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Authors: A. E. Woodward

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BOOK: Imperfectly Bad
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I gave her one final peck on the lips before moving towards the nightstand to grab a rubber. Whatever this was, while great, wasn’t enough for me to risk becoming a dad. I placed a kiss at the hollow of her throat, trying to show her just how much this all meant. The fact that I was using kisses to convey feelings was a concept that did not pass me by. Frozen in place, I didn’t move until she ran her fingernails up my back and I shivered. Every communication between us within these four walls had been wordless, and I wanted to be sure that this was what she
wanted
and not just what she thought I needed from her, so I pushed back until I could see into her eyes again. My hips rocked against hers, the head of my cock gliding through her arousal and making us both suck in air.

“Yes,” she whispered, so quietly that had the room not been totally void of all other sound I would have missed it.

I pushed into her, gritting my teeth and letting out a low
hiss
as her warmth welcomed me. My forehead dropped so low that I felt her breath against my face and, my eyes locked on her. Wanting to revel in the feeling of her tight around me, I guided myself in and out at the most excruciatingly slow pace. It wasn’t long before I felt myself building and when her eyes rolled back I knew she felt it too. Just knowing that much spurred me on and I kept pace, propping myself up with my elbow so I could touch her with my free hand.

Touching was another thing I avoided during sex—other than the necessary, obviously—but with Layla I couldn’t stop myself. My finger traced an imaginary path from her temple to her chin, her neck to the valley of her chest, down her stomach and back up her side. My touch was reverent. Every inch of her skin was smooth and felt like velvet beneath my fingertips.

My heart was racing as I felt her tighten around me. Her eyes found their way back to mine just before her orgasm overtook her and that was enough to push me over the edge finding my own release shortly after. Unable to let go of the indescribable feeling, it was only pure exhaustion that made me stop moving.

Once it was over I fell next to her, completely drained and not entirely sure of what had just happened. I was staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought when I felt her fingers on my arm. I looked to her, suddenly scared of what she might think of the black ink on my arm.

“That was intense,” I managed to say.

She nodded, her finger still tracing the letters of my tattoo. “I think that was your heart finally healing.”

“So what do you say you let me take you to dinner?” I asked as we walked the corridors from the meeting room back to my office. It was a big step for me. I hadn’t been on a serious date in…

Well, a really long time.

Her face flushed red, and I loved that she was so innocent. “Do you think that’s such a good idea?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Well you know, the firm’s views on fraternizing…”

I waved away her concerns with a flick of my hand. “Oh, angel, I violated those rules a long time ago.”

“Rob,” she scolded.

“What? I’m not gonna
lie
.”

After our meeting I’d waited behind for her, wanting to see what she thought about meeting up properly. And by properly I meant not just to have sex. Using humor was my way of hiding that fact that I was incredibly nervous. For the first time in a long time I was
asking
rather than telling, and it was fuckin’ scary.

We reached her desk and I stopped as she sat down and flipped her computer screen back on. She started to go about her business, alternating between filing papers and tapping away on her keyboard, effectively ignoring me. But I was having none of it and crossed my arms across my chest and tapped my foot.

She looked up at me from behind her screen. “Oh, you’re still here,” she teased. “You need something?”

Nice try, Layla, but two could play that game.

“Don’t make me embarrass you and make a huge showing of just how little I care about the company’s policy on fraternizing.” I smirked and wagged my eyebrows.

“You’re incorrigible,” she muttered, but a small smile played across her lips despite her feigned irritation, and I threw a silent celebration knowing that I’d won.

“I like it when you talk smart to me.”

She waved me away.

I turned and started towards my office door. “Meet you in the parking garage at seven, okay?”

I didn’t bother to wait for an answer. I knew she’d be there.

How could she not be?

Exhaustion had long since set in as I made my way to my car, but even that couldn’t keep me from being excited at the thought of spending some time with Layla. There was something about her that gave me hope again. Little by little, she was restoring my faith in women and I was actually starting to believe that they weren’t all heartbreakers. It was an odd concept but maybe—just maybe—they weren’t all stupid and out to get me. It had only been a few weeks, but our relationship was evolving, becoming something so much more than me numbing my pain.

Approaching my usual parking space, I smiled when I found her sitting on the hood of my car.

“You better have not dented that,” I teased, unlocking it as she jumped down.

“You try wearing these things all day.” She motioned down to her feet, and possibly the sexiest high heels that I had ever seen.

Holding my briefcase in one hand I pulled her into me with my free arm. She squealed as she collided with my chest.

“Well, whatever they are, they make you look fuckin’ adorable.”

She wrapped her arms around my neck and I pulled her closer, leaning down to cover my mouth with hers. Everything around us faded into the background when our lips touched, and when we pulled back we were both breathless. We stared into each other’s eyes before dropping our arms and I winked at her as I started towards the driver’s side door. She kept her eyes on mine as she made her way to the passenger side.

The first part of the journey was quiet. Things at work were still manic and I was running through the rest of my week in my head when finally Layla asked, “So, where are you taking me?”

“Only my most favorite secret place on the planet.”

She kept her eyes forward but she couldn’t hide the smile on her face when she replied, “Sounds exciting.”

We joked as I drove. She told me about her past, how she was a native New Yorker and had grown up in the Bronx. It had been rough for her being one of the few white girls in her neighborhood so she had learned to be quite tough. I made a comment about her looking too sweet to be a seasoned New Yorker.

“I’m a lot tougher than I look,” she said.

“You’d have to be to hang around with me,” I half-heartedly joked, wondering if that was part of the reason she was with me. The unease was not a welcome feeling and I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“You’re not so bad.”

I looked out the corner of my eyes at her. I loved that she tried to see the best in me, but she didn’t even know the half of it. I pulled into the parking space that I seemed to choose every time I came here and threw the car in park.

“A
bookstore
?” she asked. “This is your favorite secret place?”

Okay, not the reaction I’d been expecting. I felt like she was judging me, and I could sense my walls shooting back up.

“Well, it’s not just about the bookstore,” I defended myself. No one, not even my best friends knew about this place and all it meant to me. I was trusting her with this. With more than this. That’s why I’d brought her here. This place had become my sanctuary from all the drama over the last few years. It was important to me.

And, against the odds, so was she.

A gentle hand on my knee interrupted my thoughts, but before I could say anything she said something that made my chest tight.

“Even if it was just a bookstore, I would think it’s awesome.”

Those simple words of reassurance, of validation, were enough to make the apprehension melt away. This had been the right decision, I just knew it.

I took her hand and led the way. I loved the way our fingers fit together—like she was the missing piece to a puzzle that had remained unsolved for far too long. The bell sounded as we entered the store, and I weaved us around the other customers, pulling her quickly past all the stacks toward the back of the store.

“Umm, Rob? What’s the fun of being in a book store if you won’t let me stop and browse?” she asked as she struggled to keep pace with me.

“Just wait.”

When we could go no further I stopped and her front hit my back. In front of us was a wardrobe, all by itself, in the middle of an empty wall.

“Seems like an odd place to have a wardrobe,” she said, looking over her shoulder at the shelves of books.

“Open it,” I urged.

“You can’t be serious—”

Knowing we didn’t have much time I pushed her toward it. “Dead ass. Now open it.”

She looked at me hesitantly and took a few tentative steps forward, her hand pulling the door to reveal a hidden crawlspace. “What the…”

“Go on, I’m right behind you.”

We bent down and took a step in, revealing the place where I had spent so many hours. Layla eyes widen as she took in our surroundings, a look of complete awe on her face. I watched as her eyes darted around the room, studying everything from the actual tree—complete with rope swing—in the middle of the room, to the intricate murals painted on the walls.

“This place is…” she paused, trying to find the words. “What
is
it?”

“Welcome to Narnia,” I teased, which earned me a smack in the chest. “Well, this bookstore runs a program for children with special needs. They do story time, crafts, and individual readings.”

“Amazing.” She walked over to the shelves of books and mindlessly ran her fingers across the spines.

“It is. I come here a lot, especially over the last few years.”

“Why so?”

“Well, my friends all grew up without me, so to speak. They just figured their shit out, and I had nothing better to do with my time so I decided to do something purposeful with my life.”

“You
read
?” she asked, seemingly surprised.

“Shocked?”

She made me wait for my answer, taking a copy of
Harry Potter
from the shelf and plopping down onto one of the enormous beanbags.

“No, not really. Something told me there was a good guy hidden in there somewhere.” She mindlessly began flipping through the pages.

“Yeah, and this is kind of something close to my heart.” I sat next to her.

When Layla didn’t reply I took that as her urging me to continue. The rolling in my stomach began and my palms started to sweat. This would be where I would normally lock up and go back into my shell, or I’d say some asinine comment to lighten the mood and be done with it. But I didn’t want that with her. Something about those piercing blue eyes made me want to open up.

So I did.

“Yeah, special needs kids… well, they have a place in my heart.”

I stood up and my eyes roamed the room, not focusing on anything in particular, I just couldn’t look at her in the face. “I have a sister with Down Syndrome. She rocks my socks and I love her more than anything in the world, but we were really lucky. My family had the money to make sure that she had every opportunity and therapy available. Other people aren’t so lucky, so I do this.”

Layla remained quiet so I carried on talking. Usually it was women who suffered with verbal diarrhea, but I’d started and the words just kept coming. “She’s pretty cool. She’d love you.”

I paused to take a breath but froze when her arms snaked around my waist. I closed my eyes, feeling her cheek press against my back. From this position I had no doubt that she could feel my heart pounding and it was all I could do to keep my breathing steady. “Christ, my friends don’t even know that about me. Well, only Tyler, but that was a recent development.”

“That must mean you like me.” Her tone was teasing.

“Sure,” I began, opening my eyes and turning to face her. How had I gotten so lucky? “I mean, I guess you’re all right.”

The smile that broke across her lips was one of the single most beautiful things I had ever seen in my life.

BOOK: Imperfectly Bad
11.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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