Queen of Hearts

“He carried you? Like picked you up and carried you like a bride over the threshold?” Gretchen was in shock.

“I’m still reeling from it,” Layla admitted, placing a hand over her heart. “Then he came to brunch.”

Gretchen smiled. “Lucas Foster is a strange character, but he’s not this social. What’s his deal?”

“Maybe he enjoys tormenting me. He hates Paul.”

“I think I like Lucas.”

Layla scoffed, “Rude!”

What Layla didn’t mention was the sexual innuendos and advances from him. She didn’t need her friend pressuring her into teasing the situation.

“He’s going to be working with my parents.”

“Geez! What else does this man do?”

Layla was getting ready for another lonely night at the apartment while Paul claimed he had to study with his group.

“What happened to bar guy?”

Gretchen huffed. “Total bummer. He wanted to talk, not get frisky.”

Layla wrinkled her nose. “Oh no! God forbid you talk to him and get to know him!”

“Honey, that’s not what I was looking for!” Gretchen giggled. “Why don’t I stay the night?” she offered.

Layla shook her head. “I’m fine, Gretch. I have work tomorrow anyway, and so do you. You know we’ll be up all night talking about—”

“Lucas’s body!”

Layla frowned. “Ugh…no…stop. I’m already getting the cold shoulder from Paul.”

“Why? Because Lucas put him in his place?”

“Lucas has a big chip on his shoulder, and he needs to chill out.” Layla grabbed her uniform for work. “Speaking of chilling out, I’m almost done with my dispatch classes!”

Gretchen whooped with glee. “Are you nervous?”

Layla nodded, giggling. “I am. What if I say the wrong things?!”

“Then you pass the phone. You know what to do.” Gretchen looked at her phone. “I gotta run, but we’ll catch up this week!”

Gretchen gave her a quick hug and ran off. Layla admired her friend’s spunk and charisma. She was only a little more reserved, having her own share of eccentricities, but Layla had become a little damaged as of late.

She texted Paul before getting into bed, but he didn’t text back.

She knew he was always so busy these days, but he’d promised to take her out for the entire weekend to Galveston, and she was excited. Perhaps this would bring them back together—the way it was before.

It made her skin crawl when all she could think about was Lucas Foster bottoming out inside of her pussy.

“What is wrong with me?!” she cried into the darkness of the bedroom she shared with Paul.

It took forever to fall asleep, but she prayed Lucas wouldn’t infiltrate her dreams.

***

“Fuck, Lucas!” the stripper screamed as Lucas pounded into her core. “Jesus…”

Lucas was pumping into her so hard that he knew both of them would be raw in the morning.

“Yeah, you like that?” He panted into Shawna’s ear. “I know you’ve got one more for me.”

Shawna yelped as Lucas’s mammoth cock hit the back of her channel. She clenched around him and exploded into oblivion.

“Shittttt…” Shawna grabbed the bedsheets, fisting them tightly as Lucas plowed into her pussy from behind. “I don’t have… I can’t…”

Lucas chuckled. “Sure you can, Shawna. You can cum one more time for me.”

With one more thrust from him, Shawna was sent over the edge, cumming violently around Lucas’s shaft.

“Ohhhhhhh!”

Shawna’s body went limp as Lucas continued to hammer into her until his orgasm hit him like a ton of bricks.

He pulled out his cock and fisted it quickly, sticky cum shooting out of him and onto Shawna’s rosy little ass cheeks.

“Fuckkkkk…” Lucas toppled over, leaving Shawna on her stomach, grinning at him.

“Baby, I know you like to role-play, but let me in on it ahead of time.”

Lucas glared at her. “What do you mean?”

Shawna sat up and smiled at him. “Who the hell’s Layla?”

***

Layla could see him stumbling around in the dark. She tried to pretend like she was sleeping, but Paul turned on the lights and started rambling about his thesis and drunkards at a frat party he wasn’t even supposed to be at.

Some of the frat friends Paul had made were on his mock trial team. He wanted to be a prosecutor and eventually go to Harvard, but Layla wasn’t too sure he was getting in to such a prestigious school.

Paul had the drive and ambition, talent and grades to get in, but recently he’d been spending more time simply trying to impress people.

Gretchen was right. Paul wasn’t the man he once was, but Layla loved him and knew people grew up and out of things over time.

They’d been together since high school and now—at twenty-five—both of them were excited to start the new chapter of their lives eventually.

But it seemed that Layla was furthering herself far more than Paul was.

Paul’s father was in the wine industry and a head executive on Wall Street.

Paul had grown up very different from Layla, but he’d rebelled in middle school against his parents’ conservative ways and stuffiness, only to throw out that part of himself altogether and start on a law degree.

Not that Layla would ever tell him how to dress, but once a jeans and T-shirt guy, Paul now wore polo shirts and khakis most of the time—dress shoes and business suits. She usually felt very underdressed around him.

Banquets and dinners, award ceremonies and parties for the elitists were all the rage for Paul now, and his family was ecstatic.

“Baby, you’re not even ready for your thesis yet,” she said as calmly as she could, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “You’ve got time.”

Paul sneered, stopping in his tracks. He gave a low growl, and Layla instantly regretted having spoken up.

He crawled onto the bed and on top of her, holding her down as if she was going to run away.

“I think you’re underestimating me—again. You know I don’t like that!” he stammered out, barely getting the sentences formulated.

He tried to unbutton his pants, but the alcohol had made him so inebriated that Paul was a lost cause at the moment.

“Paul… Paul, please don’t do this.” Layla struggled underneath him as his weight became heavier. “You’re crushing me.”

She fought back, pushing and hitting his shoulders, bucking her hips to get him to relieve her of his heaviness.

“What? You don’t like this foreplay?” Paul joked menacingly.

Suddenly, she bit him on the shoulder, and that stopped him in his tracks. He reared his hand back to hit her, and Layla braced for impact, but the slap never came.

Paul toppled off of her and onto the floor, crawling into the bathroom, where Layla could hear the sounds of him vomiting.

Frozen, she stayed still until she heard the shower running and then she dressed, gathered her things, and called their mutual friend, Lauren, who was still out partying.

“Can I stay at your dorm tonight? Paul’s being too much and I need sleep.”

Lauren was fine with it, telling Layla the key code.

Paul would be angry that she left, but at least she’d be spared one more night.

***

Lucas couldn’t sleep either, but it wasn’t because a woman had barged in to take advantage of him.

He had had another bout of night terrors that had forced him to focus on the punching bag instead of slumber.

He’d been with Shawna so many times, and now he was calling her Layla? What was happening?

There was something about her that calmed him but also drove him mad, and he didn’t like not knowing what was going on with his mental state.

“Fuck it.” He downed more of the whiskey and put his fist through the door of his master bath. “I’ll fix it later.”

He went off in search of something to take his thoughts away from Layla Potter.

“She’s not the one, ole chap.”

***

The following day, Layla went to school, then work, and then headed straight to the class for crisis dispatch.

“Tonight we’re going to do some practice calls,” the teacher, Rosie, was telling Layla and her little group. “Is everyone ready?”

Layla nodded eagerly as the little phone lit up in front of her. She did well her first few times but became a little confused during the last calls.

“It’s okay, Layla,” Rosie told her. “You did well.”

“But the person didn’t stay on the line with me.” Layla frowned.

“It happens sometimes, and we just have to hope for the best.”

Layla sighed. She wanted to help everyone though. That’s all she wanted out of life.

“Okay, tomorrow it’s going to be real calls, folks!” Rosie said, clapping her hands together. “Y’all did fantastic. Go home and get some sleep!”

Layla was about to go home and get some sleep when she eyed a truck barreling down the road and sliding into a parking spot a few buildings down from the center.

“Lucas…?” She narrowed her eyes.

“Hey! Need a ride?” Rosie asked as she jangled her keys in front of Layla. “I heard you try to call for a ride earlier. Sorry, I’m nosey.” Rosie was a retired Army vet, having served as a medic.

Layla checked her phone. No sign of Paul, and Gretchen was working on a group project that night.

“Are you going by the Meadows Apartments?”

“I am.” Rosie motioned to her car. “Hop in. I go right by.”

“Thank you!” Layla said, relieved.

Rosie smiled as the two women rode off.

“I have to stop by the Post for a minute if that’s okay?” Rosie asked.

Layla froze. Of course she’d have to stop there.

“You can come in with me,” Rosie told her as they pulled into the lot. “They have rules, but I can always bring a plus one here.”

“No, I’m okay.” Layla waved to her. “I won’t bother anyone if I stay out here.”

Rosie nodded. “Suit yourself. I won’t be long.”

Layla waited, dabbling on her phone. She was scrolling when a knock on her window caused her to jump.

“Ahh!” She composed herself when the culprit turned out to be Lucas. ~What?~ she mouthed.

He motioned for her to get out of the car.

“Why?” She shrugged, opening the door and stepping out. “What is it?”

“Are you stalking me?”

“Lucas, I’m with my friend.” She pointed to the front door. “She just went inside.”

Lucas looked confused until a shorter, older woman stepped out of the building and scowled at him.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest.

“Nothing.” Layla waved. “Lucas, this is Rosie. Rosie, this is Lucas.”

Lucas nodded. “How do ya do?”

Rosie smiled. “I’m fine. Nice to meet friends of Layla’s.”

“We’re not friends.” Lucas snorted.

“He’s my parents’ neighbor.”

“Oh, I see.” Rosie pursed her lips together and headed to the driver-side door. “Nice meeting you, Lucas, but I have to get this one home.”

“Seems like you can’t stay away from me,” Lucas grinned, leaning in to whisper in Layla’s ear.

“What happened?” Layla asked, looking at Lucas’s bandaged hand.

“Had a fight with a door,” Lucas told her.

“Door must have won.” Layla rolled her eyes and climbed into the car.

“Smart-ass…,” Lucas mumbled.

She got back out of the car, much to Lucas’s surprise.

“Lucas, I’m not afraid of you. I don’t know you well, but I’ve heard many, ~many~ things over the years, and you’re just a lost soul who needs someone to talk to,” she said. “You could start being more positive about life and stop trying to make people think you’re such a bad guy.”

Lucas chuckled darkly. “Honey, you should be afraid of me. I’m—” He glanced down at her wrists. Black and blue fingerprints.

Stepping back, Lucas scoffed. “Run along, Little Hippie…”

She did. She got back in the car and Rosie drove off, leaving Lucas behind.

~That motherfucker Paul needs his ass kicked,~ Lucas thought to himself. He was so hoping he could be the man who brought the little pipsqueak to his knees.