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But damn, how incredible did she feel on my lap earlier? Not to mention I know she felt my need. She knows she’s tearing me apart, she has to.
Not only is she the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen but her mind is off the charts. Must be all that reading that fuels her imagination and has her brain synapses constantly sparked. You can see the intelligence in her eyes, the way those baby blues are so bright, so alert, so full of life. The girl is smart as fuck.
And I call her ‘girl’ to her face for a reason. I need to constantly remind myself that’s exactly what she is, despite being legal in the eyes of the law.
Just like my business with her father, we don’t deal with anything that can find its way back to minors. No drugs, no weapons. We stick with things like gambling, and adult men. We leave women and kids out of the equation entirely.
But I can’t leave her out of my life equation any longer, because I know one plus one doesn’t equal two. It equals at least five, as in five children. And at least five billion as in the amount of times better my life will be with her by my side. What good is all the money in the world if there’s no one to share it with, no one to come home to or support and to receive support back from?
And who gets all this money when I eventually die? Yeah, Layla would be fine as her father’s only child, but I don’t want her to have to wait to take over the fortune we’ve amassed. I want her by my side to help me spend it on enjoyment and to even help me grow the business.
At her age, she clearly understands trends and technology better than I do. With her help we could grow the business exponentially, while simultaneously do the same kind of growth with that beautiful belly of hers, keeping her constantly pregnant with our children.
I never in a million years thought I’d experience these kinds of feelings, but with Layla, they’ve become a reality. I need her in all ways, and I need to become a better man to have her.
Then again maybe I am crazy. Maybe a life in the underworld is my destiny and risking everything for her, including my friendship with her father, is a pipe dream. Maybe it’s just a fantasy that she even wants to be with her dad’s best friend and to involve herself for one second with a man who’s got blood on his hands. She’s better than me, plain and simple, and she could easily find an accountant and settle down in the suburbs and live the white picket fence dream.
But another man putting his hands on her would be my nightmare, and I wouldn’t dream of allowing that. Ever.
A rumble from deep in my chest echoes through my Range Rover, my feral need for her reminds me that there’s no way I can even try to rationalize not pursuing my desire, my everything, her.
She will be mine.
3
Layla
The next day
I lean back in my seat at my dining room table and extend my hands as high as I can, stretching my arms.
“It’s getting late, huh?” Dan asks.
“Yeah, but I’m good to continue.”
“Just a little longer, then?” he suggests, his eyes moving from mine to the window and then back. He’s been acting a bit nervous all night. Nervous but somewhat excited too. I guess boys my age are just that way. It’s part of being eighteen and in your first semester of college, or community college to be exact since my dad doesn’t want me studying far from home.
A bright light pans in through the front windows and then disappears, letting me know dad has just arrived home, pulling up in our horseshoe driveway.
“Sure,” I agree with Dan.
“You know what. I just remembered I have some things I need to do tomorrow. I better get going. We can work on this project later, maybe at the library?”
“Ok. Sure,” I agree, a bit annoyed at Dan’s wishy-washiness and also asking me all the questions. Can’t he just make a decision or a suggestion without waiting for me to confirm, to be the boss? I appreciate him wanting my input, but he can just say what he wants and if I have another idea I’ll voice it then, like an adult.
“Is there a way to leave out the back?” his wobbly voice asks.
“Only if you want to climb the fence, part of which is electric, and that’s after you outrun two Doberman Pinschers.”
He mumbles something incoherent as he stuffs his supplies into his bag without a care for organizing any of it. “Okay. Front it is. Cool. Gotta run,” he says, moving quickly to the front door which has me cocking my eyebrow inquisitively.
Dan’s already clearing the side of the entryway into the kitchen as I stand. Before I can say ‘hold your horses’ or ‘let me show you out at least’ I hear a thud and quickly move to see what happened.
“Need to keep an eye on where you’re going, son,” a deep voice warns out from the entryway to the house and I know immediately it’s not my dad’s.
Just as I turn the corner I see Logan reaching down and grabbing Dan by the back of the shirt and literally yanking him up to his feet. “Thank you, sir.”
“Best be going. It’s late and I’m not sure how you managed to last this long, let alone even get inside the house.”
