Page 42 of Once I Find You

I want to say, “fuck yes.” But seeing her like this, looking up at me with those sad eyes, I can’t. “No, I’m not mad at you. I was scared, alright?”

“I’m happy you came. I mean, I thought you were ignoring me tonight because I was being annoying.”

“You’re not annoying. I fell asleep watching some movie with Mason. I…If I had heard your first voicemail I would’ve been there.”

“Really?”

God, what am I even doing now? I keep telling myself I’m on the fence of what to do with her, and then when she’s in front of me as sweet as ever I just fucking fall. “Don’t think this means I’ll be going out to clubs.”

She laughs, nodding as she steps closer again. “So, you’ll stay, right? It’s late.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Please? It’s my birthday! Well, it was. But it still counts, right?” I sigh, and she celebrates already, as if I said yes. She takes my hand in her smaller one and pulls me deeper into her apartment to lure me away from the door. She pulls me clear to her couch, positioning me like a mannequin, so I oblige and sit. She follows, sitting right onto my lap.

Her dress is so short that it all but rides completely up, showing me the glimpse of pink underneath them covering her hips. My hands move to her ass instinctually, tugging slightly on the fabric. “This is all you wore under?”

“Easy access?”

My hand comes down on her ass, not hard enough to hurt, but a warning. “For who?”

“You, daddy. I wanted you to come and see what I wore for you.”

Fuck, I can’t help it. Maybe it’s because I’m still tired, but I have no fight left in me. “You want me to believe you wore this for me?” She nods, biting her lip. “I don’t believe you.”

“I only want you,” she admits breathlessly. “I…have never wanted anyone else.”

Usually when someone says that, you take it with a grain of salt. No one means that. You just feel so much in the moment, you think you feel that way. But with Layla…I wonder if that’s true. I wonder if that’s why she’s so determined to tempt me.

And fuck if it doesn’t feel good to be wanted by her.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Can He Even Breathe?

LAYLA

I feel embarrassed when I admit that. But…I want him to see how serious I am. If I have to admit all my deepest thoughts, I will. I just want him to know how badly I know it’s him. It can’t be anyone else.

His hand explores my ass, gripping one cheek tightly and lifting. “Fuck. Do you even know that you’re a vixen?”

I’m sure my smile is a mile wide. “Am I?”

“Don’t play coy. You’re on my lap, telling me I’m all you want. That’s dangerous.”

“I mean it, though.” I look into his eyes and move myself on his lap, my core grinding over his budding erection in his jeans. It feels so good.

“I know, baby. You just need to cum again, don’t you?”

I nod desperately and he tugs on the top of my thong, causing it to draw up. I feel the pressure from the fabric against both of my holes, and I move my hips again desperate for friction.

“Fuck, I want another show. You gonna give me one?” I nod again, and he pulls the panties down now. I quickly oblige, slipping them off, and he rests me onto his thigh. “Show daddy how desperate you are to cum again.”

I put my arms atop his shoulders and tentatively move my hips. My clit grinds directly on top of his jeans, and the dragging against the rough fabric is just the right amount of pressure. It’s a bit degrading, grinding myself against him like I’m in heat.

Well, I guess I feel like I am whenever I see him. The sight of him…the smell. I could get lost in it. I’m desperate to.

His large hand on the back of my neck keeps me from turning to mush on top of him. He moves his other hand to my hip, tentatively moving me until he finds no protest, and then he begins to move me himself.