Now and Forever (2 page)

“Cole smacking my ass isn’t that big of a deal,” Emma said, reaching for another cookie.

“But you like him talking dirty, too, don’t you? What does he say?”

Emma leaned against the counter and smiled. “He texted me the other day that he was in his office daydreaming about the last time we had sex there. He said he wanted me on my knees under his desk and then he wanted to bend me over it and make my ass sore for making him hard right before a meeting.”

Dani’s eyebrows shot up. “When you say ‘ass sore’, do you mean spanking or . . .?”

Emma laughed and shook her head. “Spanking, yes. Geez, Dani.”

“God, I can’t believe Cole Marlowe spanks you for making him hard. You lucky bitch.”

“Let’s see how lucky I am,” Emma said, squaring her shoulders. “It’s been five minutes, hasn’t it?”

Dani followed her to the bathroom. Emma steadied her hand and reached across the marble countertop to retrieve the stick. She looked at the purple lines on the center of it and her head swam with dizziness, forcing her to grab the doorframe to steady herself.

“Plus sign,” she said softly, reaching frantically for the instructions. “What does that mean?”

Dani wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Em, it means you’re pregnant.”

Emma glanced frantically at her friend, her disbelief ebbing away as the news sank in. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” she said, shaking her head.

***

The travel agent’s perky tone on the other end of the phone was on Layla’s last nerve, and she rolled her eyes toward the ceiling of her office as Sandy rattled off the upsides of vacationing in Colorado in March.

“You’ll love it, honey. I went in March myself once and it was
amazing
,” Sandy gushed.

“I’m sure it was. But I asked you to book this trip for May, not March. So how can we get this fixed?” Layla scrolled through the last few messages in her inbox. Her calendar said it was Wednesday, but this day had Monday written all over it. Two no-show clients, a moody judge and a sandwich bathed in the mayo she’d asked the guy at the deli to leave off.

“Well . . . it’s not that easy at this point,” Sandy said. “There are cancellation fees and I don’t know if I can book those other dates.”

“That’s your problem,” Layla said, slipping her feet back into the heels beneath her desk. “You’re the one who booked the wrong dates.”

“Are you sure you said May?”

Layla sighed into the phone. “Completely sure, because I’m looking at the email I sent you about this and it says May 20-25. I can forward it to you if you want.”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” Sandy paused. “I could throw in some horseback riding coupons if you’d give March a shot?”

“I don’t want any coupons, I want my trip booked for the dates I requested,” Layla said tersely. “My boyfriend is a cop, and he has to teach a class downstate in March and we can’t go then. This rafting trip is a Christmas gift to him, so you’ve got to get it fixed.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Sandy said.

“Would you?” Layla forced herself to hold back the sarcasm.

“Certainly, Miss Carson. I’ll be in touch.”

Layla hung up the phone and shook her head. Nothing like screwing up her first Christmas gift to Ben to cap off this shit day.

She shut down her computer and pulled her wool coat from the rack in the corner of her office. This space was tiny and not nearly as sophisticated as the office she’d occupied at her firm, but it was all hers. Opening her own practice had meant a lot of long, hard days, but they were more satisfying than the days at her corporate firm had been. She was building something all her own here.

After she switched off the lobby lights and locked the door, she walked to her car and tossed her messenger bag, briefcase and thick case law hardback across the driver’s seat into the passenger one and headed home. Thank God it was Ben’s night to pick up dinner. Layla was too tired for anything but a bath and her favorite pink flannel pajamas.

She parked her sedan on the street a block over from her apartment and gathered her stuff to carry inside. Why, she didn’t know, because she really wasn’t up for working tonight.

What sounded good tonight was snuggling up to Ben on the couch, even if she had to watch Sportscenter. He’d worked late and slept at his own place the night before, so they hadn’t seen each other since dinner Monday night.

“Hey,” he said when she closed the apartment door behind her and dropped her bags into a chair. She was about to flop onto the couch when Ben walked over and wrapped his long arms around her waist. “How’s my girl?” he asked.

“Tired. You look really good,” she said, admiring his dark blue dress shirt. When he wore blue, she had no hope of resisting him. The way it matched his eyes undid her every time.

“You too,” he said, bending a little to nuzzle his nose in her hair. “Are those my favorite stockings you’re wearing?”

“They might be.” They were. She’d actually changed out of her dark linen pants this morning to wear the black pencil skirt and sheer thigh-high stockings she knew he loved.

“I’m staying tonight,” Ben said, his hands roaming down her back to give her ass a squeeze that made her smile.

“Good. But I am really tired.”

“Don’t play coy with me, baby.” Ben smacked her ass and raised his eyebrows. “You’ve got
fuck me
written all over your gorgeous face.”

“Do I? Maybe that’s why the UPS guy had a boner when he left my office earlier.”

Ben stepped away, walking toward the kitchen. “You know how I get when you make me jealous,” he said. “Don’t cry to me when you’re sore tomorrow.”

Layla smiled. Did he know how much she liked that? She knew that the rougher Ben was in bed, the more tender he was feeling. Sex was his emotional outlet, and for that, she considered herself a lucky girl. Her 6’5” detective just got hotter with time. Over the months they’d been together, they’d gotten familiar with each other’s likes and dislikes. And he remembered every little touch that got her going.

“How was work?” Ben asked, setting plates out on the kitchen table. Layla recognized the white carryout containers from their favorite Thai place.

“Honestly? It sucked. The asshole at the deli ruined my sandwich on purpose at lunch and I had two clients no show. And the UPS guy actually did hit on me with a really lame line about his package.”

Ben turned to face her, his brows lowered with dismay.

“No, it’s fine,” Layla said. “I used my charm and he pretty much left in tears. And how was your day, Sergeant?”

“I spent it behind my desk doing paperwork,” Ben practically growled. “Had to discipline one of the guys. And, um . . . before we eat, I’ve got something for you.”

He strode to the kitchen counter and grabbed a square, pale turquoise box with the scrolling ‘E’ that symbolized Emma’s bakery. Layla groaned, knowing what was inside.

“Ben, you have to stop bringing me cupcakes. I don’t have as much time for working out, and the last thing I need is to gain weight.”

“You’re perfect,” he said, extending the box toward her. “Try it. It’s a new kind.”

Layla smiled, knowing that anything her sister baked would be irresistible. “Later. First -- dinner. And then I’m putting on my unsexy pajamas so we can watch Sportscenter.”

“You like Sportscenter, don’t you?” Ben asked, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he grinned.

“No, I like
you
so I tolerate Sportscenter.” Layla opened one of the containers and breathed in the fresh, spicy smell of the food inside. “Let’s eat, I’m starving.”

Ben shuffled, still holding out the box. “Will you just taste this cupcake? I want to know if you like it.” He gave her a funny look and she smiled, puzzled.

“Right now?” she asked, turning away from her chair at the kitchen table.

“Now.” Ben sat the box in her hands and she pulled the lid open.

Her eyes widened and a hand flew over her mouth. The cherry that was always perched on top of the cupcakes Ben brought her was missing; in its place was a glistening diamond. Layla’s heart pounded so hard she thought it might stop. When she finally tore her eyes away from the sparkling stone and looked back to Ben, he was on one knee in front of her.

“Oh my God, Ben!” she cried, her hand shaking as she sat the box on the table. “I’m about to die right now, is this for real?”

The corners of his lips hinted at a smile as he gazed up at her. “Layla, I’m not great with words, but I love you so goddamn much it hurts. Marry me.”

His blue eyes were pleading, and her heart twisted at the worry she saw there. Was he afraid she’d say no? As if it was even possible.

Before meeting Ben, she’d been convinced that any marriage proposal would come from a smart, centered man with a good career who wanted a strong, educated partner. Never had she thought she’d sob uncontrollably as a man who made her weak in the knees asked her to be his wife.

But here she was, crying openly, squealing and squeezing her eyes shut to make sure it was real. Ben’s shoulders dropped a little as seconds passed.

“God, I’m sorry, I’m just so surprised!” she cried. “Yes, I will! I’ll marry you, Ben.”

In an instant, he swept her from the floor, his arms lifting her so high she was looking down at his face. He gave a vocal exhale of relief and happiness and she lowered her lips to his, wondering how she’d gotten lucky enough to find the man who excited her, loved her and
got
her in every way.

Their happy kiss quickly became something more. Ben’s powerful hold sparked Layla’s arousal and she wove her fingers into his dark blond hair, which had just enough length for her to pull. His groan of satisfaction urged her on and she nipped his lower lip with her teeth. As he turned to walk toward the bedroom, she wrapped her legs around him, relishing the feel of his hard body against hers.

Ben wound an arm around her waist, forcing her hips against his, and the feel of his erection against her made Layla bite down harder on his lip. Ben slowed his walk, kissing her so long and hard she was breathless.

“Tell me you love me,” he said, his eyes softening. This was his game, and it tore at Layla’s heart every time. He needed to hear the words from Layla, she knew, because he’d never heard them from anyone other than his twin sister. Ben was raised by a single mom whose priorities were drinking and men rather than her two children. He needed the affirmation as much as the sex.

“I love you,” she said, meeting his gaze. “You’re everything to me, and I can’t wait to be your wife.”

His lips grazed her neck softly and she tipped her head back, giving a sigh of satisfaction from the feel of his rough stubble against her bare skin.

“You didn’t put on your ring,” he said, his breath warm against her neck.

“Fuck the ring. I want you.”

His eyes darkened with desire and he stopped walking, pressing her back against the hallway wall. A charge of hot desire ran though Layla as Ben worked her skirt up around her waist. He ran his palms down the silky stockings on her inner thighs, stopping at her knees and pushing them apart.

“Spread your legs wide for me,” he said in a low tone. “Show me how bad you want me. Arms up.”

She complied eagerly, raising her arms straight into the air. Ben pressed them to the wall with one forearm, restraining her. She tried to keep herself from panting when she felt him unbuttoning his dress pants. They dropped to the floor and his belt buckle clanged on the wood.

Writhing against him, she tried to free her arms so she could pull down her stockings. But a ripping sound told her that wouldn’t be necessary. Ben had torn through her stockings and her panties.

The man was hard on her nice lingerie, but damned if it wasn’t worth every penny. His primal need to get inside her quickly undid her every time. He also wouldn’t be bothering with a condom this time, which was fine with Layla since she was on the pill. Tonight it felt right to have nothing between them.

He thrust himself into her with one powerful motion and her cry of satisfaction ended with a whimper when he didn’t move back. The fullness of him, completely still inside her, was maddening and hot at the same time.

“Ben! Don’t torture me like this!” She pressed against him but was pinned firmly to the wall by his hips and his arm. His bright blue eyes glimmered with desire as they met hers.

“I can’t wait to own you like no man ever has before,” he said. His husky tone and commanding words turned her on despite her status as a modern, independent woman.

“I can’t wait to own
you
like no woman ever has before,” she said, trying to keep her voice level. She was starting to think movement wouldn’t even be needed to get her off right now. His low growl of desire only added to her frustration.

He eased out of her slowly and she sucked in a breath of anticipation. “You wanna be the boss, Cupcake? Want me to lay down so you can fuck me?”

Dammit, he had her there. “No. No . . . I want you to fuck me.”

Another growl from him made her moan. “Tell me more,” he said urgently. His lips grazed over her jaw line the way he knew drove her crazy. “How do you want me to fuck you? Nice and easy?”

“Hard.” She pulled his hair and begged for more by pressing her hips into his.

“When?” he asked, his tone light.

“Dammit, Ben! Now! Fuck me now!”

“So demanding, baby. I like it.” He released his hold on her arms and returned his hands to her thighs, spreading them wide. She arched her back, the line between simple want and desperation blurred by the burn in her core.

He wanted to keep teasing her; she could see it on his face. He loved making her pant and moan before giving her what she wanted. Usually she liked it, too, but tonight she didn’t think she could take any more.

“Please, Ben! I need you. Right now. I can’t wait.”

He hooked his hands beneath her knees and pressed her against the wall, a loud groan escaping his lips as he pounded himself into her. The game had worked him up, too. Layla could see he was forcing himself to hold back.

The build inside her was deep and perfect, and she tipped her head back against the wall as Ben brought her to the peak that only he could. She gripped his shoulders and cried his name, and she was just starting to come down when he pinned her to the wall with a final thrust of his hips, his deep groan hot against her neck.