Page 45 of Highest Bid

Aiden blinked. “He did?”

Liam looked away with a furrowed brow, his seeming unease spiking Layla’s insecurity and doubts.

She pushed her chicken pasta aside. “There is no family emergency, is there?”

Aiden sent her a reassuring smile. “Galan takes on a lot by himself without our knowledge. Who knows what it is this time.”

Liam exhaled, his eyes meeting hers once again when he added, “You put yourself out there when you got up on the auction stage, don’t give up on him now.”

Aiden chuckled before conceding, “And I’d hate to lose the bet I made with Liam that our brother would fall for you.”

Layla gaped. “You made a bet on your brother and me?”

Aiden didn’t even bother to look sheepish when he nodded and said, “I’ve known for a while now Galan had feelings for you; he just refused to acknowledge them.”

Liam shrugged. “And I thought Galan would stubbornly continue to ignore his feelings. But I’ll gladly lose our bet if he finds happiness. I’ve never seen him smile so much as he has this last week.”

Layla wasn’t sure whether to be charmed or even more anxious by their words. They were doing their best to bolster her, but since Galan’s only family was his two brothers, it was clear there was no real emergency.

Colleen approached the brothers’ table and took their drink orders, before she glanced at Layla’s still-full plate and asked, “Is everything okay with your meal?”

Layla managed a smile. “Of course, I’ve just...lost my appetite. Would you mind putting it in a takeout container for me?”

“Sure,” Colleen said, as if nothing was now too much trouble. The waitress retrieved Layla’s plate, all the while casting sidelong glances toward the bar where Billy sat, eyeing her right back.

His blue eyes twinkled with obvious interest, like his blinkers had been ripped off, and he was only now seeing the possibility that’d been right in front of him the whole time.

Layla sighed as Colleen all but jigged back to the thatched hut. How quickly things could change. And though she was glad for them both, she couldn’t help but now second-guess her own relationship with Galan.

Layla dragged her feet as she walked home, took the elevator, before unlocking the front door of her apartment and stepping inside. She couldn’t face being in Galan’s apartment alone, drumming her fingers, waiting for him to return. Better to surround herself with her own things, not everything that reminded her of the man with secrets.

Placing the container of chicken pasta in her fridge, she took a quick shower and changed into one of the scanty bits of lingerie she’d impulsively bought. Not that anyone would see the sheer white baby-doll sleepwear, or her crotchless lace panties.

Still, she felt sexy and bold, and oddly liberated as she stared at herself in the mirror. She released the pins in her hair, and watched as it slid out of its confinement and fell down her back in an inky cascade.

That Galan loved her hair made her appreciate it in a whole new way. Her lips twitched. She was just as certain he’d love the way her dark hair contrasted to her white negligee.

His loss.

She slid between the cool sheets of her bed, and decided sleep would never come with all the unanswered questions circling in her mind like vultures. Yet the moment her eyelids slid closed, darkness soon after claimed her.

Minutes—hours?—later, she rolled onto her stomach with a soft moan, and squeezed her eyes closed. She refused to wake when blistering hot dreams filled her sleep.

Her hair was brushed aside, a warm breath fanning her nape, as practiced lips pressed even warmer kisses to her cool skin. Those same kisses continued lower down her spine, pressing through the transparent material of her sleepwear, big hands kneading her lower back, until one hand caressed her further down and deftly found the opening of her panties.

A finger flicked her swollen clit, and her moans became gasps at the electric charge fizzing through her. Another flick, another gasp, before the finger slid deep inside.

Oh, yes!

She pushed back, needing more, needing to be filled and fucked.

The finger withdrew...then plunged deeper still, before another finger joined the first, setting up a rhythm that left her close to sobbing happy tears.

Best. Dream. Ever.

Then the bed shifted, weight pressing down the mattress. Her pulse kicked into another gear, and she cracked open an eye before twisting her head. “Galan?” she breathed out.

The shadowy dream figure was real. She knew it was Galan even before he leaned over her, and his voice growled close to her ear, “I can’t hold back tonight. I need this too fucking much, need you too much.” The head of his cock pushed insistently between her thighs. “I’m not going to be gentle, firecracker.”

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