Claiming Serenity(31)

The whole day had annoyed him and when Layla hesitantly came into his room that night, they hardly spoke. He knew something was wrong with her but convinced himself not to ask what. Their touches were perfunctory, cold and Donovan forgot about the treat of going bare with her, forgot most everything but the way she fit around him. She hadn’t stayed and until that morning, he hadn’t wondered why.

Then she walked into the cafeteria with Mollie, looking so fucking tempting with her light blonde hair pulled back into a pony tail that fell to the middle of her back. Perfect for grabbing, for tugging. It didn’t help that her strong thighs and muscular calves were evident through the black leggings she wore and that perfectly round ass of hers teased him as she walked around the cafeteria, peeking out behind her long maroon sweater and gray Army jacket.

He’d watched her when she wouldn’t notice him looking, let his gaze rake over her, wanting so damn much to grab her, pull her out of the crowd and get her back to his apartment to make up for his subpar performance the night before. Instead, he’d settled for going after her, stalking sure, but come on, she was so damn beautiful, and he just couldn’t keep away from her.

He knew he shouldn’t have followed her. The risk of being caught was too great, but the sway of those glorious round hips was too tempting; the soft waves of her blonde hair too enticing. She’d haunted him already. He knew this. He hated this, but anytime he closed his eyes, he could feel Layla all around him, over his dick, on his tongue and he’d been unable to keep his mind off her or keep from counting the hours until he’d be inside her again.

He hated what she did to him. Donovan hated that it was Layla dominating his thoughts; it was her skin, her hair, her body, consuming his passing days. He felt like an addict, unable to keep away from her. He couldn’t help how being with her felt. And part of him hated her for it, just a bit. He needed to bring some semblance of control back to whatever it was they were doing. He needed to remind her it was his touch she wanted, his hand, his tongue and mouth all over her.

She didn’t see him as he walked up the hallway, didn’t even bother to look behind her until she slipped through the kitchen, out into the small pantry that faced the cafeteria, she was too intent on dodging her former “boyfriend”. The cafeteria staff was minimal so close to the Thanksgiving break and no one was around really to see either of them slip into the tiny pantry.

Layla edged near a small, rectangular window that overlooked the cafeteria, her calves flexing as she rose on the balls of her feet, and Donovan took advantage, slipping behind her to curl his arm around her waist.

There was split second where she straightened, when her back and arms grew stiff, but then she seemed to instinctively know it was him, and then she relaxed against him before he even spoke, before he rubbed his mouth under the chunky scarf she wore.

“Did he leave?” Donovan asked, pulling Layla tighter against his chest.

“Can’t see.”

They both inclined their heads, moved together until Layla nodded, pointing her chin to where Mollie stood talking to Walter.

“He’s got it bad. What did you do to that guy anyway?”

“I said no. All the damn time.”

He liked the amusement in her voice but had to remind himself why he’d followed her. He needed to focus, keep her attention on him, on them and not the asshole outside that pantry interrogating Mollie.

“You never said no to me.” Donovan wrapped her long pony tail around his fingers, giving her hair a small tug. “And I still want you. There has to be something else you did to him.”

The hair fell out of Donovan’s grip when Layla moved her chin up, lifting one eyebrow as she looked over her shoulder at him. “I can say no. Don’t get it twisted. I’m able to resist you.”

“You think so?” Donovan smiled, loving the way Layla’s eyelids fluttered when he rubbed himself against her. “You sure about that?”

“I’m sure,” she said, pushing back against him before she pulled his arm from her waist. “Don’t get cocky, Donley. You aren’t as good as you think you are.”

“I haven’t heard you complain once.”

He thought it was ridiculous, that look she gave him, how she tried to act like he didn’t affect her, how she stepped closer toward the window, looked out of it as though he would keep his distance. “You should have been in the car with me when I left your place last night.” Then, a smug little grin crossed her lips and Donovan lifted his eyebrows, surprised at how cold she was pretending to be. “You were off.”