“Ma –” Layne started to warn but Vera cut him off.
“We need to go,” she stated. “I’ll go get the boys.” Then she hustled in the direction of Jasper and Tripp, who’d managed to pry a throng of girls from TJ Gaines’s snare and were shining their football stud light upon them.
Layne’s eyes went to Rocky to see her eyes on his mother.
“Roc –”
“That’s my cake,” she whispered, her eyes still on his mother.
Layne sighed, then repeated, “Roc –”
Her gaze shot to his. “She can’t have that cake.”
“Just let her do what she thinks she has to do.”
Rocky glared at him then her eyes changed and Layne’s neck contracted when they did because he didn’t like what he saw before she hid it by looking away from him.
“Rocky?” he called.
She looked at him again. “You know, I haven’t made that cake in years. Not for Dad, not for Merry, even when they asked for it, and not for Jarrod.”
He understood the look, both his hands went to her hips and he murmured, “Baby.”
“That’s my cake,” she repeated, back to whispering. “And she knows it.”
Then she pulled from his hands and strutted away.
Yep, he was right, an escalation in hostilities.
He took in a deep breath through his nose, looked to see his mother corralling his sons and when they started to walk his way, Layne turned and followed Rocky to the car.
*
When they hit the house, Rocky was still pissed at Vera and, wordlessly, she marched through the house and up the stairs.
Layne followed her, not because she was pissed, she’d made that bed by leaving him and she had to deal with his mother her way. He’d said his piece, Vera had ignored it, Rocky clearly wasn’t going to bolt because of Vera’s antics so now he wasn’t getting involved.
No, he followed her because he was pissed. She’d made her play and got her way and Layne didn’t like how she went about it. It didn’t matter that she was right, putting that shit with Gaines under his nose so he’d intensify the operation. Because, in doing it, she’d also put herself out there and that, coupled with how she’d made her play, pissed him off.
It was time to teach Rocky a lesson.
She was halfway across his bedroom when he made it to the door and closed it loudly behind him. The instant he did, she stopped and whirled.
“I’ll be needing to have words with your mother,” she announced.
“Later,” Layne returned, moving toward her.
“No, in about two minutes, before she goes to the grocery store and comes back and steals my cake.”
“Got things bigger than cakes to talk about, sweetcheeks,” Layne replied, still advancing on her, her face cleared, she got a good look at him, she read him and astutely started backing up.
“Layne –” she started, her hand coming up and Layne didn’t stop moving but his eyes went to her hand then back to hers.
“Not wearin’ your bandage,” he remarked.
She kept edging backward, her hand still up and she asked, “What?”
“Bandage, baby, for your wrist,” Layne kept moving forward, she hit the edge of the archway to the bathroom and righted herself instantly, moving backwards into the bathroom.
“Um… it doesn’t hurt anymore,” she replied.
“Doc say you can take it off?” Layne asked as they moved through the bathroom and into walk-in.
“No, Layne, um… what are you doing?”
“I’m talkin’ about your wrist and then, in about two seconds, I’m gonna carry you to my bed, turn you over my knee and slap that sweet ass of yours.”
Her eyes grew round just as she hit the wall of the walk-in.
“Layne –”
He got deep into her space, her hand hit his chest and he kept going, forcing her arm to bend at the elbow and trapping it between them as he put his hands on the wall on either side of her.
“Played me, sweetcheeks.”
“I know.” She surprised him by instantly copping to it. “But it was important.”
“It’s important, we talk about it, you don’t fuck me.”
She stared up at him and rested her free hand at his waist. “I didn’t fuck you, Layne,” she whispered.
“Oh yeah you did, baby, now,” his head dipped and he got in her face, “I fuck you.”
“Layne,” she breathed, her eyes glued to his and hearing that, he lost it.
His hands moved from the wall to her jaws, he tipped her head back further and pulled her up as his mouth slammed down on hers.
She opened it immediately, his tongue slid inside, her arms glided around his shoulders and she pressed herself into him.
He kissed her hard, demanding, wet and she gave it to him, everything he took from her, her fingers moving to his jacket to pull it off his shoulders, he released her face, dropped his arms and let it fall. His hands went directly to her ass, pulling her hips tight against his hardening cock and her hands went to his shirt, pulling it out of his pants, going in, her fingers trailing his skin.
His mouth released hers and travelled down her neck, she turned her head and whispered, “Baby,” in his ear and his hand went under her sweater, up and he cupped her breast. She strained into his hand and repeated her whispered, “Baby.”
She smelled good, she tasted good and her nipple was hard against his palm. She was wearing one of her tight skirts and high heels and Layne liked all of that, he’d been liking it for awhile and he was about to like it a lot more.
“You want it?” he growled in her ear.
“I –” she started and abruptly he pulled away, turned her to facing the wall and moved into her.
“Put your hands to the wall and don’t move them,” he ordered.
“Layne.”
“Do it. Now.”
“Layne.”
He pressed his hard cock into her ass. “Now, sweetcheeks.”
She put her hands to the wall, he pulled her tight skirt up her thighs and heard her suck in breath as he looked down.
Fuck, she was wearing lace-topped thigh highs and satin-backed, dark blue panties that showed a fuckuva lot of cheek.