Chapter 16

LAYLA

I leaned back against the mountain of pillows, my eyelids fluttering closed as exhaustion claimed me.

Bonnie and Blaire were still awake, laughing and carrying on like teenagers. It was hard to believe they were thirty-eight. I was happy to have my own bedroom in the suite.

They were watching a porno! When they invited me to join them, I declined politely, claiming fatigue, which wasn’t a lie.

We had been on the road since six o’clock. Sixteen hours with Briggs’s sisters was enough to put me in a coma. I needed to sleep for sixteen hours to recover.

After the spa, we dined on Korean food. I have no idea what I ate, but it tasted good. So did the alcohol I washed it down with.

~Too good.~

My head was reeling. My phone buzzed. I snatched the handset from the nightstand. It was a text from Briggs. I read his message and giggled.

Briggs

Did you have fun at the lingerie store?

Layla

How do you know about that?

Briggs

You used my credit card.

Layla

Oh right.

Briggs

Do I get to see what you bought?

Layla

Maybe.

Briggs

I’m gonna FaceTime you.

Layla

I can’t do that. My phone is too old.

Briggs

What?! How old is your phone?

Layla

Idk. Really old.

Briggs

I’m gonna call you, then. I wanna hear your voice.

“Hi,” I whispered, answering the instant my phone rang.

“Hi,” he whispered. “Why are we whispering?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are my sisters there?”

“No. I have my own room. They’re watching a movie in the other room.”

“Knowing my sisters, they’re probably watching porn.”

“You would be correct.”

“Did you have a fun day, Layla?”

“I did, but we spent too much money. I didn’t need most of the stuff they bought me.”

“It’s not always about need, sweetheart.”

“I’m going to pay you back, Briggs,” I promised. “You can take it out of my pay.”

“No.”

“Briggs.”

“Layla.”

“They spent thousands of dollars.”

“How was the spa?”

“The spa was—” I paused, thinking about the waxing and the vaginal steaming. I was ~not~ sharing that with Briggs.

I still couldn’t believe I let those bossy Korean ladies talk me into that. I blamed it on the champagne. But I had to admit, my cooter felt great.

“Was?” Briggs prodded.

“It was relaxing.”

“Nice.”

“How are the boys?”

“They’re good. They miss you.”

“How do you know that?” I laughed.

“George told me.”

“Did he now?”

“Yep. He told me he missed Auntie Layla, then he shit himself.”

“You’re full of crap, Briggs.”

“Not me. George. He’s the one who had a massive dump that blew out the side of his diaper.”

“How’s Mary?”

“She’s fine. I think she likes being the only nanny. She’s kind of a control freak.”

“Really?” What if Briggs decided he didn’t need me?

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said.

“You don’t need me.”

“I ~want~ you, Layla,” he said, his husky voice leaving no doubt in my mind about what he wanted me for. And it wasn’t childcare.

My nerve endings sizzled, sending bolts of electricity from my nipples straight down to the freshly steamed peach between my legs.

“What do you want me for?”

~What?~ ~Did I really just ask him that?~

He chuckled, his deep laughter ricocheting through the phone. “Do you really want me to answer that question?”

“I don’t know,” I squeaked.

“What are you wearing?”

“What?”

“You spent five grand at the underwear store. I hope you bought more than bras and panties.”

“~I~ didn’t buy anything. Your sisters picked out a bunch of stuff. They wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“What did you get?”

“Just some nightgowns and stuff,” I said quietly.

“And ~stuff~?”

“Yeah. Things I’ll never wear.”

“We’ll see,” he said. “Are you wearing one of your new nighties right now?”

“Maybe.”

“What color is it?”

“Pink.”

“Nice,” he whispered. “Is it short or long?”

“Short.”

“How short?”

“Barely covers my ass short.”

He didn’t say anything for a bit, but I could hear his heavy breathing.

“Briggs? Are you still there?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he replied. “I’m here.”

“What did you do today?” I asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from my lingerie.

“Does it have lace on it?”

~All righty, then. Back to that.~

“Uh, nope. Not this one.”

“Is it sleeveless?”

“Yeah. It has thin straps.”

“What are you wearing underneath?”

~Whoa. This conversation was heading somewhere X-rated really fast. Good thing I had liquid courage flowing through my veins.~

“Panties.”

“What color?”

“They match the nightie.”

“Nice,” he growled. “Are they lacy?”

“They have some lace on the front.”

~Silence.~

“Briggs?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing?”

“Picturing you in that lingerie, and wishing you were in my bed.”

A surge of heat blasted through my body, soaking my new panties with my arousal.

~Did that whimper come from me?~

“Are you okay?” Briggs chuckled.

“I’m fine. Why?”

“You moaned.”

“I did not.”

“Did so.”

“Are the babies sleeping?”

“Layla,” he warned. “Stop trying to change the subject.”

“I was trying to get you to stop picturing me naked.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Won’t that give you an erection?”

~Ugh. Stop opening your mouth. And never drink alcohol again.~

“I always get a hard-on when I think about you, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Right now, I’m picturing your gorgeous breasts, barely covered by your satin nightie.

“I’d kiss my way down your neck and run my tongue under one of the straps before sliding it off your shoulder. Then I’d do the same thing to the other side.”

I trembled, almost dropping the phone. My body was on fire.

~Oh! Were we about to have phone sex?!~

“Then I’d slide the nightie down, exposing your breasts. I’d cup them in my hands and tease the nipples with my thumbs until they were hard. Are your nipples hard, baby?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“I’d take one of your nipples in my mouth, circle it with my tongue and lick it. Then I’d suck it. I might even bite it.”

“Y-you want to ~bite~ me?” I gasped.

“Gently, baby. You’d like it.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do.”

“Okay then.”

“Layla?”

“Yes?”

“Are you wet?”

“W-what?”

“Are your panties wet, baby?”

~Dripping!~

But I wasn’t about to share that with my ~boss.~

~He wants to fuck you, dummy. Who cares if he’s your boss? It’s Briggs Westinghouse.~

“Layla?”

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Which one?”

“Can I ask you something really personal?”

“More personal than your last question?”

“The one you didn’t answer?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you touching yourself right now?”

“No!”

“Do you ever touch yourself?”

“Well, yeah,” I said, laughing nervously. “I wash myself from time to time.”

“Layla, you know what I’m asking you.”

“If you’re asking me if I masturbate, the answer is no.”

“Have you ever had an orgasm?”

“No.”

I swore I heard him curse under his breath. But I was half in the bag, so I wasn’t certain.

“What did you have for dinner?” he asked.

“Uh, some Korean food.”

“Was it good?”

“Yeah. I guess we’re done with the phone sex, then?”

“I want you with me when you have your first orgasm. And it’s going to be my hand delivering it, not yours.”