Because of You

Ray Bergin holds the phone between his cheek and shoulder, grabbing a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and pressing it against his black eye while he waits for his call to be answered.

The last couple of calls he made on the cell phone number he was given went unanswered, so he decides to call on a number he knows won’t be ignored.

“What the hell are you doing calling me on this number?”

Ray rolls his eyes and walks out of the kitchen, flopping down on an old ripped couch in the corner of the living room in his trailer.

“Gee, no hello?” he asks with a laugh as he picks up the remote and flips through the channels until he finds a good soft core porn movie to watch.

“What do you want?” his contact on the other end asks in an angry whisper.

“It seems the cell number you gave me doesn’t work. Imagine that?”

An indignant huff sounds through the line. “I must have given you the wrong number. Just don’t ever call me here again. Someone else could have answered and then we would both be f*cked.”

Ray’s blood boils as he listens to the shit coming out of this person’s mouth.

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m not the one going behind someone’s back who trusts me and living the high life while doing it. I just spent the last twenty-four months in prison and live in a shit hole trailer. I ain’t got nothin’ to lose, and you got plenty. It would do you good to remember that.”

Ray turns up the volume on the two chicks going down on each other and lets his words sink in for a few minutes while he enjoys a little girl-on-girl action.

“Fine, you made your point. Now make another one. Why the hell are you calling me?”

“Just figured I’d check in and make sure the job was done to your satisfaction,” Ray replies distractedly as he cocks his head and focuses on the television. He sets the remote down next to him and eases his body lower on the couch so he can put his feet up on the milk crates he uses as a coffee table.

“You went a little overboard, don’t you think? I told you to scare her, not beat the shit out of her,” the voice replies.

“You should have been a little more specific then,” Ray reminds with a laugh.

“I didn’t pay you to mess up her face.”

“So far you’ve only paid me for the letters. And what about my face? You didn’t tell me that PI a*shole was going to be following her around like a puppy dog. That guy came out of nowhere and almost had me. There better be some extra cash in that envelope tomorrow to make up for my pain and suffering, or else I’ve got a few recorded phone conversations and emails the press might be very interested in listening to.”

Ray throws the now-melted bag of peas to the end of the couch and smiles to himself when he hears nervous, rapid breathing on the other end of the line.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. I said I’d pay you and I will. I don’t know what the hell Brady Marshall was doing at that club tonight. It’s obvious that slut already has him wrapped around her little finger. He’s a drunk and one more tragedy away from putting a gun in his mouth. That’s the only reason he was hired. It looks good to the public, but he’s too busy wallowing in his own misery to figure anything out. Still, you damn well better be covering your tracks. And I think after tomorrow, your services won’t be needed anymore.”

Ray grinds his teeth in anger. He doesn’t let anyone talk to him this way. He’s killed people in the past for a lot less, and right now, he’s had enough of the pompous, I’m-better-than-you act.

“You and I have known each other for quite some time now. You should know that I don’t take orders from anyone, especially someone like you. Now that I’ve had a chance to get up close and personal to little miss Layla, I don’t think I’m anywhere near finished with her yet,” Ray says, his cock swelling in his pants—a combination of the movie and thoughts of Layla Carlysle and her hot little body that he had pressed up against him tonight.

“What do you mean you’re not finished? I paid you to write a few letters and give her a little scare. That’s it.”

“Didn’t we already go over this? I haven’t gotten paid for my services from tonight. We’ll see how much of a bonus I get tomorrow. Then I’ll decide when and if I’m finished with that pretty little thing.”

Ray likes the sound of fear and panic in the voice on the other end. It reminds him that regardless of how much money someone has, it’s good to be the person with the upper hand. And he definitely has the upper hand right now.

“I’m bored with this conversation and I’ve got shit to do. Leave the money in our usual drop-off place by nine tomorrow morning.”

Ray hangs up the phone and tosses it in the general direction of the bag of peas, a huge smile on his face as he turns up the volume of the movie as loud it will go, slides his hand down the front of his pants, and palms his erection. Thoughts of Layla Carlysle fill his mind as he remembers the way she fought against him.

She had a hard little body and it made him hot thinking about her working up a sweat to get it that way. She was also soft in all the right places, especially between her legs.

His cock grows longer and fuller as he slides his hand up and down his shaft, thinking about his fingers sliding between Layla’s legs. Her thighs were clenched tight around his hand, trying to deny him access to that sweet place he’d love to sink his dick into, but he still managed to pry his fingers between those smooth thighs and touch all that creamy, hot skin for a few seconds before she bit him.

Ray pumps his fist faster and faster, his balls tightening as he thinks about the heat he felt on his fingers and her wet mouth clamped down on his hand. It hurt like a mother f*cker, but Ray got off on the pain. He pictures her wrapping that sweet mouth around his cock and bobbing her head up and down on him while he pulls her hair and pushes himself to the back of her throat until she gags and maybe even bites down on him.

It doesn’t take long before he’s panting and moaning, cursing Layla’s name loudly in the small confines of his trailer as he brings himself to completion.

He slumps back against the couch with a satisfied smile on his face, hoping the next time he has a few minutes alone with Layla Carlysle, she’ll fight him even harder. It’s always better when they struggle. And Ray can’t wait to feel that little hell cat clawing and scratching at him again.





“You’re going to be mine someday very soon, princess. I’m not ready for you just yet, but I will be. And you’re going to be ready for me.”

The scream rips from my throat as I bolt up in bed, kicking the twisted covers off of my legs. I can’t stop screaming and I feel like I can’t breathe. The soft, cool sheets suddenly feel like hot, sweaty hands wrapped around my legs, and I just want them off.

The door to my room bursts open and slams against the opposite wall as I continue to whimper and try unsuccessfully to get free, the sheets getting more and more tangled with my legs.

“Get them off! GET THEM OFF!” I scream frantically as I claw at the material.

Brady is across the room in seconds, climbs onto the bed with me, and cradles my face in his hands, forcing me to look into his eyes.

“Shhh, it’s okay, Layla. Look at me, it’s okay. It was just a dream.”

I shake my head vigorously, tears pooling in my eyes as I remember my attacker’s words, his breath, and the feel of his hands on me.

“You’re safe now, just breathe.”

The fight leaves my body, and I close my eyes, sagging forward until my head is resting against his chest.

His bare chest.

“I’m going to untangle you from the sheets, okay?” he asks softly, his hand resting on top of my head.

A chill rolls through my body at Brady's gentle words, and it has nothing to do with my damp, sweaty skin from the dream and everything to do with the man in my bed.

The dream is momentarily forgotten as he moves away from me. With the bright moonlight streaming in through the window, and the nightlight in my bathroom, I have a clear view of him now. His sculpted chest and stomach tightens with the movement of his arms as he starts pulling my legs out of the tangled mess of sheets. The only thing he wears is a pair of drawstring sweat pants that hang low on his waist, the deep V between his abs and his hips clearly visible and undeniably mouthwatering.

“Why are you here?” I ask dumbly as his hand wraps around my ankle and slides one of my legs free so I can finally turn and hang them off the edge of the bed. I ignore the burning on the skin of my leg where he touched me and instead, focus on the fact that I’m barely wearing more than him.

“I heard you screaming from downstairs.”

My thin, small, purple tank top doesn't leave much to the imagination so I cross my arms over my braless chest and try to calm my breathing but realize it's pointless because I’m wearing an equally revealing pair of matching boy shorts.

I look up at him in confusion. “What?’

He chuckles and reaches over, running his fingers through my hair. It's still damp from the shower I took before bed to try and scrub the feel of that disgusting man’s hands off of me.

“You asked what I was doing here. I heard you screaming. You scared the shit out of me with those lungs on you.”

I reach up with one hand and rub my temple, the beginning of a headache forming after the events of tonight and the awful dream.

“No, I mean, what are you doing here. In my house. In the middle of the night, like…that,” I stutter, my hand waving in his general direction.

Brady looks down at himself and then back up to me, raising one eyebrow.

“Well, I usually sleep in the buff, but when I heard you scream, I didn’t have time to throw much else on. Is this bothering you?” he asks with a smirk on his full lips.

Full, kissable lips.

Shut up, Layla.

“As for why I’m here, I didn’t feel right leaving when that guy is still out there. I’m going to stick around until he’s caught just to be on the safe side.”

My arms fall to my sides, and I turn and stare at him in shock, my eyes widening and my mouth dropping open.

“You can’t stay here. I mean, it’s nice of you to offer and all, but I have a brand new security system. And Finn lives in the cabin right behind me.”

And you being this close to me twenty-four seven when all I can think about is licking your stomach is NOT good. Not good at all.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I’m not negotiating this with you. I was hired to do a job, and I’m not going to slack off. What happened tonight should have never happened, and I need to find out why it did. I can’t do that if I’m constantly worried about your safety by being elsewhere,” he explains.

Would he really think about me and worry about me if he wasn’t here? Gaaaah, focus! You CANNOT have this man living with you.

Before I can continue the argument, my eyes zero in on the tattoo I noticed when we went on our run all those weeks ago. Now that he isn’t wearing a shirt, I can see the black inked words that flow in cursive script across his upper bicep. Without thinking, I reach out and run my fingers over the words.

“I will never forget,” I read aloud in a low whisper.

Brady’s jaw clenches as I finish running my fingertips over the words and look up at his face.

“What won’t you forget?” I ask him, looking back and forth between his eyes.

He swallows and wets his lips, and I can’t help but stare at his mouth when he opens it to speak.

“Friends, family, all the people I’ve let down,” he speaks softly.

I shift my eyes away from his mouth and wonder about his words. This is the most he’s opened up to me since that day in the woods and I want more. I want so much more. I don’t want him to shut down by asking more questions, though, so I change the subject.

I notice a black and blue mark on his chin that’s roughly the same size and shape as the one I currently sport under my eye. I immediately reach out and touch him.

“Was this from tonight?” I ask, my fingers grazing back and forth over the bruise.

Brady sucks in a sharp breath when I touch him again, his eyes roaming over my face, down my neck, and glancing heatedly over the cleavage showing at the top of my tank. I feel my nipples tingle and tighten as I watch him looking at me. He swallows thickly a few times as his gaze slowly makes its way back up to my face. There’s nothing more sensual than watching a man struggle to keep himself in check when he’s looking at you, nothing more arousing than seeing his eyes darken with desire and his tongue slide out to lick his lips because you know he’s thinking about kissing you.

I can feel the heat from his body radiating off of him since we’re sitting so close. All I can think about is pushing him back on the bed, straddling his hips, and feeling him between my legs, rubbing against this ache that has blossomed into full blown need.

“It’s nothing, just a bruise. I’ve had worse.”

Dropping my hand from his face, I jump up from the bed and stalk to the middle of the room, needing to put some distance between us so I can gather my bearings and think straight.

He can’t stay here. I’ll never get any sleep or be able to concentrate on anything, but there’s no way in hell I can tell him that.

“Whatever you’re thinking in that pretty little head of yours, you can stop right now. I’m not leaving. Not until that a*shole is behind bars,” Brady states, standing up from the bed and walking towards me.

“I hate this. I hate feeling helpless. I hate feeling like I have to rely on other people to protect me,” I tell him angrily, trying to focus on something other than how good he looks standing half naked in the middle of my bedroom in bare feet like he belongs here.

“You’re not helpless,” he argues softly.

“Yes I am! He HAD me. I couldn’t move my arms. I couldn’t get away. I couldn’t do anything but let him drag me away and do whatever he wanted to me.”

I let the anger flow through me, preferring it much more right now than the desire of moments ago or the fear from this evening.

“You were in shock and scared to death. You can’t blame yourself for not being able to take a man down that was three times your size. The important thing is that I got there in time.”

Laughter laced with an edge bubbles out of me, and I and roll my eyes.

“You’re not always going to be there. What the hell happens the next time?”

He clenches his hands at his sides, and his body tightens even more than it already is.

“There won’t be a next time. You can count on that.”

His voice is low and deep, and I can tell he means it. I believe that he means it, but he isn’t Superman. He can’t be everywhere at once, and he can’t stop every threat that comes my way.

“But what if you aren’t?”

I can see the battle he’s waging with himself, and I instinctively move closer to him, wanting to soothe the rage he obviously feels when the thinks about not being there to keep me safe.

“You can’t attach yourself to my hip, Brady. I’m a public figure and I have a demanding job that goes along with it. You can’t be on stage with me, in my dressing room with me, or next to me for every interview or fan meet-and-greet I do.

“Teach me,” I tell him, a sudden idea occurring to me.

He looks at me questioningly, pursing his lips as he rolls the idea around in his head. I can see him getting ready to tell me no, to reassure me that he won’t leave my side, but I need this. I need him to understand and to help me.

“I feel powerless enough on a daily basis with my life. Please show me what to do. Teach me how not to be so defenseless. I need to feel like I have control over something,” I plead with him.

Brady rubs his hand against the back of his neck and sighs and I know I have him.

“You weren’t helpless when he had his arms around you,” he finally says.

He drops his hand from his and neck reaches out to grab my shoulders, turning me around so that my back is to him.

He steps closer until I can feel his bare chest against my back, his mouth near my ear as he bends down to speak, his hands still holding onto my shoulders.

“He may have had your arms pinned,” he tells me, sliding his hands down my arms and then wrapping them around me, “but you still had a very powerful weapon at your disposal.”

My heart rate picks up, and my mouth suddenly feels dry as I try to remain focused on what he’s telling me and not how good it feels to have his strong arms holding me against his hard body.

“As soon as the adrenaline kicks in, it will seem like everything is happening in slow motion. If you remember to breathe, stay calm, and focus, it will feel like you have hours to make a decision about what to do instead of just seconds,” he says softly, his breath fanning the side of my face as his arms tighten around me just a fraction, holding me in place. “You can’t use your hands, and your legs can’t reach him, but what part of your body is closest to him right now?”

I don’t want to say my ass, which is nestled against Brady’s erection, which I can easily feel through the thin material of my shorts, even though it’s all I can think about. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, forcing my heart to stop beating out of my chest and think about what I would do if this wasn’t a gorgeous man I’m slowly beginning to trust with his arms secured around me.

“My head,” I tell him quietly.

“Good,” he states encouragingly. “With one hard bash of your head against his face, you could break his nose or stun him long enough for his arms to loosen so you can get free. All you need is to connect once or twice to his face or collarbone, and he’ll be howling in pain.”

His arms drop from around me, and I want to whimper when I no longer feel their warmth cradling me close.

Brady moves from behind, slowly circling around me, making me nervous as he stares me up and down.

“When you fight back, use the strongest parts of your body: your head, your fists, your elbows,” he explains, touching his hand to each of those parts on me as he makes a full circle and is back behind me again brushing his body against mine in the process. “If all of those things are incapacitated, use your entire body.”

In a flash, his arms are caging me tightly against him, and one of his hands is around my throat. “Don’t think. Just act.”

I begin struggling as hard as I can, twisting and turning to get out of his grasp, but I’m nowhere near as strong as he is. I can’t get free no matter how hard I try, all of this exertion is just tiring me out and forcing my ass to rub against him and feel how much harder he’s gotten since this self-defense lesson began. My body freezes in its struggle as I feel how turned on he is.

“Roll your shoulders forward,” he says in a husky voice. “Don’t try to strain or push away from your attacker.”

I do as he instructs, hunching my shoulders.

“Now fall to the ground.”

I slide out of his arms and down the length of him until I’m free, turning my body and jumping up to face him.

“Holy shit, that worked,” I whisper, staring at him in awe.

“It works when your attacker is behind you. What about if he comes at you straight on?” Brady asks, bending his knees and putting his hands up in front of him, getting ready to charge.

I swallow nervously, my brain a jumble of emotions as I try to think about the things he’s just taught me and if I will ever be able to fully focus when he’s standing in front of me looking fierce, his eyes blazing a trail down my body.

I run out of time to get my thoughts in order as he rushes me, wrapping his arms around me and pushing me backwards. My feet stumble over one another, and I lose my balance, falling backwards and taking him with me. One of his arms shoots out behind me to stop me from hitting the carpet. his body slams on top of me instead.

A thrill shoots through my body, feeling him touching me everywhere from chest to toe, and it's like nothing I've ever felt before.

Brady pushes up on one arm to ease some of his weight off of me, his other arm still wrapped securely around my waist.

“If you fall, there’s no way he’ll be able to keep both of his arms around you. You’ll have at least one of yours free. Go for his vulnerable spots,” he encourages, his warm breath floating over my parted lips. “Eyes, neck, groin.”

As soon as he mentions that last spot, it’s all I can focus on. His groin is resting right on top of mine. Trying to surprise him, I bring my hand up quickly, my fist going for his throat. He catches it in his hand right before I make contact, pushing my arm up and over my head and securing it on the floor. Breathing heavy, my other hand flies up towards his eyes. He catches that hand just as easily, trapping it beside my head just like the other one.

“Good. Really good,” he praises softly, his eyes moving to my lips as I lick the dryness off of them.

His breath begins coming out just as roughly as mine as he keeps my arms suspended over my head, his body pushing me into the carpet. Without conscious thought, I spread my legs until they are on either side of his hips, bringing my knees up and cradling him against me.

A moan escapes my mouth when I feel his hardness between my legs, right where I’ve wanted him all night. Before I even have a chance to be embarrassed at my actions, Brady lets out a low, growling curse and ducks his head down to my mouth.





The reasons why this is an incredibly bad idea fly out of my head as soon as my mouth touches hers. Just being in the same room with her is bad enough. Seeing her scared and frantic is a like a knife right through my heart. Watching her angry and determined as she paces in the middle of the bedroom in that tight tank top and shorts that are so small it should have been illegal is intoxicating—better than any buzz I’ve had in the last year. Holding her in my arms and having her body up against mine is hot and such a turn on I think I may explode from wanting her so much.

But this…being between her legs, feeling the heat of her arousal wrapping around my cock while I attack her mouth is mind blowing.

I can’t get enough of her. It’s impossible to get close enough, taste fast enough. As soon as my tongue touches hers, I know I’m gone. There will be no coming back from Layla Carlysle. She sucks my tongue into her mouth, wraps her legs around my waist, and in that one instant, it's like she was in my bloodstream and I can feel here everywhere. I want to sink inside of her and never come up for air.

Holding her arms in place above her head, I push my hips forward and slide myself against her, swallowing her moan as I strengthen the kiss, sweeping my tongue slow and deep through her mouth. She takes every part of the kiss and gives back equally, her tongue tangling with mine and moving in the same leisurely motion as my hips. Every time I slide against her, she whimpers into my mouth, and nothing else matters right now but having her continue to make those sounds. I want to hear her moan louder, come with my name on her lips.

I don’t want to stop kissing her, but I need more. I need to taste her skin. Pulling my mouth away from hers, I make a trail of kisses across her cheek, down the side of her neck, and pause at her collarbone where I run the tip of my tongue. I let go of her hands and push myself up on one elbow, staring into her hooded eyes as I slide an open palm down the underside of her arm and her side until my fingers meet the bare skin of her stomach. She keeps her arms above her head and tilts her head up, arching her back as I slowly push her tank top up, revealing the creamy smooth skin of her flat stomach until finally her bare breasts are on display. They are full and beautiful, and her hardened nipples are begging for my mouth. I bend over her, holding my mouth an inch away from one of the tight buds, letting my warm breath flow over it and watch as it hardens even more. Layla whimpers softly and her hands fly to the back of my head, clutching my hair between her fingers and urging my mouth to where she needs me. I lean forward the rest of the way, taking her nipple into my mouth and sucking it gently, my tongue circling as I pull her in deeper. I let my other hand gently knead and squeeze her other breast, my thumb rubbing back and forth over her nipple while I continue sucking her into my mouth and listen to her cries of pleasure. I thought just listening to her come would be enough for me, but it’s not. I need to feel her when she lets go. I need to touch her heat as she squeezes around me.

I move suddenly, pulling my lips away from her nipple and placing one hand around her neck, tugging her to my mouth and sliding my tongue past her lips once again. I kiss her until we’re both mindless with need. I tear my lips away and watch her eyes as I let my hand trail down her body and slide the tips of my fingers under the edge of her shorts. I don’t want to do something she doesn’t want. As much as I’m dying to touch her, she’s been through hell tonight and I don’t want her doing this out of some misplaced need to forget about what happened to her.

“Tell me what you want,” I whisper against her lips.

She pushes her hips up a fraction so that my fingers slide further into the soft cotton material.

“You,” she breathes against my mouth. “Touch me, Brady, please.”

I swoop down without hesitation and kiss her lips, my hand sliding the rest of the way inside of her shorts at the same time until I feel nothing but the smooth warmth of her. I immediately plunge two fingers into her wet heat, and now it’s my turn to whimper and moan into her mouth. She’s soft and tight wrapped around my fingers, and I can only imagine how it would feel to have my cock buried inside of her right now, squeezing me and making me lose my mind.

One of her legs drops from my hip and she rests it on its side against the carpet, opening herself to me so I can push inside of her as deep as my fingers will go. Her body shudders against me as I pump slowly in and out of her, coating my fingers with her arousal. She wraps her arms around me, her hands smacking against my skin and her nails gently scraping down my back. I want to throw my head back in satisfaction and howl like dog.

I move my mouth to her neck, sucking her skin gently into my mouth as my thumb finds her center and circles slowly, around and around, back and forth, until her hips are thrusting against my hand and she’s gasping for breath and crying for a release I’m aching to give her. She’s so close I can practically feel her vibrating with need. I continue moving my hand against her, taking as much as she’ll give me, willing to give her everything I have, including my soul, just to feel her come apart against me.

I move my mouth to her earlobe, taking it between my teeth and biting down gently before whispering in her ear.

“Let go, baby. I want to feel you let go.”

My words have the desired effect. She wraps her arms around me tightly and holds her body suspended, racing for the edge and tumbling over. She cries out her release: a mixture of my name, curses, and mumbles of incoherent nothing. It’s the most beautiful sound in the world.

I never want to stop touching her, never want to stop feeling her.

“You are so f*cking beautiful,” I sigh against her ear as she comes back down to earth, my fingers still buried inside of her because I can’t bear to move them just yet.

I’m so lost in her I don’t even realize one of her arms has moved from around my back. Her small, warm hand suddenly plunges down the front of my pants and wraps around an erection that is two seconds away from exploding after what just happened. I don’t want her to feel like she has to reciprocate. Even though it kills me to tell her she doesn’t have to do this, I need to. She needs to know feeling her and watching her come was better than any orgasm I’ve ever or will ever have.

“Layla, you don’t—”

She pulls my head down and cuts off my words with a hard, bruising kiss, sliding the tip of her tongue across my bottom lip before pulling back and looking into my eyes.

“It’s my turn now,” she tells me with a wicked grin, her eyes sparkling and her hand tightening around me.

She slides her hand down to the base and back up quickly, skimming her thumb through the wetness on the tip, making my eyes roll in the back of my head.

Both of her legs wrap back around my waist and she pulls me closer and works me harder and faster. I haven’t had a hand job since I was in high school. The women I’m usually with prefer to just hit it and go home. I don’t know if it’s just the fact that it’s Layla doing this to me right now or how on edge I am, but this is the hottest f*cking thing I’ve felt in a long time. She uses just the right amount of pressure and the perfect speed, and I’m thrusting into her hand and biting down on the side of her neck to muffle the cries that are dying to escape from my mouth right now. With my eyes squeezed shut and my face buried against her, I’m conscious of the fact that I still haven’t removed my fingers from inside of her, and I slowly pull them almost all of the way out before plunging them back in. Her movements on my cock falter for a second as she groans in pleasure and grows impossibly wetter around me.

“Brady…f*ck…I need you…oh God,” she moans against my mouth as we race each other to release, both of our hands moving fast and hard against the other.

Her stammered words shoot straight through my body and right to my dick, and I can’t move fast enough. She whimpers as I pull my fingers away from her, and I almost let out my own frustrated groan as her hand drops from around me when I pull back just enough to push my pants down my hips far enough to free my erection. When she realizes what I’m doing, she lifts her hips and begins pushing her shorts down her thighs. I push her hands out of the way, wanting to feel the skin of her legs against my hands as I pull them down for her. I get them off and toss them to the side, lowering my body back down on top of her and positioning myself right at her opening.

“Tell me you’re sure. F*ck, Layla, tell me you’re sure,” I plead as I slide the tip up and down through her wetness.

Her hands come up to my face, and she cups them on both of my cheeks, taking my bottom lip between her teeth and tugging on it gently.

“I’m sure. I am one hundred percent sure I need you inside me, Brady,” she whispers.

I let out the breath I don’t even realize I’ve been holding, pressing my mouth to hers and start to push inside of her.

A deafening, ear-piercing shriek of noise blasting through the house halts my movement, and my body freezes in surprise and shock. Neither one of us moves, the seconds ticking by and the racket growing louder as we both struggle to figure out what the hell is going on.

“F*ck! That’s your security alarm,” I shout over the noise as I push away from Layla and jump to my feet. I pull my pants up as I run over to the side table by the door where I had set my gun when I first entered the room after Layla’s nightmare. Lifting it into my hands, I double check the chamber.

I turn around to find Layla sliding back into her shorts, a look of fear on her face. Her skin, previously flushed pink from arousal, is now ashen and her hands shake as she wraps her arms around her waist. I want to calm her nerves and tell her that everything will be okay, but I can’t. Just like always, I let myself get distracted and now God knows who is trying to get into the house. I should have walked right back out of this room as soon as I saw she wasn’t being harmed earlier. If I would have been downstairs on the couch where I belonged, this wouldn’t be happening right now.

“Stay here. Lock the door behind me,” I yell to her as I step out into the hall, closing the door behind me.

Rushing down the hall, I get to the balcony overlooking the first floor, creeping up to it and peering over the railing, aiming my gun down into the living room as I scan the area. When I see nothing out of order down there, I slowly make my way down the stairs with my back brushing against the wall, careful not to make any noise. When I step off of the bottom step, I lead with my gun out in front of me as I whip around the corner into the kitchen.

It doesn’t take me more than five minutes to do a sweep of the first floor: nothing broken, all the windows and doors still secure, and no one other than Layla and I in the house. I quickly jog over to the front door and punch in the security code Finn reluctantly gave me earlier when he left to go to his own cabin. The alarm stops suddenly and I wince at the ringing in my ears with the abrupt silence.

I start to head towards the kitchen for the cordless phone that hangs on the wall to call the security company when a loud crash and a scream from upstairs pierce the silence.

“LAYLA!”

The shout bellows from my mouth as I take off out of the kitchen, my bare feel smacking on the hardwood floor as I rush to get back to her. I take the stairs two at a time, shouting her name the whole way until I get to the closed, locked bedroom door. Slamming my shoulder as hard as I can into the wood, the door flies open and I see a pile of broken glass on the floor right below her bedroom window, the sheer, white curtain billowing softly in the breeze.

My eyes frantically scan the room until I find Layla huddled in a ball on the floor with her back against the side of the bed, a red brick in her shaking hands.

I rush through the room towards the window, mindful of the broken glass on the floor as I get to the jagged hole and gaze out at the yard below. I scan the trees, the driveway, and the hedges and look as far as my eyes can see under the moonlight. As far as Layla’s house is from the road, someone would have had to walk quite a ways to throw something through the window since there aren’t any cars in sight and no one currently peeling out of the driveway.

I turn around and make my way over to Layla’s side, kneeling down next to her and prying the brick out of her hands. I turn it towards me and there’s only one thing written on it in white chalk: the word WHORE in big capital letters. Before I can say anything to her, the ringing of a cell phone comes from the table next to her bed. She blindly reaches her hand up to it and answers with a shaky voice without even looking at who is calling.

“Yes, this is Layla Carlysle. The password is hummingbird. Do I need police assistance?” she repeats back to the security company while looking at me questioningly.

I nod my head yes and she tells them to send the police, letting them know she’s unharmed and there is currently no one in the house with her that shouldn’t be before hanging up and tossing the phone to the side.

There are so many things I want to say to her before the police get here. So many thoughts running through my head that it’s all just one big f*cked up mess. I didn’t want anything to happen with her until she knew everything about me and could make an informed decision about whether or not she wanted to risk getting involved with me. I should have handled things better with her instead of jumping on her the first chance I got. I let it go entirely too far when I was supposed to be protecting her, not losing my mind inside of her. I shouldn’t be starting anything with her until this job is finished and it isn’t a conflict of interest. I knew there was no way I’d be able to just ignore how much I wanted her, but I could have at least waited until I was off the clock for f*ck’s sake. It was unprofessional and I was an idiot.

“Look, about what happened between us…”

Layla jumps up from the floor, her eyes glued to her feet as she steps around the broken glass and hurries past me.

“Forget about it. It was a mistake and it shouldn’t have happened. I just needed to forget about that guy’s hands on me. So…whatever,” she says with a shrug.

I stare at her retreating back in shock and anger as she heads towards the adjoining bathroom. Taking only a second before I storm after her, I wrap my hand around her arm and turn her around to face me.

“Let’s get something straight here,” I say with clenched teeth, staring down into her wide eyes as I try to keep my composure and not scare her half to death with my anger at her ambivalence. “This wasn’t a mistake. Not by a long shot. I’ve wanted to bury myself inside of you since the first moment you and your attitude walked into the room.”

Her lips part with a gasp, and I watch as her chest heaves with the breaths she’s taking, proving that what just happened between us wasn’t some half-assed way for her to forget anything. She liked it, and she wants more.

Letting go of the firm grasp I have on her upper arm, I slide my hand down to her wrist and bring her hand to my erection that’s straining against the front of my sweatpants so she can feel just how much I want her.

Her hand closes around me, and I have to momentarily shut my eyes and let out a low groan.

“This is what you do to me, Layla. Every second I’m within a hundred yards of you, I’m rock hard.”

She keeps her hand in place and begins to rub me as I move both of my hands to cup her face and tilt her head up so I can look into her eyes, forcing my knees not to buckle with what she’s doing to me.

“Don’t ever say this was a mistake, and don’t think for one minute I can’t read you like a book and see exactly what you’re trying to do: push me away first so you don’t get hurt. I’m not going anywhere, especially now that I’ve felt you come around my fingers and heard you cry out my name.”

Closing the distance between us, I claim her mouth with a forceful kiss, letting her know with my lips and tongue just how much I need her. I pull away quickly, long before I’m ready, and wonder how in the hell I’m going to compose myself to go downstairs and talk to the police that will be here any minute.

“We are absolutely going to pick up where we left off, and the next time you scream my name, it’s going to be when I’ve sunk myself inside of you as deep as I can get.”