Christ, hot.
“Layne,” she repeated on a breath, he got her skirt around her waist and one hand went down, in the front her panties and the other hand went up, yanking her sweater over her tits, then he jerked down her bra and his fingers tugged her nipple.
That got him another gasp, his finger hit her clit, her hips jerked and she whispered, “Oh my God,” and moved to press back into him.
“Keep your hands on the wall,” he growled in her ear, working her clit and nipple at the same time.
Her head fell back on his shoulder and her breath got heavy.
“Oh my God,” she repeated, turning so her forehead was pressed to his neck, her back arched into his hand and her hips ground down into his fingers.
“You like this?” he asked even though he knew she did, he wanted to make her say it.
“Yes,” she breathed.
He stopped playing with her clit, thrust two fingers into her drenched * and turned his head to watch her neck arch, pressing her head against his shoulder, her lips parted. She pushed back against him, losing concentration, her hands slipping down the wall.
“Hands to the wall, Rocky,” he ordered and her hips jerked as his fingers moved in and out of her and his other hand worked her tit.
“You,” she breathed urgently after he’d worked her for awhile.
“You’ll get me, baby,” he promised, watching her face, “fuck yourself on my fingers.”
She instantly did as she was told, Rocky, his Rocky, Jesus, so fucking hot. She took herself close, so close, she was reaching for it, it was going to be good and watching her he nearly came in his pants.
When she was almost there, he moved away, she gasped and started to turn.
“Hands to the wall,” he demanded, she kept her hands to the wall but twisted her neck to look at him, her eyes unfocused, her face filled with need and he hooked her panties with his thumb and tore them down her legs. “Step outta those.” She did as ordered again, Layne freed his cock from his pants and went on. “Spread your legs.” She again did what she was told, tipping her ass to him, ready for it, nonverbally begging for it. “That’s it,” he growled, bent his knees and thrust into her.
Fucking bliss.
“Oh God,” she whimpered and he drove into her, one arm wrapped around her belly, he moved his hand from her breast and covered her mouth as the moans came.
“Take me, Rocky,” he grunted as he drove harder, faster and listened as her stifled moans got deeper.
He kept at her, knowing it was building in her as it built in him until her head shot back, colliding with his shoulder and he felt her mouth open against his palm as her * tightened around his cock.
Beautiful.
He let go, drove in deep and exploded.
Fucking beautiful.
Christ, but he loved her.
He rode her gently as he came down then rooted himself and used his hand at her jaw to twist her neck so he could take her mouth in a kiss. Her tongue danced with his before he pulled out, turned her back to the wall and kissed her again while he shoved the skirt back down her hips.
His mouth left hers but their eyes locked, her arms wrapped around his back, one of his hands at her neck, the other one righting his pants as they stared at each other.
She dropped her eyes, pressed in and kissed his throat, her lips stayed there and he felt them move when she said, “Today is starting a lot better than yesterday.”
He grinned, his hand moving to her jaw to tip her head back so he could look at her.
“It ain’t Ozzie and Harriet, sweetcheeks,” he remarked.
“Poor Ozzie and Harriet,” she replied.
His grin turned into a smile before he got serious.
“Don’t play me again, Roc, you want something, we talk about it.”
Rocky didn’t feel like getting serious.
“I’m not sure that was a deterrent, baby, more like an incentive.”
“I’m bein’ serious,” he informed her.
“So am I,” she shot back.
He looked down at her face and it hit him that she looked happy. She hadn’t looked happy any of the times he’d seen her since he’d been home and now she looked happy. And he knew it was only part just having an orgasm against the wall in his closet. It was mostly being with Layne in his closet.
His irritation slid away as that look on her face settled deep in his soul. He slid his thumb along her cheekbone and softly asked her the same question she’d asked him last night.
“What am I gonna do with you, Raquel Merrick?”
Her expression shifted, he couldn’t quite read it but it looked like she was scared. It was not exactly fear, instead she looked anxious and maybe even timid before her quiet words explained her look.
“Anything you want, Layne, as long as you’re with me when you do it.”
There it was. Thank fuck, there it was.
Rocky was going to take a chance again on dark and wild.
Layne felt another golden trail burn through him but he asked just to confirm.
“I take it that means we don’t need to have a conversation tomorrow night.”
Rocky studied him only a beat before she nodded.
Layne grinned.
Then he dipped his face close and whispered, “Go get cleaned up, sweetcheeks.”
“Okay,” she whispered back, touched her mouth to his and slid out from in front of him.
She started to walk away but turned back suddenly, dropped to a knees-closed crouch, nabbed her panties and tossed them into the mostly empty but still partly filled hamper. Then she threw him a satisfied grin and walked into the bathroom.
Layne looked at her panties knowing exactly what they said.
Vera could have Milky Way cake and Layne’s laundry but Rocky had her panties in that laundry, panties he’d torn down her legs before he fucked her.
It was a dirty play, a hit below the belt, but it made her point irrevocably.
His hands went to the buttons of his shirt and he smiled.
His mother was a contender but Rocky was definitely fighting to win.
Chapter Eighteen
The Life and Times of Tanner Layne