Now and Again (9 page)

Now she wished she was wearing a little black dress and sexy heels, so she’d feel her most confident.

Relax, Layla. He’s just a man.

She opened the door and sucked in a breath when she saw him.

A very hot man. Damn.

His hair was still damp from the shower, and he was clean shaven, wearing worn jeans and a red triathlon logoed t-shirt fitted across his wide chest.

“Hey,” he said, smiling.

“Hi.” Layla stepped aside and when he walked in, she saw the dark wine bottle he carried.

“You didn’t have to bring anything,” she said.

“Is this the kind you like? I thought it was the one you ordered at the pub one night.”

“I love it.” She reached for the chilled bottle. “Are you planning to get me drunk so my defenses are down?”

“Layla,” he said flatly, “I’m not someone you need to defend against. I definitely wouldn’t enjoy anything you didn’t want.”

“No, I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

After a few uncomfortable seconds of silence, she reached for the wine. “You want some?” she asked.

“No, I can’t drink that shit. I just brought it for you.”

“Thanks. I ordered some Chinese, are you hungry?” She walked into the kitchen with the wine.

“Yeah,” he said, following her. “I would’ve taken you out.”

“It’s movie night, we have to eat here.” She glanced back at him and tried not to smile when she saw him checking out her legs.

“What are we watching?” he asked.

“There’s a new horror movie I want to see, but we can pick something else if you want.”

“No, it’s your choice, remember, Cupcake?” He grinned as he reached for the corkscrew in her hand and twisted it into the cork. He filled her empty glass halfway and handed it to her.

“I know, but … I want you to have a good time, too,” she said.

“Don’t worry, I will. Horror sounds good.”

Layla curled up with her blue afghan on one end of the couch, scrolling through the menu on her television to find the movie she wanted to order. Ben sat down on the other end, and she tried to remember the last time she’d sat on her couch with a man. She came up blank.

“This looks so creepy. It’s about a serial killer who traps his victims in his basement,” she said as she clicked on the movie. “Do you want a blanket?”

“I’m okay, thanks.”

She reached behind the couch and retrieved a bowl from the sofa table, her eyes still on the screen as the movie started. She sat it on the center couch cushion, scooping out a handful of M&M’s.

The rhythmic pounding of the movie’s serial killer slowly stepping down a wooden stairway made Layla break out in goose bumps as she remembered the footsteps in her apartment the night before. She reached down to slip Prince an M&M and impulsively moved down to Ben’s end of the couch, climbing onto his lap.

“Hey,” he said softly, his body stiffening before he relaxed and wrapped a long arm around her back. She pulled the afghan over them and leaned her head into the crook of his neck. His warm sandalwood smell was all she could think of until she felt his hand move to her bare thigh under the blanket.

His hand was still, but she willed him to move it higher. Every nerve in her body was on high alert from the feel of his fingers on her skin. What would those big, powerful hands feel like running down her back, gripping her hips … reaching between her legs?

Ben’s voice pulled her attention from thoughts of him touching her.

“I never got this. Why do people in these movies just sit there wide-eyed waiting to get murdered? Do they not have phones?”

“I know,” she said, sliding an M&M between her lips. “I always thought that, too. But you know, I think I had this experience last night and I did the same thing. I couldn’t move. It’s why I’m so jumpy watching this.”

“What experience?” Ben’s voice turned serious.

“Oh, it might’ve just been my imagination, I don’t know. But I thought someone was in here in the middle of the night. It scared the shit out of me.”

“What happened?” He leaned back, forcing Layla to lift her head from his chest and look at him.

“I woke up at 2:30 and thought I heard footsteps in the living room. But there was no one here when I checked the apartment.”

“Layla.” He raised his brows in a disapproving glare. “Why the hell didn’t you call me?”

She sighed. “It was crazy, I was too scared to even move. And I didn’t know if I was imagining it or not. I wouldn’t wake you up in the middle of the night just because I heard something.”

“I don’t care about that, you should’ve called me. Did you have the deadbolt locked?” His stern tone made Layla feel like a child who’d misbehaved.

“I locked it when I went to bed, but it was unlocked when I checked after I heard the footsteps.”

Ben’s eyes widened and his jaw tightened. Layla held her breath as she waited for him to speak.

“God dammit, Layla! Don’t you know how serious this is? Why didn’t you call me? Did you just go back to bed, knowing someone was in here?”

“No! Prince and I went to a hotel.”

Ben shook his head and Layla tensed from his admonishing stare.

“Why the hell didn’t you call me?”

“I can take care of myself,” she said, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

“Oh, really? By checking into a hotel and acting like nothing happened? You could’ve been raped or kidnapped or killed. I see this shit at work, you don’t know how sick some people are. This person has a key to your apartment, and you’re not safe here.”

“This is my home. I won’t be scared off by some creepy asshole. Maybe I’ll get a security system.”

“A security system?” His voice rose with anger. “That won’t help with someone who has a key. Christ, Layla!”

“Why are you so pissed?” She swiveled in his lap, facing him. “You’re not responsible for me.”

“I’m not pissed.” He sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“At least not before you get your two weeks, right?” She met his eyes with a smile but got a glower in return.

“You need to take this seriously,” he said.

“You’re right. I promise I’ll call you if anything happens again.” She rested her hands on his shoulders and smiled again. Ben’s sulky expression started to soften.

“I’m not the only one looking forward to my two weeks, am I?” he said, grabbing her hips lightly.

“You think I’m looking forward to it?” Layla arched her brows with amusement.

“Yeah. I think you’d like me telling you what to do. I think just the thought turns you on.” His low, sexy tone made her cheeks warm as she ran her hands down the defined curves of his biceps.

“What would you tell me to do if you were in charge right now?” she asked. Ben’s curled his lips into a smile.

“I’d tell you to get on your knees and suck me off.” His eyes darkened as he spoke.

“Oh? So you’re controlling
and
self-centered.”

“No. When you were done, I’d strip off all your clothes and fuck you right here on the couch. I’d go slow for a while and make you whimper for more. Then I’d give it to you fast and deep for a while but slow down again before you could come. I’d go back and forth like that so when I did let you come, it’d be so hard you’d forget about everything but the feel of me inside you.” He tightened his grip on her and Layla gasped unconsciously.

“That might be … good,” she said, letting him pull her hips against his so she was straddling his thighs. His bulge was rock hard beneath her and she suppressed the moan that threatened to come out.

“It might be? That’s why you’re breathing shallow and your cheeks are flushed?” Ben’s face was so close now she could feel his breath on her lips, and Layla closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them, she took her hands from Ben’s arms and pulled her t-shirt up over her head, exposing her silky hot pink bra. His eyes widened as he stared at the curves of her breasts.

“You’ll get your turn, but right now it’s mine, and I want you to touch me,” she said, running her hands through her dark waves of hair. Ben’s lips parted as he slid his hands up from her hips to her stomach, but Layla stopped his hands with her own. “Touch me lightly. Gently.”

His eyes met hers and she saw a flicker of doubt there. Was he wondering if he was capable of being gentle? She took her hands off his and he slid them, feather-light, up her sides to her bare shoulders.

She felt the sensation of his fingertips slowly grazing up the back of her neck through her entire body. One of his large hands traced delicately down her spine, and the other smoothed its way back over to her shoulder.

His breathing was shallow now, too, Layla noticed as he used a fingertip to trace the outline of one of her nipples through her bra. She flushed at the way it stood out immediately under his touch.

Ben’s fingers slowly and deliciously trailed over her arms, stomach, collarbone and breasts. He stroked her thighs and delicately ran a thumb across her lips. No man had ever taken the time to relish her body this way, and it was creating a deep burn of arousal within her.

Layla pressed her hands over Ben’s bristled cheeks and leaned into him, brushing her lips against his. He spread his long arms across her back and pulled her body into his. His warm, gentle kiss heightened her arousal, and she unconsciously pushed her hips into his insistently. She felt the deep groan within his chest before it escaped his lips.

“Layla,” he said softly. It was the way he said it, his voice tinged with reverence, that made her decide seven months – closer to eight, actually – was enough. She wanted him here and now.

She reached around for the clasp of her bra and Ben’s eyes widened with anticipation. The ding of the doorbell made her jump just before she got it unhooked.

“What the hell?” she said, still dazed with arousal.

“The food, maybe?” Ben said.

“Oh, fuck. I forgot I even ordered food.”

“For a little while there I forgot my own name,” he said, smiling. “You’re so beautiful when you’re turned on.”

It didn’t seem like the kind of compliment to thank him for, so Layla was silent as she picked up her t-shirt from the floor. She was shaken by the way Ben had awoken her desire so easily. Though she knew she was playing with fire, she didn’t want to stop.

***

Ben shook his head as they watched the final scene of the horror movie they’d abandoned earlier. “I knew that chick was working with the serial killer,” he said. “It was so obvious.”

“You did not! You didn’t say anything,” Layla said, kicking him lightly under the coffee table.

“I didn’t want to ruin it for you.” He smiled. “Come on, I’m a detective, you think I can’t figure this shit out?”

“Have you got me figured out?” She raised her brows playfully.

“I’m working on it. I know you want everyone to think you only eat salads, but the truth is you work out like a maniac so you can eat what you really like.”

“Fuck you!” she said, slamming down her plastic fork.

“No reason to get offended, Cupcake, I’m just calling it like I see it. And anyway, I prefer the Layla who eats M&M’s and Mongolian beef.”

Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him, picking her fork back up.

“This stuff reminds me of the food over in the Middle East,” Ben said. “They make these beef kabobs I loved to eat when I was stationed there.”

“How long were you over there?”

“Two years.”

“What was it like?”

“It was . . . harder than I thought it would be.”

“Did you lose any friends?” Her eyes were warm with concern, and Ben fought his urge to put her off.

“Yeah, I did. I was so damn grateful to board that flight home, even though a part of me wanted to stay. Then I got to college at age 23 and I thought those stupid, shallow 18-year-olds would drive me out of my mind before I graduated.”

“So … you grew up in the city?” Layla asked.

“Yep.”

“Do you still have family here?”

“Yeah, my mom still lives here. My sister did, until her husband got relocated for his job, so now they’re in England.”

“Do you have other brothers and sisters?”

“Nope, just Bree. Briane, actually.”

“Are you younger or older than her?”

“She’s older by three minutes, and she never lets me forget it,” Ben said, smiling.

“Twins? You’re twins?” Layla’s face lit up.

“Yeah.”

“Wow, that’s really neat. I still picture you being protective, even though she’s older.”

“Yeah, that’s my nature, I guess,” he said. “How about you? Brothers? Sisters?”

“Just a younger sister, Em. We used to be really close but we had kind of a falling out at Christmas time over a man.”

“What was the falling out over?” Ben felt a surge of jealousy toward any man Layla was interested in.

“We had a neighbor growing up, Cole, and I was interested in him, but it turns out my sister was doing him behind my back for months.”

“Ouch.”

Layla shrugged as she stuck her fork into a piece of spicy chicken in one of the takeout containers. “It’s not a surprise, really. Emma’s the kind of woman men want a relationship with.”

“And what, you’re not?” Ben’s voice was skeptical.

“Not really, no.” She looked down, and he didn’t press her.

Part of him wanted to kiss her again, and feel her warm silky skin. Having Layla tell him how to touch her earlier had really worked him up. He wasn’t usually gentle and soft, so feeling her moan in response to his light caresses made him want to flip her over and fuck her right there. But knowing he was giving her what she wanted actually turned him on more than fucking her would have.

This – talking about family and his time in the Middle East – was more intimate for him than sex. He never let anyone in on those subjects. And Layla was letting him see that she had a vulnerable side, too. He didn’t want to ruin it with more making out.

“Well, Sergeant Montrose, do you want to stay tonight?” Layla asked.

“Are you inviting me?”

“I guess I am.”

Ben hesitated a moment. The answer to every woman who’d ever asked him to stay the night was no. Hell no. That would only lead to goodnight kisses, spooning and making coffee together the next morning. He wasn’t that kind of guy. But he could tell Layla didn’t want him to go. She had opened herself up for rejection by asking him, and he didn’t want to disappoint her.