Make Me Yours (13 page)

   His lip
lifts, he dips his mouth toward my ear. “I told you, I can take some punishment.”

   I smile.

   Brett and Cindy are already grinding on one another by the time we get to the dance floor. Several people are staring at us, mouth agape. “People are staring,” I whisper, as Taylor pulls me to his chest.

   “Let ‘
em look,” he whispers back, sliding his hand through the back of my opened dress. He hums the song in my ear and grinds me against him.

   “I see you thought this dress out, hmm?”

   Taylor laughs. “I did. I love your back,” he dips his head, “your ass. Now I have access to it whenever I please.”

   Heat swarms me. “You’re a pervert, aren’t you?”

   He shrugs, and pulls me in by my ass. “If the shoe fits.”

   Taylor and I dance, the
songs blending into each other. I toss my head back and grip his neck as he grinds into me from behind. He slides his tongue over my neck and my body shudders. When he pulls me off to the side, I wait while he gets us drinks.

   Cindy is still dancing, a little drunk, but still dancing. They seem oblivious to the world, it makes me smile. That’s how I feel with Taylor, I shouldn’t, but I do.

   “Excuse me,” someone says.

   I glance over and take in a tall, blonde replica of myself. Okay, her boobs are way bigger than mine, but other than that, we look alike. “Yes?” I ask, crossing my arms. I don’t like the way she is staring at me.

   She purses her pink glossed lips together and widens her eyes, like I’m supposed to know why she is standing in front of me. “Do you need something?” I ask again.

   She huffs, and slings her blonde hair over her shoulder. “You’re here with Taylor Jacks, right?”

   “Yes, is that a problem?”
What the fuck is up with this chick?

  
“Well, since obviously you don’t know, I’ve been seeing him.” She pushes up her arms, making her boobs look larger.

   I cock my head to the side and stand completely up.
“Oh, really? When is the last time you’ve seen him?” I ask.

   She smiles. “Last night.”

   I laugh, rolling my neck. “Funny, I didn’t see you in the middle of us while we were fucking. Now, get lost, before I bet your ass. You’re starting to get on my nerves.”

   I turn toward the kitchen, but she grabs my shoulder. “I’m not finished talking to you,
bitch.”

  
Oh hell no she didn’t.
“Let go of me, and get your ten dollar nails off my shoulder.” I sling her hand away and turn back.

   She is almost growling.
“You better leave right now, and everything will be fine. He is with me,” she says.

   My patience is growing thin. A few people are surrounding us, and I see Cindy trying to push her way through the crowd. “You’re just a fucking piece of meat that he wanted for a night,” she says, enjoying the attention.

   “And what are you?” I ask, stepping toward her.

   “Better,” she sneers. She pushes my shoulder. “Get out.”

   I glance at the ceiling. I’m going to kill this bitch. “Don’t touch me again…”

  
“Or what? You’ll do what, Layla? You’ll—oh!” she screams as I throw my fist at her jaw. She steps back a few paces, eyes wide. “What the hell.” She is trying to get back up now.

   “Come on, bitch. You want him so bad, let’s do this.” I kick off my stilettoes.

   “You stupid slut!” she screams, coming at me. I toss up my hands and hit her two hard time in the jaw. She is bleeding from a cut underneath her eye. She tries to throw some punches, but I jerk back. Then she grabs my hair.

   “Of course, you’re a hair grabber,” I grumble, pushing her hard in the stomach. She stumbles back, pulling me down with her. She tries to swing her leg over me, but I punch her in the boob. Not the best part, I don’t want to give her cancer, only whoop her ass.

   “Fuck,” she screams out. I climb on top, and slug her a few times.

   I’m going for the fifth blow when someone grabs me and pulls me off of her. “Calm down,” Taylor says in my ear. “Stop fighting me.”

   I’m still kicking. “Stupid bitch!” I yell.

   She staggers up, eyes wide, blood trickling down her cheek and her lip. She sniffles, and a few blonde girls help her up and
they disappear down the hallway into the bathroom.

   Taylor tosses me over his shoulder and drops me on the ground
once we get outside. He goes to his knees and examines my face. “You’re not hurt?” he asks.

   I shake my head and try to comb my hair. “Damn it,” I say, straightening my dress.

   Taylor is smiling down at me, a proud look in his eyes. “Well, I didn’t know you were a little fighter, Lay. You whooped her ass.”

   I shrug and stand up. “I grew up in a trailer park. I was around it.” Taylor is still smiling. “She says she was seeing you.”

   Taylor lifts an eyebrow. “She did, did you set her straight?”

   I smirk and stand up. “What do you think?”

   He laughs, and kisses me. Cindy comes running out a few moments later, holding my shoes in her hand. “You left your shoes…I mean my shoes. You better be glad I got them, or you’d be fighting me next.” She is out of breath, but she throws me the shoes. “Not like I would want to, you bet the hell out of her.”

   Taylor wraps his arm around me. “I think we’ve got a little
Rocky
here.”

   I roll my eyes and sigh. “I think I’m ready to go home.”

  
  
Mittens is sleeping
between Taylor and I when I wake up. She is purring, sleeping in a tight, gray ball. I smile over at her and rub my fingers over her fur.

   “I think Mittens has a thing for me, but,” Taylor says stretching, “can you blame her?”

   I roll my eyes and my cheeks start to burn.
I whooped a girl’s ass last night over him.

 
“Of course not,” I roll my eyes, “everyone wants Taylor
BadAss,
didn’t you hear?” I ask, throwing the covers off of me.

   He laughs and grabs my waist pinning me below him on the bed. His hair is mushed against his forehead, his tattooed arms on either side of me. “You wanted me,” he whispers. “You just didn’t want to say it.”

   I squirm underneath him and smile. He is right. I had wanted him, I still do. “Well,” I hold up an inch, “maybe a little.”

   He laughs. “
You did beat the hell out of a girl for me.”

   “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

   He shakes his head back and forth. “Not a chance. Now, get ya sexy fighting ass up, we’ve got to go to school.”

  
Taylor sits by me in Literature of the South. Several girls are staring at us again, it’s been a while since we’ve even come to class. Taylor watches as a few girls from the front row turn around and sneer. He waves at them and nuzzles his mouth into my neck. I slap at him but he grunts and makes a loud moaning sound.

   “You better fucking stop it,” I say, swatting
at him.

   He pulls me closer, sliding his tongue against my neck.

   “Mr. Jacks,” Dr. Walter says. “I suggest you learn how to contain yourself around your female friend.” She gives a weak smile and pushes her glasses up.

   Taylor wipes at the corner of his mouth and smiles. “I am. But, hell, can you blame me? Look at h
er?” He gestures toward me. Heat rises in my ears.

   “Try,” Dr. Walter says, before starting to write on the board.

   I shove him with my elbow and he laughs underneath his breath. We’re halfway through class when I feel someone staring at me. At first, I figured it was just some sorority girl that has a crush on Taylor, but then it starts to feel different.

   I glanced around the auditorium and my eyes centered in on David. His eyes are narrowed,
and I see a slight cut and stich above his right eyebrow. My mouth becomes dry. This is not happening. How could I have not seen him before?

   “What’s wrong, hustler?”

   I direct my eyes toward David, who is still staring at me. Taylor glances over and his arm clenches around me. “Don’t worry,” he whispers.

   “He is texting. I bet he’s texting Rod,” I say, my foot tapping erratically.

   “Shhh, baby,” he whispers again, his mouth to my ear. “We’ll take care of it after class. We’ll be fine, I swear it.”

   My phone buzzes and I open my text from Cindy.

  
What’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?

   David is here.

  
The guy from the pool hall?

  I shove my
phone back in my pocket and turn to look at her. I nod. Her eyes widen and she pokes Brett to tell him.

   Taylor stays calm, tapping his fingers on the back of my desk. It’s been the longest damn hour of class I’ve ever been through. When Dr. Walter finally dismisses us, Taylor grabs me, hurls me over his shoulder and carries me out of the classroom. Which, is rather unnecessary but I feel safe.
I can see Taylor’s ass and that’s it, but I know that we have made it outside.

   “Fuck,” Taylor says, slinging me down to stand up.

   “What is it?” I ask, glancing around. We’re in front of the cafeteria when I see Rod leaning against a tree, legs crossed, smiling right at us. “Oh, God. Let’s just go the other way, okay? Come on, Taylor.”

   He lets me pull at his arm, but never budges from his seat.

   Only a few students have noticed them staring at each other, but they all elbow and snicker behind their hands. “Layla, go stand over there with Brett.”

  
I haven’t even noticed that Brett and Cindy are standing to the side. My hands began to shake. “No Tay-,”

   “Now,” he yells, snapping her head toward mine. His eyes are darker, widened and his hands are flinching.

   Turning, I walk toward Cindy, who grabs me and grips onto my shirt. Brett is almost bouncing watching Taylor walk toward Rod. “We’ll be okay, Taylor,” Brett reassures me. I’m not sure I believe him.

    Rod kicks off the tree, stomps his cigarette and cracks his neck. We’re not very far away, and I’m glad I can hear what they’re saying. But, as soon as Rod laughs, I get an eerie feeling that Taylor is going to explode on his ass.

   “So, you’re the one that
whooped
my ass the other day, huh? Mr. Taylor Jacks, right? Fight Night champion. Am I correct?”

   Taylor glares at him.
“Who the fuck wants to know.”

   Rod laughs, examining his fingernail. “I just wanted to know before I beat the life out of you. I like to know my enemies, Taylor. You know why?” He pulls off his leather jacket, and my body runs cold.

   Taylor watches him carefully. “Why?”

   “So, I can deliver the bad news to the family. What is it? You look white? You don’t want me to go talk to Trent, your brot
her? Or Amy your little sister? We better not tell Daddy, he might beat you.” He smiles. “He beat you right? Your Mom and you?”

   My stomach drops from my stomach
. His father beat him?
By the look on Taylor’s face, I know it’s true. How could anyone beat him? My tongue is stuck to the roof and my mouth and my heart is beating erratically. That’s why he doesn’t have any pictures up of his family?

   Taylor’s fist closes and his knuckles turn white. “Aw, I guess I struck a nerve?” He pulls off his necklace. “So, you’re defending Layla’s honor right? The little hustling slut at the pool hall, I would expect better
from you. Since you don’t seem like you can’t get some ass if you wanted some. These college girls love the bad-boy. The bad-boy fighter who can lift them and beat the fuck out of some drunken college wrestlers.”

      Taylor’s jaw flexes, and I can see the fury in his gray eyes from where I’m standing. I’m praying that a teacher sees and calls campus police. I’d rather have them escorted to the jail, than beating the fuck out of one another.

   “You kept your money, Rod. Why don’t you just give it up? Why don’t you just leave her alone?”

   Rod pulled off his fingerless motorcycle gloves and tosses them to the side. “What a nice suggestion, Taylor. Wouldn’t that be wonderful for you and your little fuck buddy. But, I don’t forgive that easily. See,” he places his hand on his chest, “I can’t sleep at night until I know justice has been served. So, I suggest you step aside and let me take care of, Layla.”

   Taylor smiles and cracks his neck, but before Rod can say anything Taylor launches at him, sending a hard uppercut to his jaw. Rod steps back a few steps, different colored eyes wide. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that, Kid.”

   Rod runs at him, fist flying. They collide, Taylor drop kicking him, until he falls to the ground, g
urgling. His punches Rod in the face repeatedly. Out of the corner of my eyes, I watch David approach them, a busted beer bottle in his hand. “Oh, God,” I say, stepping forward. Brett tries to grab me, but I run toward David, jumping on his back, I slam my first into the side of his head, knocking him down.