Make Me Yours (10 page)

Read Make Me Yours Online

Authors: Alla Kar

   A firecracker is sizzling in my stomach. I need something to let myself go. “Layla,” he groans, gripping my breast with his calloused hand.
That’s it. I explode, my body shaking against his. I’m too blissful to be embarrassed by my orgasm…again…without sex.

   Taylor cups my face and fucks me with him mouth.
His tattooed arm wrapping around my back to pull me down on him harder. “I want you, please,” he whispers.

   “I want you--,”

   “Is anybody here?” I hear from outside the car. Frantic, I jump off of Taylor, and start straightening my clothes and hair. I’m almost thankful someone came in when they did. I was going to let Taylor fuck me in the backseat of his car. The thought makes my skin heat. I’m way too far into this.

   Taylor has an amused expression on his face. “What the hell, Taylor? Who is that?”

   He rolls his eyes and grabs my hand leading me out of the Mustang. “Taylor?” someone asks from a far. I hear him laugh and my cheeks grow hot.

   “Should have known,” the older man walks up to us, hand extended. “I’m Berney, what’s your name, sweet lady?”

   I take his hand and smile. “Layla.” He kind of reminds me of Santa Clause, without the huge belly. He laughs like him too.

   “Well, don’t let me interrupt, I was just coming by and saw the Hummer outside.”

   Taylor smiles. “Don’t worry about it, Berney. We were just heading out. I’m taking Layla somewhere.”

   This is the first time I’ve
heard of it, but I nod and pretend to be in the loop. After we say bye to Berney, Taylor gets into the car.

   “Where are we going?”
I ask, watching the woods pass by us.

   He grins, resting his large hand on the steering wheel. “Going swimming,” he says. I watch as he taps his thumb against the wheel to the radio. He looks so carefree. I bite my lip, wondering how his entire life would change if I did get with him. Rod would have collateral, and Taylor would be the number one target.

   “I don’t have a swimsuit.”

   He shrugs. “Neither do I. We’ll just wear our underwear.”

   Great. That’s going to go over well.

  
I pull at the fringe on my jeans and Taylor’s hand stops me. “Don’t think today, okay? Let’s just go swim and have some fun. Does that sounds, okay?”

   I look over and up at him. His gray eyes are kind, and his smile tells me he wants me to have fun. I nod. “Sure, let’s have fun.”

   The water hole is about ten miles out of town. I’ve only been there once, with Cindy, and it’s normally crawling with college kids. Doing things that would get them kicked out of their dorms. I see a few kids at the end of the lake, and a few girls scream at Taylor’s truck, but Taylor keeps driving passed the parking. “Where are we going?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

  
Taylor smiles. “What? You don’t trust me?”

  
“Well, hell no, Mr. Just One Kiss.”

   He grins. “Well, the l
ast time I checked kissing takes two, unless you’re doing it with the mirror, or a pillow.”

  
My cheeks heat. “Whatever,” I say, scooting on the edge of my seat. Taylor takes a long dirt road that’s excluded. The low hanging green trees, gives me a warm vibe. The road starts to narrow, and the road is more like a trail. When the trees open up, I see an open spot where the lake is blocked off, a water fall falling down from above. My mouth drops open. “Damn,” I say. “This is so pretty.”

   Taylor turns off his truck and opens his door. I follow him around to the trunk, where he pulls out a basket, a blanket and some towels.
I’m trying not to smile but I can’t help it. “Taylor Jacks,” I say, breathless.

   He glances over to me and lifts an eyebrow.
His dimple denting in his cheek.

   “Did you bring us a picnic?”

   I swear I see the slightest fade of pink on his scruffy jaw. He rolls his eyes. “Don’t make me regret it, Layla.”

   I hold my hands up in surrender.
“Not another word.”

   Taylor grabs my waist and drags me close to the water. I watch the water flow over the rocks as Taylor set
s us up a place to sit. A few birds chirp overhead and the water lapping at the rocks, coos in the air. “You hungry?” Taylor asks, patting the seat on the blanket in front of him.

   I nod. Taylor hands me a sandwich, a Coke and a bag of chips. “I worked hard on
that, so you better eat it all. My cooking skills are too good to waste.”

   I
open the bag of chips and smile. “You must have slaved over it.” I roll my eyes. I’m half way through with my sandwich when Taylor clears his throat.

   “Tell me about you,” he says, softly.

   I shrug. “What do you want to know?”

   He scratches his chin. “
Where are you from?”

   “Dallas.”

   “Why Ohio then? What brought you up here?” he asks.

   I wanted to get as far away as I could from my family’s memories. “Scholarship,” I lie. I did get one, but that’s not the reason at all.

   “What about your mom and dad? Didn’t they want you to stay closer to them?” Taylor’s eyes are boring into me. This is the part where he asks what happened and gets that look of pity on his face. Tells me it’s okay and that he’s sorry. I hate it. It’s just as uncomfortable for me as them.

   “Died, both of them,” I say, blankly.

   Taylor is utterly still for a few seconds. “I’m sorry,” he says. “What happened?”

   Fear swarms my heart and it begins to beat rapidly against my rib cage. I try to block out the scene from my head, but i
t pushes back against me anyway, refusing to let me be.

***

   “You cheated,” I yelled, shoving against my dad’s chest.

   He smiled and ran
his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. “I did not. You’re just a sore loser, Layla. I taught you better than that.”

   I laughed. “And grandpa taught you better than to cheat!”

   Dad rolled his eyes and threw his cards on the table. “I should have known you would catch me. Only because you’re so good at cheating yourself.”

   “You two better keep it down in here,” my mom
’s soft voice echoed through the kitchen. She walked through the swinging kitchen door, holding a tray of cookies. “I wouldn’t want the neighbors to call the police again.” She crinkled her nose. “Prudes,” she whispered.

   I took a few cookies and glanced up at my mom. She was staring down at my dad. She had the simplest, shyest smile I’d ever seen. She had long legs, blonde hair and was the quiet type. I looked just like her. But, I wasn’t the quiet type. My dad wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into her lap. They didn’t seem to take their eyes of each other, even when the first thump on the door sounded.

   “Ya’ll gonna get that?” I asked, pointing toward the door.

   Mom stood up, and straightened her apron.
“Hey, kiddo. Why don’t you go get us something to drink to go with these cookies?” Dad asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

  
“Sure, Dad.” I walked into the kitchen, drug out two cups and reached for the refrigerator when a shot fired into the air.

   I dropped the glass,
it scattered on the tile floor. I scampered toward the swinging door. Mom was lying on the floor, while Dad cried over her body. “Layla,” he whispered, never looking away from mom. “Never get caught, baby. Never get too close,” he whispered. I knew the man thought he was talking to Mom, and I know he hoped I would hear. I did.

  
The man in the black hoodie pulled the gun up slowly from his side and pressed it against my dad’s temple. “You son of a bitch. You fucking hustling son of a bitch.” The shot rang through the air.

  
I gasped and the hooded figure glanced up at me, I’ll never forget his blue eyes and the scorpion tattoo on his face. Frightened, angry and shaking, I ran from the back door and into the neighbor’s yard, I climbed high into their tree and hid. The hooded guy walked underneath the tree for ten minutes before he disappeared into the night.

  
I stayed there all night, shivering, cold and crying. The Peterson’s son Joseph found me in the tree the next morning, crying, curled into a tight ball. That was the day I remembered everything my dad ever said, and he’s rules played loudly in my ears. I was going to do well, and do it right.

***

   “Lay,” Taylor’s voice brings me back to the present. “Are you okay?” he asks, brows furrowed, hand wrapped around my upper arm.

   I nod.
“Car accident. You wanna go swim?” I stand up and dust my jeans off. Taylor has a concerned look on his face but he nods and shrugs out of his shirt.

   I’m momentarily distracted watching his muscles tighten. “You gonna take yours off now, princess?” He raises his pierced eyebrow.

   I pull off my tank top, and my jeans short, and throw them to the side. I feel we’re not here to swim at all, that we’re here to stare at each other. Taylor licks his lips and eyes me. “Very impressive,” he whispers, grabbing my hand.

   I glance down at his abs. “Meh.”

   He throws his head back and laughs. It’s loud, carefree and addictive. I suddenly want him to keep laughing. “We’ll see,” he says, winking.

   He drags me to the water, and I screech as the water sinks us in lower. Taylor grips my waist and pulls me close to him. “It’s fucking freezing,
Tay.”

   He smiles and pulls me closer to the water fall. “Once you get in and get used to it, it’ll be fine.” He pulls me as my body adjusts to the coldness. The water laps at my face, and I try to keep my head up. We go u
nder the waterfall and behind it is a hollowed out cave.

   “Wow, this is kind of spooky, Taylor.” Taylor lifts himself up onto the edge of the rock and helps me up beside him. Our feet dangle in the water. The hum of the water hitting the lake below is peaceful.

   “Yeah, but it’s kind of awesome,” he says, running his fingers through his dark, brown hair. A few splatters of water are still lingering on his head and it makes him look like he is freshly showered. The thought makes me blush. “Are you blushing, Lay?”
   I shake my head. “Why would I be?” I ask.

   He lifts and eyebrow and brings his lips to the hollow part beneath my ear. “You tell me, sweetheart.
You thinking about our
one kiss
last night? Or the back seat of the Mustang?”

   I turn my head to keep from smiling, why does he make my stomach twist like this? “It was hardly worth remembering, Taylor.”
I lie. We both know it was worth remembering. Hell, it’s worth savoring for the rest of my life.

   He scoots closer to me, his fingers sliding against my
bra strap. “Maybe, I can give you something worth remembering this time,” he whispers, his tongue gliding against my neck.

   I grip the rocks beneath me, my body warming from his touch. “Maybe that’s not such a good idea,” I say, barely getting my sentence out.

   “Maybe you should let loose, and let me take care of you…again. Nothing you don’t want to do,” he says.

   I close my eyes and enjoy the way his hand grips my waist, and his tongue glides over the
strap of my bra. “Maybe, just
one kiss
,” I say.

  Taylor smiles into my neck, grabs my waist and pins me underneath him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like my
one kisses.”

   I try to focus in on his face, but I’m head is spinning with possibilities.
He could have me once, right?
I’ve had one night stands with people before? No strings attached, needs met and then they’re gone, the way I like it. “One time, Taylor,” I mumble. “Just once,” I say.

  His tongue travels down my cleavage but he stops abruptly. He furrows his brow and looks down at me. “You’re saying you want to have sex with me?
Only once?”

   I nod.
“Once.”

   He grabs my breast.
“No, not once. Not twice. Neither would be enough for me, Lay. Don’t ya get it? I want you.”

  
Don’t ya get it? I want you.
The words sink into my skull so deeply, I’m afraid I’ll never stop replaying those words. I want him, too. I want things I can’t have. I shake my head, and screw my eyes shut. “I can’t. I can’t do that, it’s against the rules.”

   H
e lifts himself up on his elbow, eyes fixed on mine. “What rules, Layla? What are you talking about?”

  
Damn it. My big ass mouth
. “It’s nothing important.”

  
I try and sit up but he presses me back down, his grip holding my arms above my head. “What rules, I’m not letting you up until you tell me.”

   Anger flushes through me as I struggle against him. His face stays calm, but he never lets his grip loosen. “Okay,” I say.
“My dad’s rules. Never get caught. Never get too close.”

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