Taking the Fall: The Full Complete Series Page 3

  As soon as the gate opens, my boy Saint is waiting on me. That grinning bastard is leaning up against my GTO and looking every bit the arrogant asshole I left on the outside. Walking up, I shoulder him out of the way and say “Where.”

  It’s not a question, it’s a demand and he needs to get his ass in gear if he’s taking me where I need to go.

  He laughs. “Yo, good to see you too, man.” He shoulders me back but I’m as big as a brick shithouse so I don’t move an inch. I glare at him and speak clearly. Maybe he got kicked in the head by a mule while I was on the inside. “Where. Is. She.”

  “Calm down, Carter. You’ve been out for twenty-three seconds. Our bags are in the back and we’re headed straight there. I realize we couldn’t discuss this in our phone calls, but you can speak in actual sentences instead of grunts now.” His big grin does nothing to calm my nerves as he pulls out the keys to my classic. I snatch them out of his hand and take a second to run my hands over the top and down the side of my 1967 turquoise beast.

  “If you’ve finished molesting the vehicle, I’ve got a few presents for you in the car to open on the way. Shall we?” Saint walks around to the passenger side and gets in. Bastard is still grinning.

  I open my door, put my bag behind the driver seat and slide on in. I crank the beast to life and I feel it. I’m not what you call a “smiley” type of guy. I’m more of a “silently plotting your death” dude, but right now I can feel my grin as the engine roars to life and I let out the clutch.

  “Head towards the interstate. She’s in Reno,” Saint says. “I’ve got eyes on her right now, before you ask. I’m always the one watching her but I know how you feel about someone else driving this thing so I thought I’d make the special trip. You’re welcome, by the way.”

  I don’t say thanks because he owes me and he knows it. “Give me details. We’ve got a long drive.”

  “Little Layla has been in Reno for the past four years. Took off the day she saw you in prison. I’ve been watching her every day since. She works at a library, so pretty much the most boring person on the planet. Her friend Jeanette though? Goddamn, that chick is wild. She’s been at me for a while and I finally cracked…”

  “Unless her friend is sewn to her body, I don’t give a fuck,” I interrupt. “I haven’t been able to talk openly about her for four years. I haven’t even been able to say her goddamn name! I need to know everything. Starting with whether she has a boyfriend.”

  “Umm, about that…listen, C. I don’t think you need to be driving for this convo. Let’s stop and grab some food and then you can read her file while I drive.”

  I look over and glare at him, but I know he’s right. I’ll jerk the car into a tree if I get the wrong answers. I pull off at the next exit and we hit a diner. Before we get out of the car, Saint hands me two packages. One is a gun. I know immediately from the packaging and weight it’s my Kimber 1911. I take it out and slide it in the back waistband of my jeans.

  “Your leather jacket is in the back. I suggest you put it on. Seeing as you’ve been out a total of three hours, let’s not break every law we can before the day is over,” Saint says, getting out of the car.

  The second package is her file. Hers. I can’t even think her name. It’s like a kick in the nuts hearing him say it so casually. I haven’t said her name since she walked out of the prison that day. It was too painful to say it. I flip it open and there she is. The picture was taken in the summer. She’s wearing a tank top, cut-off shorts, and fuck-me four-inch wedges. Her long red hair is big and loud. I don’t know how she thought she could ever hide from anyone with hair like that. It looks like she’s walking away in the pic, but she’s glancing back over her shoulder, like she knows someone is there. “Good girl,” I mumble to no one.

  I softly trace her body in the picture with my finger. I don’t realize I’ve zoned out until Saint taps on the driver-side window.

  “I got some burgers to go. I’ll drive while you obsess.” The asshole is smirking at me. I don’t say anything, just unfold my big body out of the car and go around to the other side, all while clinging to her file. It’s everything I’ve missed since she “disappeared”. Kind of cute how she thought I wouldn’t keep both my eyes on her.

  The next hours are spent with Saint driving and me looking at everything in the folder. I want to know everything I can before we get there. It’s almost a shame she doesn’t know I’m coming for her. She needs protecting and it’s time to get her out of her father’s reach. She may not know it, but I’m not the only one keeping tabs on her.

  It’s late when we make it to the Kat House. The place looks like a fucking hole in the wall. I can’t believe my sweet girl would choose to hang out in a place like this. We pull in and get out of the car. Saint goes up to some shady-looking guy who I’m assuming is who has been watching Layla and they exchange words. I’m getting anxious. I can feel she’s close. I protected her for so many years; my body is attuned to her. I can almost tell you how many feet away she is.

  Saint comes back over and the guy takes off. “She’s inside. They’re at a booth in the back. I’m going in to chat up her friend. You do your thing.” He pats my shoulder and gives me a sympathetic smile. “Don’t start a fight in there, C. You've only been out for a few hours and I don’t want your ass thrown back in.”

  I nod, knowing we’re both thinking the same thing. If I walk into that bar and someone is all over her, I could possibly lose my shit. And she’s gonna be pissed when she sees me.

  I reach around to feel that my gun is secure and my jacket is covering it. I want to walk around the perimeter of the building and check for exit points before I make my way in. I don’t want her trying to get away.

  The place is big so it takes a few minutes before I’m around the back of the building. When I get there, I’m walking towards the exit door when it bangs open.

  Out stumbles my girl.

  She’s got on this scrap of a dress and those fuck-me heels she won’t stop wearing. I feel my cock get hard. She’s more beautiful than I remember. So much so, it almost hurts my eyes. She doesn’t notice me at first and I see her start to light a cigarette. What in the fuck? No.

  I stomp over to her. When I’m a couple of paces away she looks up just as she’s about to light it. Her steel-gray eyes go wide and her juicy lips make a perfect O. Her hand goes lax and the cigarette drops to the ground, forgotten. I take the lighter from her other hand and throw it down. I grab her by the arms and back her up against the wall.

  “Since when the fuck do you smoke?” I bark at her.

  “Carter!” she shouts. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?” Her eyes are still wide with panic and she starts to struggle. I guess her fight-or-flight finally kicked in.

  I can’t help but push closer to her. I close my eyes and lean down, nuzzling the space between her neck and shoulder.

  “Layla,” I breathe.

  After all these years, I’ve said her name. It comes out of my mouth like a prayer, a curse, and a promise all at once. I can finally touch her again and my heart may not make it through this moment. My puzzle piece just locked with hers and I’m complete.

  “Carter. Oh God. What are you…oh God!” She leans into me but I can still feel her need to fight it. Her mind and body aren’t agreeing on anything at the moment. I nuzzle her neck and breathe in her scent, and she doesn’t know whether to be pissed or turned on.

  “Layla, baby, I need you to be still. Stop fighting me.” I lick her shoulder and continue all the way up her neck to her ear. When I get there, I gently bite her lobe and whisper, “Turn around, Cherry. I need to get off.”

  Layla immediately starts fighting harder. She fucking hated it when I called her that. I smile to myself. I love when she's feisty. She always liked when I would get her riled up. She would stomp her foot and throw a fit, but I would always catch her smiling. I knew how much she loved me bossing her around.

  “Fuck you, Carter. You can’t just
show up and then expect me to fall all over you. Get off me!” She struggles against me, but I’m three times her size. I squeeze her arms and twist her around, making her face the brick wall. I push her up against it and she lets out a little moan.

  “Oh Cherry, you remember how much you liked it when I told you what to do. And watch the language, baby. You’re my sweet Cherry, and I don’t like hearing that shit come out of your pretty mouth.”

  She tries with all her strength to push me off her. “Damn it, Carter, I hated your bossy ass! Let me go!”

  “That’s it, baby. Get loud. Let everybody hear how much you like it.” I lean my big body against hers and run my hands roughly down her sides. “You’re gonna let me do this, Cherry. I need this and you fucking owe me. Coming in that goddamn prison looking like an innocent virgin begging to get fucked. You know how many fights I got into after you walked out? How many men wouldn’t shut up about you and that sweet-smelling pussy you got? Now hold still. For as long as I’ve been jerking off imagining this moment, I’m sure I won’t take long.”

  I put my forearm against her shoulder blades to hold her still while my other hand goes to the bottom of her dress. I pull it up and see her tiny panties barely covering anything. I run my hand across her luscious ass and squeeze both cheeks hard. “You walked in there waving this juicy treat in front of everyone, knowing it belonged to me, didn’t you?”

  “Carter,” she moans and pushes her ass into my hand. I slip my hand under her panties and push just my index finger inside her. She so tight it’s hard to work it in and out. She sighs heavily and starts to move her hips in time with my movements.

  “It’s okay if you like it, Cherry. I know I will.” I take my finger out and draw it into my mouth. I want the taste of her pussy on my tongue for what I’m about to do.

  I reach down again, but this time I undo my pants and free my cock. It’s hard, thick, and leaking pre-cum everywhere. She feels it when my cock touches her ass cheek and she starts to struggle again. “Be still,” I say and hold her down a little tighter. I reach back in her panties and coat my fingers in her honey, using it to lube up my cock.

  “You’re so fucking soaked for me, aren’t you, Cherry? You like the struggle, don’t you?”

  She moans and moves her hips again and I know she’s torn between hating this and loving it. “You remember how mad you used to get when I made you do something, right, baby? You remember that time I forced you to change out of that white bikini because I could see your nipples through it? You were so mad at me, Cherry. Do you remember you stamped upstairs and fingered yourself until you came?” She starts to deny it but I cut her off. “Say what you want, baby, but I stood outside that door. I know exactly how much you hate my bossy ass.” Her moan is all the answer I need.

  I stroke my cock against her ass and my pre-cum leaves trails on her peachy skin. “It’s okay, pretty girl, you don’t have to answer. I can smell your pussy. I know you want it. I’ve got you on my tongue too.” I lean down and kiss the side of her face softly as I keep jerking my cock off against her ass.

  “Oh God, Carter. What are you doing?” Her eyes are closed and I feel her body trembling. She’s right on the edge, between fear and arousal. Perfect.

  “I’m marking what’s mine,” I growl, and jerk my cock off fast and hard. “It may be between your legs but it belongs to me.” She must like my words because she starts rubbing her ass against my cock. I know she’s just as hot as I am for this.

  “Take me, Carter. Fuck me. Please.” She’s begging now and I love the sound of it.

  “Not yet, Cherry. You’ll get it when I give it to you. But for now, you’ll take this.” I pull her panties to the side and she sticks her ass back, exposing her pussy to me. I nudge the tip of my cock right up against her wet warmth, and I cum. My need to claim is so powerful, I pull back and rub my cock against her sweet pink asshole, branding it with my hot seed. While I’m still going off, I move my cock and smear it all over her pussy lips and clit.

  I feel her hips jerk and she cums, screaming my name. All it took was that one little swipe? Holy fuck, I had no idea she would go off so quick. The sound of my name on her lips while she comes is like a jolt to my system, and my cock is fully hard again.

  She’s completely covered in my cum and I’ve never felt more drained. That orgasm hit me like a truck. Masturbating on her was the hardest I have ever cum in my life. I don’t care if I haven’t been with a woman in years; I had a feeling that with her, it would always be like this. I always knew that, even if I had her moments ago, I would want her seconds later.

  I reach down and gently move her panties so that none of my cum is lost. She’s still coated in me and I want it to stay that way. Once her panties are in place, I gently pat her there, as if to say “good job”. I step back and put my still rock-hard cock back in my jeans. Immediately, she spins around and glares at me, but before she can speak I softly grab her by the jaw and look directly into her eyes.

  “We’re going inside to say goodbye to your friend. You’re going to get your shit, and then we’re out of here.”

  I know I’m being harsh but I’ve been away from her for too long and I need to be alone with her as quickly as possible. I’m trying to rein myself in, but the hard edge of prison can’t be blunted so easily.

  “But,” she starts to say but I interrupt. “Now.”

  I reach down and pull her dress back in place. I think about making her wear my leather jacket because I hate the idea of her walking around in that dress. It looks like it was made just to fucking piss me off, but I know if I take my jacket off, my gun will be visible.

  I lean down and give her a quick kiss on the nose, and she looks at me with a mix of anger and shock. I turn her towards the door and lay a loud smack on her ass. She lets out a loud yelp and glares over her shoulder at me.

  “Move it, Cherry.”

  Chapter Three

  Layla

  Carter’s here. Not only that, I just begged him to fuck me.

  In my fantasies I always beg him. In fact, the more I grew to hate him over the years because of his rejection, the rougher my fantasies became. It was like my mind, body and heart were always at war. To reconcile myself with these thoughts, I would just think about him taking what he wanted. I could fight him and act like I didn’t want him, but I did. I think it’s part of what I’ve always wanted, why I was drawn to him to begin with. He has this dark edge that I seem to crave. I want him to take it out on my body, because only I can soothe it. I want to take away his darkness and give him some of my light.

  What the hell is wrong with me? It took my intoxicated mind a beat to realize it was him. At first I thought I was seeing things, but there was no way what just happened wasn’t real. I can still feel his warm cum sliding down my thighs. I thought he was big the last time I saw him, now he looks like a freaking mountain. A terrifying, treacherous mountain.

  My mind is racing with a thousand questions, but my body is dying for another release. God, as shameful as it is to think it, I just wish he would have taken me out there—turned me around, put his hand over my mouth and just drove in. I came for him with just a little touch, even though I was fighting it. Now he knows what I really like and that terrifies me. He might just take what he wants from me, and as much as it scares me, a voice in the back of my head wants it too.

  I have to remind myself that the last time I saw Carter he wanted nothing to do with me so maybe this is part of his game. I still can’t remember what happened that night eight years ago, but one thing I know for sure is that Carter went away for manslaughter. He had killed one of my dad’s lackeys. Maybe he blames me and he’s here for revenge. Men like Carter don’t leave anything unfinished. If they think they’re owed their pound of flesh, they're going to collect. Over the years Carter worked for my father, I could see this dark edge and the fear he instilled in people. He wasn’t a man to be messed with. I often wondered if my father kept him around because of how good he was a
t his job or because he feared getting on the wrong side of him.

  Carter never looked at me before like he did tonight. His eyes would always go soft when he looked at me, but I haven’t gotten those eyes in a long time.

  Pulling my dress down farther and hoping I’m covering up as much of my cum-soaked thighs as possible, I look for a way out. I need to get away for a minute and process what’s happening. Why is Carter here and what does he want from me? Did my father send him? Whenever I think of my father, a jolt of fear shoots through me and I’m not even sure why.

  At that thought, I stumble.

  Grabbing my waist, Carter pulls me to his chest to straighten me before I fall. “You and those fucking shoes, Cherry,” he murmurs in my ear.

  I spin around and poke him in the chest. Damn, he’s huge. Even in my heels I only come up to his pecs. So much for never having to look up to a man again. “What’s wrong with my shoes?” I snap. Seriously? I’m fighting with him about my shoes? “And stop calling me Cherry!” I finish. Oh my God, I’m losing my mind. I need to focus. I need to get the hell out of here.

  Carter gives me a half smile, like my yelling at him is adorable or something. Glaring at him, I lift my “fucking shoe” and stomp it into his foot. Leaning his head back, he lets out a laugh that reminds me of when I was younger and I would try to get his attention. For a moment I’m lost in the Carter that I fell in love with when I was sixteen. I didn’t care that he was ten years older than me. I used to love trying to find ways to make him laugh. I never saw him give that laugh to others, but I could get it. I thought that one day I would make him fall in love with me. That dream died when I went to the prison to see him, and he acted like I was nothing.