Make Me Yours (11 page)

   Taylor studies me for a few uncomfortable minutes.
His gray eyes searching my face for answers. “Why would he tell you that? Never get caught doing what?”

  
“Hustling.”

   Taylor tilts his head to the side and
his lips part slightly in awe. “Your dad taught you how to hustle?”

   “Yes.”

   I want to know what he is thinking, but he is face too hard to decipher. “He didn’t die in a car wreck, did he?”

   I shake my head. “They killed my dad and mom in front of me,” I say, a tear traveling along my fac
e. Taylor quickly wipes it away, eyes full of pity. The one thing I did not want to happen.

   “That’s why you do it? That’s why you won’t get close to me,” he whispers into my hair. “You’re scared I’ll get hurt.”

   He has no idea. I couldn’t imagine anyone else getting close to me and getting hurt. I won’t let that happen to anyone else. I’d die first. The pain of living when your parents’ die, even though you know it’s not your fault, is almost too hard to bear.

  
Taylor wipes my eyes and let’s my wrists free from his grasps. “I’m not getting hurt, Layla. Do you understand me? I won’t get hurt. I can take care of myself…and you. If you will just let me.”

   I shake my head and stand up. “No. It’s never happened before. I’ve always got away with it. Now, Rod is after me. I can’t let him hurt you. I can’t let him hurt Cindy.
Or Eric. This can’t happen,” I motion between us, “I’m already risking people as of now. If I let you in…and let you have me the way I want you to, I’ll never let go. Even if it goes nowhere, if they know they’ll hurt you. I can’t live with that on my shoulders. I’m not my father.”

   Taylor is standing now, beads of sweat running down his torso. His mouth is in a hard straight line and eyes wide in excitement. “You’re fucking gorgeous when you’re mad.
There is no way I can’t stop being around you, Lay. I just met you and I want to keep you at my house. Even if it’s not safe, I want you there.”

   I shake my head and start to get down from the rocks. Taylor grabs my hand and pushes me against the stone wall. His hands are in my hair, around my waist and scanning my body like he may never see it again. Frustrated, I push against his
hard chest but he pulls me tighter, cupping my ass in his palm. “I’m not scared, Layla. Let me have you, please. Not once. No more
one kiss
, I want hundreds. Thousands. I want to be inside of you. I want you to call my name. Please, don’t push me away because of this. I’ll take care of both of us.”

   Desire is coursing through me, heat building between my legs. “Take me,” I whisper so low I’m scared he might not have heard me.
I don’t plan on being with him more than once, but I have to have it once. I have to know what it feels like.

   He groans.
“Not here, not like this, Layla.”

   I’m so
hot; I can barely make sense of what he is saying. “Please,” I kiss his neck, gripping at him. “Please.”

   He places his head on the rock beside my head. “I’m not taking you on some damn rocks, now let’s go. I’m taking you home.”

   The ride home is excoriating. It’s been three years since I’ve had sex. I’m kind of rusty, and knowing I’m going to do it with someone like Taylor, it just makes me more nervous. Taylor is driving like a mad man, running stops signs and red lights. His fingers tap against the steering wheel and he is twisting and biting on his lips.

   “If you don’t slow down, you won’t have anyone to have sex with when you get home.”

   Taylor grins to himself, but doesn’t slow down. When we get to his apartment, my hands are tapping nervously against my sides. I’m still in my underwear. I didn’t put my clothes back on. We’re basically running upstairs. A man from down the hall stops to stare at us. His eyes are bugging open and his cigarette hanging loosely in-between his fingers.

 
He shakes his head. “Hey, Taylor fighting tonight, right?” he asks, flicking his cigarette over the balcony.

   “Yeah, yeah, sure,” Taylor says, opening and closing the door before he can answer. Taylor grabs my ass, and encircles my legs around his slender waist. “I’m gonna make you mine, Layla. Tell me if I hurt you,” he whispers as he carries me to his room.
“I’ll stop.” I’m more than once hundred percent certain that I won’t ask him to stop.

   The bed is still unmade from this morning, but Taylor kicks th
e covers off the bed and slams me down on my back. I’m panting I’m so excited.

   Taylor bites his lower lip and runs his fingers through his hair. “You’re not a virgin are you?” he bust out.

   “No, you’re not taking my innocence, Taylor.”

   “Good.” He keeps standing up looking down at me. I squirm underneath his glare. When he reaches down
he pulls my underwear off of my hips, down my thighs and to the floor. His eyes are dark, wide and never glancing away from me. I move my hips up, urging for him to touch me, kiss me, fuck me.

  
He scoots me to the edge of the bed and drops down on his knees.
Oh, Jesus.
He kisses my thigh, then my shin, then I feel his hair against the inside of my leg. When his mouth touches me, I moan. His tongue ring slides against my wet folds, with experience. He grips my ass, and pushes my legs further apart with his head. I grip his dark hair and push his face into me. He moans, hardening his hold on my ass. When I’m about to convulse from his tongue, he stands up and moves me onto the bed.

   “Does that feel good, Lay?” he asks breath on my neck.

   I nod and grip the sheet. “You have no idea.”

   He smiles, and takes my mouth with his. I can taste myself on his lips and I quiver at the thought of it. He pushes his finger into me slowly,
increasing the pace when he puts his tongue into my mouth. “You taste so good,” he says, traveling down to my breast. He unsnaps my bra and takes my nipple into his mouth. I arch my back, pressing myself toward him. The heat from his mouth makes me high, I can’t not have him now. Taylor is growing restless. Among the sound of our kissing and groaning, I hear Taylor slide his swimming trunks down his legs. His arms wraps around me and clench. His open palm cups my breast and I fill as full as I could ever be.

   He shoves his other hand down and cups my sex. The heel of his pa
lm rubs me, then he sticks his middle finger up and into me. “Fuck,” I whisper, my problems washing away. I’m trembling from anticipation, my heart pounding fiercely.

   “Tell me what you want,” he whispers, still moving his finger in me.

   “You,” I croak out, shaking with want.

   “You want me to do what, Layla?” he asks, voice low.

   “Fuck me. I want you inside me,” I say. I’m too turned on to be embarrassed. I grind into his finger and tears burn at my eyes from the sheer enjoyment. He pushes my legs open, I can feel his hardness against my sex.

   “Are you mine?” he whispers, rubbing himself against me.

   I bite my lip and he grips my hair. “Are you mine?” he whispers, his tattooed arm holding him up and against me.

   “Yes, I’m fucking yours,” I moan.

   “You want me in you,” he whispers, stroking me softly. The almost there touch, aggravates me. I want him in me. His teasing strokes are driving me crazy.

   “Everywhere, I want you everywhere on me.” I grab the back of his head and look him in the eyes. “Fuck me, Taylor.”

   He smiles, dimple denting in his cheek. He pushes up and barely enters me. “Fuck,” I moan out, but he pulls out. He is watching me closely.

   “Tell me again.”

   “Fuck me, Taylor. I’m yours,” I say.

   He smiles and slowly enters me. I feel myself stretching to fit his width. I close my eyes tight and slowly slide myself further onto him. He holds my arms imprisoned above my head, rocking himself into me, slowly filling me up. My stomach shudders and I toss my head back. Gray eyes watch me as I grind
against him. “You feel so good,” he mumbles, letting me wrap my arms around him. He grips my breast in his calloused hands and flicks at the peak nipple. He continues to rock in me, making my breath come in short pants.

   “How do you like it, Lay?” he whispers into my ear. “Hard? Fast? Or you want me to make love to you?” he asks.

   “Hard,” I breathe out, unsure if I could take any long strokes. I need him all the way in me, as hard as he can give it.

   His eyes widen, but he buries his scruffy jaw against my neck, grabs my ass and slams into me. He’s pulsing fiercely, groaning into my ear. I wrap my legs around him and shutter at the impact of his steady pounds.

   “Taylor,” I beg and clench my thighs around him. “Please,” I say.

   He groans and slams into me harder. I’m so undone, and desperate for him to not let go. It’s too good. He’s too big. I need him in me. He drops his mouth to mine and kissing me like he’ll never get to do it again. “Layla,” he gasps into my mouth. One hand grabs my breast and the other steadies my hip so he can slam into my center. “Tell me to fuck you.”

   “Fuck me,” I gasp out. “Take me, Taylor. I’m yours.” He slams into me, he reaches up and grabs my hair forcing me to look at him. “You’re so hard, you feel so good. Please.”

Answering my desperate cries, he digs deeper into me, grabbing at me, like he can’t stand of not being inside of me.  “I won’t let you go. I won’t let them hurt you.” His eyes are steady, lips parted open. He lifts my hips and plows deeper.

   I moan out, my sex convulsing around him. I explode. I shudder, bringing myself down from the high. Taylor watches me carefully, before he grips my ass and gives me four more long strokes, before he grunts one final time. We’re both breathing hard. He is lying on top of me, running his tongue against my neck, licking and kissing at me.

   I’m shaking, mouth open and eyes closed.
He leans down and takes me in his arms. “You smell like me. Like my bed.”

   I smile and snuggle into him. “You live up to your legacy,” I say, hiding a smile.

   Taylor lifts an eyebrow and runs his finger over my nipple. “You’re starting one.”

   I laugh and slide into the pillow, while he spoons me.

   “You don’t have to worry about me, Lay. I’m going to keep us safe,” he says.

   I nod into the pillow
. I sure as Hell hope so.

Chapter Seven

 
 
Cindy has a perfectly plucked eyebrow raised when we walk out of the apartment building toward Brett’s BMW. I nervously pull at my hair, then my dress.
What is she looking at?

  
“You look fucking hot,” Taylor says into my ear.

   “Do I have nut on my face? Because, she’s looking at me like she knows.”

   Taylor does a quick check over my face. “Nope, you’re good. I was sure to get it all off in the shower.”

   I roll my eyes and hide my blush. Taylor and I took a shower together. He told me he had to make sure I was cleaned. I said sure, if that’s what you
wanna call it.

   “You two look rather…
happy
?” Cindy says, hiding a smile. She pretends to pick at lint on her black jeans.

   “Just a normal day being kidnapped by Taylor,” I let out in a nervous laugh.

   “Umhmm,” Cindy mumbles below her breath.

   Taylor opens my door and I get in while Cindy comes behind me. “You two had sex,” she mumbles out, before either boy has time to get in.

  “No,” I say, defensively. “We went swimming.”

   She lifts an eyebrow. “I’m gonna find out. So, just tell me.”

   “Don’t know what you’re talking about?” I look out the window and startled myself at my reflection. I’m flushed and even my eyes look like they’re smiling.

   “Sure, you sex goddess.”

   I hold back a laugh. I’m far from that.

  
Fight Night is
ridiculous. It’s the only word I can explain it with. My head hurts from everyone screaming. There are at least seven hundred people here. Cindy is dragging me through the crowded arena toward the V.I.P section. Taylor is behind us, and I now know why he is so arrogant. Every single girl in the arena is staring at him. Some reach out and touch him, others yell ‘
fuck me, Taylor.
’ The words make me want to go beat the hell out of the girl that said it.

   “Don’t worry, hustler,” Taylor says low in my ear. “You’re the only one that gets to tell me that and I follow orders.”