Taking the Fall: The Complete Series (Taking the Fall #1-4)(11)

In the shower I wash off the remnants of his brand. I wash him from my face, my legs, my thighs—I want him gone. Slipping on a shirt and panties, I glance at the mirror and see the mark he left on my neck. The sight of it makes my nipples hard. I shake my head at myself and flip off the bathroom light. I head for my bed and slide under the covers. I was sure I would have to fight for sleep but I quickly fall under.

“Get up,” the man growls.

I slowly try to stand, feeling like my legs are going to buckle. My whole body hurts and I can taste the blood in my mouth.

All I can focus on is the gun he has pointed at me. The door flies open and my father walks in. Relief washes over me. He’s here to save me from this man, the man in my bedroom.

“She was trying to escape and go to him. I caught her packing and she had this note,” the man I don’t recognize says. I’m confused by how he’s talking to my father. My father reads the note and takes in the packed bag on the floor. My bags. Where am I going? It’s on the edge of my mind.

“You’re a whore just like your f*cking mother,” he roars at me with disgust in his voice.

Trying to back up, I run into my bed as my father approaches me. The other man still has his gun aimed at my head.

“At least you’ll be a useful whore,” he snarls, and I have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Take care of her.” These are my father’s parting words before he turns to leave and a gun goes off.

My eyes open and a scream is ripped from my throat. “I DON’T WANT TO REMEMBER!”

Then Carter is on me.





LAYLA


“Shh,” I soothe. I heard her cry and was on her instantly. I reach over and flip on the lamp beside the bed so that I can see her, but I then move back in place quickly.

“Easy, Cherry. It was just a dream, baby. Shh.” I blanket her body with mine and I pin her arms above her head, I don’t want her to hurt herself. She kicked her covers off when she was dreaming so she’s against me in only her tiny panties and a T-shirt.

Layla’s face crumples and she starts to cry. I lean down and kiss the wetness on both of her cheeks, licking my lips to taste her.

“Your tears are so sweet,” I whisper in her ear. I can feel her breathing start to even out. “It’s okay, Cherry, it was just a bad dream. Let it go.”

“It felt so real,” she says and hiccups a little. I rise a little, but still I keep her body and arms pinned down. I look in her eyes and see she’s struggling to remember what just happened. From what it sounded like, she was dreaming of that night. She doesn’t need to think of that again, and it’s my job to make sure she’s safe, both physically and mentally, from that night. I smile a little, looking down at her, and I know exactly how I’m going to distract her.

“Listen up, little Cherry, the next time you choose an alarm code, don’t pick my birthday. I’m flattered, but it was way too easy to break in.” I give her a big smug grin and that does the trick. She goes from worried to pissed in 0.2 seconds. Perfect. At least when she’s mad she’s not crying. Her tears make my chest hurt.

“Get off me, you big giant jerk. This is my house and you’re not welcome.” She’s really starting to struggle and although it’s adorable, it’s completely useless.

“Now, now, Cherry, is that any way to greet your man?” I see her cheeks turn bright red and I know she likes what I said. My legs are between hers and she’s in a prime position for me to tease her a bit more. Thoughts of her have teased me for over eight years so I feel it’s only fair.

“You keep running away from me, people are gonna think you don’t like me.” I push my jean-covered erection against her thinly covered * to show her how much we both know she likes it. She showed me at the bar how much she liked it. I knew we would be perfect for each other, but her little show of cumming so fast for me sealed the deal. Her body responded to my forceful approach and it solidified what I had always felt. I’d fill all those dark needs she has and make her crave me more. Get as deep under her skin as she is under mine. She was already tied to me since the day I killed for her. I fought for her these past eight years. She was always going to be mine.

It didn’t take long for me to realize she’d slipped out of the bathroom window at the bar. I saw the exit point when I was doing the sweep of the building. I paid a cab driver to sit out front just in case she decided to make a run for it. Good thing I was two steps ahead of her. I gave her time to get home, all the while keeping eyes on her. I wanted to give her time to calm down, and get control of myself, but no way was she getting the slip on me.

She wiggles against me as I lay my full weight against her *. I start to rock slowly against her, mimicking how I’m going to f*ck her, strong and slow. Full thrusts, balls deep, slowly in and out. Right now, though, I’m teasing us both.

“Listen, Cherry…”

“Stop calling me that, Carter,” she objects, but it’s so weak I know there’s no venom behind it.

“Listen, Cherry,” I start again, ignoring her. “We’ve got a lot to cover tonight, so I expect you to shut that pretty mouth of yours unless my cock is in it.”

“Carter, you f*cking assho—”

I quickly grab both her wrists with one hand and pin them above her head. I use my other hand to cover her mouth.