The Rocker That Savors Me(23)

I drifted off to sleep, proud of myself for not thinking of Jesse all day long…only to dream about him!

Lana’s alarm woke me from a particularly wet dream, and I sat up, my breathing ragged as I pressed shaking fingers to my throbbing clit. Lana was in the shower, so I had a few minutes to take care of the ache that dreaming of Jesse had caused. I closed my eyes, picturing his smooth head between my legs as his tongue licked my pussy until I couldn’t hold on any longer.

Using my thumb to press down on the top of my clit while I thrust two fingers into my soaking wet pussy, I bit my lip to keep from whimpering in pure pleasure as I felt my inner muscles start to clench and convulse. When I could breathe again, I sucked my fingers into my mouth, imagining that it was Jesse’s dick, as I licked off my juices from his thick cock. When my fingers were clean of my arousal, I got up to start my day.

Lana was just getting out of the shower when I entered the bathroom. Her hair was dripping all over the place, and she wrapped a towel around it before reaching for another to wrap around her gorgeous body. She wasn’t tattooed or pierced like I was. She had virgin skin, and I wanted to keep it that way, but she had already started hinting at getting one for her birthday in a few weeks.

“Can I have some gas money, Layla?” Lana asked as she rushed to get dry. “Your car is low.”

I washed my hands. “Of course. But I don’t have any cash. Just use my credit card at the pump, okay?” I reached for a ponytail hold and pulled my thick hair back into a messy bun before reaching for my tooth brush.

“Thanks, Layla.” She ran a wide toothed comb through her damp hair then went into the bedroom to get dressed. “Hey, do you care if I have dinner with Drake Friday?”

My hand froze with the toothbrush still in my mouth. My mouth was full of toothpaste and spit, but I moved to the door and frowned at my sister as she pulled on jeans and a simple black tank top over her black bra. “What?” Maybe I hadn’t heard her right.

Lana pulled her damp hair out of the shirt and turned to face me. “I want to have dinner with Drake Friday night. He asked me to go to this little Greek place that he thinks I will like. I promise I won’t be out late.”

“Lana, he’s in his thirties.” I reminded her around my mouth full of paste. “And he’s a rocker.”

She sighed. “He isn’t like those guys that Mom played around with, Layla. Yes, I’m sure he’s lived hard, but there is something about him that…” she shook her head. “I don’t know what it is, Layla. I feel like there is this invisible rope that pulls me toward him.”

“Lana…”

“No. Please, just listen. I like him. But right now we’re just friends. He isn’t ready for anything more…” I opened my mouth to ask how she knew that when she went on. “We haven’t talked about it, if that’s what you want to know. I just sense it. He’s haunted by something in his past and until he’s ready to face it, he won’t be ready for me. So, please just trust me. Okay? I want to be his friend.”

I shut my mouth, my teeth biting into my bottom lip while I tried not to swallow the mess in my mouth. I trusted Lana. She was a good girl, with a good head on her shoulders, and in a few short weeks she was going to be eighteen, an adult. I had to trust that she knew what she was doing and would be able to handle any mistakes she might happen to make along the way.

“Okay, Lana. I trust you to know what is best for yourself. Just be careful, okay? And remember that he’s still a rocker. That isn’t going to change.”

--

After I had put Lucy on the bus, I headed into the house. The guys were already gone; I had heard them leave right after Lana had pulled away. I relaxed in the knowledge that other than Emmie, who was either still asleep or in her office working, I was alone in the house.

The first thing I did was take care of Drake’s room. His sheets weren’t as rumpled this morning, but there was still the slight smell of fear and sweat, so I changed his sheets and tossed his comforter in the washer before taking care of his bathroom.

When I was done upstairs, I straightened up the kitchen. The dishwasher was full of dirty dishes, and I turned it on before getting out a pan to fry up some bacon for Emmie. I knew she would be hungry, but if she was working she would forget about eating unless I brought her something.

I fried up the bacon nice and crispy, just the way she liked, and scrambled some eggs while the bread toasted. I was just plating up the eggs when I heard footsteps entering the kitchen behind me. “Hey, little momma. Are you hungry?” I asked without turning around.