Chaps and Chance Read online

  “No,” he said, grinning when he realized what she was talking about. “I like you like this.”

  He smoothed his free hand over the sinfully soft skin of her ass. “I like all your parts and I’m going to prove it.” He pressed a kiss to the place his hand had caressed. “Just relax.”

  “How am I supposed to relax, when—Oh my God!” Her back arched, her hair falling in wild waves over her shoulders as his tongue resumed its work between her legs.

  He kissed and licked, suckling her lips into his mouth, penetrating her with his tongue, as his fingers stayed busy at the top of her, building the tension inside of her until she rocked back against him. He waited until her breath came in swift pants and he sensed that her embarrassment had evaporated in the face of the erotic tension building inside of her.

  Only then did he bring his other hand between her legs and plunge his thumb into her heat, using her slickness to coat his skin before he transferred his attention from her pussy to the tight ring above it.

  She stiffened almost immediately. “Cole, I—”

  “Don’t worry,” he said, increasing his pressure on her clit, making her gasp. “It’s going to feel good, I promise.”

  “I’ve never,” she said, thighs trembling as his tongue circled her pussy, teasing her before he thrust inside. “I’m not sure I…oh…”

  I’m going to make you sure, Cole thought, cock pulsing hungrily between his legs as he brought her near the edge again.

  He waited until she spread her legs and arched closer to his face, obviously as desperate to come as he was to give her pleasure, and then he slipped his thumb inside her ass, summoning a groan from his girl that confirmed it felt as good as he’d hoped it would. He kept his tongue busy in her pussy, his fingers on her clit, and his thumb filling her ass.

  It was only a few seconds before his efforts were rewarded.

  Layla cried out his name as she came, sending a rush of slick heat washing out to coat his tongue, making Cole’s balls ache like someone had strapped a dumbbell to his ball sac. Damn, he needed to be inside her. Now.

  Gritting his jaw, fighting to hold on to the last of his control, Cole flipped Layla over onto her back. Seeing the lust-drunk look on her face almost did him in, but somehow he managed to form words.

  “Are you on the pill?” he asked. “Or do you want me to get a condom?”

  “No condom,” she said, reaching for him. “I’m on the pill and I want to feel your skin. I want you bare inside me. Inside. Now.”

  Cole didn’t need any further encouragement. He reached down, positioning the swollen, aching head of his cock at her slick entrance, and sank into her with a sound of pure bliss.

  God, she was perfect. So hot. So tight. So sweet as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, sighing with pleasure as their lips met again. So…Layla.

  “Beautiful,” he gasped as he pulled back and slid home again, every stroke building the need searing along his nerve endings, making it clear he wasn’t going to last long. “I’ve got maybe two minutes in me, sweetness. You feel too good.”

  “Yes,” she chanted, lifting into his strokes, her body already tightening around him. “Fuck, Cole, I feel like I’m going to die it’s so good.”

  “I love it when you cuss while I’m inside you,” he said, rhythm growing swifter, no matter how hard he tried to slow himself down. “It’s so fucking hot.”

  “You’re so fucking hot.” She bucked against him, breath catching as her clit ground against the top of his cock. “I can’t believe that felt so good. I can’t believe I let you touch me there.”

  “How about fucking you there, angel? Would you want me to?”

  “Yes, everywhere. I want to feel you everywhere,” she said, the words making him crazy, eroding the last of his control. “Oh yes, Cole. Yes!”

  He felt her go, her pussy gripping his cock so tight he couldn’t have held on if he tried. He rammed home, coming with a wild, animal sound that make him grateful his cabin was far, far away from his brother’s and mother’s houses.

  He didn’t want anyone to hear what Layla did to him, no one but her.

  “Fuck me,” he panted, chest burning as he fought to catch his breath.

  “Yes, I did,” she panted. “I really did.”

  He laughed. “You did. That was…amazing.”

  Her tongue swept across her lips, her cheeks flushing. “I’ve never said so many dirty things during sex before.”

  “Was it okay?” He hoped he hadn’t pushed her too far, too fast. “Because I really liked it.”

  “I loved it,” she said, a smile bursting across her face, leveling him all over again. “I don’t know if it’s the wine or what, but I want to say even more dirty things.”

  “Like what?” Cole asked, holding his breath as she leaned in to whisper a stream of obscene sexiness into his ear.

  “Stop,” he finally croaked, when he was pretty sure his blood pressure was reaching an unhealthy level. “No more until we’re in the shower and I’m hard enough to fuck you again or I might spontaneously combust.”

  She giggled. “Yes. Let’s do it in the shower. And on the kitchen counter. And on the floor in front of the fireplace. I want you all night long.”

  “All night long,” he swore, before adding silently,

  And the night after that and the night after that.

  He knew Layla had said she wasn’t ready to fit into anyone else’s life, but if he had his way, he was going to fit into hers. Fit as perfectly as their bodies did as he scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the bathroom.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Layla

  Layla woke early Sunday morning when the light in the room was still thin and gray. The only sound was the faint crow of roosters from somewhere farther up the hill behind the house and the gentle shush of leaves rustling in the breeze outside the open window.

  She lay staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling fan and for a split second she couldn’t remember where she was. Then she felt the heavy arm wrapped around her waist and Cole’s breath warm on her neck, and it all came rushing back.

  All of it, from the shameless hunger he’d awakened in her to the way they’d laughed as they ate cold ribs and drank too much wine in front of the fireplace to the sweet things he’d whispered against her skin as they’d drifted off to sleep. The night had been so perfect that remembering it was enough to send a wave of emotion rolling through her with the force of a barrel flying off the precipice at Niagara Falls.

  She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together, struggling to retain control as gratitude, hope, and warmer, more intense feelings she wasn’t ready to name swelled in her chest. It had been so long since she’d felt so special, so safe. So long since she’d woken up feeling so happy and damned lucky to be alive.

  And it was all because of the man softly snoring in his sleep behind her.

  Careful not to disturb him, Layla rolled over and tucked one arm beneath her cheek, propping up enough to get a view of Cole’s face as he slept. With his features relaxed and his full lips softly parted, he looked like the boy he’d been when he’d first started looking at her with that particular gleam in his eyes. Even with golden fuzz covering his cheeks, he didn’t look a day over eighteen. It would be so easy to believe she’d been transported back in time and given the chance to make a different choice, to live a different life, to have Cole be her first, her one, and her only, instead of Wayne.

  The thought of sex with her husband had left her cold for most of the past two years, but Layla could still remember days when there was nothing better in her world than to sneak away to the hayloft with Wayne and find new ways to bring each other pleasure.

  But now she knew that those early explorations and the years of predictable lovemaking that had followed were pale shadows compared to the magic a man and a woman could make together. She hadn’t realized she was capable of the kind of abandon she’d experienced last night, or that dropping her defenses would leave
her feeling so sexy, strong, and powerful.

  She would have thought she’d wake up the morning after having a man’s thumb in that part of her for the first time feeling ashamed of herself, or at the very least intensely embarrassed. But when Cole’s eyes finally drifted open nearly an hour after she’d begun watching him sleep, she didn’t blush or look away.

  She simply smiled. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

  “Good morning, sweetness,” he said, blinking sleepily as he returned her grin. “How long have you been awake?”

  “About an hour,” she said, going into his arms as he reached for her.

  “I’m sorry.” He pulled her onto his chest, wrapping a warm arm around her waist. “You should have woken me up. I would have made you coffee.”

  “I liked watching you.” She pressed a kiss to his bare skin, her body beginning to hum the way it always did when she touched this man. “You’re pretty when you sleep.”

  He humphed. “Not pretty enough or you would have woken me up with a kiss.”

  She laughed. “I don’t do morning breath, Lawson. Not even for a man as pretty as you.”

  “You’re not using your imagination, Parker,” Cole countered, rolling over until she was pinned beneath him. “You didn’t have to kiss me on the mouth.”

  “Oh?” Layla’s pulse picked up as Cole’s hand trailed up her thigh. “Is that so? Where should I have kissed you then?” she asked, playing innocent.

  “I’ll show you.” He tossed off the blanket and sheet before scooting down to the end of the bed until his mouth was level with her curled legs. “There’s the ankle, for example. The ankle is very sensitive first thing in the morning.” He pressed a kiss to the skin just beneath the inside of her left ankle, his soft lips and scruffy face combining to make the kiss even more delicious than she’d been expecting.

  She shivered. “That is nice. I didn’t know that about ankles.”

  “Backs of knees, too,” he said, urging her legs farther apart, settling between them before bringing his mouth to hover behind her bent knee.

  “See?” he said, breath heating her skin, sending another prickle of awareness dancing on kitten feet up the inside of her thighs. “This back of knee doesn’t care what my breath smells like. It has no awareness of morning breath. Not even a little bit. Isn’t that right back of knee?”

  “Yes,” he answered himself in a high-pitched voice. “That’s right, Cole.”

  Layla giggled. “Is that supposed to be my knee talking back to you?”

  “Well, of course it’s me,” he continued in the same squeaky tone. “Who else would it be, Missy? Seems like you’d recognize my voice after thirty years together.”

  “I’m so sorry, knee,” Layla said, rolling her eyes as she laughed. “I can’t believe you’re making my body parts talk. You’re so weird.”

  “Weird?” He affected a wounded expression.

  “So weird,” she said, still laughing.

  “Fine, Parker,” he said, eyes darkening as his palms came to rest on the insides of her thighs. “If making your body parts talk is so weird, I guess I’ll have to settle for making you scream instead.”

  He reached up, tugging her underwear to one side. A second later his mouth was between her legs and Layla’s comeback died on her lips. Her head fell back and her hands fisted in the cool sheets as Cole worked his magic.

  It was magic. There was no other way to describe what he did to her, the way his tongue seemed to be hinged in the middle and possessed of at least a dozen more muscles than the average tongue. She had no idea how many muscles an average tongue possessed and she didn’t care. She didn’t want any other tongue between her legs, any other man magic-ing her body except this one. This sweet, wicked, funny, wonderful man who she knew from growing up together was always the same—drunk or sober, late at night or early in the morning, whether they were working together as friends or waking up together as lovers.

  When she was younger, she hadn’t had the sense to realize how valuable consistency was in a partner. She’d taken Cole’s steady moods, easy laugh, and even-keeled personality for granted. Her teenaged self had found Wayne’s highs and lows exciting and mysterious.

  But as the years had passed and the swings from high to low had grown more severe, Layla became increasingly grateful for things she could count on. Things like equations that balanced and the laws of science. Even simple things like the fact that a box of Triscuits always tasted like a box of Triscuits.

  She’d never thought she would find a man she could count on, a man whose mystery stemmed from his playful spirit and curious mind, not from dark secrets or hidden troubles. A man who acted like she was the most precious thing he’d ever touched, the most interesting person he’d ever talked to, and the sweetest taste that had ever filled his mouth.

  “God, Layla, I love eating your pussy,” he moaned against her slickness, making her gasp as his voice vibrated her aroused flesh, building the tension fisting in her core. “I’m going to have you for breakfast every day. Every fucking day.”

  “Yes.” Layla’s breath came faster until tiny black dots danced across the ceiling. “Yes, please. I’m almost. Almost—”

  Her words cut off with a pained sound, but the sensations sweeping across her skin, twisting low in her body, setting her blood to fizzing were all pleasure. All bliss. All sunlight and moonbeams and a unicorn or two leaping over the moonbeams to land in a giant sea of rainbow sprinkles.

  “Rainbow sprinkles,” she sighed, catching her breath as she floated back to earth.

  “Curse word I haven’t heard of?” Cole asked, easing onto the mattress beside her. “Or my new nickname?”

  “Both.” Layla giggled as she opened her eyes to find Cole watching her, a mixture of heat and affection in his gaze that made her heart feel three sizes too big for her chest. “When I was growing up, I loved going to get soft-serve after school with my mom. She’d always let me get double rainbow sprinkles.” Her smile softened. “Those are some of my clearest, best memories of her.”

  Cole brushed her hair from her forehead. “Then I’m happy to be called Rainbow Sprinkles, sweetness. But let’s keep it between us. My big brother would tease me for the rest of my life if he found out I let you call me something that girly.”

  Layla rolled her eyes. “Oh please, who cares? How girly can you be when you have a girlfriend who can’t get enough of your body?”

  The “G” word was out of her mouth before she knew what she was saying, but the second she realized what she’d done she hurried to backtrack. “I mean a girl who’s a friend. Who you sleep with. Sometimes,” she stammered, Cole’s grin growing wider with every word that passed her lips. “Oh whatever. You know what I mean.” She moved to slap his shoulder, but he captured her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss.

  “I would be thrilled to call you my girlfriend,” he said, lips moving against her skin. “I would have asked, but I didn’t want to rush you. I figured I’d already gotten you from insisting we be just friends to hanging out in my bed in a day and I shouldn’t push my luck.”

  “It wasn’t a day,” she said, holding his gaze as he trailed kisses up her arm. “It started a long time ago. Like in elementary school, when you didn’t make fun of me for being a math nerd.”

  “Only because I wanted to be the best at math,” he said with a grin. “I can’t take credit where no credit is due. I used to get so mad when you beat me on every test. If I’d known they existed, I would have made a voodoo doll of your cute little, ponytailed self and stuck pins in it every night.”

  Layla smiled. “No, you wouldn’t have. Your heart was in the right place, even when you were a kid. I never heard you say a mean word to anyone. You’re a good one, Lawson.”

  “Not all the time.” Cole’s expression tightened and he ceased delivery of his tingle-inducing kisses. “I was an asshole to my little brother’s fiancée the first time she came to visit the ranch. I was too quick to judge and charged
in thinking I was protecting Bubba…” He sighed. “I just ended up making an ass of myself and upsetting a woman who’d already been through hell.”

  “But you apologized, didn’t you?” She lifted her hand, scratching his prickly cheek.

  “Yeah.” He leaned into her touch, reminding her of the puppy she’d loved so much when she was a little girl, the one her father had given away after her mother died because he said Biscuit scared the horses. “But I still feel like an asshole every time I sit down to dinner across from Marisol and think about how bad I made her feel. I didn’t mean to, but that doesn’t excuse it.”

  “But it does,” she said, capturing his chin and wiggling it gently until he lifted his eyes to hers. “Believe me, a real apology is all it takes. Reece and I were like oil and water back in school, remember? But as soon as I apologized, we were on our way to being oil and vinegar.”

  He nodded, but the dubious look remained in his eyes.

  “Seriously,” she continued. “We have so much fun together now. I adore her and I know she feels the same way. You can’t undo the past, but you can make up for your mistakes. If you really want to. I’m sure Marisol knows you do and has forgiven and forgotten.”

  His hand came to rest on her hip, reminding her that her underwear was still askew. “That’s smart advice. You plan on taking it yourself?”

  Layla blinked and reached down to discreetly adjust her panties. “What do you mean?”

  “You can’t undo all those years with Wayne, but you can take steps to make sure they don’t come back to haunt you,” he said, a pleading look creeping into his bright green eyes. “Let me take you to the police station today, sweetness. I can’t stay with you every minute of the day, no matter how much I want to and I need to know you’re safe.”

  “A police report won’t keep me safe,” she whispered, but deep down she was starting to think he was right.

  Maybe it would be best to go to the police and at least get documentation of the threats. Worst case scenario, if she were to suddenly disappear, a paper trail would make sure Wayne was the prime suspect. At least that way there was a good chance he wouldn’t go free to hurt some other woman down the line.