She studied him a moment before she said softly, “Then you’re going to have to suck it up, Layne.”

Layne’s brows knitted. “Come again?”

“Earlier tonight, you told me you fucked up with your boys. Now, Gabrielle has done it. Everyone knows Stew’s a jerk, she knows it too, deep down. She knows she’s fucked up, bringing Stew into her sons’ life not to mention bringing him into hers. I don’t want to sound like a bitch, but all this boils down to her and the decisions she’s made. She’s the kind of person who has to take that out on someone, even if it’s unreasonable because that someone was only trying to look out for her and their kids, then that someone, namely you, is going to have to suck it up.”

He grinned at her. “Not sure you got much of a flair for reassurance, sweetcheeks.”

Rocky grinned back. “Sorry, did I miss that part of my job description?”

“Skipped right by it, baby.”

“I’ll take time tomorrow to review it,” she told him.

“That’d be appreciated.”

The grin changed to the point he got the dimple and Layne gave himself a moment to enjoy lying in bed facing Rocky and her dimple before he said softly, “I watch Letterman, baby, you gonna be able to sleep through that?”

The dimple faded and her face changed, showing him a hint of fear before she got her shields up and nodded and, if she hadn’t changed, she wasn’t lying. She went to bed at ten but Layne didn’t so it was more accurate to say she went to sleep at ten because most of the time she was stretched out on the couch with Layne watching TV and she fell asleep while he kept watching it. If she was really out, he’d carry her to bed but most of the time, when he moved, she woke up enough to stumble to their room, pull off her clothes, tug on one of his tees, collapse into bed and fall straight back to sleep.

“Pass me the remote,” Layne ordered and she rolled, coming back to him, she handed him the remote.

Then she stayed where she was, head in hand but her eyes directed down her body toward the TV. Layne rolled to his back and sat up, lifting his legs, whipping the covers out from under him and settling back against the headboard.

Layne changed the channel finding a crime drama. He watched it then watched the News then watched Letterman.

Jas was home five minutes into the drama.

Tripp hit his bedroom fifteen minutes into it, Jasper following him half an hour later.

Rocky was asleep after ten minutes of the drama.

Layne fell asleep after trying to find it for half an hour after Letterman.

* * *

Now he was awake to find Rocky had moved during the night and she’d pinned him to the bed.

They’d both set a record. It took him one night to get used to it and it took her one night to break out of sleeping in her tight, guarded ball and sprawl.

He turned his head to the side to look at the clock and he saw that his dream Rocky had given him plenty of time.

So Layne turned into his real Rocky, wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her up his body. She released a sleepy mew and Layne lifted his head then buried his face in her neck.

He could smell a hint of her perfume.

He kissed her neck and then touched it with his tongue, sliding it up to right under her ear, liking the taste of her.

Her body started to come alert in his arms so he touched his tongue to her earlobe then moved his lips along her jaw then up, to her mouth.

Her head tipped back and her voice was drowsy when she whispered, “Layne?”

That was when Layne slanted his head and kissed her. He started soft until he felt her hands light on the skin of his chest. Then he touched his tongue to her lips and her hands slid up to curl on his shoulders. He touched his tongue to her lips again, her mouth opened, Layne slid his tongue inside and the tips of her fingers dug into his shoulders as she made another mew, this one not sleepy.

At the sound of it, the feel of it against his tongue, what it meant and what it was doing to his body, he rolled her to her back and then he kissed her.

Rocky tied herself up with him instantly, tangling her legs with his, winding her arms around his shoulders, one hand sifting in his hair, the other one drifting down his back and she let him kiss her, her back arching, her mouth unbelievably generous.

His hands moved, up her t-shirt and in, skin on skin, her body warm from his and being cocooned in his bed, her skin soft, she pressed up into him and moved one arm down, shoving it under his so she could reach more of his back and she did, her fingers trailing. Layne’s hand went down to her ass, cupping her and pulling her into his hard cock and her fingers trailing the skin of his back became nails dragging against it.

Hot.

He stopped kissing her to mutter, “Yeah, baby,” against her mouth and her reply was simply a breathy, “Layne.”

For some reason, hearing her say his name like that, in that voice, her body soft and warm under him, Layne suddenly lost control. His hands in her shirt pulled it up and he didn’t even notice her arms were already lifted by the time he got it over her head. He tossed it aside and went back to her, kissing her, harder, taking more and he got it, she gave it to him and he knew Rocky had lost control too. He knew this because her hands were urgent on his skin, both of them, moving, pressing in, fingers, nails, then down, sliding inside the waistband of his pajamas then across, then up, down, then inside and the fingers of both her hands curled into the muscles of his ass as her hips pushed up, her back arching, her soft tits pressing into his chest.

 “Fuck,” he muttered against her mouth then moved down her chest, not taking his time, his hands slid up her sides and he palmed one of her breasts then cupped it, lifted it, his mouth fastened around it, he took a second to swirl his tongue around her rock hard nipple before he sucked it deep.

Her back left the bed and she fed herself deeper into his mouth as he heard a low, deep moan glide up her throat.

Fucking hell. Beautiful.

His other hand cupped her other breast, thumb sliding across the nipple then tweaking, rolling as he pulled hard with his mouth on the other and Rocky’s hands roamed on him, searching, clearly desperate, one moved around the front and curled tight around his cock.

That felt so good, Layne groaned against her nipple and her back arched again, her hand tightening, she stroked him and pulled him closer at the same time, telling him she wanted more.

He let her go and pulled himself up her body, one arm wrapping around her hips, the other hand trailing down her belly, she stroked his cock and his mouth hit hers.

“You ready?” he asked and she arched her neck. “Baby?” he called, his fingertips sliding into the top of her panties, happy to find out for himself when her body locked, her hand left his cock and shot to his wrist, wrapping around.

“No,” she whispered, she tucked her chin down and pulled his hand up her belly. “I’m sorry.”

He tugged his wrist from her fingers and slid it along her waist, rolling her with him to take them to their sides.

“That’s okay, honey.”

She tucked her face into his throat and nestled into his body, repeating on a whisper, “Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Rocky, baby, that’s okay.”

Both her hands were on his chest and he felt her fingers curl in so they were held in light fists against his skin.

He kept one arm wrapped tight around her, her body close, and his other hand slid into her hair, the ponytail holder still in it, he gently yanked it out, tossed it to the bed and started to run his fingers through her hair.

When her fists didn’t loosen, he asked gently, “You all right?”

“I’m sorry, Layne,” she repeated.

“Baby, I said it’s okay.”

She pressed her face into his throat and then said so softly he barely heard her, “I’m on my period.”

His hand cupped her head, his arm gave her a squeeze and he understood.

She grew up with two men and no Mom at one of those times when a girl really needed her Mom. She had therefore guarded that fact of nature from the men in her house like it was a State secret. She did the same when she’d first moved in with Layne. Clearly, she’d not moved beyond this which, he had to admit, caused him some uneasiness because she was now thirty-eight years old, she’d spent ten years living with a medical doctor and it was a goddamned fact of nature.

On the other hand, he was fucking thrilled she’d stopped the proceedings because she was on her period and not because she didn’t want them to continue. Not to mention the fact that she’d cuddled into him afterward instead of throwing a conniption fit, bolting from bed, getting dressed and stomping from the house.

Layne didn’t respond and started sifting his fingers through her hair again. He did this until her fists uncurled and her hands rested flat against his chest.

Finally, he whispered, “You gotta get up, Rocky.”

“Yeah,” she whispered back.

“Jas bought you a toothbrush. I’ll bring it up.”

For some reason, her body locked and her hands moved quickly to his shoulders, fingers pressing in as her head tipped back, taking her face out of his throat.

“Jasper bought me a toothbrush?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Layne answered.

Her voice had changed, a lot, when she said, “Layne.”

He grinned in the dark and replied, “I’ll go get it.”

Her fingers curled deeper and she repeated, “Layne.”

“Rocky, you need to get a move on.”