Page 26 of Small Town Secrets

She stalled through a series of panted breaths, before straightening from her arched position. “A year. One more year, but only if I pass all my summer classes.”

She tipped her head back again, clearly wanting more, so he gripped her hips hard and thrust into her, garnering her contented throaty cry, only for her to bite down on her lower lip as if to recall the need to stay quiet.

She flopped forward and buried her face into his neck, engulfing him in her feminine musk and the lingering fruity warm scent of her perfume, as she returned the favor and unleashed a series of rocking movements. “Do you interrogate your other women like this?”

“No.” And he didn’t want to think about any other woman, not with this one already in his hands and around his cock. The way she made his blood roar loud in his ears and every nerve in his body explode, perhaps he’d never think of another woman again. “Just you.”

Not knowing what came over him, he held her in place and thrust into her, still unable to get his fill.

One night won’t be enough…

He took what he wanted, and she moaned into the crook of his neck, only to nip at the thick tendon running down the side. He groaned with need and frustration. Maybe if he just kept going, they’d each get what they wanted.

So, he held her tighter still and pounded into her, his thrust wild and erratic, and increasingly desperate. More and more she tensed around him, crying her pleasure against his neck and dragging his own climax out into the open.

His hands clamped down and his fingers curled into her flesh. He was certain there’d be bruises, but she didn’t seem to mind, in fact, her growing strain around him said that she liked it. That she wanted every last consequence for what she did to him.

And her soft whimpers, they spurred and stirred him. He arched into her until his own muscles strained and ached with the need for release, just as she clung to him tighter than ever and shuddered on a muffled moan.

And as predicted, even as he let go and joined her—his body erupting in a storm of building ecstasy and desperate longing—he knew a thousand moments like this one would not sate him.

He wanted her in too many ways. In ways he’d never wanted any other woman. Body and soul. And truth be told, his ‘want’ scared the ever-loving life out of him.

His heart still raced minutes later when the handle to the locked bedroom door shook, and Whitney’s sleepy voice came from the hall. “Mommy, why’s the door locked?”

Laila burst into buried laughter, and she jumped off him, stabbing a finger at her window. “Get your clothes and get out of here.”

Even as the door rattled some more and he jammed last night’s t-shirt over his head, she pressed a hand over her mouth and covered more laughter. “If you’re feeling extra brave, you can walk around the house and knock on the front door and invite yourself over for breakfast.”

Sixteen

Laila opened the front door to find Ramos standing there wearing a warm smile and a wicked glint in his eye, ready to commence the game of pretending last night never happened. Meanwhile, Whitney’s excited squeal filled the air, followed by the soft thuds of her jumping up and down. “Adrian’s here!”

The levity in the way she called his name hit like a burst of sunshine on an overcast day, and Laila’s heart gave a strong tug, an unwieldy smile breaking across her face.

She held his knowing stare since his presence was not at all a surprise. After all, he’d climbed out of her bedroom window moments earlier. Still, pretending he hadn’t gave her a rare chance—in a town full of busybodies—to keep something to herself. Even though her priority lay in protecting Whitney more than avoiding gossip.

“Come on in.” She stepped aside so Ramos could pass, then all three headed for the kitchen. “I promised Whitney French toast for her good behavior yesterday and I’m obligated to deliver.”

Whitney’s excited jumping kicked up another level. “Don’t forget the chocolate spread!”

“I haven’t forgotten.” She watched Ramos open a cupboard door and retrieve a mixing bowl. “Oh, no. You’ve done enough for me already.” She laughed and swiped the bowl from his hand, nudging him away with her hip. “At least let me make breakfast.”

His overly still and perplexed stare somehow smoldered with the sense he wanted to lean in and kiss her… If not for Whitney being nearby…

And still, Laila looked forward to Whitney being here. To a peaceful morning together and Adrian’s presence adding to the fun.

“Well, then I’ll gather ingredients.” He raised a brow, challenging her to stop him.

All she did was laugh and shake her head. “You can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Can I help too?” Whitney peered up at Ramos, looking especially small next to him and in this cramped kitchen.

“Sure can, Chicken Nugget.” He scrubbed her hair. “I need someone to tell me where your Mama keeps everything. Let’s start with finding the eggs.”

Since he’d already used this kitchen to knock together last night’s dinner, he humored Whitney as she flung open the fridge and Laila tried not to wince at the crashing sound of the metal door hitting the cupboard beside it.

Seeming to take the crashing as a sign, Adrian moved quickly and shot out a hand, collecting the carton of eggs before Whitney could. He sent Laila a relieved expression as he lowered the carton to counter, and then asked Whitney if she could point out the milk and butter.

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