Page 2 of Brock
“I’m Layla.”
“Like the song,” he says.
“What song?”
He shakes his head. “Never mind.” He gives me back my hand. Takes another sip of his coffee. Pretends like he’s deciding what to do. “I’m Brock. And, yeah, I’ll let you buy me breakfast. But that don’t mean I’m gonna buy what you’re selling. Just means I ain’t ready to throw you out on your ass…yet.”
2
Brock
Pancakes. Bacon. Coffee. All of them in front of me, and all of them delicious. But none of them quite as delicious as Layla.
“You see,” she scoops some pancakes into her mouth. Maple syrup falls from her fork onto her plate. Thick and runny and it makes me think of her naked and covered in oil. “I work for a film company. My director, he thinks the Bluff will be the perfect place for us to film our big finale.”
“No chance.”
She puts her cutlery on the table. I don’t even stop chewing. If I look at her anymore my erection’s likely to drill a hole in the table.
“And why is that?”
I take a large sip of my coffee and wash down the delicious sweet food. “Because Bellamy’s Bluff is on my land. And there’s no way in hell I’m letting a load of Hollywood assholes trample all over the place. They’ll scare off the animals and ruin the wildlife. What with their porta potties and their trailers and cables and God knows what else.”
“We could make it worth your while?”
She batters her eyelids and leans forward across the table. Her impressive cleavage sends all the blood in my body straight to my cock.
I grind my teeth, clench my hands. It’s all I can do to resist the urge to pull her across my lap and teach her a lesson.
“Layla,” I growl. “You may think I’m just some dumb yokel, but I am in fact a successful fucking author. I’m the biggest god damn landowner in a thousand square miles. I have more fucking money than I know what to do with, and there ain’t nothing you or your bosses could dream up that would ‘make it worth my while’. All I want is to be left alone. I lead a simple life. And I like it that way. I come down here every morning. I have breakfast. I read. I write. I go out in the forest with my dog or with my horse. I hunt for the meat I eat. I chop the wood I use to heat my cabin. The idea of having movie stars and assistant producers and cameramen and chefs and make-up artists and god knows who else swarming over my land makes my blood boil. My advice to you is to turn around and go home. If you start driving now, you might get to the airport before it’s dark.”
I stand up and throw some money on the table. It’s only when I look her in the face, that I realize I was being so harsh.
I’m not used to being in the company of people. Especially ones so damn fucking beautiful. I should have bitten my tongue. I could have let her down more gently.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to bite your head off. You’re only doing your job. I get that. More power to you. I’m just an ornery old man who’s spent too long on his own.”
“You’re not that old.”
“Compared to you, I am.”
She bites her bottom lip and looks up at me. I wish I hadn’t stood up. My erection’s pressing against my jeans and I imagine everyone in the diner must be able to see it.
“Can you take me up there anyway?” she asks. “It seems a waste to come all this way and not see it. I’ve heard it’s breathtaking.”
“It sure is.”
“So you’ll take me?”
I mull the idea over in my head.
On the one hand, I want to get back to my writing.
But on the other, spending a day with this smoking hot woman sure would be nice.
“Fine.” I look at my watch. “You meet me here in the morning. Early. Five o’clock. I’ll take you up there for sunrise. It’s the best time of day to be there.”
She puts out her hand. For the second time this morning, I shake it. Touch her smooth, soft skin. Imagine what it would be like to have her fingers gripping my cock as my tongue invades her mouth.
