Chapter 2

7 1/2 weeks earlier

She was sitting in her moon chair, staring out the window into the night sky, her eyes puffy and brimming with moisture. That was it. The last straw. First, he'd set Cristian up to lose the title match while playing everybody, including her, for a fool with his fake sincerity about Cris' boxing future. Then he'd had some strange, unexplained fascination with Natalie Buchanan. Next it was accusing Cris of arsons those racist bastards who put her sister in a coma were responsible for. So why did she give him another chance? She sighed. Vincent was beautiful on the outside and could be so sweet when he wanted to be. Cris had forgiven him and let all the anger go because that was just how Cris was. And after Evangeline had gone comatose, Vincent had been there for her. He had promised her that if she needed anything, anything at all, he'd be there for her. And he meant it. Sure, she had Adriana and Cris but her sister wasn't the easiest subject to converse with them about considering Adriana would fight to the death for her cousin and Evangeline had hurt him terribly. Neither Cris nor Adriana had given her any indication that she couldn't talk with them about Evangeline but she tried not to speak about her too much in their presence unless they broached the subject. While Cris would never say a bad word about Evangeline, she felt he had to feel at least some resentment towards her. Being cheated on with the likes of Todd Manning had to hurt. Even a regular jackass would feel insulted about that one and Cristian was as far from a jackass as a man could be.

During one of Vincent's visits to check up on her, he had planted one of those soul-searing kisses on her that had made her forget her name and her mama's, and it had marked a return to their romance. Things had been going well until Natalie Buchanan broke her nail. Okay, not exactly. She'd been trying to run Buchanan Enterprises after Asa's passing and was having more than a little bit of trouble with her lack of experience and a bitter twin sister sabotaging her at every turn. So off went Vincent Jones to the rescue. Cue super-hero music. Try as she might, Layla couldn't even be mad at the redhead. Natalie didn't ask Vincent for any help--he ran to help as fast as his skinny little chicken legs could carry him as soon as he got wind of her troubles. Layla had shrugged it off until she walked in on them taking care of some business. And not the kind that involved phones, computers, and ledgers, although it did involve a desk. Burning with anger and determined not to cry, she had turned and quickly left, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh making her stomach turn. Thinking better of it and feeling the need to lash out, she had decided to give them the shock of their horny little lives. Quietly, she had opened the door again, grabbed the glass vase on the end table by the entryway, and threw it against the wall in their direction as hard as she could so that it shattered into a million pieces and startled the hell out of them, watching the look of horror on their faces as they scrambled to face the direction from which the glass had been thrown. It was nothing short of a Kodak moment. Satisfied, she turned and left and went home to her empty apartment.

As she sat in her chair facing the window, her mind raced with thoughts of how she was going to make him pay. She saw herself in Angela Bassett's place as his clothes burned on his car behind her. She saw herself in Kathy Bates' place as she broke Vincent's two little twigs in half. She saw herself as Lorena Bobbitt as she...Nah. She wasn't that crazy.

She heard a knock at the door. Who the hell is that? It's 9 o'clock. Not in the mood to be bothered with anyone and fearing it was Vincent, who she was afraid she'd do some serious physical harm to, she ignored the knocking.

"Layla? I see your car outside. You in there?" The knocking continued.

It was Cristian. And he sounded exhausted. Even through the door she could tell. She sighed wondering if she should answer it. Forget it. He saw my car so he knows I'm in here. Climbing off the purple and green chair, she quickly grabbed a few more tissues and turned on the light in her bedroom and stepped to the mirror to check her appearance. Yeah, she looked like hell. Cris was going to ask what was wrong. Damn. She flipped off the light.

"Layla?" Cristian was starting to worry. He knew Adriana was out of town tying up loose ends in their sale of Exposed. The thrill of the company had left them both when they realized they'd had a KKK baseball player modeling their underwear. Is she in the bathroom? At a neighbor's? Something worse? Wait, she's probably at Vincent's. Maybe he picked her up. Wanting to make sure so that he didn't regret leaving later on, he took his cell phone out of his pocket and started to roam through the list of recent calls in search of her number when the door opened.

"Hey. Sorry it took me so long." She looks like hell. And that's not an easy feat, he thought as the already present worry lines deepened in his forehead.

He looks like hell. And that's not easy for him, she thought as she took in his appearance. He looked like his world had fallen apart. "What's wrong?"

"I was about to ask you the same question." Not waiting for an invitation, he stepped inside the apartment and closed and locked the door behind him as Layla walked over to sit on the couch. He took a seat on the coffee table facing her. "Talk to me."

Layla shook her head slightly and looked away as tears threatened to fall again. Needing to change the subject before she fell apart, she turned to him and told him, "You first."

Cris stared at her unwaveringly, his look intense with concern. Knowing she was trying not to fall apart, he decided to tell her his reason for stopping by so late so she could compose herself. Then he would get her to tell him who had upset her so he could have some words with said person. "I forgot earlier. I wanted to bring you the key to my place so you can keep an eye on it for me while I'm gone." Layla already knew Antonio and Talia had taken Carlotta to Miami for a funeral.

Relieved he was taking the conversation elsewhere, she remembered his trip to New York City that was scheduled for tomorrow morning. "Oh, I completely forgot. Are you excited?" A genuine smile brightened her features.

Cristian immediately broke eye contact with her and glanced down at the carpet, his expression becoming more troubled. "I'm not going to New York." He sighed and stood up, strolling over to the sliding glass door leading to the balcony. She had left the curtain open even though it was nighttime and anybody and their mama could see inside because she had been too upset upon entering her apartment to notice. She rose from the couch and walked to stand behind him. Continuing cautiously and speaking softly, she asked, "What happened?"

He leaned with one hand on the glass door and the other on his hip. He was wearing unfaded black jeans and a crisp, white button-down shirt rolled up to the elbows. Since it was the first day of September, it was still warm enough to warrant short sleeves. He took his hand from the door and turned around to face her, sighing deeply. "They canceled it. Just like that." He placed both hands on his hips and rocked on his heels, face turned downwards, jaw twitching.

"What?" Layla didn't know what to say. He'd finally been able to express himself on canvas in a way that wasn't hindered by his injured right hand and had been more excited than she'd ever seen him. Not long ago, Lindsey had gotten him into contact with a buyer in New York wanting to give him his own show at a world-renowned gallery. It was the first real commission he'd gotten in years and he was like a kid in a candy store in his studio as he worked on new pieces.

Cris shrugged and crossed his arms as he finally met her concerned eyes again. "Lindsey called a few hours ago. Said his assistant left a message for her saying it wasn't going to happen."

"Cris..." she shook her head slowly. "I'm so sorry." She met his defeated eyes once more, his expression tearing at her heartstrings.

He sighed. "Anyway, I need to get away for awhile, clear my head. I booked a flight to Puerto Rico for tomorrow morning instead." He smiled wistfully. "It's been so long since I've been there. Home." His smile quickly faded. "Not much for me here right now." Layla felt a pang in her stomach at the thought of him leaving. Where did that come from? She felt awful for him. He had been through so damn much over the last few years she didn't know how he was still standing. She had never asked him about the year he was missing nor the time he spent in prison. She briefly wondered if he had ever opened up to anyone about it. One thing was for sure: this latest setback was yet another door slammed shut in his face after years of struggle and it broke her heart. He didn't deserve it. Damn, he didn't deserve it at all. She didn't want to see him break but the look in his eyes made her feel as though he might be nearing his breaking point. Any other man would have reached his long ago.

Clearing the thoughts from his mind, his brow furrowed with concern again. "So. You going to tell me what happened?" Her mouth fell open slightly as she remembered what she saw at BE today. She turned away from him and fought the tears again. Shit, they weren't stopping. Her shoulders shook as she gave up the battle with her disobedient tear ducts. Cristian approached her from behind and rubbed her shoulders, waiting for her to speak. When she didn't, he decided to probe. "Did something happen with Vincent?"

Damn shame he knows. He ought to know about Vincent and his ways. Cristian's hands fell from her shoulders as she turned around to face him, wiping the tears from her eyes. Clearing her throat, she decided to just spill it. "I walked in on Vincent and Natalie playing hide the beef jerky on her desk." Under any other circumstances, Cristian would have laughed at her referring to Vincent's dick as a prick. Instead, he wrapped his huge arms around her and rubbed her back in comforting concentric circles. Feeling inexplicably safer than she'd ever felt in a very long time, Layla couldn't fight the wave of hurt and anger engulfing her and the emotions released themselves by way of her tears. That's it, Cristian thought. I'm going to kick his fucking ass.

After several minutes, Layla, with her head still on his chest, continued, "What is wrong with me? What THE HELL is wrong with me??" She continued sobbing. "Why did I fall for it again?"

Cristian held her even tighter, rubbing her back again, hating Vincent for making her cry. He could not stand seeing a woman cry, especially not one who was too pretty not to be kept smiling and happy. "He's a jackass, Layla. Don't ever blame yourself for the actions of jackasses. The only thing "wrong" with you is you have a big heart. A beautiful corazon. People like him like to take advantage of that. But when you have a heart like that, they can never break your spirit. Never."

His words touched her heart. Why did he have to be so wonderful? How could anyone possibly ever hurt him? Why was his life dealing him blow after blow? She pulled her head from his chest and looked into his eyes, not breaking their embrace. His soul was as beautiful as the vessel that housed it. Immediately, she hated the buyer in New York for trying to break his spirit and wished she had the power to make every dream he'd ever had come true. She shook her head back and forth once, not being able to stop the words threatening to tumble from her mouth. "How come I never meet any guys as wonderful as you?"

His heart swelled with the compliment and he stared deeply into her eyes. Bringing his right hand up to wipe the tears from the left side of her face, he wanted nothing more than to take her pain away. Her eyes were beckoning him, drawing him into the deep confines of her soul, and he found himself losing his grip on proper friendship etiquette. He wanted to make her feel better. He needed to make her feel better. She was as beautiful inside as she was out. She needed to know that. The pain he saw in her eyes from years of bad relationships was tearing him apart. Then, his thinking stopped.

Her thinking stopped.

All thinking ceased as he bent closely to her face and lightly brushed his lips against hers. Heart pounding in her chest, she opened her mouth slightly and latched onto his full bottom lip. Following her lead, Cristian pushed her lips further apart with his and deepened their kiss, his tongue hesitatingly finding hers as he brought his hands up to cup her face. This wasn't the time for thinking; they needed to feel. The kiss became more sensual as their tongues found a natural rhythm and sensations they'd never felt for one another before shot to places that were begging for attention. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled her tongue from inside his mouth, deciding to run it along his lips before entering his mouth again.

She needed to feel him. Right now. As if sensing her need, Cristian pulled her lower body tightly against and broke their kiss, looking into her eyes. Missing the contact with his upper half, Layla parted his lips once again with hers, moaning as her tongue nestled comfortably inside his mouth again. Her fingers found the buttons on his shirt, hastily pulling it apart as quickly as she possibly could. Sliding it off his shoulders, he shook it off allowing it to fall to the floor. Immediately, he lifted her off of her feet with his large hands around her waist and she wrapped her legs around his torso, never breaking their kiss.

He quickly carried her into her bedroom, the moonlight streaming through the open window. Her legs still wrapped around his waist and her lips still attached to his, he climbed onto her bed on his knees and moved forward until they reached the center of the green and purple comforter. Laying her on her back, Layla unwrapped her legs from around his waist as he released her mouth and initiated a sensual assault on her neck, his hands sliding beneath her taupe camisole to take it off. She lifted her arms above her head and raised her upper body off the bed just enough for him to take the garment off. He resumed working on her neck with his mouth while his hands slid beneath her and unfastened her bra. Pulling it off, he kissed her lips again and brought his hands up to fondle her breasts. Using his thumbs, he circled each nipple repeatedly simultaneously, her moans of pleasure into his mouth turning him on even more. Needing to catch his breath, Cristian tore his mouth away from hers and slid down her body to unbutton her pants. He pulled them off, tossing them onto the floor, followed quickly by her panties. Needing to be released from the confines of his own jeans, he backed off of the bed completely and quickly removed his pants, black boxer briefs, black boots and socks. Watching him unabashedly, she felt her carnal desire for him spill over. Damn he was fine. And it was so not true what they said about very muscularly built men packing little below the waist. So. Not. True. Climbing back onto the bed and up her body, Cris paused at her breasts and laved his tongue around her right one before moving to her left. As he suckled and tongued her left nipple, he brought his left hand up to rub her right between his thumb and index finger while his right thumb slid down her wet slit, finding her clit. Oh yes, the man was coordinated. Her body twitched under his ministrations and her moans threatened to alert the entire building to what she was doing while her roommate was out of town. Slipping his middle finger inside of her, he pulled away from her breasts and watched her face as it contorted in response to his actions. His slipped his index finger inside her as well and continued to slide them in and out. In and out. In. And. Out. Faster. Slower. Faster. Slower. Slower. Slower.

She couldn't take it anymore. The teasing. How was he hitting just the right spot? How did he know? She arched her back and panted, knowing she was about to explode in any second and wanting to feel him inside of her before it all ended. "Cris," she hissed. "Cris, hurry. Hurry." Pulling his fingers out of her, he climbed back on top of her and ravished her mouth as he positioned himself at her entrance. He rubbed the head of his penis against her wet opening, driving her completely insane. "Mmmmm, Cris. Now. Please. Now!" She gasped as he granted her wishes and slowly entered her, not wanting to hurt her. He busied himself sucking her neck while he waited for her body to adjust to his girth. It didn't take long before he felt her squeezing her walls around him, the feeling almost making his cum far too soon. Slowly, he moved in and out. In and out. His breath quickened as he increased his pace, her fingers digging into his back, her cries of pleasure and his low moans reverberating around the room. Faster. Faster. Deeper. Deeper. Over and over and over and over.

Finally, her body had had its fill and she cried out as the orgasm made every nerve in her extremities tingle and her body shake. Following her lead, Cristian reached his plateau and collapsed on top of her body, heaving as he waited for the stars to clear from his vision...