Golden Trail (The 'Burg #3)(202)

“Now, baby, please,” she whispered.

“After.”

Her h*ps ground into his hand. “I want your cock.”

“You’ll get it.”

“Oh God.”

“That’s it.”

“God, Layne.”

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, dropped his head, took her nipple between his lips and pulled hard.

That did it, her back left the bed and a ragged moan tore from her throat.

Layne’s fingers left her pu**y, he rolled over her, her legs spread wide for him even as she was coming and his f**king cell phone rang.

“No,” she whispered.

“Fuck, you gotta be f**kin’ shittin’ me,” Layne growled, kept himself seated between her legs and reached out for the phone.

He turned it to face him, saw what was on the display and growled again, this time with no words.

Then he flipped it open and put it to his ear.

“This better be f**kin’ good.” He was still growling.

Rocky lifted her knees, pressed her thighs against his sides as her arms wound around his back, the tip of his c**k slid through her wetness and Layne clenched his teeth.

“Did I wake you?” Sully asked.

“No,” Layne grunted.

Silence then, “Oh.”

“Sully,” Layne rumbled.

“Right, okay, well, thought you’d want to know. Adrian Cosgrove is incarcerated. Chris Renicki and Marty Fink found him about two hours ago. He had enough Rohypnol on him to roofie the entire junior class. Possession of an illegal substance, conspiracy to commit a felony, violating his bond agreement –”

Layne cut him off. “I get it, he’s f**ked.”

“He’s f**ked,” Sully confirmed.

“Good. Can I go now?” Layne asked with only an edge of patience.

Layne heard Sully chuckle and he again clenched his teeth.

“Yep,” Sully answered.

Layne flipped his phone shut, tossed it on the bed and bent his head toward Rocky.

“Is everything –?” she started.

“Fine,” Layne gritted then he drove his c**k into her and her back left the bed again as a mew slid out of her throat.

Jesus. Heaven. All of it.

Then he bent his head further and kissed his woman at the same time he f**ked her.

Hard.

* * * * *

Monday, 6:21 a.m.

Layne laid on his back in bed, his head resting on his hands, and listened to Rocky in her bathroom.

His mind wasn’t on the sweet orgasm he’d had or the one he’d given her. It also wasn’t on the noises coming from the bathroom. It further wasn’t on the million and freaking three things he had going on in his life.

His mind was on walking into Vi and Cal’s house and seeing Raquel sitting cross-legged on the floor with Vi and Cal’s baby daughter Angela bouncing on her little feet in Rocky’s lap. Rocky was holding Angela’s little hands and laughing in Angela’s giggling face.

Back in the day, they’d planned to have three kids. They were both agreed on that, it was definite. Three. Layne had no siblings, he’d always wanted one and he’d wanted one more seeing how Roc was with her brother. Rocky had a brother and she loved him so she would have been happy to have another brother or a sister, she didn’t care. Family meant everything to her, the bigger, the better. So they decided three, definitely three.

He had two.

Rocky had none.

Rocky walked out of the bathroom carrying a mug of coffee, her hair up in a twist at the back and she was wearing a dark green set of underwear, satin with a hint of dark gray lace. Layne had learned this meant she was wearing green somewhere on her body that day. Rocky had a lot of underwear in a lot of colors and she matched it to her outfits. This, too, was new and this, too, Layne liked. He liked it because, even if he didn’t see her dress, he could make a fair guess at what she was wearing under her clothes.

And he liked that a lot.

“Baby, come here,” he called and she looked his way.

“I have to get to work, sweetheart.”

“Come here,” he repeated, she stopped in the doorway to her closet, stared at him a second and walked to him.

When she got close, Layne did an ab curl, grabbed one of her wrists and took the mug of coffee from her other hand. He set it on the nightstand then, with a tug on her wrist, he laid back down and Rocky hit him full frontal.

“Layne!”

His arms moved around her, trapping her.

“I have to get to work,” she repeated.

“I know but I have to ask you something.”

She stopped pressing back when she paid attention to his face.

Then she whispered, “What?”

“You want kids?” Layne asked, straight out.

Her body jerked then she repeated, “What?” but it was breathy this time.

“You want kids?”

“I… um…” she stammered then her eyes slid to the pillow beside his head.

“Eyes to me, Roc,” he ordered and her eyes shot back.

“Yes,” she answered, that one word quick, forced out and openly scared. He knew this because she barely hissed out the “s” before her body braced.

He grinned at her and whispered, “Good, baby, how many you want? Two, three?”