“I’m fine, Nik.” She rushed to assure him. “Layla has taken great care of me.”
I gave him a small smile as I moved by him, but he grabbed my elbow stopped me. I looked up in curiosity because I felt his fingers trembling. He blinked a few times then looked down at me. “Thank you, Layla,” he whispered.
It bothered me that they all found it hard to believe that someone had taken time to make sure that Emmie was taken care of, that anyone other than the five of them would want to take care of them. I found myself repeating the same thing I had been saying all afternoon. “Don’t thank me. She’s my friend.”
I didn’t think he heard me because he was already moving toward the bed, so I closed the door behind me and took the tray down to the kitchen. The refrigerator door was open and Jesse stood there pulling out a beer. Without questioning myself, I set the tray on the counter and then moved up behind him so that I could wrap my arms around his waist from behind. “Hey,” I murmured, kissing his left shoulder blade.
Jesse turned and pulled me against his chest. I didn’t hesitate when he lowered his head and started kissing me. My lips welcomed his, letting him in to taste me just as I wanted to taste him. The hand not holding the beer gripped my ass and pulled me even closer, right up against the ever growing evidence of his need for me. I moaned, loving how much I could affect him with just a kiss.
When we pulled apart, neither of us could catch our breaths. “What time does Lucy get home from school?” he demanded, his voice sounding rough.
I glanced at the watch on my wrist. “Her bus gets here in about thirty minutes.”
His eyes darkened, and I had learned that it was a sure sign that he was about to devour me. “That’s plenty of time,” he growled. His beer disappeared and then I was in his arms, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist.
For such a big man, he moved quickly. Before I could even guess where he was taking me, we were in the laundry room. He sat me on the edge of the washer and started tugging on the hem of my shirt. My own fingers were busy working on his fly, anxious to get his big, beautiful cock free so that I could look, touch, and taste him.
My bra went flying. and then he was jerking my pants down. I lifted my hips enough to help him, and then he was on his knees. I bit my lip to keep from screaming when his tongue plunged inside of me. My fingers gripped his smooth head and held him close while he ate me until I was on the very edge.
Trembling, I pushed his head away. “You, Jesse. I need you!”
He licked my arousal from his lips, some actually dripping from his chin, a testament to how much I needed him. “Is it still safe?”
I knew what he was asking, was it still safe for him to go bare. I didn’t even think about it. Nodding, I reached for his silk covered, steel erection and positioned him at my opening. “Fuck me.” I breathed in desperate need.
He stilled just as the head of his dick slipped inside. “This is not fucking,” he whispered. “Tell me you understand that.”
“Yes.”
“Say it,” he commanded, sliding another inch inside of me in slow torture.
I licked my lips. “This isn’t fucking.”
Another inch. “What is it then, Layla?”
I was caught in those mesmerizing eyes of his, as they swirled with need and darkened with an emotion I was just coming to accept. “Making love,” I whispered.
“Why is it making love?” he demanded in a voice filled with so many different things that it made my head swim trying to figure them all out.
“Because I love you,” I assured him, and this time it didn’t terrify the hell out me when I admitted it.
“Say it again.”
“I love you, Jesse.” He slammed all the way inside of me, making me cry out in pleasure.
Fingers tangled in my hair, pulling my head back enough so that he was looking into them. It felt as if he could see to my very soul. “I love you, Layla.” His words were like a promise, one that I hoped he would never break.
Jesse
Making love to Layla was a do or die kind of thing. If I didn’t make love to her I felt like was going to die. Sure, it was a fast and hard loving, but it was in no way a causal fuck in the laundry room. It would never be causal with me and Layla. It would never be fucking.
I thrust into her again, whispering that I loved her against the shell of her ear. She answered me with a muffled cry against my chest, her nails bit into my back was a delicious pain filled pleasure. I wanted to take it slow, but time was against it us, and I pumped in and out of her at piston speed. Her moans filled the room, my heavy breathing loud in my ears.