Page 80 of Power Play

Her arched brow only enhances the curiosity written all over her face. “And what is it?”

“It’s Maya’s surprise,” I repeat, stepping into her. My eyes fall on her round tits under her tight tee. “You’ll see it when she sees it.”

“Okay.” Layla rolls her eyes, her lips pouty.

“Where is she? I kinda thought you’d both be here.”

“I asked Angie to watch her.” Layla takes a deep breath, boring her gaze into mine. “She’s staying there for a sleepover.”

The hidden meaning behind her words isn’t lost on me. She wants to stay the night. And she wants to stay the night when it’s just us. When I can do anything to her without worrying about being heard.

“I need to warn you.” I move closer; my eyes are on her parted lips. “If you step into my house, we’re going straight to my bedroom…and you’re not leaving it until I say so.”

Her hand lands on my chest, and her chocolate brown eyes shimmer with a delighted glint. “I’ve been counting on it.”

Fuck, if my dick wasn’t hard already…

I grab her hand, entwining our fingers. Her palm is sizzling hot, sending shivers down my spine as I lead her to the front door. Quickly, I open it and step aside, letting her walk in first. My eyes stay on her the entire time, even when I close the door.

So many questions arise in my mind, so many answers I want to hear from her. And yet, I’m fucking tired of waiting, of staying away from her. I’ll ask everything later. Maybe in the morning. Or next week. It doesn’t matter. All I want now is her. To be inside her. It’s desperation in its finest form.

I put the box on the table by the front door and throw my keys and wallet next to it. Then I stalk toward her, standing so innocently in the middle of my hallway. This is something not a lot of people know, but there’s nothing innocent when it comes to Layla Benson. She’s sinful and devilish and so incredibly passionate…I’ve never met a girl like her.

She’s one of a kind.

“What do you want to do first?” I ask, helping her take off her leather jacket. When it lands on the floor, my eyes roam over hergorgeous face and down her deliciously hot body. I don’t think I’ll last long the first time my dick slides inside her pussy.

“You,” she whispers.

“You’ll need to be more specific with your requests, Mama,” I tell her, bending down to capture her lips with mine.

It’s hot and hard from the very first brush of our tongues. My hands curl around her waist, drawing her in, trapping her in my embrace. I ravish her mouth, nibbling on her bottom lip and teasing her with my tongue. The way my heart beats is insane; it’s pounding in my chest, the vibration spreading through my skin. I cup her face with my palm, tilting her head for me, my fingers threading through her blond locks.

“Perfection…just like you always were,” I murmur against her mouth, our hot breaths mingling.

I start moving us toward my bedroom. She’s going backward, eyes locked on me, conveying her need for me better than words ever could. We stumble into my bedroom, and I push the door closed. It’s just us now, in this moment and place. The past, the mistakes, our future. It all stays behind that door. At least for now.

Layla’s fingers fly to my shirt, unbuttoning it impatiently. Once she’s done, she tears it off me and tosses it to the ground, her gaze not wavering from me for even a second. “God, why are you so beautiful?” she says breathlessly.

I smirk. “I’m not as beautiful as you are, but thank you.” Her gaze darkens, and I don’t like the change. I wrap my arms around her and haul her to my chest, my head bent to have a better look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s stupid.” Layla tries to reach for my jeans, but I don’t let her.

“What’s wrong? Tell me, please.”

Biting her bottom lip, she looks away. Her eyes hastily move around the room, her breath quickening as she does. “I don’tlook the way I used to. I don’t wear the same size I used to. I’m just…more, in every meaning of the word. Way more than you remember.”

I study her quietly. All the things I’ve been noticing start making sense. How she constantly tries to pull down her dresses, how she wears those loose tees and baggy jeans. How she asked me to turn off the light, when all I wanted was to see her.

A lonely tear slips out of her eye, and my heart cracks.

No. I can’t let her think this way about herself and her body.

I lead her to the full-length mirror and pull her to stand in front of me so she’s facing it. Tears stream freely down her face, her lips trembling.

“What do you see?” I whisper in her ear, pushing her hair aside.

“Myself. A simple little old me.”

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