Bronx Page 11
We helped my parents out to their car. Another round of hugs and laughter followed, then they drove off down the long dirt road in front of the ranch.
The dogs followed us back into the house. Layla gave each one a treat. They settled on their pillows, happy to gnaw away on their goodies.
"Good, now I'll be a favorite visitor," Layla said. "I've found the best way to a dog's heart is through his stomach. Same for men," she noted.
I raised a brow as I picked up our duffle bags. "Really? The best way? I think stomach is number two. Not the best way. Now, follow me upstairs, and I will face the humiliation of you seeing my room. My mom hasn't changed a thing about it."
She followed me up the stairs. "It can't be as humiliating as my house. My NSYNC posters are still up over my bed, and for awhile, I was into Hello Kitty so there's that little source of embarrassment plastered everywhere."
We reached my room. Layla stopped to admire the view downstairs from the upstairs landing. "This house is amazing. It's one of those ones you see in a farm painting. It must have been so much fun growing up here."
"Coming from the tiny two bedroom rental we had in Westridge, with its leaky ceilings and splintery floors, this place was like a castle." I pushed open my bedroom door. It always felt a little weird but also nostalgic walking into my room. "At least the Pokémon comforter has been replaced by tartan plaid."
Layla stood in the middle of my room. For a kids bedroom it had always been good-sized, especially with the twin bed taking up only a small amount of space. My desk, where I used to pretend to do homework but mostly played video games, was still sitting next to the window.
"From that desk, I could see the riding arena where Vick always worked the horses. It also told me when he was coming in for the night, my cue to shut down video games and open books."
Layla walked to the window and gazed out. The sun streaming in bathed her in a glow that highlighted her hair and skin. "I can almost picture Vick out there riding a horse. And the view goes all the way across the pastures. Autumn is beautiful out here. So many trees showing off their fall colors." She strolled over to the shelves with all my rodeo trophies. "Oh my gosh, you really were quite the cowboy." Her smile fell my direction. I sucked in a breath just to slow my heartbeat. "I'll bet the girls went crazy over Bronx Devlin in his cowboy hat and boots."
I shrugged. "I wasn't short on dates, I guess. My mom made up the guest room for us. It's got a real bed, and my plastic car and train models won't be hanging overhead." I pointed to the higher up shelves that held the plastic models I used to make.
Layla hopped up on toes to see the models. "These are good." She spun around. "It's too bad about the guest room." She started unbuttoning her flannel shirt. "Cuz this room is making me kinda hot." The soft flannel shirt slipped off her bronze shoulders revealing a lacy black bra beneath.
I stood stock-still, my pulse pounding as I watched her kick off her shoes. "Guess you can't do that in a pair of cowboy boots." She slid the jeans down her slim hips. A matching pair of black lace panties appeared. She stepped out of the jeans and sighed.
"What should we do next?" she asked.
I closed the gap between us in two steps. She threw her arms around my neck. I swept my hands under her ass and lifted her for a kiss. Her legs wrapped around my waist. I didn't turn toward the bed but, instead, carried her straight to the only empty section of wall. She gasped against my mouth as her bare back pressed against the cold plaster. She lowered her legs and arms and pushed up the bottom of my shirt.
"Off please," she said breathless. "All of it."
I yanked my shirt off as she unbuttoned my jeans. My cock sprang free as I pushed them down. My mouth pressed against her shoulder. I nudged a bra strap down with my mouth to expose her breast. I stared down at the nipple between my thumb and forefinger.
"Perfection, head to toe perfection," I muttered hoarsely. The lace panties dropped easily to her ankles. She pulled one foot free, then the other. A teasing twinkle in her eye sent a new surge of heat through me.
She dropped to her knees in front of me. I wrapped my fingers in her hair as she took hold of the base of my cock. Her tongue swirled through the moisture on the tip of my cock, coaxing even more liquid free. She stroked me with her small hand and slid her mouth over me. "Fuck yeah, baby," the words came free on a groan. Her lips tightened around my shaft as I held her head against me. "I need you now, this fucking minute."
She released me, and I pulled her to her feet. I grabbed her ass with both hands, lifting her to brace her against the wall. She cried out as I pushed into her. My fingers impaled her ass as I slammed against her over and over, making the walls on the bedroom shake so hard, one of the models fell off the shelf. A small laugh spurted from her mouth, then she wrapped her legs around me tighter to take in more of me. She rubbed her pussy against me, working up hot wet friction between our bodies.
"Oh Jack, yes, please, deeper," she pleaded.
I pumped into her again and again until her pussy clenched around me, coming in hot, shuddering waves. My cock exploded and I spilled my seed inside of her. Our bodies were sticky and wet and the room was cool from the autumn temperatures outside. Layla shivered.
I stayed tight inside of her as I carried her to the bed. The small, old bed creaked underneath both our weights.
"Uh oh, did we break it?" Layla laughed.
"No, it's just not used to having two people on board." I pulled the quilt at the end of the bed up over us. We had no choice except to stay sandwiched tightly together. "You know this tiny bed might not be too bad," I said and held her even closer. I brushed my fingers along her side and her hip and thigh. "I think when I was a teenager, I dreamt about having someone just like you nestled next to me on this bed."
"Oh really. She looked just like me?" she asked dryly.
"Well, no, she looked just like Selena Gomez but then I hadn't met you yet. Now I'd just have to tell Selena her spot is taken."
Layla wriggled closer. "Damn right." She peered up at me. "I would stay the rest of the day pressed tightly against you, but I'm dying to see the horses. Could we pick this up again later? Like right here from this position?"
I pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. "I think we could arrange that."
22
Once again, I was in the middle of one of those perfect moments in time, a moment that was going to be etched clear as day in my mind until they buried me. And once again, Layla was in the moment, a prominent part of it, in fact. Archer, one of Vick's best horses, loped smoothly around the arena. As always it was fucking awesome being back in the saddle. Riding a horse gave you wings. It connected you with the animal and nature and everything that was right with the world. And the woman standing at the side of the arena, her arms resting on the top rail of the fence, her dark gold hair blowing lightly in the wind and her smile lighting up the entire ranch was everything that was right in my world.
I slowed Archer to a trot and took him around a few more times. He hadn't been ridden for a week, so he was full of energy. The goal was to tire the spunk out of him, so Layla could sit in the saddle. Her experience on horses was limited to a few pony rides at the fair.
"Is he ready?" she asked hopefully.
I slowed him to a walk. "Yep, I think he's good to go." I dismounted and motioned for her to come into the arena. She climbed over the fence and hopped down into the soft sand. She stopped first to have a talk with Archer.
She patted his forehead and neck. The horse snorted appreciatively in return. "I promise not to be clumsy or kick you if you promise not to throw me into the air. And I apologize for the extra weight. We had a big breakfast at Moonpie's Diner."
"Not sure if a plate of eggs and one pancake is going to break his back. Vick was two fifty at his top weight, and Archer could carry him over that pasture out there like he was a winged horse. He's also a big horse, so I better give you a leg up. Hold the reins and grab the pommel. Foot here." I crossed my fingers and
made a step. "Just don't pull yourself too hard, or you might just go over the saddle and land on the other side."
"I could actually see myself doing that." She chuckled as she pulled herself gracefully into the saddle. She smiled down at me. "What next, my personal, dreamy riding instructor?"
"Hmm, kind of like that title." I pushed her feet into the stirrups and showed her how to hold the reins. "Remember to keep your heels down and this adorable ass leaning back in the saddle. Sit on your pockets is what Vick used to say to me when he was teaching me to ride."
She smiled down at me. "Giddy up or tally ho or whatever they say in the horse world."
"We usually just cluck our tongues."
"Really? Well, that's sort of anticlimactic." She clucked her tongue, and Archer took a plodding step forward. I stood in the center as Archer walked slowly around the arena. He was one of those awesome horses that seemed to know when the person riding wasn't exactly solid in the saddle. It was why I chose Archer for the lesson.
"How do I look?" she called. "I still think I should have worn my cowboy hat out here."
"It's good for the sun, but the last thing you want is to be fussing with a wide brimmed hat when you're just learning to ride. How are you feeling up there cuz I've got to tell you, you look hot as hell." I pulled out my phone and took a picture. As I put my phone back into my pocket, it dawned on me that I wouldn't be able to share the photo with anyone.
"Can we go a little faster?" she asked. "Any slower and I think we'll be going backwards."
"Archer senses you're a little off balance."
"Does he? What a good boy." She leaned down to pat his neck and slipped a little farther to the side.
"Whoa there, Annie Oakley, get that cute butt centered again, and remember, sit on your pockets. Heels down. Then maybe we can pick up to a trot."
Layla wriggled her bottom, readjusted and sat back. "Better?" she asked.
"Yes. Ready?"
"Yup. Go ahead, Archer. You can trot."
I chuckled. "He's smart but he might need a few cues. Cluck your tongue again and squeeze your legs against him."
I added in my own tongue cluck, and Archer picked up to a heavy-footed trot. Layla laughed, nervously, at first, then she seemed to get the hang of it.
"This is more bouncy than fast," she noted, correctly.
"Yes, the lope is the faster gait and it's smoother, but you're not ready for that."
"Darn. I pictured myself galloping along, hair flying back and the wind in my face." Her talking caused her to start leaning. Archer instinctively slowed to a walk. "Oops, did I do that?" she asked.
"Like I said, he picks up cues. If he thinks his rider is off balance, he slows down."
She wriggled in the saddle again, and unexpectedly, or maybe predictably, it sent a rush of heat to my cock.
Archer circled around a few more times.
"I think he's tired," Layla said. "Should I climb down?"
"He's not tired. He's just thinking about his lunch. Me too. Are you hungry? There's a nice pond on the far side of the property. We could take a picnic."
"That sounds wonderful." Layla couldn't help but give Archer another pat on the neck. "How do I turn him off?"
I laughed. "Just say whoa and sit back."
"So whoa is a thing but not giddy up or tally ho? Whoa, big guy." Archer came to a stop and waited patiently like a gentleman for her to climb down.
I cleverly managed to be in the right spot when she dismounted and her legs wobbled. I wrapped my arms around her and held her close.
She peered up at me with shiny brown eyes. "Why do my legs feel like wet noodles?"
"It's like you've been stretching them for twenty straight minutes. It's sort of usual for inexperienced riders."
"I see and you seem to know exactly where to stand to catch me. I'm going to guess that I'm not the first girl you put on a horse and then conveniently caught afterwards."
"No, but you're definitely my favorite." I hugged her closer and felt her nearness through my entire body. She was like an ignition switch for every muscle. "I'm thinking we might take a nice big blanket to the picnic. I know a shady little spot that is entirely secluded."
She rubbed her fingers along the dark stubble growing on my chin. "I'm liking this picnic idea more and more."
23
The afternoon sun, while low in the sky with the change of seasons, still provided a nice layer of warmth over the grassy knoll adjacent to the pond. The crude tree swing, a long rope with two big knots, still hung off the massive branch of the sycamore growing from the bank of the pond. Each year, the nature fed pond shrank. Drought was drying up much of the west. There just never seemed to be an end to it.
Layla stood at the edge of the pond and stared out at the view. Several layers of small grassy hills framed the landscape around the ranch, but for the most part, the land was flat. On a clear day like today you could see all the way to the tops of houses in the nearby town.
"I'm so envious of your life here." Layla turned around. The day out with the horses had turned her skin a glowing bronze color. "We lived in a regular old house with two cranky neighbors on each side of us and a family with barking dogs behind us."
She sat down on the large blanket I'd laid out. I dug into my mom's picnic basket for the sandwiches we made. "Here you go, your ham and cheese hold the ham sandwich. I still say that means it's just a cheese sandwich, but then I'm no sandwich naming expert."
Layla took hold of her sandwich. "It's a running joke I used to have with my dad. He knew I hated sandwich meat, so he'd say, hey kid, gonna make you a ham and cheese hold the ham."
"I don't know much about your childhood, other than the part about you marrying your high school sweetheart." I handed her the iced tea she'd chosen from the elaborate array of cold drinks my mom had provided. She had stocked the refrigerator full enough for us to stay a month, a habit she'd gotten into whenever Kingston was staying the weekend.
Layla popped open the tea and took a few sips. The movement of her throat with each swallow had me temporarily mesmerized. Everything about her had me utterly captivated.
She blotted her mouth with her napkin. "Not too much to tell. My dad was a lumber supplier. Adam's dad was a contractor. That's how they became friends." She tilted her head side to side. "It's also how they stopped being friends. The price of lumber was going up and Adam's dad accused my dad of price gouging. Needless to say, both the business and social friendships ended. Which made our marriage a little awkward, feuding in-laws are never good for a relationship." She gazed off to the distance. It seemed she had found herself thinking about Bulldozer. "We used to fight about it until we both made a pact to not take sides. Our parents' business was their own. But holidays and birthdays had to be split up evenly."
"That must have sucked." I was somewhat regretting asking the question. It was always awkward when Bulldozer came up in the conversation, but maybe it was better that she felt she could talk about him in front of me.
"Anyhow, back to my childhood, pre-Rafferty," she said. "Like you, I had one sibling. Tina was six years older than me, and I thought the ground she walked on glowed. She, on the other hand, considered me the pesky little sister who would occasionally sneak in and try on her makeup." Layla raised her hand. "Guilty as charged. Anyhow, Tina was, and still is, gorgeous. She was popular and head cheerleader and prom queen, the whole shebang. Naturally, I was convinced that I too had to be all those things. My parents treated Tina as if she was this precious jewel dropped from the heavens. She could do no wrong. Almost all their energy went into making sure she had everything and had every opportunity to reach her fullest potential. Imagine their disappointment when she left college, Yale, no less, in her sophomore year to travel the country in a Volkswagen bus with, of all people, her psych professor. Back then, Everett was quite the cerebral hippie, wanting to explore the world to find out the true meaning of life. They live in New York now. He's back teaching and my sister is rais
ing twin boys, Zach and Dylan. I stayed with them for a few months when I moved back east. My sister and I are much closer now that we're both adults. Although, she still won't allow me into her makeup case."
"And you turned to nursing because . . ."
"Because I had this really cool aunt, my mom's younger sister. Colleen. She was a nurse, and I have always thought she was amazing so the rest was easy. I haven't regretted it. Although, some days are harder than others." She picked up her sandwich. "So there you have it. Layla's life in a nutshell. Sort of. I left out the time I accidentally set the kitchen on fire with a dishtowel left on the stove, but from that point on, things were pretty normal and boring."
"Nothing boring about Layla Rafferty," I noted. We nibbled sandwiches for a few minutes and enjoyed the scenery. A squirrel had decided we weren't dangerous and climbed out of a tree to wiggle its nose back and forth in the picnic aromas. Several mourning doves made the same choice.
Layla noticed the arrival of our new friends. "Seems the longer we sit here, the more they trust us. Soon that little squirrel is going to venture onto this blanket and peer into the picnic basket."
"They're fairly daring when it comes to food."
Layla covered her mouth to suppress a yawn. "You know what I miss about not being a kid?" she said.
"What's that?"
"Not having anyone tell me to take a nap. Sometimes, during a long ten hour shift, when things have been crazy on the ward, all I can think about is taking a nap. This seems like a perfect place for one of those naps I fantasize about."
I glanced around. "You know what? I think you're right. And you know what makes a really nice precursor to a nap?"
"Hmm, can't think what you mean." Layla wrapped up her sandwich. I did the same. She crawled over to me on hands and knees, a position that made me instantly hard as a rock. Her face came right up to mine, and she kissed me lightly on the mouth. "Maybe you should show me this precursor."