Make Me Yours (2 page)

  
“That’s my cue to leave, before you embarrass both of us.”

  
“Grandma.”

  
“Skank.”

  
She smiles. “If the stiletto fits. I’ll text you when I get to their house.”

  
“Sure,” I say, pushing my way back through the crowd.

  
The cool April wind brushes against my legs and I shiver when I push open the overly heavy metal door. Digging through my pockets, I pull out my bus pass. I hate the bus. It smells like ass, and not to mention the shady characters that stare at the back of your head. Hardly any college kids ride the bus, but since I have no car, it’s that or walking. What’s left of my hustling money has gone into a huge jar hidden in my closet. I plan on getting a used car one day, hopefully soon. “Leaving already?”

  
Damn, does this guy not have a life?
“Look,” I say, turning toward him. The street light hits his face and I see the medal piercing in his eyebrow.
Great, I’m stuck outside with a pierced freak. I’m gonna get raped. Well…maybe it fits him just a little.
“I get it, I do. You’re the campus hottie that gets any girl he wants. And I’m the girl that doesn’t want anything to do with you.” I sigh. “That’s life in the fast lane, kid. It’s been nice chatting but I have to get home. I have work in the morning.”

  
Taylor- I think that’s what Cindy called him- laughs. It’s the same deep laugh as before. “You’re funny, Layla. Very good actress.” He steps forward, towering over me. “That’s why I don’t believe you really want to go home right now.”

  
“Mindless dreaming, Taylor. But- since you know- what do you think I do want to do right now?”

  
He shrugs and looks over at a crowd of drunken kids stagger out of the bar. “Not go home. Your friend, Cindy is coming to my house with Brett. Wanna come?”

  
Can this guy get any denser?
“Are you deaf?”

  
He steps closer, a smile crawling up his heavy jaw. A gust of wind slaps me in the face, sending Taylor’s scent over me. It’s manly, like a freshly showered
Abercrombie
model. Not that I’ve had the pleasure of actually smelling one, but I imagine that’s about what they smell like. “No. Desperate.”

  
I take a step back. “You’re desperate for a lay and come to me? What a charmer.”

  
He shakes his head. “To get inside that evil little mind of yours. You hustle, -what ten, twenty-guys a week and seem to have no strings attached to anyone. That’s strange. What’s your game?”

  
He really isn’t
that
bad looking. I shrug and play with the fringe of my shirt. “Players never reveal their plays,
Taylor
. That’s what makes them good. You should know.”

  
He bounces back on his heels, then smirks. “I’m not the player here, you’re the player. Why don’t you come show me what you got?”

  
I fake a yawn. “Too tired.”

  
He tilts his head to the side. “I have a pool table at my crib. One hour, if you’re not having fun, I’ll escort you home myself.”

  
I glance at my cell phone and huff. This guy is not giving up. “One hour.”

  
He smiles, that ruthless smile. “That’s all I need.”

  
Taylor lives in
the upper eastside of town. In other words, where the rich people send their kids after high school. It’s gated, and looks like it’s been built for royalty. Cindy is in the back seat of Brett’s BMW with me, it’s sleek, black and shiny. She keeps talking but I’m not listening to her. Sometimes I wish she came with a damn mute button.

  
Cindy was a second choice for a roommate. I was actually supposed to live on campus, and when the dorms filled up, I had to find a place to live fast. I was not going back home to save my life. Too many memories lay there to haunt me. Cindy’s last roommate had graduated, leaving her with the rent to pay alone. One flier and phone call later, I was moving into the two bedroom apartment near campus. Luckily or unluckily, however you see it, Cindy and I bonded a little more than I planned. It’s not my agenda to make friends, not while I’m hustling, it never ends well. Cindy is a pain in the ass, but I love her anyway.

  
“What do you think, Layla?” Cindy asks.

  
“Huh?” I say, glancing over at her.

  
She huffs. “You’re not paying a damn bit of attention. Sometimes I wish I could get in your head and see what goes on in there.”

  
Taylor laughs from the front seat and I debate slapping the back of his head.
Asshole.
“I was just falling asleep from the damn long drive out here.”

  
“Never been to this part of town?” Brett asks.

  
I shake my head but realize he can’t see. I would never be able to afford this place but I don’t say this. “Once or twice,” I mumble.

  
We pull into a parking spot, and everyone gets out. Taylor lives on the first floor, and I’m glad. It’s an easier escape route with no stairs. I don’t plan on staying long, as soon as my hour is up Taylor is going to take me home.

  
Brett grabs Cindy and puts her over his shoulder, carrying her screaming into the house. She pretends to fight, hitting his ass. “You want a ride?” Taylor asks, eyeing me from the sidewalk. His voice shoots nerves through me.

  
“I have legs,” I say, stepping up onto the porch of his apartment.

  
A crooked smile trails up his face and his eyes lower to my legs before I turn my back to him.
Don’t look at me like that.
“Very long and nice ones at that,” he whispers from behind me.

  
I’m glad I’m facing forward or he might see the burning underneath my cheeks. Taylor’s apartment is far larger and nicer than ours. His living room is filled with leather couches, a huge TV and enough Blu-Rays to last three years. The door closes behind me. I hear Brett close a door and Cindy yelp out. I can only imagine what they’re gonna be doing soon.

  
“So, you ready to show me what you got?” Taylor asks.

  
I examine my nails. “Sure, if you think you’re ready for that kind of punishment, Taylor.” He laughs, sending a hum radiating from his chest.

  
He leans down close to my ear, “I can endure more punishment than you think.”

  
A warmth spreads over my stomach, traveling downward to... ya know.
Shit.
I take a step back and gesture toward the room. “It’s your house, lead the way.”

  
He smirks, and walks toward a small hallway. I follow him into a lit room, which has video games, air hockey, pool, and three theater seats in front of a large pull down TV.
Swanky.

  
“So,” Taylor says, shutting the door. I watch as he grabs two pool sticks and hands one to me. “I see you won off stripes last time?

  
Very observant. I nod.

  
“Well forget the break, you can have stripes.”

  
I nod. “You’re going down, buddy.” I say.

  
He laughs. “Wait, we need to make the deal a little more interesting.” He steps closer to me, his forearms touching my back. “For every time our opponent gets one in, we take one off.”

  
My head snaps up. “Is this a so called cleaver way to get me naked, Taylor? Because, I’d need too much alcohol for that.”

  
Leaning against the table beside me, he laughs. “Right, because I’m so repulsive that you couldn’t stand to see me naked.”

  
My ears burn. Seeing him naked…didn’t seem like
that
bad of an idea. His shoulders were kind of large and the tattoos, I…I did like those…a little. I shake my head.
This cannot happen. Daddy’s second rule: Never get too close. They’ll hurt you something fierce.

  
He laughs, stepping closer, his mouth close to mine. “Does thinking about me naked…bother you, Layla?”

  
I huff, it’s shaky.
Why does he smell so good?
“Hardly.”

  
He smiles. “Then it shouldn’t be a problem, then, right?”

  
I grip my pool stick harder and shrug. “Of course not. You’ll be the only naked one anyway. So, I’m not too worried. Let’s do this, big dog.”

  
Taylor gives me a barley there smile. “Your break, sweetheart.”

  
Narrowing my eyes, I lean over the table and break. One goes in. Taylor raises an eyebrow. “You’re pretty desperate yourself.”

  
“Oh, really?”

  
He gives me a quick nod. “To see me naked.” He walks toward me. “All you have to do is ask, Lay. I’d be happy to oblige.” I keep my eyes focused, but I don’t let the fact that he calls me Lay go unnoticed.

  
Waiting for a remark, Taylor reaches behind him, taking his tight, grey shirt off. He tosses the fabric to the floor. I barely notice, because my eyes go to his chest. The tattoo I’d seen from earlier, wraps around his torso in a tribal pattern. My mouth is suddenly dry but I swallow the large dry lump and raise my eyes to his.

  
“My turn again,” I say, clearing my throat.

  
He smiles, leaning against the table. He nods. “Show me what you got, princess,” he whispers. I nod, bending over. I line up the stick. Taylor walks toward me, eyes watching closely. He smiles, tongue traveling over his bottom lip. “See something you like there, doll face?”

  
I smirk. “Hardly,” I mumble. I strike, the corner of the ball tips the pocket and shoots out. I gulp.
What the hell just happened? I never miss unless on purpose.

  
Taylor laughs, and the hum in his chest is deep from behind me. “Uh oh, princess. Looks like it’s my turn.”

  
Biting my lip, I stand up and smile. “Well, show me what you got then.” I let out a nervous laugh. Taylor grabs his stick, bends over the table and glances up at me. His gray eyes laughing at me.

  
He pulls back and sends a solid right into the pocket. My heart hammers through my ribcage. He leans up, leaning on the pool stick. He cocks his head to the side. “Lose that shirt, baby girl. Looks like you’re not the only one that’s desperate to see someone unclothed.”

  
Pushing back my embarrassment, I lift my chin and smile. I reach underneath my shirt, and pull the edge over my head. My cheeks are flaming, but I look him in the eye. “See something you like, princess?” I ask.

  
Taylor’s gaze drops to my breasts. “You have no idea,” he whispers. “My turn again, right?” I nod, thanking God I wore a descent bra. Taylor glances down at my jeans shorts and smiles. He knows he is going to make it. Hell, I know he’s going to make it. We both know my shorts are coming off.

  
He pulls back and sends the solid right into the pocket. He stands up, intertwining his hands behind his head. “Whew,” he blows out. “Looks like you’re gonna have to lose those jeans, too.” He shakes his head back and forth walking around the corner. “You need some help?” he asks, breathe coming in hot waves on my neck.

  
I crane my neck to look up at him. He lifts an eyebrow that is pierced. Daddy’s rule plays in my head.
Don’t get too close.
I open my mouth, then tug on my lip with my teeth. Taylor turns me toward the table, hands on each side of me. “A deal is a deal,” I whisper.

  
He nods, his tongue darting out to this bottom lip. “I wanna kiss you right now, Layla. Tell me I can kiss you,” he mumbles against my lips.

  
My breath catches. I have no idea what the hell has come over me, but I can’t help but nod. I want to feel the softness of his lips on mine. “Do it,” I mumble.

  
He leans in and the bubble of my dad’s rules burst around me. One hand grips my side, the other runs up through the back of my hair. I open my mouth, letting him trace his tongue on my bottom lip. I gasp as I feel the hard metal of his tongue ring. He pulls from me, breath in my ear, he runs his tongue against my earlobe. The hard object is cold on my skin. I let out a long sigh of want and grip his shoulders, bringing him down lower to my mouth. “Tell me stop, if you want me to stop,” he whispers. I shake my head, plunging my tongue inside his mouth. I dig my fingers into his solid arms, as he kisses me harder. He grunts, gripping my ass, sliding me onto the edge of the table. He steps between my legs, encircling them around his waist. My mind is fuzzy, he doesn’t look like a guy that would stop just because I want him to, but I can’t help but believe his words.
Tell me stop, if you want me to stop.

  
“Do you want to stop now?”