Taking the Fall Read online

  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.”

  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 at 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.

  Pulling me in close I can feel the hard ridge of his cock press into me.

  “Glad to see you got that fire still in you, Cherry. I can’t wait to try to tame it. Now tell your friend goodbye. We’re leaving.” Grabbing a fistful of my hair, he tilts my head back farther and puts his mouth on my neck and sucks hard. He then licks up to my ear and makes my desire shoot through the roof again. How can this man make me feel this crazy with need when no other can?

  “You try anything, Layla, and I’ll have your ass. Eight years I’ve waited for this day and I’m done waiting.”

  My whole body goes rigid at his words, and I swear the buzz I had from the alcohol has left my body completely. It’s like a gallon of ice water thrown on me. “Eight years I’ve waited for this day,” plays over and over in my mind. I’m not a naïve girl. I know what my father and his men did to people who wronged or crossed them. It seemed like revenge was the reason Carter was here. For all I know, I deserved it.

  I look around but don’t see Jeanette anywhere and it gives me an idea.

  “Hmm…I don’t see Jeanette. She’s probably in the bathroom,” I say and make my way to the back of the bar towards the restrooms. I feel him right behind me. A tall, slender man who looks about my age goes to grab my arm, and before I have a chance to brush him off, Carter has him by the throat.

  “Don’t touch what’s mine,” he growls before throwing him like a rag doll, sending a table toppling in the process. Everything goes quiet and the people near us take about two steps back.

  “Anyone else touches her and I’ll break their fucking fingers,” he bellows across the bar. Grabbing me by the arm, pulling me close, he leads us towards the restrooms. I can’t imagine the looks he is giving everyone. I’m not sure what to do with the possessiveness I can feel pulsing from him, or what it means. It’s scary as hell but exhilarating too.

  When we get to the bathroom, he takes my mouth in a hard kiss that stops before it really starts.

  “Be quick, Cherry. I’m already on edge,” he says, licking his lips like he can’t get enough of my taste.

  I discreetly lick my own lips to try to get a taste of him too. I nod my answer before making my way to the bathroom. There is only one stall, a sink, and a window that sits low to the ground. I know it might be my only opportunity to get away from Carter. I peer under the stall door to check if anyone’s in there. I see Jeanette’s shoes and a man on his knees with his cock in his hand stroking himself.

  “That’s it, Daddy. Show me how sorry you are for canceling on me. Eat that pussy good and maybe I’ll let you fuck it,” I hear Jeanette’s voice purr.

  “Daddy?” I whisper to myself. I let out a hysterical giggle at the whole situation. I have a man on the other side of the door who wants God knows what with me, and Jeanette in here calling some man ‘Daddy’ while he eats her out.

  “God, Mama, you taste so fucking good,” I hear the man say. “I bet you’ll taste even better once I cum in it. You’re going to let me cum all inside you, aren’t you? I bet this pussy is aching for a load of me.”

  “Jeanette!” I snap. I hate to kill her mood but I’ve got to get us on the same page right now. I can’t tell her about Carter because I don’t want to pull her into this mess. She’s the only solid person I’ve had in my life and I’d hate for her to get hurt just for being a wonderful friend to me.

  A few seconds later the bathroom stall opens and out walks the guy Jeanette had been eyeing at the library, the same guy she said stood her up last night.

  “Nice to see you again, Layla,” he says as he wipes his mouth with his hand and makes his way to the door.

  “I’ll see you at the bar, Mama. Don’t keep me waiting because I’ll be fucking that pussy tonight,” he warns before he leaves.

  “God, that man knows how to use his mouth. The name ‘Saint’ really fits him—I’m pretty sure I heard angels singing when he did this little trick with his teeth. I was working on my third orgasm before you busted in, you little cock block,” Jeanette grumbles. She tries to get her dress back under control. God, I love her. I can’t let my life rain down on hers.

  “Jeanette, I totally saw Justin out at the bar and I really don’t want to face him tonight.” The lie rolls effortlessly off my tongue.

  “I was hoping to take Saint home with me tonight but if you want to head out I’m down with that too. This is girls’ night anyways; we can do a sleep over my place…oh, and stop at Taco Bell,” she says.

  “No, no. I know you’re really into this Saint guy and I’m actually feeling tired. I was hoping to slip out the bathroom window so I don’t have to talk to Justin at all. He saw me come in here so I’m sure he’s just waiting for me to come out. I can’t deal with this tonight, especially since I’ve been drinking.”

  “You’re going to sneak out the window?” Jeanette asks, widening her eyes and looking at me like I’ve lost it.

  “Hey, you were getting it on in the bathroom stall so no judgment, okay?” I respond, hoping she’ll get on board. She can’t stand Justin so I’m sure she’s down with the idea of us going back out there and telling him to beat it.

  “Please, you owe me after dumping him with my phone,” I beg.

  “Fine, if you want to crawl your ass out the window, have at it. Text me when you get home. And text me the cabbie’s ID number too,” she says as she starts to fix her smeared lipstick.

  “Hmm…one more favor, Jeanette. Can you wait, like, five minutes before you leave the bathroom, just to be safe? Just to make sure he doesn’t try to run out front or anything,” I ask and give her a pleading look.

  “Lays, it’s freaking Justin. He’s not going to cause a scene,” she says exasperatedly and turns to look at me. Her face softens and I’m sure she can see my distress. Luckily she doesn’t know the real reason for it. “All right, I’ll stay in the bathroom.” I cross the tiny space and wrap her in a big hug, not knowing if this will be the last time I’ll see her. I’m not totally sure what I’m going to do once I get out of here. My options don’t seem that great.

  “I love you,” I whisper, squeezing her harder before she can pull away.

  “Oh Lays, I love you too. Text me, okay? Maybe breakfast in the morning?”

  “Okay.” It’s all I can say around the lump in my throat.