Page 107 of The Score We Never Settled

What we used to be.

Two crazy kids who fell in love, and that’s all that mattered.

I immediately jolt, however, when her fingers find the button of my jeans and unclasps it on the first go, not expecting her to go right for the damn kill so quickly.

All this built-up sexual tension has finally broken through, and my ass is not resistant to Layla Jean wanting to smother me with her mouth, her body, and anything else she wants to give me.

I reach for the door, finding it unlocked when I shove it open, and one-arm lift Layla off her feet to move her inside.

Our kiss doesn’t break, in fact, Layla clings tighter to me as I kick the door shut and open my eyes for the first time to find where I’m at.

I’ve never set foot in Layla’s home before. All I notice is that we’re in a foyer with white wooden tiles and a mirror that stares back at me.

“Where?” I ask impatiently, because I need to be inside her, and it has to be quick.

“Right here,” she answers, pointing behind her. “Knock the stuff off the table.”

Moving forward, my fingers recognize glass and something mossy, so I move it to the side to fit her body, but Layla Jean flat-out shoves the shit mercilessly to the hardwood floors with zero tolerance for it being in the way.

Okay, we’re going to have hot, insane sex while we break shit.

I’m here for it.

I spread her legs wider for me to step between them when she drags me closer, crashing her lips to mine again in a needy kiss that speaks of where she’s at mentally, and it’s all with me.

This isn’t what I had planned when I dropped her off. I knew it was going to take more time for us to get to a place—theplace—I wanted us to be.

However, I’m not one to turn down sex.

With Layla Jean.

I haven’t fucked anyone since I left Magnolia Ridge, since her, and my cock misses being in a tight pussy that has had it and me in a choke hold for half our lives already.

It’s home.

The only home.

The only place we want to be.

So when she takes my cock out of my jeans, there’s no turning back now. It’s the score we’ve never settled. Us, fucking and making love without her sassy words and my anger issues.

Sliding her dress up her warm thighs, I hook onto her panties and pull them to the side, sinking one digit inside her soaking cunt, and Layla moans.

It’s sweet and sexy, and with each pump, my girl slowly begins to rock her body against it, earning her two fingers to ride.

The table underneath her scrapes a little against the floor, but it doesn’t deter either one of us from slowing down. She pumps my cock in her palm, working my balls into a frenzied state that sprints right up to my gut.

“Take what you want, Layla,” I order against her plush lips. “I’m here to serve my girl.”

She coaxes my mouth wider, using her legs to draw me closer between them as I pull her closer to the edge for easier access.

Removing my fingers, I break our kiss and bring them up to my lips, clasping around them and tasting her intoxicating flavor of fuckingmine.

Layla’s hazel eyes gloss over, her breathing uneven as she studies me. Her lips parted, cheeks pinked in a pretty little blush that has my cock twitching once in her palm.

It’s all the motivation my beautiful other half needs to escort me right to her entrance, and I push in.

And I immediately choke on a grunt because she squeezes me so fucking tight that I’m never leaving.