(Jesse’s POV)
“Where’s your bastard baby?” I ask Layla when I answer the door to let her into my pack house.
“Shove it, Jesse. You called me, remember?”
I can’t help the smirk that plays at my lips. “Hm, not such a bimbo after all.”
I turn to walk toward my office.
I hear the door slam and the clicking of her high heels on hardwood as she trails behind me. “I’ve never been a bimbo. I can see that you don’t need or want “little old helpless me” anymore, so I gave up that part of my act.”
We enter my office. I wait by the door for her to come in, then close and lock it for our privacy. I can’t help but notice her curves as she walks by me to a wingback armchair.
She sits and crosses her legs.
Her red dress hugs her body in the best possible way. My eyes scan down from her straightene
