Luke steps forward. Immediately, Layla lunges for him, swallowing him down. He sputters, cupping her cheeks, obviously trying not to thrust into her mouth as she runs her lips sloppily up and down his shaft. Trying to start off gentle, I roll my hips. She yowls as I shove myself deep inside her, her whole body shaking and twisting. Ignoring the delicious fluttering around my dick, I pick up the pace, steadily pounding into her. Her sharp, muffled gasps start to mix with Luke’s low groans.
We can’t keep it up for long. I wish it would have lasted longer, but I’m too bottled up, and Layla is far too sensitive after being teased for an hour straight. It barely takes two minutes before she’s writhing against me, her thighs soaked with arousal, whimpering and sighing around Luke. Luke looks like he’s right on the edge. “Layla,” he orders, sifting through her hair. “Tell me what you want.”
“Come on me,” she manages to say, swallowing him down deeper. Apparently, that’s all he needed to hear. He yanks out of her mouth a second before he’s about to lose control, spraying his come over her chest in thick ropes. Layla pants as the hot liquid dribbles over her, glazing her soft, white breasts in come. The sight is so goddamn hot it tips me over the edge.
“L—” I start, and she purposefully screws her arse back into me, clenching around me. I fist a hand in her hair, throwing my head back as I thrust into her one last time. Plunging as deep as I can, I finally lose it. Stars burst behind my eyes, and my dick pulses as I flood into her, spurting deep inside her. She sputters as I fill her up, her hands clawing at the sheets as she gasps and comes one last time. Luke and I both grip onto her, holding her shakily as she convulses, shouting and sobbing.
FIFTY-TWO
JOSH
Eventually, she flops onto the mattress between us, gasping. She’s a mess. Sweaty and wet all over. Frothy come drips down her front and slips out from between her legs. Little shivers keep flinching through her, like she’s getting shocked.
I pull out of her as gently as I can. Layla shivers at the gush of warm liquid that drips over her skin. For a few seconds, no one says anything.
“How are the sheets?” She mumbles eventually, and I laugh breathlessly.
“Impressively clean,” Luke says. “We’ll have to dry you off, though. Don’t move.”
She obediently lays there, panting, while we pluck tissues from the box on the nightstand and carefully wipe off her hot skin. Luke strips off the crumpled bedding and replaces it with a set lying folded in the wardrobe. I slide a tissue down Layla’s peachy bum, soaking up the come dripping over her skin.
“Leave it,” she groans. “Want you inside me.” She’s still trembling.
“Yeah?” I climb into bed next to her. “Are you okay? Cold?”
She shakes her head and burrows into my neck. “Don’t think so.”
“You’re shaking,” Luke says quietly.
“You broke me,” she says with a sigh. I kiss her sweaty temple, wrapping the sheets tighter around her and tugging her into my arms. Luke lies down on her other side, sandwiching her in. She slowly calms down between us, her shivers slowing, then stopping. I keep stroking her hair, catching my breath.
“Is she alright?” Luke asks after a few moments. “She’s gone quiet.”
I check her face and smile. “She’s falling asleep.”
“I guess we wore her out,” he murmurs, reaching across the bedside table to flick off the lamp.
“Mm.” I pull her a little closer to me. “I missed this.”
He’s still for a moment, then nods. “Me, too.”
Zack is still up, moving around the dark room. I hear him fumbling around in the bathroom, then dropping to his knees next to the bed and rummaging through his suitcase. I glance at the digital clock glowing on the bedside table. It’s past midnight. April 5th.
No wonder he can’t sleep.
“Are you going to the bar?” I ask into the darkness. “Need me to go with you?”
He pauses. “Why would I go to the bar? Gotta be fresh to see Robbie get hitched tomorrow.” He pulls something out of his case and heads to the wardrobe. “Forgot to hang my suit.”
“Come to bed,” Layla mumbles into my chest, stirring.
I hear the wardrobe door shut. “But all the good spots are gone, lass.”
I sigh, trying to peel Layla off me. “You can hold her, if you like.”
The mattress dips on my right. “Nah, man.” He rolls so his back is to me. “But I’m cuddlin’ her tomorrow.”
“Of course,” I say quietly.
“‘M not a teddy bear,” Layla protests tiredly, snuggling closer into me. “I get to pick who I hug.”
I thread my fingers through her hair, my eyes wide open in the dark. Six weeks ago, I’d never have imagined that I could be here, with her in my arms.
Again, that old pang of guilt runs through me. Would she have agreed to do this if she’d known I had feelings for her?
I don’t know.
Pushing my worries about Layla to the back of my mind, I close my eyes, letting myself drift off. I’m almost asleep when a phone beeps.
Zack groans, rolling over and slapping around the bedside table. There are some muffled thuds as complimentary chocolates fall onto the carpet, but eventually he manages to grab the offending phone. “S’yours, L,” he mutters.
She hums, not moving from my chest.
He rubs his eyes, squinting at the bright screen. “You’re gonna wanna read it. S’an email. From Anna Bidet, or whatever her name is.”
“What?” Layla bolts upright in bed, lunging for the phone. I wince and sit up as she rubs against my crotch, pulling her against my chest. “What is it?” I ask, brushing her dishevelled hair out of her face so she can see the screen.
“Oh my God,” she breathes, her body humming with excitement as she reads the email. “Anna’s flying me over. The ticket is for next Sunday.”
Next Sunday. My stomach drops. That’s in eight days. Eight days, and she’ll be out of the country.
“How long will you be out there?” Luke asks into his pillow.
“She doesn’t know.” Layla turns to look at me in the dark. “Crap, what if it clashes with the podcast?”
“We ain’t recording long-distance,” Zack grumbles. “There’s no way to get the audio mixed the same. Tried it before when Luke went to visit his family. It sounded like he was at the bottom of a well.”
“The convention is next Saturday,” I say slowly, reaching up to trace a finger across Layla’s ribs. “Maybe we should finish up your segment then.”
Zack goes still. “What?”
I swallow, my throat tight. “We could go out with a bang,” I say, trying to sound enthusiastic. “Do the finale at the live show. We can publish it for listeners later.”
“It would be a good way to wrap up the segment,” Luke agrees tiredly. “People will get to meet Layla, ask her questions.”
“It’s too soon,” Zack argues. “PodFest is like, a week away. We can’t end the whole segment then.”
“We said it would only be six weeks,” I remind him. He tosses me a glare.
I know what he’s feeling. He doesn’t want to let Layla go. He doesn’t want this ‘experiment’ to end. God knows I don’t either, but it’s not like we have a choice. This was only ever meant to be a short-term arrangement. We agreed on that.
If Layla were any other woman, I’d assume that we’d just keep sleeping together. Everyone’s enjoying themselves; there’s no reason we can’t carry on a casual relationship. But Layla won’t want to waste away the next few months screwing around. As soon as we’ve done that live show, I’m sure she’ll be back on her dating grind, flicking through dating apps and eating dinner with two men a week until she finds the perfect guy for her.
I don’t know how I’m going to handle watching her fall for someone else. But I have to.
“The live show,” Layla says. “Yeah, that’s perfect.” She bounces a bit on my lap. “I hope I’ll be back in time for my class reunion. I wanna show off.”
I clear my throat. “Do… you want me to go with you to your reunion? As your plus-one?”
“Nope. My classmates already think I’m a slag, I can’t bring my boss with me.” She squints at Zack and Luke. “I can’t take you guys, either. They’ll think I’m a WAG if I go with Zack, and God knows what will happen if I show up on a teacher’s arm. I can do it myself. Oh my God, I already have so many design ideas for Anna.” She leans forward, trying to slide out of my arms.
Luke wraps an arm around her waist and tugs her back down. “Not now,” he orders. “Sleep.”