Handsome Devil: A Hero Club Novel
Handsome Devil: Chapter 9

Sleep doesn’t come easy. The car gets cold, and no matter how close I hold Laila, I keep worrying she’ll freeze. When really she seems to be sleeping just fine. She doesn’t shiver or move much at all once she drifts off on my arm. At some point in the night, she moves to my chest, and I hold her there with one of her legs draped over mine.

Before the sun rises, I’m suddenly pulled out of my dream by a feeling of warmth and pleasure. She’s shifting…a lot. Her leg can’t seem to get comfortable as it runs up and down my body, so I quickly snatch it with my hand, afraid she feels my aching morning wood.

My eyes pop open to replace her staring at me with her lip bitten between her teeth.

“Good morning,” she says, fighting my hold. This girl is going to be the death of me.

“Laila,” I say in warning. Feeling her hands on my body makes last night feel like a dream. Fuck, did I really do that?

A groan emits from my chest. What is wrong with me? This is my daughter’s friend. I’m here to show my daughter I can be a good father. I can take care of her and do what’s right, and here I am, finger fucking her friend in a broken down car in the middle of nowhere.

Laila hums against my cheek as her lips trail down to my neck. Then her hand slides down my chest until she breezes over my cock, and I forget every thought in my head.

“The mechanic should be open.”

“It’s only seven,” she croons as presses her palm harder over the bulge in my jeans. “We have time for another lesson.”

“Jesus Christ,” I moan, and before I know it, she has my zipper down and her warm hand circles my dick, squeezing tight and nearly making my eyes slide to the back of my head.

My brain is no longer in charge. It’s just my cock now, and it doesn’t give a shit about a broken down car and the mechanic’s hours. She strokes so perfectly, running her hand over the top and all the way down to the base.

“That’s perfect, Laila,” I mumble.

She hums in response. I’m shameless, but I can’t stop her now. It’s all too good.

“You made me feel so good last night,” she whispers. “I want to do the same for you.”

There’s a wave of heat cascading through my body as she says that. The reminder of how she sounded as she came echoes in my mind, and I’m digging my hand in her hair, pulling her close to kiss her neck as her strokes pick up speed.

Then she screams.

I jump up, my body going cold. “What is it?”

She’s staring in horror at the window just as I hear a tapping against the glass.

“Please step out of the car.” All I see is black through the fog, but it’s undeniably a police officer.

“Oh fuck,” I blurt out, quickly pulling Laila’s hand out of my pants and stuffing my dick back in.

“Oh my God,” Laila whines, hiding her face in the blankets.

In a rush, I jump out of the car and greet the man, standing in front of his patrol car.

“I’m so sorry, officer. You see, we got a flat on the freeway, and without a motel nearby, we just needed to get a couple hours of rest before the auto shop opens.” I’m stammering, and the man with gray hair and a paunch belly just stares at me with a tired, bored expression.

Just then Laila steps out of the car. The officer’s eyes linger a little too long on her as she shuffles awkwardly, holding her arms tight across her chest to ward off the cold. Then he glances at me and gives me a quick eyebrow raise that makes me want to punch him in his ugly fucking face.

“Didn’t look like you were resting to me,” he mutters, and I feel my nostrils flare, but I bite back my anger. Laila is uncomfortable enough as it is. She doesn’t need this jerk making her feel worse about it.

“I won’t give you a ticket, but next time replace a hotel to…sleep in.”

“Yes, sir,” I grit through my teeth. His eyes are still on Laila, and not on her face.

“Thank you, officer,” I blurt out in a clipped tone, hoping he gets the hint and gets the fuck out of here.

Finally, he moves to get into his car. I can tell by the restless way Laila is shuffling around that she probably has to use the restroom among other things like get coffee and clean up. Seeing her so anxious makes me ten times more anxious.

When we finally climb back into the car, I can feel her discomfort.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry about that. You’re not in any trouble,” I mumble, afraid that she’s having regrets about what we did. It really wasn’t fair of me to put her in that position. I’m lucky we didn’t get a ticket for that.

“I know. I just…”

“What is it?” I ask, glancing over at her.

“You didn’t get to finish…and I feel bad.”

A smile spreads across my face. “You have nothing to feel bad about,” I reply. “Hey, on the bright side, you took initiative. Maybe you shouldn’t have done it in the backseat of my car in broad daylight.”

“Sorry,” she mumbles, without looking the least bit remorseful.

I laugh, ruffling her hair. “Let’s get some coffee.”

I have to keep reminding myself that this thing between Laila and me is not real. But the more time we spend together, the older she looks and more like a woman I could see myself with. Everything she said yesterday about settling down really got me thinking. After so many years of casual sex and putting off commitment, I’m finally settled enough to think about something long term. But with that comes the anxiety of maybe I waited too long. What if I can’t replace a woman my age to start a life with? And it’s not like a girl Laila’s age would want to settle down with an older man like me. She has her whole life ahead of her.

Still, I can’t help but wish things were different and I let my mind wander down an imaginary road of a day-to-day life with a girl like Laila. Or Laila herself.

When we get to the gas station, I try to call Kirsten twice but after two unanswered calls, I start getting nervous.

“She’s just sleeping,” Laila says when she notices me staring at my phone.

“I know.”

“She won’t get married without you.” Then, she puts a hand on my back while we wait in line to pay for our coffees. She helps to settle my nerves about Kirsten.

Thank heavens the mechanic opens on time and has the tire we need. He lets me know that it will only be an hour or so, rambling on about being the only guy working today. I don’t quite catch it all because I’m too distracted trying to keep an eye on Laila as she waits in the tiny greasy lobby alone. The distance between us makes me instantly uncomfortable. It’s a dad reflex, I tell myself. The protector in me. I never had a chance to be around Kirsten in her teen years.

Maybe if I had, she wouldn’t be running off to marry the first guy she could after only two months. Sorry, three.