Chapter Twenty-Six-The Switch Out
Layla laid on her side on the couch, absentmindedly twirling a lock of her hair as she watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer reruns. Though the television was on, her mind just wasn't focused on her favorite villain. She thought of him; she thought of him daily. She was worried he would do her the same way as all her previous boyfriends had - he would hurt her just like they did. But deep down, past her doubts, she knew he wouldn't do that to her – he was different than the rest of her ex's. But still, it didn't stop the incessant doubt that continued to haunt her. Some would say, she is paranoid. Some would say she's worrying over nothing. And some would tell her to hold on to that gut feeling that told her, "He is the one."
Old memories began to surface as she debated on which instinct to trust.
***
Two years ago
Layla had pulled out all the stops for tonight – getting completely dolled-up and ready for her sixth date with Trevor Jordan. He was... as her best friend, James, would say, 'eye candy.' He bore such deep, oceanic blue eyes, thick, long lashes that any woman would be envious of. His facial structure was perfection. Sharp, defined jawbones, a straight nose that resembled that of a model and luscious full lips; lips she was dying to kiss, again. They were so soft, silky -- tempting. Trevor reached a height of at least six foot and had the body of a God. Rippling muscles laid under his fitting t-shirt, his rear was easily seen through any pair of denim jeans, firm and round. A thick head of brown spiked hair that she could envision running her fingers through was always fixed to perfection.
She couldn't understand how someone of his league would want to date her? But, he seemed genuine when he'd asked her out, and she thought that after the first date that he wouldn't call back. She never put out on the first date and that usually helps weed through the users and abusers, it initially sent most guys in the opposite direction to look for another slut.
They didn't want a commitment; they wanted sex. She learnt pretty quickly which ones wanted to get into her pants when they said those three magic words after their first date, "I'll call you." The Kiss of Death, so to speak. 'I'll call you' was a sign that meant they had no intentions of calling her. They either got what they wanted on the first date, or they ditched her and spoke the Kiss of Death.
Trevor actually called her back. It amazed her, and yet, she was still so uncertain about him. He was too good to be true. Sweet as chocolate. Athletic. And gorgeous doesn't even cover it, and as an added perk, he was a gentleman. He opened her car door for her when they went out or opened the restaurant door for her as a man should.
She always trusted her instincts. This time she wished that she had, it would have saved her a heartbreak that she would feel the sting of betrayal for years to come.
Twenty minutes passed and Trevor hadn't called or shown up as planned. It was 8:36pm and time was slowly ticking away. Her brows dipped with concern. She was beginning to worry, and the pit in her stomach began to fill with gnawing anxiety.
Trevor lived about twenty-five minutes outside of the city in a one-story, white-panel-sided house with blue shutters around the windows and a blue front door to match. It was extremely elegant for a single.
When she pulled onto the curb, she immediately recognized his car parked in the driveway. Her brows knitted, pinching deeply – her lips turned downward into a deep concerning frown. Her thoughts went wild with 'what ifs.'
Had something happened to him? Did something happen to a family member that he couldn't call and forewarn her? Was he robbed? Was it over between them? Did he just get tired of her and gave up before it even had a chance to begin, really?
As she glanced into her rear-view mirror, her worried expression stared back at her. Her eyes burned with increasing panic and anxiety. Her skin glistened with a sheen layer of sweat, and she chewed on the skin on the corner of her bottom lip. What if he was murdered and she walked into a bloody massacre?
Biting her lip and drawing blood, she climbed out of the driver's side and quietly closed her door so as to not alert anyone of her presence. She then walked up to the door - and as she got ready to knock, she heard a moan coming from inside the house.
Layla's frown turned into a grimace, her heart sped inside her chest cavity, drumming, drumming, drumming to a fast beat, and her pulse thundered so loudly in her ears that the whoosh, whoosh, whoosh almost deafened her. Another moan caught her attention sending a bolt of burning adrenaline through her veins, anger simmering just underneath the surface. She could feel a fire stoking in the pit of her stomach, the moaning adding fuel to the already growing wild fire building inside of her.
She swallowed hard and forced herself to give Trevor the benefit of the doubt. Her car keys began to cut into the soft flesh of her palm as she tightly gripped them in her right hand, her left-hand curling around the doorknob. There were two possibilities to consider once she stepped foot inside. The first: Trevor had somehow gotten injured and couldn't reach the phone to call for help. (That one didn't seem plausible at all. The moans did not sound like that of someone who'd been injured.) The second: he was with a girl. But she didn't want to think that he would ever even consider doing that to her. She would rather think that he was hurt than think that he would cheat on her. He had told her on their last date that he wanted only her -- she believed him because he seemed genuine expressing that to her.
Why would he lie straight to her face? Why wouldn't he just tell her that it wasn't working out between them instead of putting her through the pain and agonizing heartache that she was inevitably about to go through? Why do men do this to women? Why can't they just be upfront and blatantly (even brutally honest if the situation called for it), honest with the people they are supposed to be with? Women would be more understanding if men would tell them the truth instead of hiding it and going behind their back to sleep with another woman.
She vividly remembered as Trevor lightly gripped her chin with his forefinger and thumb, his deep, blue eyes penetrating hers as he brought his free hand to interlock in hers, intertwining their fingers, "You're so beautiful. You're smart and interesting. You've no idea what you do to me every time I see you. I can't control myself. I want you." He spoke with a soft, husky whisper as his finger stroked sensitive skin on the under part of her palm.
He sounded genuine. He seemed heartfelt. Everything about him screamed trust me. His intense and penetrating eyes, his deep, husky whisper drew her in even more than she thought possible. As the fifth date ended, she invited him into her apartment and that's when things began to heat up. They started by lightly making-out before it began to progress into something more intimate and romantic. She finally decided to give him a chance and went all the way with Trevor. It was intense; intimate and lightly rough with a little bit of kink. He knew how to tease her in all the right places. He pinned her wrists above her head and took his time with her, showing her body all the right affections, light caresses on her inner thigh, licking across her hip bone, kissing just underneath her jawline, teasing and testing her body just how she liked it.
She liked him but her heart was screaming at her like a prison alarm system, telling her to run - and her mind was telling her to stay, give him a chance. Trust him. And that was her mistake. Trusting him. He'd even had the chance to meet her Mother and Father and, surprisingly, they approved. Well, she assumed that they pretended to approve, when in actuality, her Mother warned her that he was trouble. She was intuitive like no one she'd ever met before, and she learnt to trust her Mother's intuition. She told Layla not to give her heart away to him so willingly, that in the end, the outcome would be devastating to her and that it would be inevitable and impossible to avoid. She always had this weird vibe when she met people, especially when it came to the men in her daughter's life. It was like she could tell which one's were trustworthy of her daughter's heart and which one's were only after sex.
"You need to end it. He's only after one thing. He doesn't want your heart, baby girl, but if you give into him and give him what he wants, he will break your heart -- your soul. I know how much you like this one, baby, but he isn't the one. I'm sorry."
Her Mother had said those words to her on her and Trevor's third date, but she didn't listen, she didn't heed to her Mother's wishes because she wanted to believe that her Mother was wrong for once. Maybe it was blind lust that caused her to keep seeing Trevor, or maybe it was more than that. Maybe she just didn't want to be alone and have to go through a painful breakup, and then start from scratch all over again. She wasn't sure which theory it was, but she did know that her Mother was right. As per usual.
The memory faded and reality set in. The cold metal bit into her palm, a chilling reminder of what she was about to encounter. A man with a heart of ice. She twisted the silver doorknob and pushed it open enough to quietly step in and close it silently, making sure to keep all noise to a minimum. She stood there looking around, examining his house, unsure if she really wanted to go investigate the source of the moaning, or if she wanted to tuck tail and run, denial nipping at the back of her ankles. Of course, logic and rationality kicked in and took control.
Inside the house appeared normal. Oak hardwood floors, deep brown leather sectional with matching recliners sat in the living room. The kitchen was decent sized. Stainless steel appliances glittered at every corner, refrigerator, stove, microwave, toaster. The walls were painted a deep, oceanic blue almost matching Trevor's eyes. Her gaze fixed on the hallway as more moans tugged at her heartstrings, unraveling little by little the longer she stood there avoiding the confrontation.
The noises were coming from down the hallway; the master bedroom. She listened intently, debating whether or not to follow her heart - or follow her mind. In the end, she found her feet shuffling forward, following the soft feminine moans that seemed to linger in the hallway, almost as if teasing her in the cruelest way possible. She prepared herself for the inevitable heartbreak. She now knew he was cheating. She knew it the moment she heard the first pleasure-filled moan at the entrance to his house.
But still, no matter what she did to prepare herself for heartbreak, it didn't and couldn't help dampen what was to come. Her heart was already shattering into thousands of irreparable pieces. Betrayal burned within her, filling her heart with such deep sorrowful emotions that tears began to prick at the corners of her eyes, salty tears stinging her eyes.
Nothing would shield and protect her heart from what her gaze took in as she stepped into Trevor's bedroom.
He was naked with a fake-tanned blonde straddled him, riding him nice and slow. Her breath caught in her throat, a lump lodging so tightly in her esophagus that she felt as if she couldn't swallow at all, let alone breathe. Layla's chest tightly constricted as if by a Boa Constrictor, her eyes stayed glued to the pair in front of her as hot tears welled up and continuously slid down her cheeks. The pain was so unbearable that her heart literally felt as if a knife had been plunged in as deep as possible, twisting the blade until there was nothing left but ribbons of muscle.
How could he do this to her? How could she be so stupid? So trusting? She should've listened to her Mother. She should have listened to her instincts. But being alone was something she didn't want to be. However, she never expected to be betrayed by the one man she thought she could build a future with. Instead, she ignored her heart and pushed her Mother's advice to the back of her mind. Maybe she was meant to be alone. Maybe she was cursed to draw in men who were losers, cheaters, and ultimately, men who kill her chances at a relatively normal, happy relationship.
An audible gasp left her trembling lips, causing Trevor to flick his lust-filled gaze over to where Layla stood, broken, leaning on the doorframe in the doorway. He pushed the woman off of him and jumped out of the bed so fast that he got caught up in the twisted sheets and fell on his left knee. A hiss left his mouth as he untangled himself from the sheets and stood on shaky legs, excuses already filling behind those blue eyes she loved staring into so much.
She could already hear the excuses as they fly from his dirty mouth. He would try to talk, maybe even beg his way out of it.
He was caught. Busted. There's no talking his way out of this one.
"Layla. It's not what it looks like."
That was such a cliché line. Of course, it was exactly what it looked like. She didn't just fall and land on his penis. Swiping the pads of her thumbs underneath her eyes, she cleared a fresh stream of tears away as her heart began to painfully squeeze in her chest.
"Yeah? Looks like you're sleeping with someone else, Trevor. How could you do this to me? Why didn't you just tell me you didn't want to continue seeing one another instead of cheating on me with some other woman?" She whispered, pain lacing her tone.
She didn't even give him a chance to explain before she turned and ran out. It took her months to get over the betrayal, the pain of heartbreak that he caused her. She eventually met someone else. And he helped ease the pain she was still suffering with. He helped fill the gaping hole that Trevor left in her heart.
When she met Drake Harrington, she again, put her trust in a man. He was the same as Trevor. A gentleman and was sexier than Trevor. He had shoulder-length light brown hair, a broad chest with a taut eight pack. He worked out every week. He was serious about his health and his looks. He even encouraged her to work out with him when he went to the gym.
They dated for two months and everything was perfect. She'd fell hard for him. He treated her like a princess. She'd decided that she was going to tell him that she loved him and they should take their relationship to the next level. When the day came and six o'clock rolled around, she texted him telling him to meet her at the diner where she worked. Then from there, they would go to 'Angelina' the elegant and sophisticated restaurant she made reservations for weeks in advance.
She was excited and nervous. How would he react? Would he return her love? Would he leave her? Questions ricocheted around in her skull like a basketball bouncing on the court as she walked towards the small diner. It was warm out. Spring just ended and Summer had begun to peek out. The sky was painted with a myriad of oranges, pinks, and deep purples as the sun set.
Layla had decided on wearing a silky red-blouse that dipped slightly low, but tastefully so, showing her cleavage. She matched it with a tight, leather black skirt that was designed with a high slit on the side that rose to her mid-upper thigh and paired it with black stilettos. Her make-up was done with perfection, of course. Smokey eyes, glossed red lips, smooth foundation and contouring even. She really went all out for him.
As she followed the Hostess to her table and was sat in a booth, she ordered herself and him a glass of Dom Perignon and waited. Five minutes passed. Five minutes turned into ten, and ten turned into twenty. Thirty minutes passed. She softly sighed as she pulled her phone out of her purse and sent him a text. She waited another five minutes and looked at her phone. Her message wasn't received. He must have had his phone off. She sighed and walked out of the restaurant wearing a disappointed expression and went home. Maybe he had got caught up at work. He was a trainer at the gym. Sometimes that happened.
As she walked around the corner, passing the restaurant 'BB3', she glanced in and saw Drake kissing some brunette. She froze, unable to peel her eyes away from the scene unfolding before her. She couldn't believe it. She just stared in shock. It didn't even register that she was once again being cheated on. Once the shock wore off and reality began to set in, she almost crumple to the ground as pain gripped her chest, her heart. Her mind began to unravel – she was becoming a mess. The routine she kept finding herself in was happening too much.
She'd gave him her heart, let him in and trusted him with everything in her. She let him pick up the pieces after Trevor betrayed her. Layla cupped her hand over her mouth before walking away on shaky legs. Once she got in the safe confines of her home, where she could be alone, she unleashed every feeling of misery, despair, and the scorching burn of betrayal until she could no longer feel the crushing pain in her chest. She slid to the floor and cried heavily -- curling in on herself, hugging her knees to her chest.
Not again, she thought. She whispered brokenly, "Not again. I can't breathe."
Why did this keep happening to her? Was she such a lousy girlfriend that the men in her life had to find happiness somewhere else? Why did she keep reliving this curse with every man she met?
She texted Drake and told him it was over, that she saw him with some girl. He never texted her back, but he did see her message. Guess he didn't care for her like she had hoped. Would she ever find a man who treated her well and gave a damn?
Layla's sniffled and recomposed herself, feeling her heart hardened just a little more. She couldn't take this anymore. If she didn't stop this vicious cycle, then she would be doomed to repeat it with every man she dated. It had to end sometime and she could choose when the time came.
A year has passed and she still remained single. When she had fell for Drake, she never expected to push men away. It took her a whole year to get over the pain that Drake had inflicted. When she was finally pain free, willing to try again, she met another man. Would she repeat the same cycle as the last two?
She was working the evening shift at the diner when Rick Jefferson walked into her life. They immediately connected. It was like fate. They had so much in common. He was good looking with brown cheek-length hair, his lip was pierced and he was built well. He wore a black leather jacket, his ear was pierced at the top and the lobe, and he drove a red FXR2 Harley-Davidson. The bike was as sexy as he was. And it made her like him all the more. He looked like a bad boy, but he had a good heart. He had a sleeve of tats and a half sleeve on his left arm. His chest and back was decorated with tattoos. He played the bad boy part well. Maybe too well.
After some time talking, getting to know one another, Rick moved in with her. He told her he loved her and she loved him. They had been in a relationship for eight months and she thought he was the one she would spend the rest of her life with. But one night she came home and found Rick sprawled out in her bed with a blonde, naked. They were sleeping. She didn't even bother with tears and she didn't bother with waking them up, she just turned and walked back out and went to the bar, her heart hardening even more.
After so many heartaches, Rick finally made her see clearly; that all men were capable of cheating no matter how many times they say they love you.
That night she called her Mother and told her what happened. Her mother consoled her but told her she didn't trust Rick and never had. Layla was past drunk when she asked her Mother why she never told her this. Her Mother, Amber, replied, "Because you were so head-over-hills in love with him that I knew you'd never listen to me. You wouldn't believe me. You never do, Layla. You always have to find out the hard way that the men in your life will always hide secrets from you. They will always do you wrong. Even your Father has done things that were unforgivable, but I stayed and we worked it out. But you, you need to really search soul deep and there you will find the thread that will stretch out and lead you to the perfect man for you."
Another man down the drain. Would she ever find her true love? Would she ever find her soulmate?
While she was at the bar, she saw Trevor. Then she saw his friends and singled one out. From there she would show him what pain felt like. She knew he had to have cared for her a little. And if he did, well, trouble would follow. And it did. Her plan worked... a little too well. She didn't end up taking the friend home, but she did feel a little smug. Pain was pain. Jealousy was a form of pain. And Trevor was jealous. She walked away from the fighting men and went home feeling a little too smug.
She was on the verge of saying screw men and remaining single. She perched on her bed remembering when she was a child and things were less complicated and no heart break followed. She wished she could go back to those days where she had love with her Mother and Father and didn't repeatedly have her heart shattered by anyone because she was too young to give her heart away.
She closed her eyes and thought back to the good ol'days.
***
"Layla. Come help me bake some cookies, Hun. You're ten years old now, I trust you with certain kitchen appliances." Her Mother, Amber, smiled sweetly as she slid the bowl over to Layla. Layla grinned, and began mixing the cookie dough stealing bites here and there when her Mother had her back turned. They rounded out each cookie precisely and then placed them in the pan, Layla then put them in the preheated oven.
Her Mother looked at her and smiled sweetly, patting the wooden chair beside her as they sat at the island in the middle of the kitchen. It held all of her pans, spoon, forks, the works. Layla sat down, curiously tilting her head at her Mother. The look in her Mother's eyes was different. Like she had something important to tell her.
Her Mother looked at her as she spoke softly, "My Daughter. There will come a day when you will find love. But remember, finding love doesn't mean you can hold onto it. It doesn't necessarily mean that you've done anything wrong either. It just means that the man was selfish and uncaring. He will break your heart, Layla, probably a few times too many, if you let him. There are signs you need to look out for as you reach the dating age.
Through your teen years you will think you're in love, but it's only an infatuation. When the boy breaks your heart the first time, learn from your mistakes and carry them with you to your adulthood. When you reach adulthood, and you think you've found the one, it feels as if you fall in love so deeply that you can't get out and you don't want to. But, my darling, you can get out. You can avoid future heartbreak. Don't give your heart to them so easily. I know you don't understand right now, but you will remember my words, baby girl.
You can continue on with your life no matter how much it hurts, no matter how much you scream and cry, wondering what you did wrong - you will push through it and you will learn how to shield your heart from the aching that will devour it. Love can be painful, agonizing, and just right down hard, but it can also bring you happiness and pure bliss so long as you find the right one. The man who is meant for you. Love at first sight is real, and one day your soulmate will come and you will experience the good side of love, the love at first sight. Keep going no matter what. He will come for you. Don't let a few heart breaks keep you from finding true love, Layla. Persevere and pick yourself back up and keep going when you think it's too hard to push through, that's when you have to."
Layla took her Mother's heartfelt words to heart, and later the next day, her Father sat her down, too. She found it very weird that they had both felt the need to talk to her. She wasn't interested in boys yet. Well, she wasn't exactly turning down boys at school either.
"Look, I'm going to make this short because this is uncomfortable for me and I'm sure it will be for you, too. I love you, Sweetheart. You're becoming a young woman and soon you will be dating. Watch who you allow in your heart and mind. There are some who will manipulate you and there are some who will hurt you, use you for whatever they want and then leave you to pick up the pieces of your heart that they broke. I don't want to see this happen to you. You are a strong, brave, and an intelligent girl. I know you will keep your heart safe; but as a precaution, I just want you to know when this happens that I will be here for you. I'm always going to be here for you. And when it happens, just remember that I have a gun and I'm not afraid to use it on them." He winked at her and gave her a soft fatherly smile then wrapped her in a warm embrace that made her feel loved and safe.
Maybe it was because she was getting older and would soon be dating? Either way, she was glad they took time out to talk to her. Her childhood was happy and she was surrounded by love and support in everything she did. They supported her decisions and when they thought her decision wasn't wise, they would sit her down and explain to her why they thought it to be a bad idea. Sometimes she listened, and sometimes she didn't. But still, she loved her life. She loved her parents deeply and took every word, piece of advice, and warnings they had to offer and kept it close to her heart. But as she grew older, she remembered that it would be hard to turn down love the first few times just as her Mother said. Her first few boyfriends in school were her first 'puppy-dog-loves'. But she continued on just as her Mother asked her to.
***
Times back then were less complicated and not messy.
Layla's phone dinged, snapping her out of the past and into the present just as Buffy was making out with Spike. Lucky her.
She picked her phone up and read the message.
"Hello, Doll. Care for a meet up?"
She texted Ryder back with a wide grin on her face.
"Sure. Where?"
A few minutes passed and then her phone dinged again.
"Meet me at the bar across from BB3?"
"Be there in ten minutes."
"Can't wait, Doll." ;)
Layla quickly threw on a light jacket and skinny-legged jeans then pulled on her black knee-high boots. She rushed, touching up her make-up then pulled her hair down and brushed the silky, black locks straight and quickly exited her apartment and to the bar. She was nervous, but only because of the past resurfacing.
There wasn't much traffic that evening. She pulled her jacket tighter around her, shielding her from the October weather. Winter would be brutal this year and Layla hoped that it would quickly pass. She didn't care much for Winter. Though, she did enjoy sleigh-riding. It was a childish thing to do and she had always enjoyed it as a child, and as an adult, it reminded her of good days.
She crossed the street and stared up at the blue neon sign, 'O'Dowds.' She'd been here when Trevor and Rick and Drake had crushed her heart. Was this a sign? She shook her head and went inside. Smoke billowed around her as she pulled the door open. The thick scent of alcohol hit her like a punch to the stomach, she scrunched her nose up in disgust and let her eyes scan through the crowd for Ryder.
Why would he want to meet her here? This was an odd choice for a meet up. Was this a date? Was it just to hang out and talk? Still, it didn't seem like Ryder to choose this type of establishment. Something just felt really off about the whole thing.
Layla spotted Ryder sitting in a booth in the main back of the bar away from everyone else. She made her way over to him, taking in his appearance as always. He was wearing a black leather jacket, black t-shirt that fit him so well she could see his muscles twitching just underneath his shirt. He was wearing faded denim Jeans, black boots and his hair was slicked back to perfection. He was delicious.
She sat down taking her coat off and smiling.
"Hey."
Little did she know, this wasn't Ryder, it was his Brother.
"Hello, Doll," He smirked.
She watched as he studied her with an intense gaze, shifting awkwardly, feeling a bit like a piece of meat that was dangling in front of a Lion. What was going on? Was he going to break it off? God, she didn't think she could handle another one. It would destroy her and leave her an emotionless shell. She would give up on men. She would give up on love. She would just give up.
She could see the gears spinning inside his head. What was up with him? She was beginning to panic but she tried to play it off smooth and see how everything played out.
"How are you, Ryder? I mean, since I last saw you," She blushed. She remembered him pressed against her, his fingers teasing her skin, electrifying her sensitive flesh. She blushed deeper as he smirked. He winked at her, "I'm doing brilliantly. Would you care for a drink?"
She shifted under his penetrating gaze, she could see the curiosity burning in his gaze, and he could see that she was nervous and uncertain of what she was doing.
"Sure. Um, how about a Tequila?"
"Tequila? Nice choice, Doll. You know what they say about Tequila, don't you? Tequila makes your clothes fall off." He grinned toothily, his dimples sexily appearing like a Sailor to a Siren, luring her in with charm.
She blushed furiously and bit her lip, "I um -- I won't be drinking that much."
Rein arched his brow and smiled, "That's too bad. I will be drinking that much."
She giggled, her eyes searching his to see if he was being serious. He was.
"And how will you get your car home?"
He smirked as he replied, "I'll take a cab. I took a cab here because I knew I'd be drinking myself into the abyss."
Rein lit up a fag and then stood and excused himself as he went to the bar and ordered ten shots of Tequila. She wouldn't be leaving here sober. She silently questioned if Ryder was purposely trying to get her intoxicated? She would lay out all of her secrets if she was impaired. She would need to keep her wits about her.
As he paid and carried the tray over to their booth, he inhaled on the fag and exhaling his smoke through his nostrils, leaving a trail of smoke in his wake. He sat down and smirked cockily as he slid a shot to her and then took one in his hand. He grabbed the salt and slowly licked the skin on the top of his hand below where his thumb began and then slid the shaker to her and watched as she did the same. They each grinned at each other and pick up their drinks.
He clinked their shot glasses together, "Cheers, Doll."
She smiled as they both knocked their shots back. She didn't even make a face as the strong liquor made its way down her throat, warmth flowing down her esophagus and into her abdomen.
"Nice. I'm impressed."
He slid her another, the light brown liquid sloshed over the side and she chuckled as they each knocked them back again. Before long, they had each downed five shots, and by this time the alcohol was kicking in for both of them. After her third shot she was feeling good and loose. Two shots later and she was basically drunk. Rein was feeling loose, but not drunk. He looked at her glassy eyes and grinned wide. She wondered if he could see she was off-her-ass drunk. He had a mischievous glint in his dark gaze. That could be either good or bad. She bit her lip and tried to straighten her slumped form.
"So, Doll. Tell me what's on your mind." He inhaled the last hit on his fag and stubbed it out, exhaling as he did so.
Layla slurred a bit, smiling, "You."
Shit! She hadn't meant to say that. She was more truthful when drunk. He definitely had her where he wanted her. What else could he get her to reveal?
Rein smirked cockily, "Yeah?" He got out of his seat from across her and gently pushed her over towards the wall and sat down beside her, placing his hand on her thigh, the pad of his thumb stroking up and down her inner thigh. Heat pooled between her thighs, flooding her veins. He knew what he was doing to her.
"What about me?" He leaned real close, so close that his breath softly caressed the side of her neck as he placed a soft kiss just underneath her ear. She moaned softly and shifted, her thighs tightening against his hand.
Layla slurred thickly, flustered and shrouded by the haze of the alcohol and lust. "I... thinnkk... you areee... sexy."
He chuckled deeply as he moved his hand dangerously close to her center. She was melting. He knew it. He knew every touch made her melt a little more. Every husky word, every light touch turned her into a puddle.
"I am sexy as fuck, Doll. Tell me about you. What are your dreams? What do you want out of life? Did you have a good childhood?"
Layla bit her lip in thought, the buzz of the alcohol was making it difficult to think properly.
"Dreams... my dreamsss are... to go backk to... school and get a degree in helping peoples... What I want... outta life... I want myy sssoulmate and I think... I-I think that's you. I had a great childhood."
She hadn't noticed his brow arch. She hadn't seen the obvious question that filled his eyes. And she hadn't expected him to voice it.
Rein had to know, "Do you love me?"
Layla looked down for a moment before looking directly into his eyes and nodding."Yes. I do. Are you going to run away from me or cheat on me like all the others in my past?"
The question had somewhat sobered her up. It set her nerves alight. She was afraid to admit it because usually something bad always happened. The man ended up cheating on her not long after the confession. Fear consumed her, it ate away at her insides as she impatiently waited for his reply. What would he say? Would he reject her? Would he just up and leave without a word?
His fingers threaded in hers, his eyes softened somewhat as he replied, "I'm not going anywhere, Doll. I hate cheaters with a passion, so, no. I'm not going to cheat on you." Rein looked at her and smiled, his dimples denting his stubble jaws.
She smiled softly, her eyes drooping. She was going to pass out on him. She figured he must've suspected as much because he offered to take her home.
"Shall I take you home?"
She nodded. Rein helped her out of the booth, pulling her jacket back on her and told her to lean all her weight on him. He linked his arm in hers and walked out with her. He whistled, hailing for the yellow cab as it passed by. They slid in (him helping her to the left side of the cab) and told the cabbie the address to her apartment. The driver was balding and pudgy, maybe around his upper-fifties. His cheeks were tinted red. He had high blood pressure. Layla noticed Ryder eyeing the driver and then glancing out of their windows. Was he being careful because of her inebriated state? Did he think they were being followed? Should she be worried?
As he turned back to her, he slid his hand up her sweater, his fingers stroking her side then across the top of her jean-line. She bit her lip to stop the moan and swallowed, tightly clenching her thighs. Between her legs was throbbing -- aching. She would take him here and now if she could. Her legs pressed together, rubbing, trying to soothe the ache at the apex of her thighs. The alcohol intensified every touch. Her need. Her desire for him. It was like he was the spark to her fire.
Rein leaned over and nipped her earlobe hard, which earned him that moan. She liked it rough. She wasn't sure if he did. His breath was hot in her ear as he asked her, "Do you like it rough?"
She shivered, her pebbled peaks hardened against her bra, "Yes."
She could see the intrigue behind his brown eyes. Did he like that she didn't mind rough sex? She wanted to know what he was thinking, but she also wanted his hands on her. She wanted him to rip her clothes off and pin her wrists against the glass window and take her.
"Good. Because one of these days..." He trailed off as he brought his hand to her bra and pulled it down, pinching her hardened nipple. She leaned against him, moaning into his neck. "I'm going to fuck you like you should be fucked. Hard. Deep. Rough."
She was now painfully pulsating for him. Her core was on fire and her panties were soaked. He did things to her no other ever did. She sucked on her lip as his words set her skin alight. Tingles skittered across her heated skin. All she could do was breath heavily, trying to calm her racing heart, the aching between her thighs. She didn't care about the cabbie as he flicked his eyes back at them through his mirror.
The cab came to a stop at her apartment all-to-soon and she let out a groan of disappointment. Rein smirked then he helped her out of the vehicle, telling the cabbie to wait for him then led her to the complex's front door. As Rein helped her up the stairs and to her apartment door, she grabbed her keys from her jacket pocket and fumbled, trying to find the right key. She unlocked the door and turned back to him.
"Thank you. For tonight. I had..." she trailed off, blushing deep red, "fun."
"So did I. We should do this again soon. Real soon."
She looked at him nervously. He knew what she wanted because he tugged her tightly to his chest and kissed her fiercely, slipping his tongue in, tasting her, stroking her tongue with his. He gently grabbed her wrists, the pad of his thumb stroking over her pulse point then backed her against the door, his body pressing firmly against hers. His knee slid between her thighs, teasingly grinding against her core. She moaned as his knee teased her center and deepened the kiss. They kissed until they were each breathless and then he pulled back with a grin.
"Goodnight, Doll."
He walked away leaving her standing there still feeling the fiery touch of his lips and the desperate need between her legs. She stood there in a daze, his whistling of a lullaby echoed down the hallway pulling her from her thoughts. Why didn't he come in? He knew she wanted him. So, why didn't he take the opportunity she was giving him?
She licked away the ghostly touch of his lips and went inside and straight to her bed, not bothering with changing and laid down, almost instantly falling asleep. Would she dream of Ryder or The Ghost?