14. Layne

Chapter fourteen

Layne

T he cool morning air from the bay blows into the apartment from the open window. My eyes shoot open and I feel Wes’s warm body pressed against me. He’s still here . He stayed the night. With me. I half expected him to leave in the early hours of the morning, leaving me to deal with all the emotions from what we did by myself. But he didn’t. Slipping out of bed, I tiptoe toward the bathroom, my bare feet cold on the hardwood floor. The door creaks as I close it over to pee. I’m hoping the sound doesn’t wake him up. Toilet paper in hand, I go to wipe and the door creaks open, thinking it’s the breeze, so I pay it no mind.

“Thought you could sneak away while I slept?” he coos in a raspy morning voice. I practically jump out of my skin as he enters the bathroom.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Wes! I’m just peeing. I can’t do that alone?”

“Negative, baby.” He smirks, leaning against the door frame.

His eyes stay on me as I finish up. It still hurts a lot, and there’s still some blood. Without pain relievers, I doubt I’ll feel comfortable at all today. Without speaking, Wes hands me a glass he fills from the sink. He unscrews the medicine bottle and drops two pills into my palm. I examine the pills, the same ones that sat on my bedside table yesterday morning.

“You left me water and medicine yesterday morning,” realizing the kind gesture and my initial reaction to it, “That was very sweet of you.”

He leans down and kisses my forehead. “Get dressed and ready. We need food.”

I’m not usually up this early. While standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I brush my teeth and run a brush through my hair, then pull it back into a lazy bun. I leave the bathroom and pull out clothes from my dresser. Wes leaves the door to the bathroom open, peeing while in there.

“Hey, there is a new toothbrush under the sink. It’s yours now.” I call out to him.

I can hear him digging in the cabinet. A smile spreads across my face, knowing that he is serious about this situation.

Dammit, Layne, don’t get too attached. He is your stalker; you don’t know him. Don’t assume he’ll always be sweet just because he took your virginity and then stayed the night with you.

I replay last night repeatedly in my head. The sounds he made will forever be my favorite noise. Wes walks out of the bathroom in just his boxers briefs and I can’t help but stare. He’s beautiful, with his body covered in ink, tall and lean, but with just enough muscle to know he could throw me around. I shake my head to stop myself from going back to thoughts of his cock and what it did to me last night.

“You good?” Wes eyes me suspiciously.

“Yep,” I squeak, and that makes him smirk.

Wes heads towards the couch to put his pants and shirt back on and I take time to really admire him, my eyes lingering on his strong back for a moment before they trail down to the curve of his ass. In a black mid-thigh dress and knee-high socks, I come into the room with my knife harness. I slip into my sneakers and put my foot up on the couch so I can strap my harness on.

Wes grabs the harness from me. “ Ma Petite Mort , you don’t need this when I’m with you. I’ll protect you.”

I catch myself before I roll my eyes at him. “A girl can’t be too safe in San Francisco. Even if she has a scary stalker with her.”

He bends down and straps it to my thigh for me. Down on his knees, looking up at me, he places a tender kiss on the thigh. The sight makes me hold my breath. He gets up and drags me by the hand towards the door, I stop and notice the window’s still open from last night, and I gesture towards it.

“What? Do you think another stalker is going to sneak in while we’re gone, Layne?” As he backs away to close the window, I give him a playful smack on the chest.

“Indulge me, and lock it.” I smile.

After closing and locking it, he makes his way back to me and takes my hand back in his. I lock up the apartment and we head down the stairs. After two blocks of walking, we arrive at a black classic car. “Why the hell did you park so far away?” Wes opens the passenger door for me, lowering me down into the seat.

“Force of habit. This is where I park when I come to watch you.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Park in the alley from now on. That’s where the owner said I could park. If I ever end up getting a car.”

“From now on, huh?” He smiles then licks his lips before leaning into kiss me.

From now on? Shit, Layne don’t sound so set on him sticking around.

It’s only nine in the morning and it’s actually a really nice day outside. Wes pulls his car into the parking lot of a small diner right by the water. Yes! At least he knows that greasy food is a necessity this early in the morning. Even though I didn’t drink last night, I’m freaking starving and can demolish a plate of French toast right now. He locks the car and guides me to the entrance of the diner, where an older woman greets us and sits us at a booth with a window overlooking the bay.

“So, is this like our first date?” I joke as I look over the menu.

French Toast, sold!

“Aw, am I growing on you, Ma Petite Mort? Nah, I’ll just take you down to the courthouse and marry you. First and last date done.“ He motions with his hands like a bomb dropping, a side-smirk on his face.

My eyes widen and I whisper, “Oh my God!” He doesn’t laugh. Fuck , I thought to myself, trying to make sense of whether he is being serious. The returning waitress takes our order and sets down cups of coffee. I reach for the cream and sugar and add four of each. Wes picks up the mug of black coffee and takes a sip.

“You’re a psychopath as well, I see.” He puts the cup back down and stares at me with a look of confusion. “Black coffee? Really?” He laughs not just a light chuckle. I’m talking a full-on deep belly laugh, one that makes the corners of his eyes squint.

“If anyone is the psychopath, it’s you, my dear. How much cream and sugar do you need? Is that even considered coffee anymore?”

My phone beeps in my pocket and I pull it out. Three unread texts from Atlas.

Atlas: Bitch, did you make it home okay?

Atlas: You are probably not up yet, but In Flames is doing a show tonight at the Warfield if you want to hit that up. I can grab some discounted tickets.

Atlas: Let me know ASAP .

Shit! I forgot I told Atlas we would go to a show tonight. I look back up from my phone and Wes is staring at me.

“Everything okay?”

I put my phone on the table and grab the mug of coffee. “Mmhm, just my friend reminding me I promised to hang out with him tonight.”

Wes’s eyes narrow, jealousy very present in his body language.

“Atlas is my best friend, and he works with me at the store. He’s definitely not interested in me.” Wes rolls his eyes.

“Hey, not fair that you can roll your eyes, but I can’t,” I pout, pushing out my bottom lip.

“This,” waving his hand up and down at me, motioning to my response, “is why you can’t. You’re a brat, baby. Don’t worry, I’ll fix that.”

My eyes are daggers. “I scratch and bite,“ motioning with my teeth.

He leans across the table, his voice low and husky. “You’ll crawl and beg too.“ He promises, licking his lips. “Don’t mistake my obsession and undying devotion to you as weakness, baby. I fully intend on taming that brat inside you.”

God damn, there must be something seriously wrong with me because my panties are so wet right now and despite still being sore, I would let him bend me over this table and fuck me again .

I clear my throat and adjust my position to get comfortable. I reach for the coffee and take a much-needed drink.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Wes teases, knowing exactly what is wrong.

So in true brat fashion, I stick my tongue out at him.

“Careful, Ma Petite Mort . I can put that tongue to good use if you keep it up.”

“So where is Atlas taking you tonight?“ Poison drips from Atlas’s name as it leaves Wes’s mouth. He still thinks that Atlas is interested and that’s so cute.

“An In Flames concert.” The waitress brings our plates of food, and I reach for the syrup and drench the French toast. The first bite makes me moan, eyes roll back because it’s sinfully delicious. He cuts into his steak and eggs, takes a bite, and then lets out a deep sigh.

“Where?” He inquires.

I lift my head from my plate as I was completely lost in my food. “Huh? Where what?”

“Where exactly is the concert going to be?” He presses for the information.

“The Warfield,” I say, hoping that tames the stalker. He nods his head in acceptance and continues to eat his breakfast. “Until then, you’re all mine, right?”

“I’m free. I don’t have any other plans.” The smile he gives me can break hearts, and I’m sure that he’ll break mine, eventually.

Because you aren’t good enough for anyone. Soon he’ll see that.

“Better text him back then, to let him know you’ll be there.” I grab my phone from the table and shoot off a series of texts to Atlas.

Layne: Hey sorry I didn’t text you back last night. I got caught up with a friend.

Layne: Text me the time doors open.

Atlas: Doors open at 7. Bitch 3

“There, all done.” I put my phone in my bag and continue to eat my food. “So, what do you want to do today?”

“Is the courthouse still not an option?” Wes eyes me playfully, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

What comes out is more like a snort than a laugh. “Not today, Romeo.”

“Well, then that leaves only one other option.”

“And that would be?” I lean back against the booth’s back. His eyes darken and the word that leaves his mouth makes me clench my thighs together.

“You.”