Make Me Yours (4 page)

  
I point to myself. “Not this girl.”

  
Eric rolls his eyes, and pours himself a drink. “Who was this guy, anyway? He better not be hot, or I’ll kick your ass. I know you need to have some comfort,” he smiles, “too.”

  
I shrug and play with the end of my hair. “Just some guy we met at the pool hall.” A few customers come in throughout the day, but it’s not really busy. We are getting ready to close when the doorbell rings and I glance up.

  
My eyes widen and my heart slows to a standstill. Taylor and Brett walk in, laughing. Taylor glances at me and a smile crawls up his face. “Hey, Lay,” he says, leaning over the counter. His freshly showered scent overwhelms me. It aggravates me.

  
Eric mumbles something underneath his breath. “What can we get you guys?” He wipes his hands on the towel and grins.

  
Brett rambles something off but I’m too busy having a staring match with Taylor. “Fine,
Taylor.
What can I get you?”

  
His gaze drops to my breasts. I know he doesn’t get a good look because of the coffee shop, button down I’m wearing. “I think you know what I want.”

  
Eric intakes a small gasp and turns to start getting Brett’s coffee ready. I cock an eyebrow. “I think you better tell me what you want to drink, before I call campo to have you escorted out.”

  
Taylor wipes his thumb on the outside of his lip, leans back and looks down at me. “Oreo Java,” he says, licking his lips.

  
I could slap the smug look off his face. “Fine,” I blurt out, turning and grabbing a cup. Eric turns his back to the boys and widens his eyes.

  
“Please, tell me that is not who you left naked in his bed, wanting you.”

  
“He wasn’t naked…not all the way at least.”
And it wasn’t his bed, it was the pool table.

  
Eric gasps, grabbing my wrist. “That’s Taylor--,”

  
“Yeah, I know, Taylor Jacks.
He. Is. Just. A. Boy
,” I say, squirting whipped cream on the top of his coffee. I fight the urge to spit in it.

   Eric widens his eyes. “He is a God, look at him.”

   “Whatever, Eric.”

  
I turn, and Taylor is staring at my ass. “See something you like, princess?” I ask, slamming the coffee down in front of him.

  
He takes a sip of his coffee and nods. “Oh, I see it alright. Just can’t quit touch it yet. I’ll get it though.” He winks, slides me a ten and follows Brett out of the coffee shop. Eric’s mouth is hanging wide open when the door finally shuts.

  
“Shut the hell up, Lay. You almost got it on with Taylor Jacks. The champion for three years running at Fight Night. The ladies’ magnet on campus and the deepest, darkest secret crush I’ve ever had. God,” he shakes his head, “You’re luckier than you’ll ever know.” He places his elbow on the counter, eyes wide. “Tell me everything.”

  
I slip my
visor off as soon as I hit the front door to the apartment. I glance for Mittens, who is normally sitting in her bed, waiting for me. But, she isn’t there. I sigh. She probably broke something and is hiding in fear. Like I’ve ever really gotten onto her. I pull my hair from my ponytail and sit on the corner of our overly used couch. My feet hurt from work, and after Eric’s bugging me the entire day, I finally broke down and told him about our situation last night. He swooned. All day.

  
I told him he was nuts, he isn’t
that
good looking. But, he told me I was bat-shit crazy and told me to never speak to him again, until I was in my right mind.

  
I smell popcorn, but it isn’t until I get to the kitchen, that the smell makes me sick to my stomach.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“Hey, stranger,” Cindy yells over a handful of popcorn. She has books scattered along the table, and of course, Brett and Taylor are sitting beside her, smiling ear to ear.

  
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I say. My dad always told me not to speak my mind all the time, it can lead to getting your ass whooped. But, hell, this is ridiculous. I didn’t forget what Cindy said earlier, I was just hoping she was joking to torment me. She wasn’t. They’re here. To torment me, also.

  
Taylor smiles that dimple denting smile. “Long day, sweetheart?”

  
My palm twitches to slap the smirk off of his face. “You have no idea. This guy keeps fucking following me, after I told him I wasn’t interested. I think I’m going to have to call the—,” my mouth drops open. There in Taylor’s lap is Mittens, curled into a tight gray ball. “What the hell are you doing with my cat!” I yell.
Mittens. Likes. No.  One.

  
Taylor lifts a pierced eyebrow and smiles. “Whatever you want me to.”

  
I figure I asked for that one. “Don’t be a dick,” I say, shuffling my feet. Heat burns under my cheek, but I ignore it. “I’m going to take a bath,” I say.

  
“Wait! Don’t you want to study with us? We have test three tomorrow in Literature of the South. Come on,” Cindy says, waving me over. I eye Mittens, who yawns and stretches her neck so Taylor can scratch her. Then I eye the other chair in between Brett and Taylor. Too close to Taylor. I don’t need to be that close.

  
“I’ll pass.”

  
I take as long as I can in the shower. I’m hoping they’ll be gone by the time I get out. I can hear Cindy laughing and I know they’re still there. Truth is, I do need to study, but I know I won’t get any studying done in there with them. Aggravated, I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around me. I feel refreshed, not to have the grim from work on me. Coffee smells great, but not when its fifty different kinds blended together over a day’s work. At least when I work at the pool hall, if you call that work, I don’t have to get all dirty.

  
I crack the door open, and dash across the hallway to my bedroom. I don’t look to see if they see me, I don’t want to know.

  
I lock the door and scream when I look at my bed. Taylor is laying on my bed, big combat boots on my clean sheets. His hands are intertwined behind his head and he is smiling.

  
“Get out of my room, Taylor, and get your nasty boots off my bed,” I say, clenching the towel tighter to me.

  
He eyes my movement and sits up, hair a brown mess on top of his head. “You look mad, Lay. What’s wrong?” he asks.

  
I see one of my heels lying next to my closet door and I debate throwing it at his head. “I’m mad because you’re here.”

  
He furrows his brow, momentarily serious, before smiling again. “What?” he stands up. “Didn’t have fun last night? Seems to me like you did, you were rather
hot
for me. I even made you come.”

  
Burst of flames rocket under my skin. He is
not
talking about this. “Shut up, you’re delusional. I did not come.”

  
He smiles, and rocks back on his heels. “On the contrary, Layla. You did.” He steps closer to me. “You even moaned my name. You kissed me, you let me take those nice breast in my mouth. You wanted me.” His lip lifts. “And for some reason, you left me, hot and heavily horny for you. That’s fine, if you say stop, I’ll stop. But,” he holds one finger up. I blush, knowing he stroked me with that finger last night. “I want to know why you left me naked last night. Why you deny wanting me now?”

  
He is only a foot away from me now, gray eyes staring down on me. My mouth is dry, but I force to swallow. “I told you, I’m not interested. I got…caught up in the moment.” It sounded way better in my head.

  
Taylor steps forward, my back hitting the door. He leans in. “And I told you, I wasn’t buying it. I know you’re lying. I want to know why? Why can’t you just admit you find me attractive?”

  
I’m gritting my teeth. I want to slam my palm into his face. Why can’t he just give up? “Look, I never said I didn’t find you attractive.” I give him a once over. “You’re…
okay
and everything. It’s just not what I need in my life. I’m not a booty call.”

  
“I’m
okay
?” he asks, crossing his arms. “Just okay? Last night seemed like more than okay? For someone that doesn’t want to get too close to someone, why would having a one-night stand hurt you?”

  
I bite my lip. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

  
He lifts an eyebrow. “I never asked you to be. I’m not exactly interested in just one night, Layla.” His gray eyes travel down my legs. I pull my towel tighter. “One night with you would never be enough.”

  
Heat builds between my legs, but I force it out. I can’t fall into his trap. He says this to every girl he is ever with. He is a manipulator.
So are you.
I shake my head.

  
“That’s worse,” I say. “I don’t need one night, I don’t want two. I’m not the person to get close to. So,” I stand up on my tip-toes, “leave me alone.”

  
Taylor laugh, his chest moving slightly. I imagine it from the night before, hard, tanned, touchable. “No can do, princess. But, I can make you a deal. You kiss me right now, and I’ll leave this room and not bother you for a while.”

  
“No deal,” I blurt out. “You can’t promise to leave me alone just for a while.” What does a while mean? One second, a day, a week?

  
He shrugs. “I guess your bed is calling my name then.” He turns to go sit down. No, him on my bed is not good.

  
“One kiss,” I say, my insides lighting fire.
I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this.
I bite my lip, and squeeze my towel tighter around me. It’s shoved into the other side, hooked above my breasts, but I’m scared it’ll fall if I let go.

  
Taylor turns around, taking a few steps toward me. He is in my face, all six foot two inches of him, hovering over my five foot two frame. “One kiss, that’s all.”

  
Taylors serious now. Not smiling, gray eyes boring into mine. “One,” he mumbles, before bringing his lips to mine. He presses his soft, full mouth to my own and I’m melting on the inside. His right palm engulfs my waist, sliding down to the edge of my towel.
Oh no.

  
The other grabs my nape and pushes my mouth harder into his. He parts my mouth with his tongue, grazing my bottom lip. And stupidly, I open wide, allowing him to assault my mouth with his experienced tongue. Grunting, he picks me up under my ass, and carries me to his bed. He sits, so I straddle his waist. I’m in a towel, no underwear and I feel the bulge in his pants, as he pushes me down on it.
No. No. No. This is not one kiss!

  
I break away, and he trails his tongue ring up my neck. I open my mouth to speak.
One more second
. He grips my ear with his tongue, sucking on the skin.
Fuck.
“This is not one kiss,” I mumble, closing my eyes as he trails down to my towel. It’s undone in two second, my breast flowing out. He takes one nipple in his mouth, sucking, swirling his tongue ring around the sensitive skin. His other hand grips underneath my breast, squeezing it with his calloused hand.

  
“Fuck,” he mumbles against my breast. “Please, tell me I can have you, Layla.”

  
Wetness has built in-between my leg.
This isn’t right. I barely know him.
“Tell me, Layla,” he spits out. “I fucking want you.”

  
Anger, lust, want and frustration builds in my chest. “Stop,” I say. “This is way more than one kiss.”

  
Taylor’s eyes are dilated. He is panting. I see his dick hard and ready beneath his faded blue jeans. He smiles. Smiles. It makes me want to kill him. “You liked it,” he whispers, standing up. He dips his head low, kissing me on the cheek. I snatch away from him.

  
He is gone before I can get my towel up.

Chapter Three

   I’m exhausted. After my run-in with Taylor last night, I couldn’t concentrate on
A Time To Kill
to save my life. I’m thinking it is a time to kill…a time to kill Taylor Jacks. Mittens finally graced me with her presence after Taylor left. She played with my hair while I tried to study our work sheet. Now, I’m on my way to class, drinking a coffee, eyes wide, mouth ajar and hoping that I don’t fail.