Make Me Yours Page 3

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 m
ore 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.

  Cindy left earlier than me, bitching me out about my anti-social and lunatic attitude. What the hell is wrong with you? What did you talk to Taylor about? Why do you have to be so weird, he is a hottie. I flipped her the bird and locked the bathroom door.

  Now, I can hear her talking from the outside of the classroom. She is laughing. I round the corner, but Cindy isn’t in her normal seat. I search the cluttered classroom and find her sitting at the top of the auditorium between Taylor and Brett. I sigh. This is not happening. She waves at me, hand flapping around in the air but I pretend not to see her.

  She calls my name but I sit down and open my notes. She has no boundaries. She is insane if she thinks I’m going to sit with them. No way in Hell. I flip through the pages, and try to remember all of the things I know our teacher will have on our test. The desk next to me squeaks from someone sitting down and I glance up. Taylor looks down at me, a smile riding on his lips.

  “How’s it going, Layla?”

  “The same as the last time, Taylor.” I shut my book and turn toward him. “Didn’t we make a deal last night? You leave me alone if I give you a kiss?” I know my cheeks are flaming from this, but I need him to leave me alone.

  He grins, and leans forward. “What can I say, I’m a bad liar.”

  He is a bad liar. I highly doubt that. As much ass as he gets, I know that he can lie like the rest of them. “If you don’t get away from me, I’m going to ask the professor if she can move you.”

  He shrugs, and brushes a piece of hair away from my eyes. “Stop touching me,” I say, swatting his hand away. “I gave you a kiss, Taylor. Now scram.”

  His manly scent hits me like water to the face. “Aw, Layla. The deal was I’d leave you alone for a while. It’s been awhile. It’s been almost,” he looks at his watch, that looks like it cost as much as my entire outfit, “eight hours. Which, for me, it’s about seven hours too long.”

  I grip my desk. This guy is asking for it. I’m giving him the stare down, when he starts to pull up his shirt sleeves, showing his massively large forearms that are covered in tattoos. “So, you have any plans tonight?”

  “It’s a Monday,” I say. “I have to work, and do homework.”

  “Work at the coffee shop?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “It’s none of your business.” I really don’t have to work at the coffee shop. But, Eric decided he wanted to go to the pool hall with me to hang out. We never get the same night off, so I said yes. And while he finds some guy to talk to, I plan on hustling a few suckers for a couple hundred dollars. The electric bill is due, and I saw these shoes I want from Rue 21.

  Taylor scratches his scruffy chin and smiles. “Why won’t you just admit that you like me, Layla? We had an amazing time this weekend, let me take care of you.”

  Blood rushes to my cheeks. Let me take care of you. “I’m trying to study,” I mumble, shifting through my papers.

  Taylor laughs, and leans back in Cindy’s chair. I’m waiting for him to move, but I quickly realize he has no intention of moving. When Dr. Walter walks in, I sigh in relief. She is holding a stack of papers, I assume to be the test, and is sipping on a cup of coffee.

  “Hello my lovelies, are we ready to express ourselves about John Grimsham today?” She is smiling, ear to ear, her glasses sliding down her nose. Dr. Walter can’t be over thirty-five, but dresses like an eighty year old.

  Everyone mumbles underneath their breath, but she is clueless and starts passing out test. Taylor passes mine to me. I scan the test and sigh. I know most of them. I fill in my test, hurrying to get the hell out of dodge. I flip my test over, and stand up. Taylor’s arm reaches out and snatches my test. He places it on top of his, and walks down to our professor’s desk. She glances up and him and smiles.

  My mouth is hanging open. He is standing by the door waiting on me. So much for my run for it.

  I grab my bags and push past him at the door. “So, where ya going?” he asks, taking a few long strides to catch up with me. A few students are littering the hallways, talking against the wall, sitting in the commons by the double doors.

  “My home. I have to clean my house.” Which is a small lie. I do plan on cleaning, studying, then hitting the pool hall with Eric. But, not before I go to the cafeteria for some grub.

  “Hmm,” Taylor says, grabbing my arm. We are in the center of the commons, but no one is looking at me. “Break your work plans,” he says. “Come with me to the pool hall tonight, we’ll hang out. No bedroom, no pool table, no touching…unless you beg me for it.”

  He smiles, and my chest thumps harder. His touch is tempting, his lips worth savoring. No, Layla. I try not to imagine him touching me, kissing me, his fingers on my most personal place. “That’s not a good idea. I’ve already told you, Taylor.”

  Taylor’s eyes never leave mine. “If you don’t agree to go with me, I’ll sing to you right here and now in front of everyone.”

  No. Fucking. Way. I cock my head to the side. “Please, we both know you’re not going to sing in front of--,”

  “Layla!” he yells, singing off key, getting down on his knee. “Please, don’t do this to me. Please,” he yells, biting his lip to keep from smiling.

  Everyone in the commons turns to stare at me. Some girls have their mouths open, some are sneering but most are wide-eyed and laughing. “Please, I swear I’ll cater to you. I’ll have sex with you whenever you want me to!”

  Mother fucker. I try to pull my hand from his grip, but he pulls me tighter, pushing his face into my stomach, grabbing my ass. “Please,” he says, dropping his singing voice to an utterly fake cry.

  “Get up, Taylor,” I grit through my teeth.

  “Layla, I have to have you,” he yells again.

  Oh. My. God. By this time, some of our classmates have finished their test and made it out to the doors. Cindy is standing by Brett, her mouth is hanging open. Brett is laughing hysterically, hands on his knees.

  “I’ll go,” I whisper. “Get up and I’ll go. Just get the hell up,” I say.

  Taylor looks up, a smirk on his face. He stands up and kisses my cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.” He walks off, like nothing just happened.

  I’m going to murder him.

  “You’re ridiculous,” Cindy says, slamming a Coke on her lunch tray. She is shaking her head fiercely back and forth, as I follow her to our occasional table in the lunchroom. I’m not too big on the food, but it’s good when you’re broke, which lately, has been the case. “He sang to you, got down on his knees.”

  “He likes attention. And plus, who are you to give any advice? You’re just a horny teenager,” I say, sitting down across from Cindy on our small circle table.

  “Shows how much you know,” she opens her Coke, “I’m turning twenty next month.”

  “Exactly, next month.” I take a big mouth full of mashed potatoes, and spit them back out onto the plate. “Gross. Instant.”

  Cindy smiles. “They don’t have instant in Dallas?”

  Pain stirs in my stomach. Mom never made instant potatoes. She always made them fresh, the best way. “You okay?” Cindy asks, waving her hand in front of my face.

  I nod and tear into my chicken nugget. “Fine, just zoned out for a minute. You have pl
ans tonight? I’m going out with Eric.”

  She nods and sips on her drink. “Brett is coming over.” She wiggles her shoulders.

  “Are you guys…like…doing it?”

  She lifts an eyebrow. “I am what you call a normal college student. I have sex. Unlike you, who hustles people for money. You better not be doing that tonight. You know Eric can’t protect you.”

  “And you can?”

  She squeezes her muscle and smiles. “Hell yeah, I can. Uh oh,” she mumbles taking a bite of her pizza. I follow her gaze.

  Shit. Taylor and Brett are walking into the cafeteria. “Keep your head down and they may not see us,” I say.

  “Hey, Brett!” she calls, waving her hand above her head.

  “Shut up, now, no, Cindy,” I say, trying to get her to stop moving around like a maniac. I glance up, and they are walking right toward us. Great. Taylor is smiling at me, holding his tray in one hand and runs his other hand through his hair. His jeans ride low on his waist and his shirt fits him just right. I push the tingle in my stomach away. It’s just my hormones.

  “I hate you,” I mumble, as they sit down, to Cindy. She rolls her eyes and wraps her arms around Brett’s large shoulders.

  “Sup, hustler,” Taylor says, sitting down beside me. He reaches over and grabs my opened Dr. Pepper bottle, and takes a large swig.

  His lips wrap around the circular top and my heart flops. Then I come to my senses. “Hey, have you ever heard of asking first.” I snatch the bottle from his lips.

  He smiles, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yea, but I knew you’d say no.” He leans in. “So, I just took it.”

  I fight the warmth sliding under my skin.

  Cindy narrows her eyes at me. “Be nice,” she mouths.

  I flip her the bird.

  “You not liking the food, Hus?” Taylor asks, scooping some chips from his Cool Ranch bag onto my plate.

  “That’s Layla’s favorite,” Cindy says.

  I take a ship and crunch on it. “Yeah, thanks,” I mumble, looking anywhere but him.

  “Hey, Tay,” someone says behind us. A long-legged blonde slides onto Taylor’s lap, wrapping her slender arms around his neck. “Had a great time last week. Wanna hang out again?”