I looked at Ben. “Call Onyx and get him over here. I think he and Phil need to have a little chat.” Onyx was the guy you called when you needed shit taken care of. People thought I was a crazy motherfucker. I had nothing on Onyx.
Phil’s eyes started blinking and I could have sworn he shit himself. “No! I’ll fix it, Blade.”
I shook my head. “Call him,” I said to Ben.
Looking at Merrick, I said, “Restrain him until Onyx gets here.” I picked up my knife and started to head for the front door.
“What the fuck, Blade? You’re leaving?” Merrick asked.
“Yeah, I’ve got shit to get back to,” I answered him without looking back. I was focused on one thing only.
Getting back to Layla.
Chapter Seventeen
Layla
I took the night off.
After Donovan left to take care of his shit, anger consumed me, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to focus on work. So I locked myself away upstairs and stewed on it.
Annie had retreated into her bedroom so I sat alone. Never a good thing when you’re angry. But I craved it tonight. I wanted to be angry. Kind of like when you’re sad and all you want is to lose yourself in sad songs.
Donovan leaving me when I thought we were spending the night together had brought up old feelings of rejection by my parents. Stupid, I knew, especially after I’d told Donovan only last night we had to unlearn the expectation of rejection. It seemed this would be harder than I thought if my reaction tonight was anything to go by.
I ignored his five phone calls.
He’d been gone an hour and a half when the first call came. They’d continued to come every five minutes or so, with the last one over ten minutes ago. I guessed he’d given up, and that began a new round of anger.
God, could I be any more fucked up? I didn’t want him to call, and yet, when he stopped trying, I wanted him to keep trying. I drove myself mad with my crazy behaviour.
Fuck, this was a good reason to stay single. It had to be a better option than sending yourself mad with stupid expectations. Expectations you knew you shouldn’t have but that you couldn’t fight.
“Layla!”
Donovan.
I stood and watched as he stalked into my lounge room with a look of fury on his face. He stopped a little over two feet from me, his eyes boring into mine. “I’ve been calling you.”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you answer?”
“I didn’t want to.”
He exhaled sharply. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, pushing his fingers through his hair.
We stood sizing each other and the situation up in silence.
“I’m mad at you,” I blurted out, stating the fucking obvious.
“I can see that,” he said in a tight voice.
“I want you to leave.”
“No.”
“Yes, please go. I need to think.”
He came toward me with that intense look of his I knew well. Before I could stop him, he slid his hand around my waist and yanked me the rest of the way to him. Bending his face to mine, he growled, “No, you don’t need to think. You need to feel.”
His spare hand pressed against my stomach and then slid down into the shorts I was wearing. I sucked in a breath when his hand slipped inside my panties and he held my pussy in his hand and gripped tight. He moved so he could whisper in my ear, “Feel that, baby. Feel my fucking need for you.” Then his hand around my waist moved to my ass and pushed me into him, into his erection. “Feel how hard my dick is for you.”
“I feel you, Donovan, but it doesn’t take my anger away.”
His lips crushed to mine in a brutal kiss. We both poured our anger and passion into it. Lips, tongues and teeth collided. My body pulsed with pleasure, and my mind raced to process the mixed emotions assaulting it. I kissed him, but at the same time, I fought him. My hands tried to push him off me, but his strength wouldn’t allow it. His hold on me was too hard to fight. And when he pushed his fingers inside my pussy, I jerked from the explosion of sensations that shot through me.
I moaned into his mouth. I couldn’t stop it.
He pulled away from the kiss to stare at me. “You feel it, don’t you?” he demanded as his fingers continued to pleasure me.
“Yes,” I said, and pulled his face back to mine. Our lips met in another excruciating kiss.
Oh god. This man could be my saviour and my downfall all rolled into one if I wasn’t careful.
His fingers worked me into a frenzy, until I was a panting mess in his arms. As I came, he rasped, “I fucking love watching you come.”
I opened my eyes and focused on him. His need was written all over his face, and my core clenched at that. My need still warred with my anger, but need would always win out. I grasped his face in my hands and begged him, “Fuck me, Donovan.”
A growl rumbled out of his chest, and he lifted me into his arms. My arms and legs wrapped around him, and he carried me into my bedroom depositing me on the bed. He tore his clothes off, not taking his eyes off me while I frantically stripped, too. I was sprawled across the bed, and he spread my legs before moving on top of me. As he did that, I wrapped my legs around him and held on tight, ready for him to take me. His cock pressed against my entrance but he didn’t push in yet.
Phil’s eyes started blinking and I could have sworn he shit himself. “No! I’ll fix it, Blade.”
I shook my head. “Call him,” I said to Ben.
Looking at Merrick, I said, “Restrain him until Onyx gets here.” I picked up my knife and started to head for the front door.
“What the fuck, Blade? You’re leaving?” Merrick asked.
“Yeah, I’ve got shit to get back to,” I answered him without looking back. I was focused on one thing only.
Getting back to Layla.
Chapter Seventeen
Layla
I took the night off.
After Donovan left to take care of his shit, anger consumed me, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to focus on work. So I locked myself away upstairs and stewed on it.
Annie had retreated into her bedroom so I sat alone. Never a good thing when you’re angry. But I craved it tonight. I wanted to be angry. Kind of like when you’re sad and all you want is to lose yourself in sad songs.
Donovan leaving me when I thought we were spending the night together had brought up old feelings of rejection by my parents. Stupid, I knew, especially after I’d told Donovan only last night we had to unlearn the expectation of rejection. It seemed this would be harder than I thought if my reaction tonight was anything to go by.
I ignored his five phone calls.
He’d been gone an hour and a half when the first call came. They’d continued to come every five minutes or so, with the last one over ten minutes ago. I guessed he’d given up, and that began a new round of anger.
God, could I be any more fucked up? I didn’t want him to call, and yet, when he stopped trying, I wanted him to keep trying. I drove myself mad with my crazy behaviour.
Fuck, this was a good reason to stay single. It had to be a better option than sending yourself mad with stupid expectations. Expectations you knew you shouldn’t have but that you couldn’t fight.
“Layla!”
Donovan.
I stood and watched as he stalked into my lounge room with a look of fury on his face. He stopped a little over two feet from me, his eyes boring into mine. “I’ve been calling you.”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you answer?”
“I didn’t want to.”
He exhaled sharply. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, pushing his fingers through his hair.
We stood sizing each other and the situation up in silence.
“I’m mad at you,” I blurted out, stating the fucking obvious.
“I can see that,” he said in a tight voice.
“I want you to leave.”
“No.”
“Yes, please go. I need to think.”
He came toward me with that intense look of his I knew well. Before I could stop him, he slid his hand around my waist and yanked me the rest of the way to him. Bending his face to mine, he growled, “No, you don’t need to think. You need to feel.”
His spare hand pressed against my stomach and then slid down into the shorts I was wearing. I sucked in a breath when his hand slipped inside my panties and he held my pussy in his hand and gripped tight. He moved so he could whisper in my ear, “Feel that, baby. Feel my fucking need for you.” Then his hand around my waist moved to my ass and pushed me into him, into his erection. “Feel how hard my dick is for you.”
“I feel you, Donovan, but it doesn’t take my anger away.”
His lips crushed to mine in a brutal kiss. We both poured our anger and passion into it. Lips, tongues and teeth collided. My body pulsed with pleasure, and my mind raced to process the mixed emotions assaulting it. I kissed him, but at the same time, I fought him. My hands tried to push him off me, but his strength wouldn’t allow it. His hold on me was too hard to fight. And when he pushed his fingers inside my pussy, I jerked from the explosion of sensations that shot through me.
I moaned into his mouth. I couldn’t stop it.
He pulled away from the kiss to stare at me. “You feel it, don’t you?” he demanded as his fingers continued to pleasure me.
“Yes,” I said, and pulled his face back to mine. Our lips met in another excruciating kiss.
Oh god. This man could be my saviour and my downfall all rolled into one if I wasn’t careful.
His fingers worked me into a frenzy, until I was a panting mess in his arms. As I came, he rasped, “I fucking love watching you come.”
I opened my eyes and focused on him. His need was written all over his face, and my core clenched at that. My need still warred with my anger, but need would always win out. I grasped his face in my hands and begged him, “Fuck me, Donovan.”
A growl rumbled out of his chest, and he lifted me into his arms. My arms and legs wrapped around him, and he carried me into my bedroom depositing me on the bed. He tore his clothes off, not taking his eyes off me while I frantically stripped, too. I was sprawled across the bed, and he spread my legs before moving on top of me. As he did that, I wrapped my legs around him and held on tight, ready for him to take me. His cock pressed against my entrance but he didn’t push in yet.
