whole fucking plane?”
He continues to mouth off behind my hand, his eyes wild as his hands swing around. I take a deep breath, waiting until he calms down. Once he’s quiet, I remove my hand.
“You good?” I ask.
He nods. “Probably a great idea to cover my mouth right then. I had a lot of pent-up anger that needed to get out. But please tell me I’m wrong. Seriously, Max. This is bad.”
Lowering my voice, I lean into him. “I didn’t know it was her.
Hell, I didn’t even know it until halfway through.
But we kept talking, and then we were talking in person, and now she’s living in my apartment, but she doesn’t know about our online history.
How the hell am I supposed to tell her without crushing everything? ”
Jake looks to the ceiling, his head shaking slowly. “When did I become the voice of reason for this team?”
“I don’t know, but now you have to help me. I’m falling in love with her, man. I can’t lose her,” I admit.
“Damn. Definitely didn’t expect that to come out of you,” Jake comments. His eyes appraise me as he asks, “Have you ever been in love?”
“No, not really. I think maybe at the time, I’d have thought I was in love. But what I feel for Layla is so different. I have to figure out a way to tell her the truth while also ensuring she stays with me.”
“And keeping both of your jobs.”
Shit. Clearing my throat, I chuckle awkwardly. “That too.”
“So you’ve got an online relationship with her, too?” Jake asks, and I nod. “Do you talk often?”
“Often enough. Why?”
“You’ve got a couple of options. You can tell her you want to meet in person, just as friends, to clear the air about your history.
Or you can tell her you only want to be friends from now on because you’ve met someone.
Or you can tell her you’re in love with someone, but you’d like to meet to say goodbye.
Oh!” he yells, snapping his fingers, and a couple of guys around us turn around to stare.
“Do you have anything of hers from that night?”
Shame burns my ears as I nod. “I may have absconded with her thong.”
“Tell her you’re in love with someone else, and to help you move forward with the love of your life, you need to clear out the things from your past. So you’d like to meet to hand over something you have of hers from your night together.”
Oh, that could work.
Thankful for wi-fi on the plane, I pull out my phone. I smile seeing her name, Layla Grace, as the contact in the app.
Me: Hey, Grace. Do you have a moment?
Layla Grace: Hi, Everett. I was actually just thinking about you. I was hoping we could talk.
Me: Oh, good. Great minds think alike.
Layla Grace: I guess that’s good. Do you want to go first?
I’m tempted to allow her to go first, hoping she’ll tell “Everett” that she can’t speak to him any longer, but I know this is all on me. In case things go badly when Layla finds out the truth, I need to tell her everything now.
Me: I haven’t been completely honest with you.
Layla Grace: Oh?
Me: Our night together rocked me. The connection I felt with you, and the chemistry, was mind-blowing. I couldn’t get you off my mind for weeks.
Layla Grace: It was the same for me.
Me: I felt like you understood my snark, and you matched my energy in the bedroom. You were a breath of fresh air.
Layla Grace: … There’s a “but” in here somewhere.
Me: You’re correct.
Me: Around the same time, I met someone.
Me: Like my experience with you, I felt completely shell-shocked. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. We work together, and seeing her all the time only heightened the feelings I had quickly grown for her.
Me: As soon as I realized I was falling for her, I should have ended our online relationship, Grace. It wasn’t fair to either of you, and I hate feeling like I’ve lied.
Layla Grace: While I appreciate your honesty, you don’t owe me an explanation. Our relationship exists only online. I’m fairly certain Everett isn’t even your name. If you feel like you’ve lied, that’s something you need to handle with the other woman.
Me: I will. I have every intention of explaining everything the moment I see her next.
Me: But it also means I have to get rid of things from my past. I have something of yours, and I’d like to give it to you.
Layla Grace: What? You couldn’t have anything of mine. Whatever it is, just throw it away.
Me: I feel like it’s imperative I give this to you in person. It’ll give us closure.
Me: I’ll be in Denver in four days.
Me: Just meet me for five minutes. I’ll give it to you, and then be on my way.
Layla Grace: Fine.
Layla Grace: But only because I’m curious to see whatever you think you have of mine. But I swear to God, Everett, if you show up with something from some other woman, I will shove it down your throat.
Me: I’ll keep that in mind.
Snorting, I turn off my phone screen, then look up at Jake. “She’s going to meet me when we get back to Denver.”
He grins broadly. “I know. I read the whole thing over your shoulder. You do a shitty job of hiding your screen. How can she not remember leaving a thong though? What the hell does she think you might have?”
No clue what Layla thinks, but I know what she has.
She has my heart.