Chapter Fourteen

Eamon

I fell asleep with Layla’s curves pressed up against me, her blonde hair draped over my face and my chest, and one leg thrown over mine. It was a rare occasion that I fell asleep with a woman, because I didn’t trust anyone outside of my family to watch out for me. And sleeping was when I was most vulnerable.

After dinner was interrupted, with more orgasms for me and three for her, we’d both collapsed and passed out. Waking up with a soft, warm woman beside me was a novelty and I let myself enjoy it for the moment, because it wasn’t something I planned to repeat. Ever.

I had to remind myself of that when I turned to face Layla. Her face was so calm and serene in sleep, but even then, I could see the dark circles under her eyes, proof that she wasn’t as unaffected as she appeared.

I should have been goddamn grateful that she wasn’t making a big production out of her worry or fear for her old man. Hell, I should have been jumping up and down that she’d agreed so easily to my demands and that she took so much fucking pleasure from it. She even seemed to forget the real reason we were together. But when she snuggled closer, it did something to me.

Made me forget about the fucking Milanos who were trying to hone in on Connelly territory and businesses. That was dangerous. Too fucking dangerous. It was why Shae, Rourke and I had always steered clear of anything resembling a relationship with a woman. Hell, with anyone who wasn’t family. I’d learned long ago only to trust family; they were the ones who’d have my back when the shit hit the fan. And in our world, the shit always hit the fan.

Which meant none of us had the luxury of being able to relax with a woman. To just fucking be with a woman.

No, we all knew the deal and we lost ourselves in a sea of nameless, faceless women who fit into the lifestyle we’d chosen. Despite what Layla thought about the organization, Patrick had given us each a choice. Join the family business and one day we’d be at the top, running shit the way we’d seen him do since we were kids, or go to college and attempt to have a normal life and do the bidding of some asshole.

Normal, now, that was a joke. There was no fucking way in hell that we’d ever be comfortable with normal, not with the shit we’d seen.

Layla stirred beside me and I braced myself for her to wake up, to ruin this peaceful moment with mindless chatter women seemed so fond of. But she didn’t. Her eyes opened, and her lush mouth curved into a smile, one hand drifting lazily across my chest. Then with a soft moan, her eyes closed and her head lolled on my chest as her hand rested so close to my cock, I was tempted to turn over and slide right into her. Waking her up properly.

“You’re doing a lot of thinking for the middle of the night,” she purred against my chest.

“Just thinking.” About too many damn things to be able to go back to sleep.

Layla’s hand stopped the gentle, dizzying stroke of her fingers and she looked up at me. “Do you want me to go?”

I was half tempted to say yes just to see how she would respond. So far Layla had acted exactly the opposite of what I’d expected, which had my thoughts all twisted up. The fact that I wanted her to stay was a red flag that she needed to get the fuck out, but the second she began to move away from me, to remove herself from my arms, I tightened my hold on her.

“You’re not going anywhere yet.” Yet being the operative word. I didn’t keep women around and, in that regard, Layla would be no different.

“Sounds good,” she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep as she turned over and pressed her back against my chest. I didn’t need any encouragement to turn around and fit my body against hers, one hand full of a soft, plump tit with a semi-hard nipple pressed against my palm. The other hand rested low on her hip, my cock cradled into the warmth of her ass cheeks and my face full of the peach scent of her hair.

Before I could remind myself that this was an anomaly, something that could not or would not happen again, I found my body growing heavy as it was pulled under by exhaustion and satisfaction. And sleep.

Sweet, blessed sleep.