9. Drew

Chapter nine

Drew

I t’s been five days since Layla essentially kicked me out of her office and a week since Sean’s “death.” Layla has spent about a third of the time half-drunk. Another third locked in her office, not letting anyone in. The rest of the time, she’s spent stuffed with cock. The only reason I wasn’t going completely insane with worry is that every time she gets her emotions fucked out of her, the guys can get some food in her.

I left my office to talk to Colt and saw Tyler coming toward me, buckling his belt.

“I can’t believe you’re not on my side,” I huffed.

“It isn’t about sides, Drew,” Tyler sighed, giving me a sympathetic look. “Those basic needs you’ve been so worried about are being met. She’s eating multiple times a day. Drinking more than just whiskey. You need to ease up, brother.”

“But using sex to override her emotions instead of dealing with them isn’t a healthy coping mechanism,” I argued.

“So what?” Tyler looked around to make sure we were alone before lowering his voice. “We can’t say no to her. Not when we know she’s suffering for no reason.”

“I was just on my way to talk to Colton about that. We should just tell her. Waiting for her to reach the end of her downward spiral is fucking stupid.”

“Good luck,” Tyler scoffed. “Zach and I have been trying to convince him of that, but he isn’t budging.”

“We’ll see about that,” I growled.

I stomped to Colt’s office and banged on the door.

“Come in,” Colton called.

I walked inside and closed the door behind me. “We need to tell Layla that Sean is still alive,” I said.

“Not yet,” Colton replied calmly without looking away from his computer.

“Dammit, Colton!” I yelled, slamming my hands on his desk and getting his attention. “She can’t keep living like this. She’s torturing herself!”

“She’s doing just fine,” Colt replied, “You’re the one being tortured. It isn’t time. We will know when, but that time isn’t here yet.”

“Has anyone seen what she’s been doing locked away in her office?” I asked. “How do you know it isn’t time if she’s keeping us out of the loop?”

“She hasn’t let anyone in the office, but I’m not concerned. She’s still functioning, Drew. She’s ok,” Colton said softly to calm and comfort me.

“Ok isn’t good enough. We’re slowly killing her. You didn’t kill Sean because you were worried we’d lose Layla, right?” Colt nodded. “Well, I’m worried we’ll lose her if we don’t tell her. She’s functioning, but not in a healthy way.”

“You’ve always trusted me, Drew. Don’t stop now. You know that I have Layla’s best interest in mind, and I promise you, she isn’t ready yet. If you spent time with her, you’d see it too.”

I sighed. Tyler was right. Colton wasn’t budging, and as much as I wanted to tell Layla the truth, I wouldn’t go against Colton to do it. He hasn’t ever led us wrong before; I trusted him not to now, especially with Layla’s well-being hanging in the balance.

“Fine, but I’m done with her keeping secrets from us. It’s time for her to fill us in on what the fuck she is doing,” I said.

Colton nodded. “Now that I agree with. See what you can find out. Maybe start with Molly,” he suggested.

I nodded and left his office. I went down the hall and knocked on Molly’s open door. “Hey, Mol. Do you have a minute?”

The frazzled-looking girl looked up from her computer screen. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Layla still barricaded in her office and not letting you in?” I asked.

Molly nodded. “Yep.”

“Any idea what she’s working on?”

Molly eyed me uncertainly as she chewed on her bottom lip. She and I both knew that as Layla’s personal assistant, she didn’t have to tell me shit. I was hoping she would, anyway.

“All I know is that she’s searching for Anton,” Molly finally said. “She’s been having me check passenger manifests on flights out of the major airports in the last week.”

That made sense. Layla must think that Anton must have fled the city.

“But I did get a more unusual request from her a few minutes ago to find out about chartering a plane to the Bahamas.”

That wasn’t good. If Layla is planning to fly somewhere, that’s something we should fucking know about.

“Thanks, Molly,” I said as I stormed toward Layla’s office. Plans like this were something we should all be making together. If she thought for a second we would let her go anywhere alone, she was about to learn otherwise. I didn’t bother checking to see if the office was locked; I already knew it would be. Instead, I kicked the doors in. Layla was sitting on the conference table staring at the wall and shrieked in surprise as she pointed her pistol at me. Dash and Dire started growling before realizing it was me and standing down.

“What the fuck, Drew!” Layla yelled as I looked around the office in stunned silence. The walls were covered in paper. A visual proof of her obsession with finding Anton. No wonder she wouldn’t let anyone in the office. This was the type of shit you saw on the walls of a crazy person’s cell.

“This shit is over, Layla. You aren’t plotting alone in your office anymore. This isn’t how we operate, and enough is enough,” I said evenly, trying to reign in my temper.

“You aren’t the boss of me, Drew. I’ll do what I fucking please, when I fucking please. And if and when I want your opinion or help, I will ask for it. Get out and get my fucking door fixed.”

“I’m not leaving, Layla. Not this time,” I replied.

“Fine. I’ll leave.”

Layla went to stomp past me, but I grabbed her arm to stop her. “You aren’t running away from me, Layla. We’re going to have this conversation.”

Her eyes were blazing when she turned her back to the door to face me. “And what fucking conversation would that be?”

“We could start by discussing why you’re trying to charter a plane to the Bahamas. Or we could finally address the three thousand pound elephant in the room. You haven’t talked about Sean since he died, Layla. I know you’re hurting, but you won’t be able to move past it if you don’t talk about it.”

“You want to talk about Sean?” Layla growled. “What the fuck is there to talk about, Drew?” Movement behind her had my blood run cold.

“Layla,” I cautioned, trying to warn her, but she was too pissed to heed my warning.

“No, you want to talk about Sean, let’s fucking talk about Sean,” she yelled. “Where would you like to start? Should we discuss how he betrayed me? Or maybe we should just jump right to the juicy stuff like how I had him fucking shot and fucking hate myself for it!”

My eyes closed, and my shoulders sagged at what was about to happen. I should have waited until we were in our room to push her.

“HOW COULD YOU!” Autumn screamed.

Layla turned white as terror, guilt, and regret filled her eyes. She turned around to see Autumn standing behind her. Tears streamed down the child’s angry red face.

“If I make a mistake, will you kill me too?!” Autumn sobbed.

“Autumn, you don’t understand,” Layla said, reaching for her.

“Don’t touch me, you MONSTER!” Autumn screamed, recoiling from her touch.

Jen appeared behind Autumn, followed by Zach, Colt, Tyler, and half the house.

“What’s going on?” Jen asked as Autumn ran to her.

“I want to leave, Mommy! I don’t want to be here anymore. Please, can we go?” Autumn sobbed.

Layla crumbled to the floor as Jen led Autumn away, looking confused but determined to protect her child from whatever was happening.

“I am a monster,” Layla said, sobbing.

I bent down and scooped my heart into my arms to take her upstairs. I passed Cordy, who had tears streaming down her face as well.

“Is this rock bottom enough for you?” I asked Colt as I passed by him.

“Not yet,” he replied.

I shook my head and cursed him under my breath. “Arrange for Jen and Autumn to stay at the cabin,” I ordered Tyler.

I carried Layla upstairs, the combination of her and Autumn’s cries filling the hallway. I went into our room and closed the door. I crossed to the bed and climbed onto it with Layla still in my arms. I leaned against the headboard and cradled her in my lap as she continued to sob. I would give anything to take away her pain, and in that moment, I understood what Tyler had been trying to tell me in the hall earlier.

“Tell me what you need, Baby,” I rasped, my voice thick with emotion. “I’ll do anything.”

Layla’s tear-filled eyes raised to mine. “Make it go away. Make me feel something else. Make me hurt and feel good all at once,” she begged.

“Ok, baby, ok,” I said, giving in, “but I don’t think I can hurt you, so how about I make it so good it hurts?” I shifted her onto her back and braced myself over her. I trailed feather-light kisses across her face, tasting her salty tears. Tracing the seam of her lips with my tongue briefly before dipping inside her mouth to taste her. I kept the kiss light and teasing, holding myself back from devouring her completely.

Layla fisted my shirt at my sides, trying to tug me against her. “Drew, please,” she begged when I continued my feather kisses down her jaw to her neck.

“Easy, baby. I’ve got you,” I promised, shifting my weight to one hand to stroke her hair with my other. “We have all the time in the world.” I moved so that I was kneeling between her legs and pulled her shirt and bra off. Sliding a hand up her stomach and between her breasts, I gently squeezed her throat as I leaned forward to take one of her nipples into my mouth. I bounced between her breasts until she was writhing uncontrollably beneath me.

“Drew!”

I chuckled as I slid my hand inside her pants to cup her wet pussy. I let my fingers slide through her folds, squeezing her clit between my fingers. Pulling my hand back out, I held my hand in front of her face. “Look at how wet you are for me. Such a needy little pussy.” I slipped my fingers into her mouth. “Suck,” I ordered. “See how good you taste? I’m going to spend hours between your legs, Baby.”

“Stop talking about it and just do it,” Layla whined.

I climbed off the bed and pulled her to the edge before removing the rest of her clothes. Dropping to my knees, I pulled her legs over my shoulders and took my first lick of her pussy. I wasn’t exaggerating much when I said I planned to spend hours eating her sweet little pussy. I lapped at her pussy with varying degrees of pressure, sometimes sitting back and just blowing cool air on her. I lost track of how many orgasms I denied her, but by the time I couldn’t wait any longer to bury my cock inside of her, she was wetter than I had ever seen her before. I stood and quickly shoved my jeans down and kicked them off.

“I swear to God, if you don’t let me come, I will hurt you,” Layla panted.

“Have you had enough torture?” I asked her as I teased my cock through her folds. I tapped my swollen head lightly on her engorged clit. Even though I had reached my limit, teasing her more was impossible to resist. There was something about seeing the most powerful woman in the city falling to pieces beneath me that fed my ego.

“Yes! Please, Drew, just fuck me and let me come!”

“Just remember you asked for it,” I told her as I buried myself inside her. I felt her pussy begin to flutter around my cock as soon as I entered her. To push her over the edge, I brushed my thumb over her clit. Layla moaned loudly as she came undone. As soon as she started to come, I began to fuck her through her orgasm, using long, slow strokes. I was determined to keep her orgasm going for as long as possible. One turned to two, and when I rubbed her clit in quick circles, two flowed into three.

Gritting my teeth, I struggled to keep from coming by sheer stubbornness. I wasn’t done with her yet and refused to cut this short. “Fuck you feel so good coming on my cock, Layla. Such a good fucking girl,” I groaned.

Layla started to push against my stomach to get me to stop, so I pinned her arms to the bed by her side and increased my pace slightly. “It’s too much,” Layla cried out. “Drew, please, just pause for a second.”

“That’s not going to happen, Layla,” I replied, bending my head to capture her lips with mine. Shifting forward like that meant I could grind against her clit more, so I slowed my thrusts enough to grind against her before pulling out again. Breaking the kiss, I looked down at her and felt a small thrill as I saw the tears gathering in the creases of her tightly closed eyes. Her brow furrowed as she bit her bottom lip. Layla’s entire body was tense, causing her to squeeze my dick even tighter.

“It hurts,” Layla whined. “It’s too much. Too much. Please,” Layla continued to moan incoherently, losing the ability to form words as I drove her insane with overstimulation.

“I thought you wanted it to hurt,” I grunted. It was taking everything I had to keep from coming, but as my balls began to tighten, I knew that I had already passed the point of no return. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. “One more, Layla. I want one more from you, and then we can be done. Come for me, Layla. Let me hear you scream. Let the whole fucking house hear you. COME!”

I slammed into her one final time before my cock erupted inside of her, painting her cervix with my seed. Layla let out a piercing scream as I forced her body into one final orgasm. I buried my face in Layla’s neck and clung to her as her pulsing pussy milked my cock. Neither of us moved except for a twitch here or there as we came back down.

“Holy fuck,” Layla croaked.

I chuckled as she pushed against my shoulders. As soon as I rolled off of her, Layla curled into a ball and cupped her pussy protectively.

“It won’t stop fucking twitching!” she moaned. “I think you broke my fucking clit!”

My chuckle turned to full-blown laughter as I slapped her ass. “You wanted pain, so I made it so good it hurt,” I replied.

Eventually, Layla rolled toward me and curled against my side with her head on my chest. I lazily played with her hair, content to just exist with her in this rare little bubble. I realized that most of my anger came from the fear of her shutting us out and what that might mean. I didn’t like feeling disconnected from her. Hopefully, we can move forward in a healthier direction.

L ayla and I fell asleep together. I awoke briefly when the others joined us for bed, and when I awoke the next morning, Layla and I were the only ones in the bed again. I snuck out, careful not to wake her, pulled on a pair of basketball shorts, and went downstairs.

“Where’s Layla?” Colt asked when I entered the kitchen. Cordy had her back to me at the stove while my brothers sat at the table.

“Still asleep,” I replied, making a beeline for the coffee. “Did Autumn and Jen make it to the cabin?”

“Yep. They’re tucked away safe and sound,” Tyler replied. “We left some men up there with them for safety.”

“I don’t understand how none of you told me the truth about what happened to Sean,” Cordy growled as she slapped the counter with her spatula. “You don’t think that’s something I should have known?”

“I’m sorry, Cordy,” I said, setting my cup down and closing the distance between us so that I could hug her. “We were just trying to care for Layla the best we could.”

“And you don’t think I could have helped with that?” she asked, pushing me away and bending to rifle through one of the cabinets. “I’ve only been doing it her entire life. I know the five of you better than the back of my hand. You should have told me!” Cordy straightened and slammed a food tray down on the island.

“You’re right, Cordy,” Colton said. “We should have told you. We will remember that next time.”

“You better,” she huffed, turning back to the stove. I gave Colton an incredulous look. Was he seriously saying that when we were still keeping secrets? Cordy was going to skin him alive when she found out. Colt just shrugged, and I shook my head at him as I joined them at the table.

“You may be grown, but I’ll still take you over my knee and reintroduce you to my wooden spoon if I have to,” Cordy continued, oblivious to the silent conversation behind her.

“Cordy!” Zach said with mock horror. “That’s kinky! I like it.”

“Oh, hush you,” Cordy said, waving her hand at him and turning pink as she set a plate of food on the tray. She poured a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee and added them to the tray. She lifted the tray and began walking out of the kitchen.

I exchanged panicked, confused looks with the others and stood to look at the empty pans on the stove. “Umm, Cordy?” I said.

She paused and turned back to us. “Yes?”

“What’s for breakfast?” I asked hesitantly. She had a glint in her eye that I didn’t trust.

“I made pancakes and sausage for Miss Layla,” she replied. “I’m not sure what you boys will be having. Perhaps the answer to that question can be found wherever the real truth about what happened with Sean is. You can’t pull the wool over my eyes so easily, boys. I raised you as well.” We were left watching her as she turned and left the kitchen.

“Well, fuck,” Tyler murmured.

“So there’s no breakfast?” Zach asked.

“Not today, there isn’t,” I replied.