Golden Trail (62 page)

He smacked her ass again. “Rocky –”

“Yes,” she breathed into his mouth. “Yes,
Layne, I’ll be your good girl.”

Then she slammed down on his cock, ground
into him and her head shot back so fiercely it took his hand with
it and she moaned deep as her pussy convulsed around him.

He whipped her to her back and drove into
her, his mouth on hers, taking her moans and whimpers while she
absorbed his grunts, riding her until his world exploded and he
poured himself into Rocky.

After he came down, he stayed rooted inside
her and ran his nose, his lips and his tongue along her neck, ear
and jaw and she held him safe, wrapped tight in all four of her
limbs.

When he had his face in her neck, she turned
her head and in his ear, whispered, “Love you, Layne.”

Layne stayed where he was, still and
unmoving as he let the golden trail of her words glide through him
then he lifted his head and looked at Raquel, her hair spread out
on his bed, her face gentle, her pussy still hot and wet, her body
soft under his and he whispered back, “Love you too, baby.”

He dipped his head and kissed her, not hard,
but long, his tongue sliding in her mouth, tasting her, so sweet,
and she gave, even sweeter until he broke off the kiss, sliding his
nose alongside hers.

“I gotta go clean up,” she whispered.

“I’ll be here,” he replied, pulled out and
rolled off her.

He watched her move gracefully from the bed,
find his tee and she tugged it on as she moved to the bathroom.

Layne got under the covers and rested
against the headboard, listening to Rocky in his bathroom and he
was thinking they could move the entirety of her living room
furniture in his room when she walked out and wandered to his bed,
her strut fluid and lazy and he liked it more knowing the laziness
came from the orgasm he just gave her.

She pulled back the covers and climbed in,
scooting over until she settled with her cheek to his chest, her
arm around him, she tangled a leg with his. He pushed his arm under
her, pulled up her tee and cupped her bared ass with his hand.

That was new too. If he fucked her, she
slept without underwear. She didn’t used to do that.

He liked it.

He moved and turned out the lamp on the
nightstand, plunging the room into blackness but she didn’t make a
noise.

He settled back and ran his hand over the
cheek of her ass. “Did I hit you too hard?” he murmured.

She shook her head slightly against his
chest, her arm getting tight a second and she mumbled,
“Unh-unh.”

He grinned in the dark. “You liked it.”

It was a statement.

She didn’t respond except to curl deeper
into him which
was
her response. She liked it.

“I dream of you,” he told her and
that
caused a response. Her head came up and she looked at
him through the dark.

“What?” she asked.

“After you came to visit me in the hospital,
I started dreaming of you. Every night. Even when I was in the
hospital, I dreamed of you. I still do.”

“Really?” she whispered.

“Yep,” he replied.

“Wow,” she breathed and his hand moved to
find her face, cupping her jaw he pulled her up as his neck bent.
Then he touched his lips to hers.

After, he said softly, “Yeah, wow. More than
wow, sweetcheeks, in my dreams, we’re almost always fucking.”

Her head moved back an inch and her hand
slid up his chest to curl her fingers where his shoulder met his
neck.

“Really?” she repeated.

“Oh yeah,” he whispered.

“Is it good?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s good. As good as what we just
did, not by a long shot but it’s good. I haven’t dreamed of us
having sex since you came back but I still dream of you. You talk
to me.”

Her body got tight and she asked, “Talk to
you?”

“Yeah.”

“What do I say?”

“You wake me up. Tell me you need to get to
work. The two times I was at your place, you told me to get home to
my boys.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep.”

She relaxed then asked, “Why?”

“What?”

“Why?” Rocky repeated. “Why are you dreaming
of me?”

“No clue,” Layne answered. “But I like
havin’ you here and there.” He pulled her face to his until their
lips were touching. “Best of both worlds.”

He felt her smile then he kissed her
lightly, released her jaw and she moved down to rest against his
chest again.

“So, you going to tell me what you learned
with your search?” she prompted.

After he’d kissed her at her place, he’d
rendez voused with Ryker who was waiting by Layne’s truck. Ryker
had told Layne he’d scoped out unit K, apartment three and assured
him he was “on the job” then took off on his Harley. Layne went to
the office, ran his searches, ran more because of the results and
got home in time for his mother to lecture him on punctuality and
courtesy and since dinner was ready, Keira was there again and
Devin was home and visibly salivating to tuck into beef tenderloin,
Layne hadn’t had a chance to brief Rocky.

He did get the chance to watch her eat an
ice cream cone and therefore they went to bed early.

“Both cars are registered to a woman,” Layne
told her. “Victoria Aubry.”

“Victoria Aubry,” Rocky whispered.

“You heard that name?” Layne asked and she
shook her head against his chest so he went on. “She rents the
apartment too. She’s also married to a man named Baxter Aubry.”

Her head came up and he felt her eyes on him
through the dark. “Who’s that?”

“Driver’s license picture in the system
shows he’s TJ Gaines.”

“Oh my,” she breathed.

“Yep,” he replied.

“What else?” she prompted.

“Nothin’,” Layne said and Rocky was
silent.

Then she said, “Nothing?”

“Not one fuckin’ thing. Both of them came
into existence about nine months ago. I’ve run every check there
is, couldn’t find anything. They got credit cards, bank accounts,
own their cars outright, pay their insurance, rent, utilities on
time, except they do it with cash. Only thing they pay with check
is the credit cards which, even though they live high, are cleared
every month.”

“What does this tell you?” she asked.

“Well, seein’ as I dug deeper and found
Victoria Aubry died of a stroke at age eight-two six years ago and
her husband Baxter Aubry died a year and a half later of emphysema,
it tells me the least those two are guilty of is identity
theft.”

“Shit,” she whispered.

“Other than that, not much else,” Layne
finished.

“What’s next?”

“What’s next is, we need a fuckin’ print.
For both of ‘em.”

“Right,” she said softly.

“Baby,” he called and her arm squeezed him
in response. “Goes without sayin’ it won’t be you gettin’ those
prints.”

Rocky’s body tensed and her voice was terse
when she said, “Of course.”

Layne slid down into the bed, taking her
with him and rolling them both to their sides so they were face to
face but his hand didn’t leave her ass and he gripped it when he
murmured, “Just makin’ sure you stay my good girl.”

He felt her body give a small jerk before
she relaxed into him and kissed his throat.

“I’m still your good girl,” she whispered
there.

“Good,” he whispered back.

Her face came out of his throat and her head
settled on the pillow. “Isn’t that enough?” she asked. “Identity
theft is bad, even if people are dead. Can’t you hand it over to
Merry now, get him away from those girls?”

“Yep,” Layne answered.

“Are you going to do that?”

“Yep, Merry or Colt or Sully or Mike,
whoever I get to first.”

“Excellent,” she replied quietly.

“One problem with that, sweetcheeks,” Layne
told her.

“What?”

“There’s somethin’ bigger here, somethin’ we
don’t know. They got a shitload of money in the bank, they live
high, she’s got a nice car, his is less than a year old, middle of
the road but top of the line of its model. She’s either into
somethin’ or they’re bankrolled.”

“So?”

“So, a weed grows, you don’t pull off its
leaves, you yank out the root. My gut tells me there’s a big man
pullin’ their strings and that man’s gotta go down so this stops,
not only here but everywhere.”

“But the girls –”

“I’ll take care of the girls,” Layne assured
her.

“How?”

“People like this, they got one allegiance,
it isn’t to the head honcho, it isn’t even to money, it’s to
themselves. If they know they’re fucked, they’ll play.”

“Sorry?”

“We turn ‘em.”

“Layne, I’m not getting –”

“We get to them, get them to make a deal. In
exchange for reduced jail time, they give us the big man and, in
the meantime, stop whatever shit they’re doin’ with the girls.”

She was silent a second then she said, “Oh.”
Then she shared her news. “Rumor in the halls is, Seth is taking
Alexis McGraw out for pizza after the game tomorrow.”

Layne grinned.

Rocky continued, “And, word today was, Youth
Group attendance spiked last night. It’s become the hot, in thing
to go and see what the Layne boys are up to. Apparently, Jasper,
Seth and their friend Mitch didn’t disappoint and TJ-slash-Baxter
had his hands full attempting to explain how there could be
dinosaurs
and
Adam and Eve. Not to mention, since half the
football team was there, it’s becoming the hot spot to see and be
seen, pick up chicks and socialize. It sounded to me like
Wednesday’s Youth Group meeting was half Single’s Club and half
philosophical debate on religion, both of which TJ-slash-Baxter
didn’t have the tools to deal with.”

Layne’s grin turned into a smile. He’d seen
himself the number of kids who’d walked out and it wasn’t sixty, it
was more like eighty or higher. Jasper had been at work which was
good. Part of Gaines’s advantage was that there were concerns
voiced in whispers but no action. The more attention Youth Group
had, the more parents would start waking up and asking questions
and not in whispers, especially when Christian Youth Group became a
Single’s Club for teenagers and an opportunity to jack around. It
would be hard to recruit young girls for whatever he needed them
for when they were more interested in the football team and when
your attention was diverted by questions about creationism to which
you probably didn’t have the answers and with angry parents
breathing down your neck.

“Ryker’s surveilling the apartment,” Layne
told Rocky. “We’ll see what he gets and if he can find a time when
I can get in there. I’ll get prints, get someone at the Station to
run them and have a sit down with the boys.” He gave her a squeeze
and murmured, “This’ll be over soon, baby.”

Rocky burrowed into him and murmured back,
“I hope so, Layne.”

“It will. Swear,” he promised.

She didn’t respond and Layne was about to
roll to his back so she could pin him to the bed when she called
softly, “Layne?”

“Yeah, sweetcheeks.”

He heard her hair move on the pillow.

“In your dreams…” she started then trailed
off.

“Yeah?” he prompted.

“You said it’s good?”

Layne knew where this was going and he
grinned.

“Yeah, it’s good.”

“What…” she paused, “what do we do?”

Layne didn’t hesitate. He rolled into her so
he was on top of her.

“Layne?”

He found her mouth with his. “Show you,” he
muttered, his hands sliding up her sides, taking the tee with it,
she lifted her arms, he pulled it off and tossed it away. Then his
mouth went back to hers. “Hold onto the slats in the headboard and
don’t let go.”

“What?” she breathed.

“Hold onto the slats in the headboard and
don’t let go, no matter what.”

“No matter what?”

“No matter what. Promise.”

“Layne.”

Breathy. Beautiful. Jesus, he just came and
his cock was already starting to get hard.

“Hands to the slats, baby, keep them there,
no matter what.” She hesitated only a moment before she moved, her
arms lifting, she grabbed onto the headboard. “That’s my good
girl,” he muttered against her mouth. “Promise to hold on.”

“I promise,” she whispered and he kissed
her.

Then Layne experienced the best of both
worlds at the same time.

And it was unbelievably sweet.

Don’t Get Dead

She moved against him, he felt her sliding
up and both his arms went around her.

He turned his head just in time for her lips
to hit his.

But she didn’t kiss him.

Instead, she whispered, “This is the
beginning.”

His eyes opened, looking into hers.

“Yeah, baby,” he whispered back and watched
her eyes darken, sorrow and fear mixing in them before she went
on.

“The beginning of the end.”

Then his arms were empty.

She was gone.

* * * * *

Layne’s eyes opened, his body tense, and he
stared at the ceiling.

Rocky was dead asleep against him, her arm a
heavy weight on his gut, her knee cocked, thigh on his, he could
feel her hair on his chest.

It was a dream.

“Christ,” he whispered, his hand moving up
her back, fingers sliding in her thick, soft hair.

She didn’t rouse, didn’t even move, didn’t
make a noise. She was out.

He turned his head to the side and looked at
the clock. It was 6:29. She didn’t wake him early this time.

He was still looking at the clock when the
digits changed and the buzzer sounded loud. Rocky’s body twitched
then she pulled up to an elbow, her other hand going to her hair
and moving it from her face.

“An alarm,” she whispered into the dark
room. “God, I forgot what that sounded like.” Then she plopped back
down, landing on his chest, her arm going back around him and
curling tight as Layne’s arm moved out to hit the off button. “Can
we snooze?”