CHAPTER 18
PLAYBOY
I wake up slowly and when I open my eyes, I notice that it’s still really fucking early. When I look through the crack in the curtains, it’s still dark out. I’m not used to falling asleep so early or easily but having Lara in my arms changed the game completely.
There was something about her warmth pressed up against me that had my body relaxing and my mind calming in a way I’m not used to. It was quiet up there. Maybe too quiet?
But I slept like a damn rock.
When I turn my head, Lara is there tucked into my side with her nose pressed against my chest and her breath fanning my nipple. It shouldn’t make my dick twitch but I’m already dripping pre-cum for her.
My Cupcake looks so peaceful when she’s sleeping. Like nothing can touch her.
I wonder what she dreams about. While I take in the way the tendrils of her hair sweep across her face, I’m tempted to reach out and brush them away. Am I ready for her to wake up though?
Honestly, I expected to feel some kind of panic. Maybe last night. Maybe right now.
But it’s not there.
I’ve always been the kind of man to have my fun with women and then walk away. No fuss. No mess. And as little drama as possible.
Would I like to avoid all of it? Of course, but I’m not stupid enough to think that life, and women, will be drama free. How would the world keep turning?
Seeing Opal on a tirade more than once, I’ve wondered if the machinery of it all is fueled with female rage and righteousness. If it isn’t then someone needs to look into it. I wonder if it would be better than wind energy or even solar.
Since I’m not panicking or filled with the need to run, I find another worry cropping up. The longer I watch Lara sleep, the farther it burrows into my mind.
Is she going to wake up and regret last night?
My heart sinks at the thought of it. It would gut me if she won’t even look me in the eye. If she avoids me. If she ignores it.
How the fuck will I deal with it?
She only offered me one night. But she did also offer for me to stay in the same breath.
I want to find hope in that nuance, but I’m a fucking coward. Shame washes over me as I do it, but I still gently pull away from her and slide from bed. I’m not sure if she needs to be up early for the bakery, but I can’t imagine I have much time if I want to leave.
My footsteps are silent as I walk into the bathroom and close the door. The light is too bright, but maybe it’s what I need. The shock of it. The brutal reality.
After splashing water on my face, I stare into the mirror for a long time. Long enough that my features start to shift into something unrecognizable.
Is that what I’m trying to do with Lara? Make her see me differently? Am I any different?
Sometimes, it feels like it.
Then I’ll remember the look on Lara’s face when I was spewing my bullshit. And the way I ignored it.
She never let me get away with it.
Could that be the point?
I flick off the light, unable to stomach my fucking face for another moment and needing to reacclimate so I don’t face plant in Lara’s bedroom. That would not make for a smooth exit.
When I step back into her room, it’s easy enough to find my clothes. I slip my jeans back on and grab my shirt.
My attention drifts back toward Lara and I sit on the edge of the bed near the bottom. I take in the way her chest rises and falls now that she’s shifted onto her back without me next to her. She’s so damn beautiful. How could I have been blind for so long?
I look toward the door and then back at her. This is my chance.
If I leave, it’ll be clean. For her.
If I leave, I won’t have to face her regret. That’s for me.
I don’t want to leave.
The moment I admit it to myself, the tension in my body eases.
I don’t want to leave.
Even if she regrets inviting me up last night.
Even if she wishes I were gone when she opens her eyes.
An alarm that sounds like a fucking Chernobyl fall-out siren starts going off. Lara jolts awake, her limbs flying so suddenly that I tumble to the floor with a loud thump. I’m sure it’s barely audible over the cacophony.
“Holy shit. What the fuck is happening?” I’m not sure if I’m yelling or whispering.
In the next second, the alarm turns off. The silence that follows has an aura to it. It rings through the room. It’s almost like the air itself is thanking Lara for turning off the racket.
Lara’s head snaps around as I stand up and rub where my elbow hit the floor. She looks at me with wide eyes.
“You’re still here?”
“Why does that surprise you?” I know I sound defensive, but damn, my heart is still pounding in my chest from the shock of that alarm.
“Has Sheriff Lyons never gotten complaints about your alarm? Holy shit,” I gasp and press a hand to my chest, “it sounded like I needed to look for the nearest bunker because nukes are about to make landfall.”
“It’s not that bad,” she grumbles.
When she looks down to find her tits out, which I was not minding, by the way, she grabs the sheet and clutches it against her chest. One side of my mouth tips into a smirk, but I don’t comment.
She can read it on my face though. I was enjoying the show.
Silence stretches between us, but it’s not as awkward as it could be. I guess I have her special brand of wake-up call to thank for that.
“Fine,” she wines and flops back on the bed. She waves her hand in a circular motion like it should be obvious. “With your road name and all, I figured you weren’t really the sleepover kind of guy.”
Maybe I should be offended, but it’s not like I can really deny it now. My road name isn’t an oxymoron like it is for some people.
“Fair point,” I admit with a chuckle as I sit back down on the bed.
“So, why did you stay?”
When I look into her eyes, there’s a softness there I haven’t seen before. Everything in me wants to grab hold of it, but I’m terrified of reaching for too much too fast.
“It looks like you were on your way.” She looks me over and sees exactly what there is to see given my half-dressed state.
“I was,” I admit because lying to her will do me no good. “I couldn’t do it.” My gaze travels to the door; it was right there. “The only reason I wanted to leave at all was because I was terrified that you’d wake up and regret last night.”
I don’t turn my head to look at her. I can’t.
The bed shifts and her fingers slide through my hair before she twists her body until she’s straddling my hips, sheet and all. One of my arms wraps around her, my palm sliding up her bare spine until I’m cradling the nape of her neck to hold her steady. Safe.
“You wanted to leave because you were afraid of me waking up and regretting having sex with you last night?” Her eyebrows pull together and the most adorable fucking crease forms right between them.
“You weren’t just freaking out because you actually spent the night in bed, not just fucking, with a woman? ”
The pout I give her is epic. “That’s just rude. You don’t need to say it like that with so much judgement.”
She laughs. She fucking laughs. When the sound gently fades, she shakes her head like I’m being silly.
Lara is completely clueless about what she does to me.
“I need to get ready for work,” there’s no real impetus to get moving in her tone.
I make a humming sound and stand up with her in my arms. “Drop the sheet,” my voice is rough and my cock is pissed that I put my jeans back on.
It was a mistake; I can see that now.
Lara’s eyes darken and she releases her death grip on it. When I arch an eyebrow, she rolls her eyes and pushes it out from between us. The moment we’re free, I stride into the bathroom and turn on the shower. After I set her down on the vanity, I grab a condom and shuck my jeans.
She snatches the condom from my hands and looks down. The way she’s looking at my cock is dangerous as fuck.
A growl comes from deep in my chest when her fingertip trails over my shaft. When she touches where my three ladder piercings run along the top, I shudder. She wraps her hand around the underside and strokes.
“Beautiful torture,” I groan and her face lights up.
Before she can make me cover her belly in cum, I pick her up under her thighs and walk right into the shower. The water rains down from above us as I press her against the tile wall.
“You’re going to need to roll that condom on, Cupcake,” I murmur against her lips.
Before she can take a breath, my mouth slams down on hers and I pry her lips open. Our tongues find each other, a dance, a fight, a surrender.
When my mouth trails along her jaw and down her neck, her breathing is ragged while she rips the condom open and sheathes me.
I grunt against the sensitive skin right below her ear, “Are you wet for me, Lara?”
“Yes,” she moans, her wet tits sliding against my chest as she arches her back.
“Good.”
It’s the only warning she gets before I fill her completely with one brutal thrust. “Fuck,” she pants out, her nails biting into me deliciously.
“I don’t want to make you late,” I grit out through my teeth, “but I’m not letting you start the day without being inside you.”
“Jettson,” she moans, her back arching and her hips moving to meet my thrusts. Her blue eyes are glazed over with bliss.
With a rotation to my hips, I slam up and pull her down, my fingers tightening their grip. Her walls tighten around me, and a flush works its way along her neck. She’s close.
“Come for me, my Cupcake,” my voice is a harsh demand, my breathing picking up as my movements become deeper, longer, and harder.
“Holy,” she gasps before mewling, “more.”
“Fuck, yes,” I growl, my pace picking up slightly.
Her thighs tense just before her orgasm pulls her under. She gasps as her head tips back against the tile and I hunch over her. The grunt that comes out of me is feral and, not for the first time, I wish I wasn’t wearing a fucking condom.
I kiss her as electricity shoots up my spine and my balls draw up. Her walls squeeze around me and I’m fucking done.
Filling her completely, the first jet of cum has stars dancing in front of my eyes. I nip at her bottom lip and swallow down the rest of her moans.
Our breaths combine as I pull away just enough. With our foreheads touching, we simply stand there for a long moment.
When she’s able, I help her stand and then wash her, and me, up quickly. But thoroughly. Because it’s not something you cut corners on. Not when it involves having my hands on my woman.
After getting dressed, we head downstairs. She doesn’t look at me like she wants to kick me out and I’m more than willing to let it ride. Why not?
I’m already up. Might as well spend my time well.
“Do you get up every morning at this time?”
“Not every morning anymore,” Lara says over her shoulder as he points to a stool and gives me a look.
I sit. Because I know that look. I used to see it in the clubhouse kitchen all the time. On the face of the Old Ladies. When we were just club brats without a fucking clue.
My eyes track her as she pulls ingredients out of the fridges first, counting to herself under her breath as she does. I think I could watch this show all damn day.
“I’ve hired a few good people, and I don’t have to be up first thing, but I do like doing it.
I like making sure everything being made is done right.
Even though I trust my employees, there’s nothing like doing it yourself.
” She chuckles and shrugs before pulling out a large container from a different fridge. “I guess I have some control issues.”
“At least you hired some people,” I point out.
“Yeah,” she sighs. “For Vanessa, honestly. She’s ten now and,” she blinks a few times and scrunches up her face, “everything is going to move faster now. I want to be able to have enough time with her.”
I want to go to her. I want to hold her. But she told me to sit.
“Come ‘ere,” my voice is low as I motion her toward me.
Lara narrows her eyes, but she does it. When she’s close enough, I wrap my arms around her and draw her between my thighs.
Her arms slide around my torso, and I try very hard not to clutch her too tightly to me. When she exhales, she lets go of a little more of her hurt.
I can feel it.
Fuck, I want to start every day like this.
In the kitchen of my woman’s bakery.
Watching her glow.