Page 16 of Incoming Layne Shift

With a lustful blaze in his look at her, his hands stopped just short of the bottom of her satin bra. “Go ahead and tell me.” His husky tone bore the weight of a dare in it.

Her body not only felt like his hands were lighting her on fire, but incapacitating her. Layne’s emerald eyes looked right back into the depths of his. She was hardly able to swallow down her own saliva that was pooling in her mouth at the thought of what was positioned at the apex of her thighs.

“Tell you what, Joey?” She asked, genuinely wondering what he wanted from her besides a good hard fuck.

He inched his mouth closer to hers, leaving just enough room for a single breath. “I want to hear you tell me you’re going to stop being my good girl and taking my cock any time I want to give it to you.” Joey’s hips rolled up against her to make it unquestionably clear what he planned to give her whether it was the time for it or not.

If any words were spoken in the universe that could have caused her self-control to self-combust, he had just spoken them. Her heart rate was picking up speed and the dead body on the floor no longer registered in her awareness.

With a sharp inhale at the push of his body reminding her pussy how much it was throbbing, she shook her head while her teeth bit into her lower lip.

The tiny gesture of how she drew in her lip only increased his need for her. Closing the gap between their mouths, his lips connected with hers possessively. His teeth then sank into her bottom lip to draw it away from her own bite. Sucking on her lip to savor her taste, he lingered there for not nearly enough time for either of them.

“That wasn’t an answer. Are you going to stop being my good girl, Layney?” His hands grasped onto her ribcage, his thumbs caressing over the delicate skin just below the swell of her breasts. It was all too easy to feel how quick and shallow her breaths were in reaction to him.

Layne caught herself shaking her head again and was quick to push the words out. “No, I will always be your good girl.”

A sensual growl of approval escaped past Joey’s lips when she confirmed what they both already knew. His mouth came to the side of her neck, lavishing it with electrifying kisses as one of his hands slid over the cup of her bra. His fingers pulled the cup away from her breast so he could wrap his hand around the mound of her flesh.

Layne’s hand slid along his shoulder and up the back of his neck as she tilted her head back until it was pressed against the beam behind her. The soft pink lips of her mouth parted as she let out a quiet moan of approval.

Joey pushed himself roughly against her core, despite the clothing on each of their bodies. His hand pushed her body down so she could feel how hard his cock was for her.As his mouth consumed the taste of the skin of her throat, his fingers took the stiff nipple of her breast and twisted it between his fingers. His hips still slowly trying to dry-fuck her.

Her arousal was soaking through her panties as she felt the desire reaching peaks that had her other hand dropping down to frantically pull at the button of her pants. Before her fingers could dip inside to provide some self-provided satisfaction, Joey’s hold set her breast free, dropped to grab her wrist, and pulled it up above her head.

He raised his head from her throat, his lust-drunk expression drawn across his face. “Not yet. I have first dibs on that wet cunt of yours, Layney.”

Fuck. She had some idea of how much Joey got turned on while she worked, but this was a whole new level of his domineering side and she was here for it.

“Then fucking take it.” Her voice was breathy as she leaned forward and crushed her lips against his hungrily. She was met with his tongue pushing past her lips to invade her mouth. His hand tightly held onto her side inside her shirt while his other dropped her wrist and grabbed the side of her face. His fingers curled around the back of her neck, keeping her head exactly where he wanted.

The ding of the elevator on the other end of the wide-open space echoed through the air. No one should have been in the building at this time of night. Yet, here they were loaded with weaponry and keeping company with a rapidly-cooling body on the floor.

Immediately, their faces split from one another. Layne dropped her legs down from his waist as Joey set her on her feet. His fingers made sure the first thing he did was pull Layne’s mask up over her face as a measure to keep her safe, no matter the cost.

“This way.” His hand latched onto hers tightly pulling her in the direction opposite of the elevator doors. By the time they got to the door leading to the stairwell, he had his skull-faced mask also back in place.

Running over to the door to the emergency exit with Joey, she slipped into the stairwell first with Joey close behind her. Her feet quickly carried her down the steps, his heavy set of boots sounding off quickly behind her.

When the fresh night air washed over them as they exited the building, she saw Joey’s black sports bike parked right where he had left it in the alley just several feet from the door they just emerged from. He jogged ahead of her, snagged the sole helmet off the seat, and tossed it at Layne before mounting the bike. His hand retrieved a pair of protective riding glasses from his thigh pocket, sliding them over his eyes. A second later the purr of the engine filled the air.

Her hands caught the helmet, immediately pushing it down over her head. Her hand grabbed onto his hard bicep as she hopped on behind him. After her ass was in the seat, Layne’s arms were tightly wrapped around his waist as she adhered herself to his back.

As Joey pulled out of the alley, Layne looked and her gut filled with both dread and relief as they sped by the front of the warehouse they had just fled from. Two NYPD patrol cars sat out front with their lights flashing. There was no way that they were there by coincidence. Someone had tipped them off.

CHAPTER NINE

Inside the modest apartment belonging to one Rebecca Zappa, the two girls hung out in the cramped living room. The limited space was filled with papers scattered across the coffee table, boxes of samples of various wedding paraphernalia, and a laptop off to the side.

Rebecca rapidly tapped the top of her pen against the pad of paper while she mulled over the thoughts inside her head and stared down at the doodles and diagrams in front of her.

Layne lay across the dark brown leather sofa with her head supported by the arm of it, a bottle of beer hanging out in one hand while the other rested on top of her stomach. Her hair swept up into a messy bun on top of her head, a comfy pair of black leggings on her lower half, and a distressed scoop-neck turquoise tee hanging off of her upper body.

“You know,” Layne spoke up, “does it really matter where the flowers go?” She turned her head to look over at her best friend. This entire wedding planning was all Rebecca’s jam and not something Layne had given second thoughts to. Did people actually care if flowers were low on the table or up on a pedestal? She didn’t.

Her blonde bestie’s jaw hung open after a small gasp, her pen immediately ceasing its movement. “Of course it does!” she exclaimed. She set the pen down on the pad with a dramatic sigh. “I’m not going to let you downplay your own damn wedding day, Layne. It’s going to be extravagantly beautiful, perfectly executed, and all you need to do is show up and say ‘I do’. You deserve it after all the shitstorms you’ve had to endure.”

Rebecca knew better than to bring up the horrific circumstances surrounding Layne’s first marriage—if one could even call it that. Signing papers that were questionably legal with Eric had been nothing but a cold and emotionless business transaction. She knew that Layne deserved better than that. Even if she still had minor reservations about Joey, she could agree that he had been taking care of Layne more than any man ever had. That was no easy feat.

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