Slay - Page 55/75

This was the part of the plan they wouldn’t like.  “Ricky’s unpredictable, which is his strength.  Leroy taught us that.  He’ll likely come for you at the clubhouse, try and take as many of you out at once as he can.  Bring you to your knees that way.  So you’ll need to up your security there.  I can give you manpower, but the tricky thing will be trying to explain that to Marcus.”

“Okay, so we work that out, and then I’m assuming we’ll need to also take Ricky out at the same time as we deal with Marcus, yeah?”

“Yes,” I answered.

Scott raked his hand through his hair.  “Fuck, Blade, this is a fucking risky plan.”

I gave him a hard stare.  “Do you think I got where I am today without risk?  You can keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll likely still be pissing in the wind in a year’s time.  I know what I’d rather fucking do.”

Griff looked at Scott.  “He’s got a point.  I’m sick to fucking death of the way the club is now.”

“Okay, let’s do it,” Scott agreed.

“Thank fuck,” I muttered.

***

I walked into Layla’s bar with a ready-to-go hard-on just after four that afternoon.  Usually that was a quiet time for her, but it was just my fucking luck that wasn’t the case today.  Based on the number of customers vying for her attention, she’d be at least an hour away from taking care of my dick.  And that was as long as no new customers arrived.

Fuck.

She saw me and nodded her head towards my table, holding a glass up with a questioning look.

I nodded back to indicate I wanted a drink and took a seat at the table in the corner.  It was the table I’d occupied every time I visited her bar over the last year, so she referred to it as my table these days.

I watched as she, Sharon and Jess handled the customers.  It seemed Sharon was a good addition to the team, and Layla seemed happy with her.  My hope was still that Sharon would walk away from Marcus. Mind you, we’d be taking care of that problem for her soon enough.

Fifteen minutes later, Layla brought me a drink.  I admired her body as she walked towards me.  She knew I loved her in a skirt and she didn’t disappoint today.  The tiniest scrap of denim covered her ass, and her tits were barely encased in a tight singlet top.  When she placed my drink in front of me, I grabbed her wrist to stop her.

Heat flashed in her eyes as she looked down at me.  “Hey, baby,” she murmured as she placed her free hand on my cheek.

“That skirt doesn’t cover much,” I said.

I let her wrist go and moved my hand to her leg.  Her eyes widened when I ran my hand up her inner leg under her skirt.  She stepped closer to me, and when my fingers pushed her panties to the side, she sucked in a breath.

“Donovan,” she moaned, “I have to get back to work, baby.”

I ignored her and pushed a finger inside her pussy while I savoured the way she bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut while I did it.  My other hand moved to her ass so I could tilt her forward, closer to me.

“Layla!” Jess called from the bar.

Her eyes flew open, and she stepped away from me.  “Fuck,” she muttered.  “You’re turning me into a fucking hussy, Donovan Brookes.  Letting you finger me in fucking public.”

I stood and roughly pulled her to me.  “Baby, if I wanted to fuck you in public, there’d be nothing you could do to stop me,” I growled before I crushed my lips to hers in a rough kiss.

Her lips were swollen by the time I was finished with her, and she had that glazed look in her eyes that told me she was mine.

Mine.

I let her go, turned her around, and smacked her on the ass as I rasped in her ear, “Hurry those customers along.  I’ve got a dick as hard as fucking steel that needs taking care of.”

She returned to her customers, and I downed the scotch she’d given me.  As I did so, I recalled Merrick’s words from earlier.  I didn’t give a fuck how hung up on Layla I was, this was the fucking happiest I’d been in years.

Chapter Twenty-One

Layla

“Oh...god...” I moaned as I rode Donovan’s cock.  I’d waited all night for this, and he didn’t disappoint.

“Baby, you gonna cut to the chase soon?”  He sat on the bed cross-legged while I sat in his lap.  It had to be one of my favourite positions.  His impatient tone, though, was not a favourite of mine.

I opened my eyes and glared at him.  “What the hell?”

He smirked.  “You’ve been teasing the fuck out of me all night.  I just want you to screw me and put me out of my misery.”

“I am fucking screwing you.”

His eyes flared with desire.  “You need to hurry the fuck up because I’ve been aching to get my mouth on your pussy all day.”

Shit, my pussy loved his dirty talk.  “Well, why didn’t you do that first?”

He moved his face closer to mine and growled, “Because you were dead-set on taking charge tonight and I didn’t want to ruin your party.”

I grinned at him as I squeezed his dick with my pussy.  “You’re such a thoughtful man, aren’t you?”

“Too fucking thoughtful sometimes,” he muttered.

I ran my fingernails down his back and enjoyed the hiss that came from his mouth and the way his hands gripped my ass harder.  “Okay, baby, let’s pick the pace up,” I whispered in his ear.