Chapter 6: "Can we just enjoy this moment, Ryan?"

Layla's pov.

I am not a fan of alcohol. 

Never was, at least not before I married my late husband. He always went to these events, meetings that I had to escort him to and they never served strawberry juice for some reason. I eventually got used to the Champagnes and wines they served and soon…  I found that I craved them and needed them to go through life being married to a man that thought it okay to pimp me out to his friends

A surge of anger overtakes me in that moment and I physically shake my head to smooth out my emotions.  

I want to lose myself for a while.

I sway my hips to the sweet sensual music playing from the old music box, following the flow and beat of the alcohol now in my system, letting loose as much as I can.

Tears run down my cheeks as the memories I try to keep at bay force their way through the walls I carefully built a long time ago. This was supposed to be my big break, the opportunity to get out of a house that has done nothing but scar me in the last five years but no, I can't leave because of him.

I hate him.

My inner voice yells those words, anger coating her tone. My chest shudders furiously as my sour emotions leave a sting in my cheeks.

How dare he try to take away my freedom!

How dare he try to keep me locked in here!

I take a gulp of my drink, draining the glass cup instantly, desperately. I need to lose myself, just a little bit more. 

I turn around to refill my cup but stop dead in my tracks when I find Ryan in the doorway staring at me with a predatory gaze, looking about ready to pounce on me.

My chin raises in defiance in response even though I feel anything but defiant.

Why is it so hard for him to let me be?

Why can't he just leave me alone?

My throat tightens as the emotions thicken. I want to cry or yell or scream but I don't. Why? because it won't help. He takes his seat on the couch close to the living room and continues to watch me with ravenous hunger in his eyes. 

My first instinct is to leave but I can't do that, at least not yet. So instead, I go back to pouring myself another drink and dancing after changing the song on my phone to a more upbeat one.

ABBA’s “Dancing Girl” comes on and I feel a part of me shudder in joy and relief at it.,

My dancing is more natural, more blind swaying, more slightly provocative than before and I can feel Ryan's eyes boring into my back as I let the music and alcohol fully dictate my movements.

Not five seconds into my new song,  I  feel Ryan's strong hands wrap around my waist, pulling me flush against him.

I should be put off by his touch, irritated even but all I can feel is desire. He is only holding my waist but I can almost feel his hands rubbing against my inner thigh.

My wolf scolds me but my body preaches a different gospel as she grinds up against him provocatively and needy. I let his hands guide and control my movements because it is too much work to deny our body the synchrony it craves.

"You want me," Ryan says in a hoarse voice in my ears.

 He dances smoothly and My only response is taking a giant swig of my wine. There’s no need to acknowledge his statement. 

It will only make it more true.

Ryan spins me around when he doesn't get an answer, bringing me to look at him and I am in shock of what his eyes carry, pure unadulterated lust and desire.

He grabs me flush against him all of a sudden and I welcome his familiar woody scent involuntarily even though I shouldn't.

"You dance like you mean to destroy a man." He whispers into my ears.

I peer up at him with hooded eyes, my response drunk and slurry. 

"Do I?"

Oddly that sounds like the most seductive tone I can muster. Ryan nods.

"I think you know it, " he brings us closer together even as the song blows out almost chaotically in the background.

"I think you are in denial of what you want, Layla.  Your body yearns for mine.”

He leans in even more, “Give it up already." 

The next song that comes on is Sia’s Candy Cane Lane and I chuckle, smiling as the song blares.

*Maybe, maybe not."

"Don't toy with me, Layla."

Ryan groans low and soft, his voice whispery like he's trying to restrain himself.

I answer slyly even though I can feel his words straight at the juncture of my inner thigh,

"I would never." 

I bat my lashes at Ryan, my eyes peering up at him in innocence. He grabs me by the waist and then tilts my chin up to look at him. My eyes are directly boring into his.

"You have no idea what I want to do to you, Layla."

Ryan’s heavy breath fans my face as his lips are barely a breath away from mine.

"Would you like some wine?" I ask, trying my best to distract him or maybe myself from being pulled in by his seduction.

"Sure." He answers after a beat with a self-assured smirk.

I nod and pull away from him. The music changes to a more dancehall song as I fill both out glasses with a generous amount of wine.

I feel his eyes on me throughout the process.

I walk over to him and hand one to him and he takes it with a small smirk playing on his lips.

We both take a sip at the same time and I turn around, my back to him again as we continue to move to the music like what happened just didn’t.

Ryan hovers just behind me, his breath almost on my neck, the heat radiating off him addictive. I let him even though I want to scream for him to stop. My body is betraying me, begging for me to let him take me, but I can't. 

I still bear the wounds of my marriage to his father.

"Can we just enjoy this moment, Ryan?" I ask politely.

Ryan says nothing for a while, his answer comes almost reluctant,

"Yeah, sure we can." then more thoughtfully, "we can."

He pulls away from me a few minutes later and walks over to the counter to pour himself another glass of wine. He saunters towards me again.

My heart counts down the seconds.

Ryan pauses for a second as if hit by something, his eyes glaze over, he sways lightly and without any warning, he falls to the ground. The red liquid spills as the sound of glass breaking fills my ears and I hear Ryan’s slow breathing.

The way he tries to move but his body doesn’t obey him as it once would.

Wiping the tears staining my cheeks, I run to his side before his guards can come in and search for the key he always has on him. I find it in record time and shove it in my jeans pocket.