Taking the Heat

Chapter 9



He walked in with my brother Jacob and I fell head over heels.”

Layla leaned back in her chair, enjoying the cool evening breeze that sifted through her hair. “I was sixteen. He was twenty-two and breathtaking. Gorgeous really, with a body built for sin. He had such intense sex appeal that it was like a match to my teenage hormones. He was the hottest man I’d ever seen.”

Rachel laughed softly. “Sexual chemistry.”

“To say the least. Totally ruined me for the guys in high school. They were fumbling little boys in comparison.” Layla’s fingertip circled the lip of her water glass. “But he only saw me as his best friend ’s annoying kid sister.”

“If only,” Brian interjected, coming up behind her and pressing a quick hard kiss to her temple. “She had me feeling like a lecher. Totally f*cked me up. I wanted her more than I’ve ever wanted a woman before or since, and I couldn’t have her until she grew up.”

“Ha! Don’t let him fool you, Rachel,” Layla said, shooting him a glance. “He was no saint in the interim.”

“Neither were you.” He pulled out the Adirondack chair next to her and caught her hand in his. “You knew you were turning me inside out. You did it on purpose.”

“You needed it. With the number of chicks falling all over you, you were getting full of yourself.”

Jack returned from the kitchen with a fresh bottle of beer for Rachel. The look the other couple passed to each other was both loving and intimate.

Layla turned away, her gaze finding Brian with his head back and his eyes closed. He appeared relaxed, but she knew he was far from it. Neither of them had eaten much for dinner. They were both too worked up to fully enjoy Jack ’s skill at the grill.

“Want to crash?” she asked softly, knowing he was running on fumes despite their earlier nap.

He inhaled deeply and nodded. “We should. We’ll be heading out in a few hours.”

She looked at Rachel and Jack, who made such a striking couple. Rachel’s short blond curls were a lovely contrast to Jack ’s dark good looks. “Thank you for dinner and for harboring fugitives in your home.”


“Thank you for cleaning up after dinner.” Rachel pushed gracefully to her feet. “I’ve really enjoyed having you, Layla. I hope this won’t be the last time we see each other.”

It would be. In a day or few, Layla Creed would cease to exist once again and she would become someone else. Layla pushed the thought away with a forced smile, choosing to take every moment as it came. Doing otherwise only drove her crazy. She hugged the other woman, then Jack.

The deputy looked down at her, his handsome face stark and austere. “I admire you, Layla. You’ve got balls taking on the Tijuana cartel and Simmons here. Stay tough and fierce.”

Her eyes stung. Praise from a guy like Jack Killigrew was high and she appreciated it. “Take care of him for me, will you?” she asked softly.

He nodded.

She backed away. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Brian told her, stroking his fingers through her hair.

She fled with relief, needing time to get her rioting emotions under control. When she got back to the room, she brushed her teeth and hair, then changed into the camisole she’d bought to sleep in. She climbed between the cool sheets and faced away from the middle, her gaze coming to rest on Brian’s gun and badge on the nightstand.

He came in a few minutes later. He moved quietly through his evening routine without turning the lights on. When he got into the bed, he slid over to her side, fitting his hard body to her back.

She absorbed his warmth and breathed in the beloved scent of his skin. His cock was rigid against her buttocks and sexual tension tightened his frame. His firm lips whispered across her shoulder, while his hand at her waist slid beneath the hem of her top.

Layla responded to his proximity with familiar alacrity—her nipples beaded tight and hard, her breasts swelled, her p-ssy softened. She’d gone without his touch for too long. She hungered to hear his raw groans and feel his powerful muscles flexing against her flesh. Her arms ached from the need to hold him close.

“Layla,” he murmured, nuzzling her nape. “Don’t shut me out.”

She looked at the clock, which counted down their remaining hours together. “I need you to promise me something.”

His callused hand cupped the swell of her breast and squeezed gently. “Anything.”

“Promise me you won’t wait for me again. Promise me you’ll find someone to love you and take care of you.”

He stilled. “Correction: anything but that.”

She turned to face him. His eyes glittered down at her in the semidarkness. The plantation shutters covering the windows weren’t fully closed; they angled the moonlight upward to the ceiling, bathing the room in a soft silver glow. “I want you to have what Jack has with Rachel. A family, people who love you and are waiting at home for you. You deserve it. You need it. Don’t let me f*ck up your life any more than I already have.”

“I can’t have what Jack has without you.”

Cupping his cheek, she said, “Because you’re hanging on to a dream that’s dead. I killed it, and now you have to let it go. You have to let me go.”

Brian’s fingers flexed restlessly into the muscles bracketing her spine. “Shut up, Layla.”

“I wish I’d left you alone when Jacob started bringing you around.” Her voice was hoarse with regret. “I wish I’d—”

He pressed his mouth to hers. Beneath the blankets, he caught the waistband of her panties in his fist and tore it. Then he kneed her legs open wider. He pushed the loosened crotch of her underwear aside and took himself in hand. The wide, silky crest of his cock parted the lips of her p-ssy and nudged her *oris.

“Christ.” He groaned. “I’ve been dying to push my cock into you since we woke up.”

Perspiration misted her skin. He wanted what she did—the connection, the ephemeral feeling that they were one and could never be parted.

Layla averted her head, gasping. “Brian, damn it. You’re deliberately distracting me.”

“Stop talking and enjoy it.” His lips slid across her jawline to her ear, where his tongue traced the shell. His breathing was harsh and loud, turning her on with the passion conveyed by the accelerated tempo. He stroked his cockhead down to the clenching opening of her p-ssy, notching himself briefly and growling at her trembling grip on that most sensitive part of him, before rubbing back up to nudge her swollen *. “You’re so wet, baby. So ready.”

A soft sound escaped her as he continued to glide through the saturated folds of her sex with the heavy length of his beautiful cock.

“Promise me,” she gasped, her hands gripping his hips.

“I’ve been riding you bareback, Layla,” he murmured, his tongue worrying a hardened nipple through the thin cotton of her camisole. “And you specifically told me to come inside you. You’re not protected, are you?”

She sucked in a shaky breath. “You don’t know that.”

He slid his cock downward to the entrance of her p-ssy and pushed the thick crown into her. “Your cunt is tight and greedy. You haven’t taken a man inside you in a long time. Why take the pill if you’re not having sex?”

She was briefly startled by how perfectly his words mimicked her thoughts from the day before. “That’s not the only reason women take the pill, Bri.”

“You’re evading the question.” His lips circled the tip of her breast.

He worked another few inches inside her. She trembled with desire, her body so sensitized by his confident, relentless seduction. His virility and potent sensuality were their own foreplay. Being the recipient of that intense focus and dominant need was impossible to resist.

“Brian . . .” Her hips arched in an effort to take more of him.

“Do you want my baby, Layla?” he purred darkly, rolling his hips to slide even deeper. “Are you hoping you’ll walk away with a piece of me inside you?”

“You’ve always been inside me,” she whispered.

Lowering his hips, he drove in to the hilt with a low hiss of pleasure. The headboard tapped against the wall. “You’re asking me to let you go, while you’re trying to hold on to something of me? Someone who’s part of me?”

Her legs lifted and wrapped around his muscular thighs, holding him at that delicious point where he filled every centimeter of her. “Shut up, Brian. You’re the one who wanted to f*ck instead of talk.”

Reaching behind him, he caught her wrist and pulled her hand up and away from his back. He pinned it to the mattress beside her head, then did the same with her other arm. His face was tight and hard with lust, his eyes dark, his sensual mouth drawn into a thin line. He withdrew slowly, stroking her inner walls with the wide head of his cock. Then he thrust home hard, ramming the headboard into the wall.

Layla bit her lip to stifle a moan. Heated pleasure raced through her veins.

“I’ll have to take you slow and easy,” he bit out, his jaw clenched tight. “Damn bed.”

She tightened around him just to torment him.

“Witch.” Circling his hips, he put pressure on her throbbing *.

Her head pressed hard into the pillow as an orgasm hovered just out of reach.

Releasing her, he shoved another pillow under her shoulders. “Watch me f*cking you, Layla. Watch what you do to me.”

Brian pulled out, his cock thick and glistening. “See how hard you make me? I’m so hot for you. I’ll never have enough of this, never have enough of you.”


He eased the heavily veined length back inside her, his teeth grinding audibly.

“It’s so good,” she breathed, wanting it to last nearly as badly as she wanted to come. “You feel so good.”

“As good as it gets,” he said hoarsely, snaring her wrists again. “You know it, too. We’re it for each other, baby. There’s no one else out there for us. You can’t tell me to settle. I won’t.”

He withdrew to the tip, then surged into her in a slow, deep glide. His harsh groan reverberated through the room. His head hung over her, his broad shoulders shivering as her p-ssy rippled helplessly around his hardness.

“I love you,” Layla whispered, her entire being filled with a desperate longing. “I love you so much.”

He caught her mouth with his own, his lips slanting across hers. His hips rose and fell, shafting her aching p-ssy with measured leisurely thrusts. Her pinioned hands clenched and released as she ate ravenously at his mouth, suckling his tongue as she longed to do to his cock. Sweat coated their skin, their bodies flexing and arching and straining together, their hips meeting each other with rhythmic erotic slaps. His heavy testicles swayed and smacked against her buttocks with every deep plunge, his chest heaving as the pleasure tore through them both.

The controlled pace was both maddening and delicious. They writhed against each other, driven by the need for a hard pounding tempo that would dull the reality of their inevitable parting.

Brian withdrew suddenly. She cried out in protest, her womb spasming with need.

“F*ck this noisy bed,” he growled. He hauled her up and carried her to the wall by the bathroom, pinning her to the flat surface with a desperate thrust into her.

She gasped at the rough impalement, potently aroused by his ferocity, knowing it came from the need to ignore the swiftly passing time.

“ Yes,” he hissed as her p-ssy spasmed in greedy delight. “Hold on, baby.”

Clenching her hips in a fierce grip, he worked her up and down on his throbbing erection, his thrusts fast and furious.

She moaned, her nails digging into his back. “Harder. Deeper. Yes. Oh God . . . I’m coming.”

He f*cked through her climax, dragging it out, making it last, watching her quake with the force of the sensations tearing through her. “That’s it. Give it to me, Layla.”

Finally, the racking tension left her. Her body sagged in the aftermath of the violent orgasm. But Brian kept working her, slamming his hips against hers as he shoved his way through the tightened grip of her sated p-ssy.

As the pleasure built again, Layla moaned. “Brian.”

“One more time,” he rasped, the strain of holding out evident in his tightly clenched jaw.

Grinding his pelvis against her *, he brought her off. He cursed as she cried out and rippled along his length, his cock jerking as he came in thick spurts of white-hot semen.

His knee hit the wall with a harsh thud; his big body crowded hers as he leaned into her for support. With his lips to her throat, he groaned through the wrenching orgasm, clutching her hard while she trembled in his arms.

“I love you.” He nuzzled his perspiration-slick forehead against her cheek. “And your golden p-ssy, as you called it, is going to kill me. It’s going to suck the life right out of me one day. But, man . . . what a way to go.”

Layla laughed, his humor unexpected and welcome. She felt him smile against her skin, the moment as intimate as the climax they’d just shared. He stumbled back to the bed with her, staying inside her, even as they sank back into the mattress.

She pushed her hands into his sweat-soaked hair and held him close. “I want you to be happy. I want that more than anything in the world.”

“I know.” He pushed his arms beneath her shoulders and squeezed her.

“I don’t want to make you miserable.”

“Then stop talking about this, Layla.”

“That is so like a man,” she muttered. “Ignore a situation and hope it goes away.”

He nipped the tender spot between her neck and shoulder with his teeth. “I’m not promising to forget you or move on without you. Give it up.”

“Promise me you won’t let my memory get in the way of having a good life.” Her fingers massaged his scalp. “I can’t bear the thought of you waiting around for another chance that we might see each other a decade or more down the road.”

He lifted his head and looked down at her. “And if I did run across you, will you have moved on? Will you be married and happy?”

The mere thought caused physical pain in her chest. Perceptive as he was, Brian saw it. “Thought so. I rest my case.”

“Brian—”

“Go to sleep.”

She wondered how she was supposed to do that, with his heavy body atop hers and his cock still inside her. But she would never complain. She wanted the feeling imprinted on her skin, a vivid memory she would hold on to in the years to come.