Golden Trail (81 page)

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Authors: Kristen Ashley

Tags: #Romance, #private detective, #contemporary romance, #crime

BOOK: Golden Trail
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Layne stared at her, completely stunned that
any of that shit was in her head.

Then he said quietly, “Baby, that’s totally
fucked up.”

“It isn’t,” she declared.

“It is.”

“No, Layne, it isn’t.”

“Come here,” he ordered.

“No,” she denied.

“Sweetcheeks, come here.”

“I said no.”

“Don’t make me come there,” he warned.

She shook her head. “Go home, Layne, I need
to think.”

“Nope,” he replied. “No you don’t. ‘Cause
you just told me what you’ve been thinking and every last bit of it
is seriously jacked.”

“I’m being honest!” she cried.

“Yeah, I get that, but that doesn’t mean
what’s in your head isn’t jacked.”

“I’m telling you what I think.”

“And I’m tellin’ you it’s jacked.”

“Layne –”

Layne had had enough.

“Christ, Rocky, I’m in love with you!” he
shouted, leaning forward and putting his hands on the bar. “I’ve
kissed more than two women and I’ve fucked more too, but I’ve only
ever loved you. You cut me up, baby, when you left me. You cut me
up bad.” She winced but he kept talking. “So, what’s it say to you
I’d take this risk? What’s it tell you? You nearly destroyed me,
Rocky, I loved you that much. Shit, I
love
you that much. I
existed for eighteen years. Now I’m livin’ again. And I like it. I
like it so much, it’s worth the risk.
You
are worth the
risk. Yeah, you had to play me because I needed that statement from
you, but, baby, I didn’t make you work too hard and you fuckin’
know it. You did that to me and you’re back in my life. Think about
that
, Roc, give
that
a second. What’s that say about
how I feel about you? Does that say I’m
ever
gonna let
anything
turn my head?”

“Layne –”

“Shut it, sweetcheeks, you walked in here
full of attitude and you just spewed some seriously stupid shit.
You need your head straightened out and you’re gonna keep your
mouth shut while I see to it.”

Her eyes were big when she whispered,
“Okay.”

Layne went on. “Melody was in my house for
maybe ten minutes at the most after you left. She called it, she
knew it before I knew it. She knew who you were because she snooped
and found the pictures I kept of you.” Rocky’s lips parted and
Layne nodded. “Yeah, baby, I never let go of you. Never. I carried
you with me
everywhere.

“Layne –”

“You were so freaked out, you didn’t see it
but after my preliminary shock and, somethin’ else you didn’t
catch, anger at seein’ a near naked woman in the house I share with
my sons, she ceased to exist. It was all about you and your
reaction. Melody caught it, you didn’t. So now, cast your mind
back, baby, and see it through her eyes. That’s why she left
because she knew why she never got in there and she knew it was
because of you.”

“Layne –”

“And she told me to be happy before she
left. She told me she hoped you’d make me happy again. That’s the
woman who picked the bed you sleep in. She wasn’t the one because
you
are
but she’s a good woman and she cared about
me. I didn’t have you, you don’t love me enough to want me to have
at least that?”

“You can stop talking now,” Rocky
whispered.

“If I can, then get your ass over here and
show me your head is straight and that you’ve let go of this shit
so I can fuckin’ do it,” Layne returned.

She put her beer on the counter immediately
but she walked to him slowly, she wasn’t working her strut, it was
hesitant. She knew she’d pissed him off and she wasn’t sure what
she was going to get.

The minute she was in reach, he leaned
forward, caught her wrist and yanked her into his body after which
his arms wrapped tight around her, caging her to him.

Her hands at his chest, she tipped her head
back. “Um…” she started.

He interrupted her. “Don’t be cute, cute’s
gonna piss me off.”

“Oh, okay, I won’t be… um… cute,” she
whispered uncertainly.

“Roc, you’re bein’ cute,” he warned.

“Oh, well… okay, I’ll stop.” She was still
whispering then she pressed her lips together, stared at him with
big eyes and her look was incredibly cute.

“Fuck me,” Layne muttered.

“You’re still mad.”

“Baby… uh,
yeah.

Her hand slid up to his neck.

“Don’t be mad, I have my head on
straight.”

“You gonna treat me to this shit again?”

“I’ll try not to.”

“That the best you got?”

“Uh…” her teeth worried her lip then she
went on, “yes.”

“I’ll take it.”

Rocky blinked. Then she whispered, “You
will?”

“Pay attention, sweetcheeks, I’ll take
anything from you.”

“Layne –”

Time again to move the fuck on.

“Did you buy the table?”

Her body jerked at his change of subject
then she answered, “No.”

“I’m not goin’ to look at it.”

“Okay.”

“You like it, get it.”

“Okay.”

“You let my mother buy a chaise lounge for
that front space, you earn a spanking.”

Her body jerked again before it relaxed
against him.

“Don’t worry,” she said softly, “I found
this big corner sectional. It’s like a couch but it’s shaped in a
square. You, me, Jasper and Tripp could all lounge on it and not
touch. Not that we would do that, uh… but, uh… Vera and I tried it
out. It’s comfy.”

“Get it.”

“Okay,” she whispered then called,
“Layne?”

“Yeah?”

She pressed into him and kept whispering.
“I’m sorry.”

His temper slid away, Layne dipped his head
and touched his mouth to hers, moving only slightly away, he
whispered back, “I know you are.”

“I mean about tonight and…” her eyes slid
from his to over his shoulder and then he watched her force them
back to him and her voice was barely audible when she said, “back
then.”

Oh God. Jesus God. That felt good. Jesus, he
needed that. He didn’t know it but having it, he knew he needed
it.

“I know.” His voice was barely audible
too.

“I’ve always loved you.”

“I know.”

“And um… even though I was the one who did
it to myself, um… you can ask Merry, I’ve never liked to
share.”

Layne stared at his woman a beat that fed
into ten.

Then he burst out laughing.

* * * * *

Friday, 11:38 p.m.

“Fuck, baby, come here,” Layne groaned.

She kept working his cock with her mouth,
her hand wrapped around the base, she was on her knees between his
legs and he could see they were spread wide and her other hand was
working her clit. And he knew she liked it, she was taking herself
close because he could feel her moans vibrating against his aching,
rock hard cock.

“Rocky, come here,” he growled.

Her head kept moving, up and down, lips,
tongue, suction, Jesus.

“Roc –”

Her mouth suddenly released him and he
watched her head fly back, her lips parted, face flushed, she’d
made herself come. Fucking beautiful.

He reached down, grasped her at her pits,
yanked her up his body, rolled her, positioning between the legs
she spread for him, he drove into her. Hard. Rough. No control.

“Layne,” she breathed.

“Take me,” he grunted.

“Yes, God, yes.”

“Take me, Rocky.”

“Harder, Layne.”

He fucked her harder and her heels dug into
the backs of his thighs as she lifted her hips to meet this.

“It’s gonna happen again,” she moaned.

“Let it.”

“Layne, oh God.” Her back and neck arched,
her heels pressed deeper, her body locked but her pussy contracted
around his cock and a low, deep,
long
moan slid out of her
throat.

Layne’s hand went into her hair, he
positioned her head and captured her mouth, absorbing the moan and
then trading it for his as he thrust deep, to the root, planting
himself in her and exploding.

When he was done, he started his strokes
again, these slow, lazy, as his mouth explored her neck and throat.
Her hand moved on his back, her other one gliding through his hair,
her legs wrapped now around his waist.

He filled her and his lips moved up her
neck, his teeth nipping her earlobe before he demanded, “Next time
you make yourself come like that, you do it with my cock inside
you.”

“It was inside me,” she whispered.

“I’m talkin’ about an alternate
location.”

Her head turned and he felt her lips smile
against his neck.

Then she said there, “Okay.”

That was Rocky, his woman, up for
anything.

“I need to get cleaned up,” she whispered in
his ear.

“No, I’m still hard.”

“Layne –”

“You can get cleaned up when I’m not
hard.”

A beat of hesitation, then, “Okay,” and then
all four of her limbs got tight around him.

She held him close until he pulled out,
rolled and she kept rolling, moving off the bed but she came back,
put a knee in the bed by his hip, she leaned into him, touched her
mouth to his and whispered, “Love you, baby.”

Before he could respond, she moved away,
turned and walked to the bathroom naked.

When he lost sight of her, Layne moved under
the covers, settling back, head to the pillows, lifting his hands
to his face, he swiped it hard.

Adrian Cosgrove was being held without
bail.

Rocky and Vera were thick as thieves
again.

Rocky’s attorneys called that day to say
that Astley had finally agreed on the settlement and they were
proceeding, her divorce would be final in less than a month and, at
Layne’s urging, she had, indeed, taken him to the cleaners. What
was slightly disturbing was that Astley let her.

Layne did not dwell. He didn’t give a fuck
about Astley’s motivations. All he cared about was that the papers
would soon be signed and, the day they were, he was putting a huge,
fucking rock on her finger. He’d seen the ring Astley had given
her. It wasn’t ostentatious but it made a statement.

Layne’s was going to be bigger.

Stew had moved on, had been living with his
piece in the trailer park but word was he was moving, with her,
into an apartment in the ‘burg. He didn’t mind Gabby knowing it
either, since he paraded the skank in front of Gabby at the game
that night five times (Layne hadn’t paid attention, but Rocky had
counted and shared this information). Gabby hadn’t liked this and
made the unfortunate play of letting that show. She didn’t see the
skank was a skank and Gabby was a better catch. But that was Gabby,
always making the wrong decisions.

Layne and Rocky had dinner with Ryker and
Lissa. In a social situation, Ryker was no less Ryker but Layne’s
woman was enough of a nut to find him charming (this was Rocky’s
word). She and Lissa had instantly formed a bond over some woman in
the ‘burg who gave manicures that were so good, both declared the
manicurist an “artist”. Before they left Frank’s, the women had
planned to have back-to-back manicures the next Saturday followed
by lunch at The Station.

The Bulldogs had won again and Jasper and
Layne had talked for half an hour on the phone before the game
about which visits to universities he was going to accept. He only
had so many and they were stacking up. Purdue had been added, as
had IU and Michigan. Jasper was leaning toward Ball State. It was
his Dad’s alma mater and it was a good school. It just wasn’t
Purdue.

Layne had allowed Ball State to be scratched
on the list but the first visit was going to be to West Lafayette,
Indiana. Jasper had agreed.

It was almost done, they were almost there.
They just had to take down Rutledge and Towers and then life could
be life.

His eyes turned to the bathroom when he
caught movement there and his breath locked in his throat when he
saw Rocky in a faded, red t-shirt with a peeling Ball State decal.
It was the first one she’d confiscated from him twenty-one years
ago. He remembered it because it was his favorite shirt and he’d
known with an even deeper knowledge than he already had that he
loved her when he gave it up without a fight.

She strutted to her side of the bed, pulled
back the covers and slid in, her movements liquid, she shifted to
him, reached across him and turned out the light.

Then she pinned him to the bed.

“Baby,” he muttered, his voice thick.

“Yeah?”

“The tee.”

She pressed closer.

“You weren’t the only one who didn’t let
go,” she whispered.

Layne’s arm tightened around her, his hand
giving her hip a rough squeeze, his other hand lifted and slid into
her hair.

“Though, I should note, Jarrod wasn’t a big
fan of me wearing this to bed.”

Layne’s body went still.

“Which I did,” she went on.

Layne stayed still and silent.

“A lot,” she finished.

Layne didn’t move nor speak.

Neither did Rocky.

Until she whispered, “I know it was a bitchy
thing to do, Layne, but, I mean, he was a jerk and he kept throwing
you in my face so, I figured, since he didn’t get over it and I
never got over you, at least I should be honest.”

Layne kept his silence.

“He deserved it,” she muttered.

Layne’s body finally moved but it was
against his volition. It did this to shake with laughter.

Her head came up. “He did, Layne, seriously.
He –”

“Baby,” he forced out, his voice sounding
choked.

“You think I’m a bitch,” she wrongly
surmised.

“Baby,” he repeated but was unable to say
more.

“Trust me, Layne, I’m not a bitch. He could
get mean about you.”

He rolled into her, his hand in her hair
moving over her mouth. “Baby, shut up.”

“Okay,” she said under his hand.

Layne moved his hand, dropped his head and
shoved his face in her neck where he kept laughing softly.

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