Layne followed her, not because she was pissed, she’d made that bed by leaving him and she had to deal with his mother her way. He’d said his piece, Vera had ignored it, Rocky clearly wasn’t going to bolt because of Vera’s antics so now he wasn’t getting involved.

No, he followed her because he was pissed. She’d made her play and got her way and Layne didn’t like how she went about it. It didn’t matter that she was right, putting that shit with Gaines under his nose so he’d intensify the operation. Because, in doing it, she’d also put herself out there and that, coupled with how she’d made her play, pissed him off.

It was time to teach Rocky a lesson.

She was halfway across his bedroom when he made it to the door and closed it loudly behind him. The instant he did, she stopped and whirled.

“I’ll be needing to have words with your mother,” she announced.

“Later,” Layne returned, moving toward her.

“No, in about two minutes, before she goes to the grocery store and comes back and steals my cake.”

“Got things bigger than cakes to talk about, sweetcheeks,” Layne replied, still advancing on her, her face cleared, she got a good look at him, she read him and astutely started backing up.

“Layne –” she started, her hand coming up and Layne didn’t stop moving but his eyes went to her hand then back to hers.

“Not wearin’ your bandage,” he remarked.

She kept edging backward, her hand still up and she asked, “What?”

“Bandage, baby, for your wrist,” Layne kept moving forward, she hit the edge of the archway to the bathroom and righted herself instantly, moving backwards into the bathroom.

“Um… it doesn’t hurt anymore,” she replied.

“Doc say you can take it off?” Layne asked as they moved through the bathroom and into walk-in.

“No, Layne, um… what are you doing?”

“I’m talkin’ about your wrist and then, in about two seconds, I’m gonna carry you to my bed, turn you over my knee and slap that sweet ass of yours.”

Her eyes grew round just as she hit the wall of the walk-in.

“Layne –”

He got deep into her space, her hand hit his chest and he kept going, forcing her arm to bend at the elbow and trapping it between them as he put his hands on the wall on either side of her.

“Played me, sweetcheeks.”

“I know.” She surprised him by instantly copping to it. “But it was important.”

“It’s important, we talk about it, you don’t f**k me.”

She stared up at him and rested her free hand at his waist. “I didn’t f**k you, Layne,” she whispered.

“Oh yeah you did, baby, now,” his head dipped and he got in her face, “I f**k you.”

“Layne,” she breathed, her eyes glued to his and hearing that, he lost it.

His hands moved from the wall to her jaws, he tipped her head back further and pulled her up as his mouth slammed down on hers.

She opened it immediately, his tongue slid inside, her arms glided around his shoulders and she pressed herself into him.

He kissed her hard, demanding, wet and she gave it to him, everything he took from her, her fingers moving to his jacket to pull it off his shoulders, he released her face, dropped his arms and let it fall. His hands went directly to her ass, pulling her h*ps tight against his hardening c**k and her hands went to his shirt, pulling it out of his pants, going in, her fingers trailing his skin.

His mouth released hers and travelled down her neck, she turned her head and whispered, “Baby,” in his ear and his hand went under her sweater, up and he cupped her breast. She strained into his hand and repeated her whispered, “Baby.”

She smelled good, she tasted good and her nipple was hard against his palm. She was wearing one of her tight skirts and high heels and Layne liked all of that, he’d been liking it for awhile and he was about to like it a lot more.

“You want it?” he growled in her ear.

“I –” she started and abruptly he pulled away, turned her to facing the wall and moved into her.

“Put your hands to the wall and don’t move them,” he ordered.

“Layne.”

“Do it. Now.”

“Layne.”

He pressed his hard c**k into her ass. “Now, sweetcheeks.”

She put her hands to the wall, he pulled her tight skirt up her thighs and heard her suck in breath as he looked down.

Fuck, she was wearing lace-topped thigh highs and satin-backed, dark blue panties that showed a f**kuva lot of cheek.

Christ, hot.

“Layne,” she repeated on a breath, he got her skirt around her waist and one hand went down, in the front her panties and the other hand went up, yanking her sweater over her tits, then he jerked down her bra and his fingers tugged her nipple.

That got him another gasp, his finger hit her clit, her h*ps jerked and she whispered, “Oh my God,” and moved to press back into him.

“Keep your hands on the wall,” he growled in her ear, working her cl*t and nipple at the same time.

Her head fell back on his shoulder and her breath got heavy.

“Oh my God,” she repeated, turning so her forehead was pressed to his neck, her back arched into his hand and her h*ps ground down into his fingers.

“You like this?” he asked even though he knew she did, he wanted to make her say it.

“Yes,” she breathed.

He stopped playing with her clit, thrust two fingers into her drenched pu**y and turned his head to watch her neck arch, pressing her head against his shoulder, her lips parted. She pushed back against him, losing concentration, her hands slipping down the wall.

“Hands to the wall, Rocky,” he ordered and her h*ps jerked as his fingers moved in and out of her and his other hand worked her tit.

“You,” she breathed urgently after he’d worked her for awhile.

“You’ll get me, baby,” he promised, watching her face, “fuck yourself on my fingers.”

She instantly did as she was told, Rocky, his Rocky, Jesus, so f**king hot. She took herself close, so close, she was reaching for it, it was going to be good and watching her he nearly came in his pants.

When she was almost there, he moved away, she gasped and started to turn.

“Hands to the wall,” he demanded, she kept her hands to the wall but twisted her neck to look at him, her eyes unfocused, her face filled with need and he hooked her panties with his thumb and tore them down her legs. “Step outta those.” She did as ordered again, Layne freed his c**k from his pants and went on. “Spread your legs.” She again did what she was told, tipping her ass to him, ready for it, nonverbally begging for it. “That’s it,” he growled, bent his knees and thrust into her.