Ray likes the sound of fear and panic in the voice on the other end. It reminds him that regardless of how much money someone has, it’s good to be the person with the upper hand. And he definitely has the upper hand right now.
“I’m bored with this conversation and I’ve got shit to do. Leave the money in our usual drop-off place by nine tomorrow morning.”
Ray hangs up the phone and tosses it in the general direction of the bag of peas, a huge smile on his face as he turns up the volume of the movie as loud it will go, slides his hand down the front of his pants, and palms his erection. Thoughts of Layla Carlysle fill his mind as he remembers the way she fought against him.
She had a hard little body and it made him hot thinking about her working up a sweat to get it that way. She was also soft in all the right places, especially between her legs.
His cock grows longer and fuller as he slides his hand up and down his shaft, thinking about his fingers sliding between Layla’s legs. Her thighs were clenched tight around his hand, trying to deny him access to that sweet place he’d love to sink his dick into, but he still managed to pry his fingers between those smooth thighs and touch all that creamy, hot skin for a few seconds before she bit him.
Ray pumps his fist faster and faster, his balls tightening as he thinks about the heat he felt on his fingers and her wet mouth clamped down on his hand. It hurt like a mother fucker, but Ray got off on the pain. He pictures her wrapping that sweet mouth around his cock and bobbing her head up and down on him while he pulls her hair and pushes himself to the back of her throat until she gags and maybe even bites down on him.
It doesn’t take long before he’s panting and moaning, cursing Layla’s name loudly in the small confines of his trailer as he brings himself to completion.
He slumps back against the couch with a satisfied smile on his face, hoping the next time he has a few minutes alone with Layla Carlysle, she’ll fight him even harder. It’s always better when they struggle. And Ray can’t wait to feel that little hell cat clawing and scratching at him again.
“You’re going to be mine someday very soon, princess. I’m not ready for you just yet, but I will be. And you’re going to be ready for me.”
The scream rips from my throat as I bolt up in bed, kicking the twisted covers off of my legs. I can’t stop screaming and I feel like I can’t breathe. The soft, cool sheets suddenly feel like hot, sweaty hands wrapped around my legs, and I just want them off.
The door to my room bursts open and slams against the opposite wall as I continue to whimper and try unsuccessfully to get free, the sheets getting more and more tangled with my legs.
“Get them off! GET THEM OFF!” I scream frantically as I claw at the material.
Brady is across the room in seconds, climbs onto the bed with me, and cradles my face in his hands, forcing me to look into his eyes.
“Shhh, it’s okay, Layla. Look at me, it’s okay. It was just a dream.”
I shake my head vigorously, tears pooling in my eyes as I remember my attacker’s words, his breath, and the feel of his hands on me.
“You’re safe now, just breathe.”
The fight leaves my body, and I close my eyes, sagging forward until my head is resting against his chest.
His bare chest.
“I’m going to untangle you from the sheets, okay?” he asks softly, his hand resting on top of my head.
A chill rolls through my body at Brady's gentle words, and it has nothing to do with my damp, sweaty skin from the dream and everything to do with the man in my bed.
The dream is momentarily forgotten as he moves away from me. With the bright moonlight streaming in through the window, and the nightlight in my bathroom, I have a clear view of him now. His sculpted chest and stomach tightens with the movement of his arms as he starts pulling my legs out of the tangled mess of sheets. The only thing he wears is a pair of drawstring sweat pants that hang low on his waist, the