Golden Trail
Page 112
“Good man,” Layne murmured. “Homework done and tomorrow, thank your Gram for cleanin’ your room. She deserves it especially since, for most humans, it was a no go zone and I reckon Keira will be spendin’ time in it and we won’t want to rush her to the hospital after she’s exposed to the fumes.”
Jasper shook his head, grinning. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Boy,” was Layne’s only reply as he turned to walk away but he thought better of it and turned back. “Did you get your sentences diagrammed?”
Jasper’s grin died and he looked confused. “What?”
“Your sentences. Did Roc help you get them diagrammed?”
“Oh, yeah. Sure,” Jasper mumbled.
“Jas?” Layne called his son’s attention to him. “Did you have sentences to diagram?”
“Yeah,” Jas answered and Layne stared at him so Jasper’s eyes went to the double doors, he walked the two feet Layne had moved away and he whispered, “Two weeks ago. I got a C on the assignment. Next time, I’ll ask Roc to help before I get the final grade.”
Layne swallowed down laughter before he muttered, “Good call.”
Then Layne turned back to his room and walked to it as he heard Jasper say, “’Night, Dad.”
“’Night, Bud,” Layne replied and opened the doors.
Rocky was diagonal on the bed, on her stomach, papers spread in front of her, pen in her hand, bare feet swinging in the air and Layne knew Jasper didn’t have to whisper his secret because she had earphones in her ears, an MP3 player on the bed and between the sound and her concentration on the papers, she hadn’t noticed he came in.
He rounded the bed wide until he got to her side and then moved in. He put a knee to the bed and was dropping forward with a hand on either side of her when she cried out, jumped and started to turn but his torso hit her back and he pinned her to the bed.
She popped an earphone out, he heard the music through it and she twisted her neck to say, “Layne, you scared the bejeezus out of me.”
He didn’t reply. He smiled at her before he leaned around her, putting his mouth to the opposite side of her neck at the same time his hand went into her hair and he tugged out her goddamned ponytail. He’d left her and her hair was down which was how he liked it so now it was going to be down again.
“Would you quit pulling out my ponytails?” she asked, sounding annoyed and trying to roll but he moved his lips up her neck and then nipped her ear with his teeth and she quit trying to roll.
“Don’t like ‘em,” he whispered in her ear.
“I don’t care,” she replied. “I do.”
“I don’t care.” He ran his tongue along the curve of her ear and her body froze. “I don’t,” he finished.
“Layne.”
There it was. Breathy. Needy. Beautiful.
“You’re either gonna have to wait, baby, or let me gag you or f**k you in the closet again. The boys are usin’ the weight room to study and f**k around,” he said softly in her ear.
“I’ll wait,” she whispered, his head came up and she twisted her neck to look at him. “Do they stay up late?”
He grinned at her then leaned in and touched his mouth to hers before he suggested, “We could take a shower.”
“Hmm,” she mumbled and her eyes dropped to his mouth.
He liked her eyes on his mouth, so much, if he did something about it, they wouldn’t make it to the shower so his eyes dropped to her papers thinking he’d be seeing homework assignments but they weren’t.
“What are you doing?” he asked as he studied the papers.
Her head moved and he saw she’d looked down too.
“Lesson plans,” she answered and then twisted her neck to face him again. “Next week is To Kill a Mockingbird week. It’s my favorite week of the semester.”
He got that. It was her favorite book. He’d read it in high school, thought it was pretty good but didn’t think much of it until she’d gone on about it. Because she’d loved it so much, he’d read it again and he’d appreciated it a f**kuva lot more. His favorite book was Slaughterhouse Five, then and now, but To Kill a Mockingbird was a close second.
Looking at her face, suddenly he realized he’d pay money to watch her teaching it.
“You nearly done?” he asked.
“Nearly,” she answered. “I was about to finish up.”
“Good,” he muttered, pulled her hair away from her neck, kissed the skin there again and then looked at her. “I’m gonna go make coffee and secure the house. Meet you in the shower.”
He started to knife away from her but she caught him by saying, “Okay but you can’t get my hair wet.”
He stared in her eyes before he asked, “Come again?”
“You can’t get my hair wet because if you do I’ll have to blow it out before going to bed and that’ll take forever and –”
He cut her off. “Baby, your hair’s gonna get wet.”
“Layne –”
“Blow it out tomorrow.”
“I can’t, it’ll be –”
Layne rolled off her, pulled her on top of him and then rolled her to her back, Layne on top of her. Then he kissed her until her arms were tight around his back, her leg had hooked around his hip and she was mewing in his mouth.
Then he lifted his head and whispered, “Your hair is gonna get wet and your gonna blow it out tomorrow, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she whispered back immediately, eyes hooded, arms locked tight around him.
Christ she was cute and she was hot.
“Look at me like that a second longer, sweetcheeks, I won’t give a f**k my boys hear you moan,” he warned, her eyes got wide and he grinned before he brushed his mouth against hers and ordered, “Finish then shower.”
“Right,” she murmured.
Layne knifed away and Rocky rolled to her stomach.
Then he walked downstairs, let the dog out one last time, got the coffeepot ready for the morning, let the dog in and secured the house. He said a last round of goodnights, went to his room and heard the shower going.
He met his woman there, her hair got wet and he made certain other parts of her got wetter.
In the end the water didn’t have to drown out her moans since Layne performed that chore with his mouth.
Then he watched the News, shoulders against the headboard with a sleeping Rocky’s wet, tangled hair splayed over his chest as she pinned him to the bed.
Jasper shook his head, grinning. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Boy,” was Layne’s only reply as he turned to walk away but he thought better of it and turned back. “Did you get your sentences diagrammed?”
Jasper’s grin died and he looked confused. “What?”
“Your sentences. Did Roc help you get them diagrammed?”
“Oh, yeah. Sure,” Jasper mumbled.
“Jas?” Layne called his son’s attention to him. “Did you have sentences to diagram?”
“Yeah,” Jas answered and Layne stared at him so Jasper’s eyes went to the double doors, he walked the two feet Layne had moved away and he whispered, “Two weeks ago. I got a C on the assignment. Next time, I’ll ask Roc to help before I get the final grade.”
Layne swallowed down laughter before he muttered, “Good call.”
Then Layne turned back to his room and walked to it as he heard Jasper say, “’Night, Dad.”
“’Night, Bud,” Layne replied and opened the doors.
Rocky was diagonal on the bed, on her stomach, papers spread in front of her, pen in her hand, bare feet swinging in the air and Layne knew Jasper didn’t have to whisper his secret because she had earphones in her ears, an MP3 player on the bed and between the sound and her concentration on the papers, she hadn’t noticed he came in.
He rounded the bed wide until he got to her side and then moved in. He put a knee to the bed and was dropping forward with a hand on either side of her when she cried out, jumped and started to turn but his torso hit her back and he pinned her to the bed.
She popped an earphone out, he heard the music through it and she twisted her neck to say, “Layne, you scared the bejeezus out of me.”
He didn’t reply. He smiled at her before he leaned around her, putting his mouth to the opposite side of her neck at the same time his hand went into her hair and he tugged out her goddamned ponytail. He’d left her and her hair was down which was how he liked it so now it was going to be down again.
“Would you quit pulling out my ponytails?” she asked, sounding annoyed and trying to roll but he moved his lips up her neck and then nipped her ear with his teeth and she quit trying to roll.
“Don’t like ‘em,” he whispered in her ear.
“I don’t care,” she replied. “I do.”
“I don’t care.” He ran his tongue along the curve of her ear and her body froze. “I don’t,” he finished.
“Layne.”
There it was. Breathy. Needy. Beautiful.
“You’re either gonna have to wait, baby, or let me gag you or f**k you in the closet again. The boys are usin’ the weight room to study and f**k around,” he said softly in her ear.
“I’ll wait,” she whispered, his head came up and she twisted her neck to look at him. “Do they stay up late?”
He grinned at her then leaned in and touched his mouth to hers before he suggested, “We could take a shower.”
“Hmm,” she mumbled and her eyes dropped to his mouth.
He liked her eyes on his mouth, so much, if he did something about it, they wouldn’t make it to the shower so his eyes dropped to her papers thinking he’d be seeing homework assignments but they weren’t.
“What are you doing?” he asked as he studied the papers.
Her head moved and he saw she’d looked down too.
“Lesson plans,” she answered and then twisted her neck to face him again. “Next week is To Kill a Mockingbird week. It’s my favorite week of the semester.”
He got that. It was her favorite book. He’d read it in high school, thought it was pretty good but didn’t think much of it until she’d gone on about it. Because she’d loved it so much, he’d read it again and he’d appreciated it a f**kuva lot more. His favorite book was Slaughterhouse Five, then and now, but To Kill a Mockingbird was a close second.
Looking at her face, suddenly he realized he’d pay money to watch her teaching it.
“You nearly done?” he asked.
“Nearly,” she answered. “I was about to finish up.”
“Good,” he muttered, pulled her hair away from her neck, kissed the skin there again and then looked at her. “I’m gonna go make coffee and secure the house. Meet you in the shower.”
He started to knife away from her but she caught him by saying, “Okay but you can’t get my hair wet.”
He stared in her eyes before he asked, “Come again?”
“You can’t get my hair wet because if you do I’ll have to blow it out before going to bed and that’ll take forever and –”
He cut her off. “Baby, your hair’s gonna get wet.”
“Layne –”
“Blow it out tomorrow.”
“I can’t, it’ll be –”
Layne rolled off her, pulled her on top of him and then rolled her to her back, Layne on top of her. Then he kissed her until her arms were tight around his back, her leg had hooked around his hip and she was mewing in his mouth.
Then he lifted his head and whispered, “Your hair is gonna get wet and your gonna blow it out tomorrow, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she whispered back immediately, eyes hooded, arms locked tight around him.
Christ she was cute and she was hot.
“Look at me like that a second longer, sweetcheeks, I won’t give a f**k my boys hear you moan,” he warned, her eyes got wide and he grinned before he brushed his mouth against hers and ordered, “Finish then shower.”
“Right,” she murmured.
Layne knifed away and Rocky rolled to her stomach.
Then he walked downstairs, let the dog out one last time, got the coffeepot ready for the morning, let the dog in and secured the house. He said a last round of goodnights, went to his room and heard the shower going.
He met his woman there, her hair got wet and he made certain other parts of her got wetter.
In the end the water didn’t have to drown out her moans since Layne performed that chore with his mouth.
Then he watched the News, shoulders against the headboard with a sleeping Rocky’s wet, tangled hair splayed over his chest as she pinned him to the bed.
