Stripped

Chapter 10

"Home sweet home," Mark said as he pulled the Mustang into the gravel driveway. The house overlooked large lake, the sand surrounding the water looked pure white in the dark. The house was modern and sleek but not as big as I had expected it to be. Though the fact that his home was on the more humble side didn't surprise me in the least.  

The stars glittered in the rippling water and I had to get a closer look. Wrapping my arms around my body to guard myself against the chill in the lake air, I marched down to the water's edge. Mark followed and hung his jacket off my shoulders. "Thank you," I mumbled softly staring up into those deep blue eyes. "For everything."

I didn't have to elaborate for Mark to know what I meant, he had saved me from Jake. The one person I thought I could trust had betrayed me when he put his hands on me tonight. Mark only smiled and lifted his hand to brush my hair to the side of my face. His lips swooped down on me, taking me by surprise. I gasped beneath his kiss as his arms encircled me and pulled me into his lean body. Our lips separated for a moment, just long enough for him to say my name, "Layla." He said, testing the sound of it on his tongue. His lips descended once more I let my mouth open to him and his tongue slipped inside. 

The moan he released deep in his throat was like fire in my veins. Boldly I let my hand slide down his chest, over his leather belt and I let my fingers graze the growing bulge in his jeans. He grunted in appreciation as I fondled him, but his hand covered mine stopping me from continuing. "Let's go get a drink."

I pouted a little that he stopped our interlude but I didn't complain. Mark took my hand and helped me up the stone steps that lead to the back door of the house. He unlocked the door and ushered me inside. The carpet was white causing me to stop dead in my tracks to slip off my muddy sandals. "You don't have to do that," Mark said, " I have a cleaning lady."

I shrugged and wiggled my bare toes in the lush carpet, "Why make more work for her?"

Mark chuckled and told me to make myself comfortable. He disappeared into the doorway to my left and I wandered around the room, examining the framed photos that decorated the walls. There were many pictures of who I assumed was his family hanging about, he obviously spent a lot of time with them. There was a picture of him with his arm around an older woman, clearly his mother judging by the color of her hair and her wide grin. They were laughing at something and  I immediately thought of my own mother in the only photo I owned of her. She had been laughing too, I remember my dad said she was laughing at something I had done but I didn't believe him fully because he had been high when he told me.  For all I knew he could have thought I was Anna. He often mixed me up with her when he was high. 

Mark came up beside me and handed me a tumbler filled with a small shot of whiskey on the rocks. I took a sip and felt the liquid burn its way down, it felt good. "Is that you and your mom?" I asked, pointing to the photo.

"Yeah, we were on vacation. I think my sister fell at the exact moment this photo was taken. That's why we were laughing." He laughed softly at the memory, "Erica was so mad."

"You have so many photos with them," I observed, "I only have one picture." I told him, though I wasn't sure why I brought it up.

Mark's brow furrowed, "Only one?"

I nodded, "Just one of my mom."

His hand went to my hip and he squeezed me reassuringly. "Don't you see her?"

I shook my head, "She died a long time ago. I barely remember her."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I shouldn't have asked."

"No no it's okay. I don't talk about her much. It's nice sometimes."

"Want to tell me more?" Mark offered sweetly.