Chapter 20
20
COLE
Somehow, someway, Layla Bancroft had burrowed under my skin. I knew she was different long ago, but I refused to admit it to myself, and I didn’t know how to get her out of my system without fucking her out. I tried that—it didn’t work. It had quite the opposite effect. Now I know I can’t give her up without losing a piece of myself in the process. I know she’s here to stay, at least if I have anything to say about it. I don’t want to go back to the life I had before her. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. Layla Bancroft has consumed my world in a way that makes it impossible to go back.
She tastes like sunshine on a cloudy day. That one ray that reaches through the clouds as a reminder that the storm has passed.
I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her, even though I have no experience in that department. All I really know for sure is that I don’t want to live my life without my fiery girl in it.
The woman is every bit the fierce lioness I met in that elevator. She lives her life on her terms, but there is also a softness beneath that tough exterior that few get to see.
My blood burns a little hotter when I think about how far we’ve come. Her words from last night linger in my head.
I like you—a lot—Cole. Like, a lot a lot. I want to see more of you. I want to see where this will go, but I’m also scared.
With all her talk of being independent and not interest in a relationship, Layla is sensual and so fucking responsive. I don’t know what happened to make her the way she is, but I’m going to make it my mission to find out, and kill whoever the fucker is that hurt her.
I’ve never been one for sleepovers. Just the thought of waking up next to someone was enough to give me hives. But I find Layla’s soft breathing beside me strangely comforting. I thought the sight of her nestled in my sheets would be strange—uncomfortable—irritating, but it’s none of those things. It feels right.
I lace my hands behind my head and stare up at the ceiling. I’ve never let a woman sleep in my bed before. I know that was on her mind when we came in here last night. I should have put her mind at ease, but for some reason I didn’t want to. Layla isn’t the only one who is scared shitless by this turn of events. I may not have been hurt the way she has, but my heart still breaks just the same. This is new to both of us.
I reach over and brush a lock of hair away from her face as I examine her in the pink light of dawn peeking through the window.
A warm glow caresses her golden skin in a way that takes my breath away. She looks like a fucking angel, and the need to protect her and make her happy is almost overwhelming. I don’t know where this strange feeling is coming from. Layla doesn’t need me to protect her, but I want to if she’ll let me.
My hand drifts from her hair onto the elegant curve of her cheekbone. I trace it down to her chin, keeping my touch featherlight so as not to wake her. I want to etch every detail of her into my mind until I can close my eyes and picture her as vividly as if she were standing in front of me. Perhaps then I will understand the hold this woman has on me. How could she have branded herself so deep into my psyche in such a short amount of time?
My touch lingers against Layla’s face before I move it to her waist and pull her closer. There’s no letting her go. I know that. The hard part will be convincing her to stay.
She stirs in my arms and lets out a small, adorable yawn before her eyes flutter open and meet mine.
“Good morning.”
A smile touches my lips at her shy tone.
“Morning, beautiful. Did you sleep well?”
“Mmhmm. It wasn’t long, but once I was settled, I slept extremely well.” She stretches and snuggles closer to me.
A smile creeps over my lips. “So, you’re well-rested, then.”
“Mmhmm,” she mumbles again.
She lets out a squeal when I roll her over and pin her arms above her head.
“Oh my God, you’re insatiable.”
“When it comes to you, I am,” I murmur into her neck before I start to move down her body. “I believe I promised some pampering that I didn’t get to last night. It’s time to let me take care of you, sweetheart.”
“Cole, stop. I have to pee, and I need a shower.” She tugs on her arms. With a sigh, I let go and place a kiss on each breast before I roll off of her.
“Fine, go pee. Let me run you a bath when you are done. I wasn’t kidding about the pampering.”
She scampers off the bed and bolts for my ensuite, giving me a lovely view of her perfect ass before the door closes behind her. When the door opens again, she stops in the doorway and bites her lip. “How is it that I never saw this side of you? I’m not complaining, but I’m usually more astute than that.”
I grin as I slip my hands behind my head, giving her the entire picture. “It was always here for you to see, sweetheart, you just had to want to look.” I waggle my hips making my cock sway from side to side.
She rolls her eyes and chuckles but doesn’t move. “That’s not what I’m talking about, you idiot.” Her mood sobers as she slowly saunters toward me, absolutely comfortable in her nakedness. My eyes drink her in from head to toe. The woman is perfection. From her messy dark hair that flows down her back to her mesmerizing stare, her kissable lips, and lower…her golden skin, those pert breasts, flat stomach, shaved pussy, beautifully rounded hips and ass, and then those mile-long shapely legs.
“You’re perfect,” I mutter as I reach for her. I don’t think she hears me, or at least she doesn’t let on that she does.
“I’m sorry about last night…or this morning.”
I sit up and drop my feet to floor, pulling her between my parted legs. “We’ve already done that. Let’s move on. Let’s move on to the pampering.” I kiss her between her breasts and slap her ass. She yelps.
“Cole, I’m trying to be serious here.”
“So am I. I happen to take pampering very fucking seriously,” I say as I head into the bathroom and turn the faucet to get the tub started. I’ve never used this tub before. I’m more of a shower kind of guy, but my designer said it was a must-have—that women love it. I guess I’m about to find out if she was right. I dump in some of the vanilla bubble bath that she also insisted I needed and then move over to the toilet to take care of my own business.
Layla has followed me in here but as soon as she sees what I’m about to do, she disappears back through the door. I chuckle. She peeks back in when she’s sure I’m finished. The tub is almost full, so I hold out my hand. “Shall we?”
“You’re going to take a bath with me?” she asks incredulously as she places her hand in mine and steps into the steaming water. She hisses as she settles herself. The room heats as steam fills the air. Layla is looking up at me, but I can already see her starting to relax.
“Scoot forward, I’m getting in. This is part of the pampering service.”
She does as she’s told, and I step into the bath behind her. Water sloshes over the side as I sit down and pull her back between my legs. She leans against me. I smile and slide down a little deeper, closing my eyes. This is nice. Why haven’t I done this before? Because it wouldn’t have been with her.
Fuck, I’m supposed to be pampering her. I grab the spongy loofah thing out of the basket the designer left that contained the bubble bath and a bunch of other shit I never use and pour some body wash onto it. I start with Layla’s shoulders and move down her arms. I take care to gently clean every part of her. I even wash her hair with patience and care that I never knew I had.
When I’m finished, Layla is lying back against my chest once more. Her eyes are closed, I think she enjoyed my pampering. She moans when my fingers find her nipples and start to play.
“You like that, baby?”
“Mmhmm, keep doing that?” she murmurs.
I do as instructed but slide one hand down her flat stomach until my fingers reach her core. She automatically parts her legs, giving access to what I want. I kiss her neck as I play. Her breathing increases and she starts to grind against me as I sink two fingers deep into her slick pussy.
“Cole.”
“Shhh,” I whisper in her ear as I continue my ministrations. I curl my fingers just right and she moans. “That’s it. That feels good, doesn’t it?” I croon in her ear.
“Mmm,” she moans again.
I pick up the pace, moving my fingers in and out of her slick heat as I pinch and squeeze her nipples with my other hand. Her thighs start to shake as her hips rock against me. I curl my fingers again and bite down on her ear and she explodes all over them with a cry. She continues to clench and wring my fingers as she shudders and starts to come down from her high.
“Good girl,” I whisper as I kiss her lobe. I stroke her once more before I slide my fingers out from between her legs. She turns her head towards me. Her hand reaches up and pulls my head down and then she kisses me deeply.
“Such a good girl,” I murmur into her mouth.
We relax once again. The water is still warm so there’s no need to get out just yet. “Can I ask you a question?” I say softly, hoping like fuck I’m not going to ruin all my hard work.
“Mmm,” she mumbles. Here goes nothing.
“Who hurt you?” I keep my voice soft, barely above a whisper. I feel her stiffen against me.
Fuck.
“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but it might help me understand your fears a little better if you do,” I quickly explain as I kiss the top of her head and run my fingers up and down her arm, trying to keep her from bolting.
I feel her relax a little. Neither of us says anything. Okay, at least she isn’t running for the hills. This is good, I can work with this , I think.
“I’m not sure what you are asking,” Layla finally says.
I clear my throat, unsure how to go about this. “I get the impression you’ve been hurt—by a man—or at least, that’s how it appears. Would you like to talk about it?”
Silence.
She finally shakes her head. “It’s not what you think.”
“Okay.”
“My childhood was…different. I told you it was complicated.”
“Fuck,” I growl as I automatically assume the worst. No wonder she has a hate on for men. No wonder she doesn’t trust easily. I’ll kill the fucker.
She turns in my arms and straddles my lap. More water sloshes over the side of the tub. Her big brown eyes lock on mine.
“It’s not that either. God, please don’t think that. My father would never… Maybe we should get out. I’m going to need coffee if we are going to have this conversation.”
She starts to rise but I hold her still. “You don’t have to tell me a goddamn thing if you don’t want to. You know that, right?” She leans down and brushes her lips against mine.
“I know. Why don’t you start breakfast while I run downstairs and change. I won’t be long.”
Twenty minutes later, the door opens and Layla steps through wearing a pair of black leggings and a light pink sweater. Her hair has been piled on top of her head and her face is devoid of makeup. She looks very much like she did the first night I met her. Fucking gorgeous.
I fill another cup and slide it across the island toward her. “Coffee first…drink,” I say with a smirk. She takes a seat and does as she’s instructed while I get to work on our breakfast. It’s nothing fancy, spinach and tomato omelets and some toast.
My back is to her when she begins. I don’t know if she needs the space, but I keep working and give it to her anyway.
“I already told you that it was just me and my mom when I was growing up, that I didn’t meet my father until a little over a year ago.”
I glance over my shoulder. “Yeah, I recall you saying that.”
“Here comes the complicated part. I was told from the time I was born that my father was a player, that he left when he found out my mother was pregnant with me. I never asked a lot of questions because I was a happy kid. My mom is great. She gave me all the love I needed, but somewhere along the line, I picked up on her distrust…almost hatred towards men. I guess I figured if she didn’t need them or want them in her life, why should I. Deep down, I suppose I resented my father for what he had done to her. I don’t have a lot of respect for men like that.”
“Nor should you,” I say as I place our plates down on the island and take a seat next to her. “I guess I can see where you were coming from when we first met. I didn’t exactly make a good first impression.”
“No, you didn’t. But I shouldn’t have judged you, Cole. That’s always been my biggest problem. I judge harshly before I have all the facts. Especially when it comes to men.”
I shrug as I start shoveling my breakfast into my mouth. “So why allow your father into your life now, then?” I’m glad to hear that nothing nefarious happened to her when she was a kid, but I’m more than curious to find out what changed her opinion about the man she calls her father.
She chuckles. “He kind of barged in without an invitation. I fought him on it at first, but then I agreed to listen to what he had to say. His story was far different from the one my mother told me.”
I listen quietly while she tells me about her father’s life. At first, I want to fucking kill him for being such a coward, but then, as she continues, my opinion of the man improves. She smiles as she tells me about their last dinner together, and how he knew every important detail of her life. How he never missed celebrating any of her achievements, even though he was hidden in the shadows. That couldn’t have been easy for him.
“Have you talked to your mom about any of this? What does she have to say for herself?” I finally ask when she is done speaking. My opinion of her mother isn’t much better than it was of her father when she started recounting her life story. The woman sounds like a selfish, vindictive bitch who made her daughter pay for her own shortcomings.
“My mother isn’t a bad person, Cole,” she says as she gets up and pours herself another cup of coffee. I like that Layla is feeling comfortable enough to help herself. She holds up the pot and I shake my head. I’ve had a couple cups already, that’s enough for one day.
“I spoke to her…after our last heated disagreement in my office, actually. I already knew I was attracted to you by then. I was afraid she would be disappointed in me somehow because of that.”
“Fuck.” I shake my head and run my fingers through my hair. What a waste of six months. This is fucked-up stuff.
Layla stands on the opposite side of the island sipping her coffee as she watches me. “I wanted to tell her about you. Anyway, we talked about all of it. You. My father. My upbringing. My feelings. She apologized. Her claimed intention was never to transpose her feelings for my father, or towards men in general, on me. Unfortunately, kids often want to emulate their parents and shit happens.” She shrugs and smiles shyly at me. “Anyway, that’s why I’m the way I am—or at least was—I’ve been working on it.”
“I can tell.” I smile at her. “You’ve been a lot nicer to me lately.” I open my arms and she walks into my embrace. “Thank you for sharing that with me. It helps put things in perspective, and I’ll do my best to earn the trust you’ve given me,” I whisper into her ear.