by Kar, Alla
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You Are Mine
Alla Kar
2013. Copyright. Alla Kar
All rights reserved. No parts of this books may be reproduced or transmitted in any forms without written permission from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes. If you are reading this book and have not purchased it or won it in an author contest this book has been pirated. Please delete and support the author by purchasing the ebook from one of its distributors.dpg
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and storyline are created from author’s imagination or are used fictionally.
Chapter One
Layla
I run my fingertip along the side of the piece of paper. The police didn’t find anything special about the paper used, or the drawing of the scorpion in the center. There is no evidence to find is what they told me. Of course, there wouldn’t be any evidence until I was dead on the sidewalk.
I finally found you.
Remember me?
I’m not finished with you yet.
The words have haunted me for two weeks. His face is everywhere I turn. I fight the urge to tear the note up and throw it away. But, for some reason, I keep it. It’s folded in half twice, shoved under a little notebook on top of Taylor’s nightstand beside his bed. I run my fingers over my face and get myself together. I have to at least pretend I’m not petrified. It came out of nowhere. I didn’t even realize I was on his hit list. I did get away, but it seemed he had forgotten, or realized I wasn’t worth the hassle.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes. Taylor will be out of the shower any minute and I can’t let him see me this worried. He has been on my ass for the last week about not going back to school until I’m ready. I tell him I’m ready, because I want to get college over with. I don’t want to be a dropout. He sees right through me. I had to beg him to let me go today. I’m still not one hundred percent sure he is going to let me go.
“You’re not ready.”
I knew it. I straighten my shoulders and stand up. “Taylor, I have to go back to class. I was hurt, not killed,” I say, grabbing my bag sitting beside me on his bed. I slid it over my shoulders and grip the straps.
A sigh escapes Taylor’s full lips. I glance up and give him a once over. His elbow is rested against the side of the door frame to his room. He is shirtless from his shower and his jeans hang low on his hips. His large hand is twisted into his wet hair, that’s grown over the last two weeks. The other hand is shoved in the pocket of his low-rise jeans.
“Layla, don’t push yourself. Don’t feel like you have to go back so soon,” he says.
Pushing past him, I grab an apple from the bowl on his counter. Turning back to face him, I slowly make the distance between us. His gray eyes are narrowed, his bottom lip between his teeth. I rub my hand up his hardened chest and breathe in his scent. “Taylor, I need you to calm down, put on a shirt and drive me to class. Don’t worry, you’ve done way too much of that lately.”
It’s the truth. He’s worried too much already. He shouldn’t even have to deal with any of this. Neither should Cindy who has been staying with Brett for the last two weeks. I never wanted to keep my friends from living their lives. This is what Daddy was talking about, getting too close to people. I have screwed around with other people’s lives. I go to bed every night shaking. Taylor never says anything, only holds me to him and listens to me cry. I know why he is so worried, because he does know my fear. But, I can’t live in fear my entire life.
I won’t.
“How can I help but worry?” Taylor asks, wrapping his arms around my lower back. His mouth nuzzles my neck and I feel something hard in his jeans. Oh no.
I point my finger right at his nose. “Stop it right now,” I say. A smile crawls up his scruffy jaw and he runs his tongue ring against my throat.
His fingers skim my arm making their way to the straps of my backpack. He smiles and slides them down my arm until I hear the thud of it hitting the floor. “Come on, Layla. I have to have you,” he whispers.
“Nope,” I say, reaching for my bag. But he grabs my waist and pins me down below him on the soft carpet. “Taylor,” I protest, trying not to laugh. “I have ten minutes before my first class. Let me up.”
He hums underneath his breath and trails his index finger under my shirt. “How about you wait until tomorrow, then we can go to Lit of the South together?”
Aggravated, I narrow my eyes and lock my jaw. He growls, sits up and pulls me with him. “Layla, you’re so fucking hard headed. I’m just trying to keep you safe, damn it.”
“I know,” I say, grabbing his jaw. “I just can’t stay cooped up in here like this, Taylor. You’ve got to understand.”
His gray eyes soften and he nods. “I know, hustler. I just can’t stop thinking of what that guy would do to you. I’d…”he trails off, running his fingers through his hair. “I’d kill ‘em.”
I know he would. Hands down. “I know. But, what do you think he is going to do? Walk into my college class and take me down? Doubtful, Taylor. Now, go put a shirt on and take me to class.”
He doesn’t look fully convinced, but he nods. He disappears into his room and I let out a soft sigh. I know as soon as I walk out of his door my heart is going to start pumping like a jackhammer. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Mittens’ soft fur rubs against my flip-flop clad foot. I reach down and rub my hand over her gray fur. She doesn’t have a worry in the world. Lucky her.
When I ended up in the hospital I thought my troubles were over. Sure, I shouldn’t have gone after Rod, but I couldn’t go to the police. He would have gotten out of it and Taylor might be dead, or Cindy. All for a hundred dollars. I knew he had plenty of money, but it was the principal. I had hustled him over chump change, but it pissed him off. Lucky for me, Taylor went looking for me, or I’d be dead. My friends would be safe, but I’d be dead. Now, I had bigger things to worry about. Because being beat up is never enough.
Taylor walks out of the bedroom pulling a T-shirt over his torso. He has a worried look on his face so I give him a fake smile, which makes his frown soften. “You ready?” Taylor asks.
No. Against my better judgment I head for the door. “Sure, let’s go.”
Taylor’s hand wraps around my elbow as soon as our feet hit the pavement outside his apartment building. The sun beams down hotly on us, and I’m glad my T-shirt is thin. I seem to be sweating more than normal. Nonchalantly, I glance around looking for anything suspicious. I’m sure I would recognize the guy if I saw him, it’s kind of hard to miss a guy with a large scorpion on his face and pale blue eyes.
Taylor’s hand is still snaked around my elbow, holding onto me tightly. It’s kind of uncomfortable, but I don’t say anything as he opens his Hummer door and lets me jump in. He walks swiftly around to the driver’s side and shuts the door behind him. He lets out a small breath, but doesn’t say anything as we back out of the apartment complex and head toward class. It shouldn’t be a race to the car everything we leave the apartment.
When we pull out onto the road, he leans back and sighs. “Okay, Layla. We have some rules we need to put into place.”
This should be interesting. Raising an eyebrow, I gesture for him to continue.
“First off, I have to know where you’re at all the time. No exceptions, Layla.”
“A bit extreme, but proceed.”
Taylor squints his eyes and runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “Okay, second, you have to keep your phone on vibrate during class on your desk, so I can get in touch with you. And when you’re not in class have it on loud. Third, if you have any
problems call me, text me, send me a damn carrier pigeon, but do not go off by yourself to take care of it. You see where that got you last time.”
I roll my eyes and pick at the fringe on my jeans. Sure, when you put it like that it sounds terrible. I was trying to be the hero and not let my friends get killed. Sue me.
I give him a sarcastic smile. “Okay, it’s a deal.”
Taylor laughs, it’s deep and raw. It still sends shivers down to my toes. “You will be punished if you don’t follow the rules, Ms. James.”
“I may enjoy your punishment if it includes you taking off your clothes, Taylor.”
Taylor’s lip twitches and he cocks an eyebrow. “So, you got the rules, or not?”
I huff and reach for the door handle but he grabs me and pulls me toward him. “Do you have the rules, or not?”
Sighing, I nod. “Got it, Taylor.”
“Good,” he says, before reaching over and kissing my neck. “Now, get your ass to class. I’ll see you afterwards.” I get out, grab my bag and start toward the building. “Remember the rules,” I hear before I start up the steps. I flip him off behind my back and walk into the double doors.
Econ is a classroom set in the back of the business building. It’s about a five minute walk back there, but I make it just as the professor is reaching for the door.
Mr. Matthews’ brown eyes widen as he looks at me. “Hello, Ms. James. It’s nice to have you back. Come in and take your seat.” He opens the door wider, and I walk in.
Everyone looks up and stares. I groan. Great, this is exactly what I expected. I’m now the girl that was in the hospital and was attacked. Well, I kind of attacked him. I’m not sure which one is worse. The entire story was in the local newspaper, and I’m sure it was in the campus’ newspaper, too. I straighten my shoulders and walk back to my normal desk. No one is sitting in it, which has been the best part of coming back so far. It’s comfortable and I can prop my feet up on the desk in front of me because it’s empty.
I pull out my notebook, pen and my phone. I already have a text from Taylor.
Make it to class?
I hide it under my desk and text back. No, I was kidnapped.
Punishment awaits you.
As long as whips and chains are involved.
“Okay, class take out your books to chapter thirteen.” Thirteen? Damn, how many chapters had they gone over since I was gone?
Mr. Matthews pushes his glasses up his long nose and looks over at me with a frown. “Ms. James, you’re pretty behind. So, I suggest you get with the econ tutor Damon,” he points toward the opposite side of the room, “and get caught up.”
I glance over were Mr. Matthews pointed. A dark haired guy, I don’t remember seeing before, is staring at me. His face is scruffy and his lips pull up in a smirk when I look at him. I raise an eyebrow at him and turn back toward my notebook. Well, doesn’t he look like a pompous ass? Great, just great.
The rest of class goes on in a total bore, like always. Mr. Matthews assigns us some homework that I plan on letting Taylor help me with. I can feel Damon staring at me, but I shove my books in my bag and keep my eyes focused on my desk. It isn’t until I see a dark shadow fall over my desk that I look up. Damon is taller than I imagined and his eyes are a light green.
He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Layla, right?” he asks. He looks a little like Steven Straight, but much more alternative. His shirt is plaid and pushed up to his elbows and he has some Doc Martins on that looks like something Wolverine would wear. His hair is shaggy and his lips full. He isn’t as muscular as Taylor, but still built.
I stand up and sling my bag over my shoulder. “Yep, that’s me.”
He offers me his hand. “Damon,” he says. He has an almost cocky grin on his face, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and pretend that is just how he normally smiles. I take it and give him a small shake. “So, you’ve missed a couple weeks? We need to get you caught up. What’s your schedule like?”
I move around him and gesture for him to follow me out the door. “Well, most of my classes are in the morning. I have work after class, but I’m normally home around eight at the latest. I have Tuesday and Thursday off, so I’m free those days from twelve on. What about you?”
He swallows and scratches his jaw. “Well, I started a new job and I don’t really know my hours yet. But, I think I’m off Thursday. I can probably get you caught up in a few sessions.”
“Sounds good,” I say.
“You live by yourself?”
I shake my head. “No, I live with my boyfriend.”
He chuckles beneath his breath. “Of course. Would it be weird to meet there?”
I shake my head. “No, it would probably be better. My boyfriend doesn’t exactly like me out by myself after the incident.”
“Heard about that. Really sorry that happened to ya. But, you wouldn’t be by yourself. You’d be with me.” He smiles.
God, Taylor is going to love this guy.
He pushes the door opened for me and I stop in my tracks when I get to the steps. Taylor is leaned against the building, his foot tapping nervously. Damn. He would think someone kidnapped me. I guess me getting out a few minutes after the other students freaked him out.
Taylor grabs my arm. “What the hell, Layla? You didn’t answer your phone and--,” he trails off looking at Damon. “Can I help you?” he asks.
I snatch my arm away from him. “Taylor, this is Damon. He is my econ tutor, since I missed two weeks. This is my boyfriend Taylor.”
Damon smiles and lets out a loud laugh. “What’s so funny?” Taylor asks, taking a step toward him.
Damon waves him off. “I didn’t realize Taylor Jacks was your boyfriend. What’s up man, heard all about you.” He offers Taylor his hand.
Taylor looks down at it, like it may bite him. “Doing great, now if you’ll excuse us,” Taylor says, without shaking his hand.
I mentally growl at Taylor. It’s going to be hell having the session at the apartment. “Okay, Damon. You want to meet at the library tomorrow--,”
“No, you don’t need to be out, Layla.” He turns toward Damon. “Meet her at our apartment tomorrow. I live at the Ridge Apartments, 117C.”
Damon lifts his head high and grins again. “Okay, I’ll see ya tomorrow, Layla.” He winks and rushes down the steps.
Taylor glances down at me and narrows his gray eyes. “Really? You had to pick the biggest douchebag you could find, didn’t you?”
“First off, I didn’t pick him. Mr. Matthews assigned him to me. And secondly, he didn’t do anything for you to call him a douchebag. You’re just jealous, as always.”
Taylor barks out a laugh and pulls me close to his chest. “I’m. Not. Jealous. I just don’t like the way he looked at you.”
I’m pretty sure he didn’t look at me any kind of way. I push against Taylor, but he grabs my ass and holds me close to him. “Where do you think you’re going?” he whispers into my ear. Shivers run down my spine. “You didn’t follow the rules. You’re going to be punished,” he says.
A pool of warmth forms between my legs, and I try to push it away. “We’re on campus. I have to be at my next class in,” I look at my watch, “ten minutes. Then I have to go to work. So, my punishment will have to wait.”
Taylor makes a low humming sound in his chest, but steps back from me. I hate the distance, but being close to Taylor only leads to one thing, sex. He cracks his neck and jabs his finger over his shoulder. “Okay, let’s go. I’m taking you.”
Of course you are.
Chapter Two
Taylor
“Calm down, I’m sure she’s fine,” Brett says. He is munching on a bag of chips and hardly listening to a damn thing I say. If football is on, I think all of his brain shuts down.
I tighten my grip on the arm of my chair. I know I’m being overprotected and ridiculous. But, I can’t have Layla getting hurt again. My phone buzzes and I grab it.
I’ll be off in fi
fteen minutes. You can come get me.
I stand up. “I’m taking that was Layla?” Brett asks, never looking away from the TV.
“Yeah, I’ll be back in a bit.”
Brett waves me off, and I jet out of the door. I automatically look around for anyone suspicious. I don’t know what I expect? For him to be standing out in the open, or sitting right in front of my apartment. This guy could be a professional killer for all I know. I run my fingers through my hair and slid into my Hummer. I start toward the coffee house and relax into my seat. I hadn’t heard from Layla until my last text and it released a lot of tension in my shoulders. And if we didn’t have enough to worry about, now we have some douchebag tutor that’s going to be hitting on her. She may not see it, but I do. I used to be him.
Layla is standing at the door of the coffee house when I pull up. Her visor is over her head, and her Java City shirt fits tight to her chest. If we weren’t in public, I’d pull it off of her. I drive up to the steps and see someone standing beside her. Damon. He is wearing a Java City shirt and my blood runs cold thinking about it.
Gritting my teeth, I roll down my window. “You coming, baby?” I yell.
Layla nods and starts walking toward the car. I hear Damon yell something out and I grip the steering wheel tight. Layla gets in and looks over at me. Her blue eyes are large, her lip between her teeth and her hands gripping her wallet. “Don’t start,” she says.
Tightening my jaw, I raise an eyebrow. “What in the hell is he doing?”
She sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know. He got a job here and I work with him now. Can we please not jump to conclusions? I’ve had a long day, I’m tried and I want to go home.”
Hearing her call my place home, makes me smile, despite that fact I want to knock Damon’s head off his shoulders. Can he get any more desperate? But, for Layla’s sanity, I reach over and grab her hand. “I know something that will make you feel better.”
Despite her irritation, I see a smile curl up her lip. She glances over at me in that I want you now kind of way and winks. “You do? What may that be?” she asks, reaching over and running her hand over my growing cock.
