She took him in her mouth, running her tongue around his thick knob at the end, before she started to stroke him again, this time with her mouth.
He breathed in a sharp intake of air. “Layla,” he said. “You drive me crazy.”
Layla was no porn star, but she was acting like one at the moment. He tasted so good, like mint and musk, and something so undeniably male. It sent her pheromones racing, and she sucked and licked him until he came with a grunt inside her mouth at which point she swallowed every last drop of his salty release.
But afterwards, she couldn’t help but notice, “You’re still hard.”
He ran a hand over her hair. “Yes, sometimes that happens.” He looked her in the eyes. “With you.”
She reached for the drawer where she knew he kept the condoms and pulled out one foil package, which she ripped open before slipping the rubber over him with quick and efficient movements.
He nodded his head at her. “You’re good at that.”
“Back in Dallas, I used to volunteer with a program that taught sex education to young adults. You wouldn’t believe how many cucumbers I’ve practiced on.”
Amusement lit his gaze, “So this is your final exam then?”
She shimmied out of her dress and panties, leaving them in a pool on the floor. “Exactly. Wait until you see what I have planned for the big essay question.”
Without further ado, she climbed into his lap and straddled him. She took his sheathed member in her hand and guided it into her hot, slick tunnel, loving the feel of him as he stretched her, inch by inch, until she had worked her way to his balls.
“Let me know my grade when we’re done,” she whispered. Then she began moving on top of him.
He grasped her hips, keeping her rhythm steady, as the fire started building up again inside of both of them. “I can already tell you it’s an A-plus.”
***
“We can’t hide in here forever,” Layla said to him two days later. The sun had risen and set, but they were still in bed, having succumbed to an afternoon nap after an impromptu bout of sex after lunch.
“We’re not hiding,” Nathan said, his eyes still closed, though he was obviously awake now. “We’re taking a nap.”
Layla hesitated, but decided to go over to Nathan’s side of the bed anyway and snuggle her head into his shoulder. So far she hadn’t tried this with him. Nathan didn’t exactly scream “likes to snuggle.” But he surprised her by wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in closer to the warmth of his body, as if he had been waiting for her to come to him all along.
“Go back to sleep,” he murmured against her forehead.
“I can’t. I’m hungry for something other than cold cuts.”
“We’ll order takeout tonight.”
“And I should go check on my apartment. It’s been forty-eight hours.”
“Kate stopped by this morning, and she said the door’s been fixed.”
She laid a hand on his chest. “Could you please stop asking your assistant to do things that are way outside of her job description for me?”
“Her job description is doing whatever I want her to do.”
“Yeah, but I’m sure she didn’t go to college to do things like calling in sick for me three days in a row, bringing me new clothes everyday that I don’t even get to really use, because you’re so frisky, and now checking on my apartment.”
“I tell you what,” he said. “If you lie here quietly, I’ll give you her address and you can send her a thank you card.”
Which reminded her, she still needed to get his brother’s contact information. She had tried calling him at Sinclair Industries when Nathan had been in the shower the day before, but had been told he was taking a sabbatical until early September, which meant she’d need to visit him at his home. Wherever his home was.
She had tried accessing his brother’s information on Nathan’s laptop, but had found it set on a lock screen when she opened it. And when she had asked to use his computer to check her email, he’d logged her onto a blank guest screen that didn’t provide any link to his contact list.
She had hopes for getting the information off of Nathan’s smartphone, but he took the dang thing with him everywhere, even into the bathroom. No, she had to leave Nathan’s loft and do some deeper research if she wanted to find his brother before her time in Pittsburgh ran out.
“I can’t keep calling in sick,” she said. “Also, I should start getting ready to leave.”
“You don’t need two months for that.”
“Sure I do,” she said. “I’ve got to hand in my notice at work.”
“It’s called ‘two weeks notice’ not two months.”
“Maybe in corporate America, but I want to give them as much time as possible to find a replacement for me. Also, I need to tell my landlord I’m leaving, break my lease, and figure out where I’m moving to.”
He stiffened. “Okay, you can leave in the morning. Let’s talk about something else.”
Layla shifted in his arms. “Nathan?”
“Hmm?”
“Why did you make me sign that contract if you don’t want me to leave?”
“It’s not about what I want,” he answered. “It’s about what I need. I need you gone.”
“Why?” she asked. “Because of what I did? Whatever that was?”
“Because of what will happen if you stay.”
“What will happen if I stay?”
He turned to face her then, his grey eyes so icy, her first instinct was to shrink away. But as if sensing her inclination, he cupped a hand around the back of her neck, keeping her there. “We’re not going to find out,” he said, his voice harder than steel.
Then he let her go, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and picked up his smartphone. “What do you want Kate to order for us? Indian or Italian?”
“Indian, please,” she answered, trying to keep her voice light.
But inside she felt her resolve becoming just as hard as his voice had been a few moments ago. She might be leaving town in two months, but before she did, she would find Andrew Sinclair.
And she would get her answers.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LAYLA soon discovered that finding out where a rich person lived was a lot more involved than doing a simple web search. She spent a week scouring the internet during her lunch hours, before she gave up and decided to hire a private detective to investigate.