You Are Mine (Forever)

by Kar, Alla

  I groan and press the gas down harder. Getting home never seemed so important. “I think you know, sweetheart. I’m going to make you scream.”

  She chuckles and kisses her way down my neck. I fight to keep my eyes from closing from her touch. I swerve into the parking lot and jump out of the door. Layla is just getting out by the time I get to her. I grab her hips and pull her over my shoulder. She yelps out when I slap her ass.

  Brett is still sitting on the couch when I walk in. He lifts and eyebrow. “Hi, Layla,” he says.

  “Hey, Brett,” she says, laughing. I smile, give him a nod and walk into our room. I toss Layla on the bed. She falls clumsily, legs wide and breathing hard. She reaches up and pulls at her shirt. “I’ve been wanting this all day,” she says, running her fingers down her bare stomach to the top of her jeans.

  My dick jumps in my pants. Damn, she is so fucking hot. “Oh, yeah? What do you want, baby. I’ll give it to you.” I pull my shirt over my head and toss it to the side. I smile as her eyes slid down my torso.

  “That.” She points toward my cock. “Right now. In. Me.”

  Fuck me. I smile and walk toward her, running my fingers up the inside of her thigh. She spreads her legs wider giving me a view of her pussy. She groans when I run my finger underneath her panties to her slit. “Fuck, you’re wet, baby.”

  She smiles and arches her back, urging me on. Sliding her panties off, I bend down between her legs. She shakes with anticipation. I love that she wants me that bad. I press my mouth against her and taste her sweet flavor. She cries out, grabs a hold of my hair and pushes my mouth harder into her. Shit. I run my tongue over her again and again, until I feel her shake beneath me. “Damn it, you taste good,” I say, crawling on top of her. Grabbing her hair, I nuzzle her neck. “You ready for me?” I whisper.

  “Yes,” she lets out a shaky sigh.

  I reach down and unzip my pants, feeling free when I’m completely naked. My dick is diamond hard, and I can barely contain myself. I press myself to the tip of her entrance. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” She bites her lip and gives me her fuck me stare. You don’t have to ask me twice.

  I slam into her, making her toss her head back and cry out. “Oh, God, Taylor,” she moans, as I pull out and press back into her.

  “That feel good, baby girl?” I ask, wrapping my mouth around her perfectly round, small, pink nipple. She has the best tits and ass I’ve ever seen on one person.

  She nods, grinding her hips against me. She feels so soft beneath me, so tight and she smells so fucking good. I don’t know who I saved in a past life to deserve her but I’m glad she is here in my bed. “Baby,” she moans, rocking against me. “Take me. Give it to me.”

  Goddamnit. “I’ll give it to you,” I mumble. I wrap my hands around her wrists, pull her arms above her head and rock back against her. She wraps her long, tanned legs around me, pushing me harder into her. I move harder, making her arms move under my weight. “That feel good?” I ask, nibbling on her earlobe.

  “Yes, keep going, please,” she begs. I love to see her beg. She can say one thing and I’m undone. She can do what she wants with me and I’d be willing. Keeping her wrists in my grip, I reach between us and rub my finger against her clit.

  “Fuck,” she screams. I feel her undoing beneath me. She lets out a low groan and starts to shake. “God,” she says.

  Smiling, I wrap my arms around her and pump into her a few more times before I feel myself unraveling into her. She runs her hand over my back and into my hair. Jesus. I relax in her, kissing along her stomach up to her pouty mouth. “God, you feel so good,” I say, pulling out of her and pulling her on top of me. She straddles me and looks down.

  “Feel better?” I ask.

  She gives me a wicked smile. “You have no idea.” She scratches my chest and arms. I love when she does that.

  “So, what have you been doing since I’ve been gone?”

  I shrug. Waiting desperately for your return. “Watching TV with Brett,” I say, which isn’t a lie per se. She nods. “I’m sure he got a show tonight.”

  I laugh. “Well, I did tell you I was going to make you scream. I always live up to my promises.”

  She smiles. “That you did.” Slipping off of me, she stands up. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  I watch her slip on one of my long T-shirts and walk to the bathroom. I hear Brett says something and Layla laugh. It’s nice to hear her laugh. After she received the note in the mail, her laughter has been scarce. I know she’s scared, but too prideful to show it. I see the piece of the note sticking out on my nightstand. She reads it a lot. I pretend like I don’t know, but I do. I hear her crying every night. I do the only thing I can do, hold her. I don’t know when this will come to an end, or if it ever will, but I plan on protecting her as long as I can. Even if it comes down to a fight. Speaking of fighting, I have one in two days. I need to be practicing. I’ll have to go tomorrow - fuck, the douchebag is coming over to help Layla get ‘caught up’ tomorrow night.

  Brett raps on the door and hides his eyes. “Put some damn clothes on, man.”

  I reach down and pull some shorts on. “What’s up?”

  “I’m leaving, man. Cindy will be home soon, I don’t want to leave her there by herself for long. I’ll catch ya tomorrow.”

  I nod. “See ya later.” I haven’t ever told Layla, but I hate that Brett and Cindy have to be so cautious too. It’s enough for us to be so careful, but for them to have to be so careful when they had nothing to do with it, makes me fucking mad. Sighing, I roll over under the covers.

  I close my eyes and wait for Layla to come to bed. I need a full night’s sleep for tomorrow.

  Chapter Three

  Layla

  “Don’t do that.”

  Taylor looks down at me, raising a pierced eyebrow and giving me a what the hell look. “Do what?”

  “Look at me like I’m some sick person. You’ve done it three times already. I’m fine. I don’t need special attention, Taylor.” God, how uncontrollably protective and irritating he can be.

  Taylor shuts the partially opened classroom door. “You need to calm down. I’m not looking at you any different.” That’s a damn lie. “So, come on to class, please.”

  He pokes his lip out. I stop myself from smiling. “Whatever,” I say, opening the door. Every set of eyes dart toward Taylor and me as soon as the fluorescent lighting hits my eyes.

  Dr. Walters looks up over her glasses and her eyes widen. “So glad to have you back, Ms. James,” she says, gesturing us toward our seats.

  Yeah, really great. I give her a half-hearted smile and walk toward my desk. Taylor walks behind me and slides into the desk next to me. “You’re here,” Cindy says from the top of the classroom. She is smiling ear to ear, her boobs hanging over her shirt. I roll my eyes and motion for her to come sit by us. With Brett behind her, they slip in beside me. Cindy automatically pulls out her phone and starts texting.

  I feel Taylor’s hand on my thigh. I glance over at him. He is staring down at the teacher’s desk. When the guy standing by Dr. Walters turns around I know why Taylor is so tense. Damon is standing at the front of the classroom staring up at me. “Shit,” I mumble to myself.

  “Class, this is Damon. He is transferring from Ms. John’s Lit of the South class. You can go have a seat, son.”

  Damon nods and walks straight toward us. There are a few empty seats in front of our row and I’m sure that’s where he is heading. He plops down right in front of us and turns around in his seat. “What’s up?”

  Taylor’s grip tightens. “Nothing. Why are you following Layla? It’s very convenient that you happen to get switched to her class.”

  Damn it. Way to be inconspicuous, Taylor. Damon laughs, brushing his dark hair from his eyes and smiles. If Taylor weren’t the idol for male perfection, I would have to wipe the drool from my mouth. Damon is good-looking. “I’m not following her. I got a new job, and my schedule works better this way. I
do plan on helping her catch up tonight. We still on?”

  “Yeah, we--,”

  Taylor leans forward, his hands wrapping around the back of Damon’s chair. “I’ll be there with you two,” Taylor says. “Don’t push your luck. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt right now. I won’t have you trying to fuck my girl.”

  Taylor obviously has never been one to beat around the bush. My cheeks, I’m sure, are bright red. They feel like I’m holding fire in my mouth. Damon could not want me at all, and Taylor would assume he does.

  Damon holds two fingers up to his forehead in a salute. “Scout’s honor.” He grins, making him look like the Cheshire cat.

  I can feel the damn rage radiating off of Taylor. He isn’t known for his self-control, in any case in his life. Whether it be fighting, having sex, or just driving down the street, self-control isn’t in his nature. “Calm down,” I mumble to him.

  He glances over at me, his gray eyes wide and then rips his eyes back to Damon. Damon has turned around toward the front of the classroom.

  Cindy pokes her long, lime green fingernail into my arm. It kind of hurts. She points down at Damon and lifts an eyebrow.

  “Tell you later,” I mouth to her.

  Class couldn’t have been any slower. It’s ridiculous. Dr. Walter could be talking in German for all I know. I sit back and pretend to pay attention until class is over. When she finally dismisses us, I’m up and packing my things before Damon and Taylor can butt heads. Taylor has the same idea and basically pulls me down the stairs and into the hallway.

  I rub my aching shoulder. “Damn, rip off my arm, Tay.”

  He rolls his eyes and wraps his tattooed arm around my waist. “Come on, I’m starving, let’s go get something to eat.” I follow along side of him to the cafeteria and into the long line. We only eat in here ever so often. It’s not that bad really, it’s not like high school cafeteria food. At least you have options here. Taylor piles his plate until it’s overflowing, and we sit in our usual seats. Since we hightailed it out of class, I don’t know where Cindy and Brett went.

  Taylor starts in on his pizza first and guzzles half of his Gatorade. I raise an eyebrow but continue to nibble on my food. “So, about tonight with Damon,” Taylor says, through his mouth full of food.

  I so saw that coming. “What about it?” I snap.

  “Don’t be snappy,” he says. “I need you to be strictly business with him. Don’t lead him on, or I’ll have to whoop both of your asses.”

  “You think I would flirt with him? Are you jealous?”

  Taylor narrows his eyes. “You bet I am, now, no funny business. You are mine, no one else’s,” he says. Even though he is being completely ridiculous it sends a pool of wetness between my legs. I bite my lip and nod.

  “Okay, Daddy,” I say.

  He smiles, a dimple dented in his cheek. “I love when you call me that.” He winks. I’m about to start talking dirty to him when something or someone catches my eye. Out the window to my left, I see him. It’s almost like a dream. His eyes are only on me. And I’m too stunned to look away. My heart is thumping so fast against my ribs I can barely think straight, a blackness threatens to take over my eyes, but I kept them open. My body begins to shake uncontrollably.

  A shove, then a hand in front of my face brings me back to reality. Taylor’s gray eyes are right in front of me. A worry line is creased on his forehead. “Baby, can you hear me? What’s wrong, what did you see?”

  “I—I saw him. He is here,” I point toward the now empty window, “out there.”

  Taylor goes still. His eyes are wide, his breath ragged and body tense. “Layla, I want you to stay right here.” He points toward the table in front of me. “Don’t get up, don’t move. I’ll be back. You’ll be safe here with everyone. Don’t move.”

  He is gone before I can protest. I don’t move, not one muscle. I keep my eyes on the window where I saw him. His face had been so calm, so surreal. It was almost hazy, like a dream. His face looked worn and battered. His eyes were so piercing out from underneath his hat, but I knew it was him. His eyes, his tattoo. It was all the same as before, when I saw him shoot my mom and Dad. Without a second thought, he killed them both. That’s how I know he won’t think twice before killing Taylor, Cindy, Brett, or me. It was the ending to his job, nothing more, nothing less.

  “Layla.”

  I jump when I feel Taylor’s hand on my shoulder. “Fuck.”

  He sits down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see anyone out there. I checked the parking lot, the hallways, he—are you sure you saw him?”

  What? Am I sure? “What do you mean? Of course I saw him. Do you think I’m making it up or something?”

  He sighs, then rubs his fingers over his face. “I mean…you are paranoid…someone is after you, it would be normal for you to hallucinate or something.”

  I was not hallucinating. Pressing my lips together, I stand up. “I’m finished. Can we leave? I have to get back to the apartment, I have a tutor session tonight.”

  I hear Taylor mumble something beneath his breath, but he follows closely behind me toward his Hummer.

  ***

  Taylor hasn’t said anything to me since we left the lunchroom. He has sat in the living room pretending to do his homework. We all know Taylor never does his homework. I, on the other hand, have been pretending to sleep, be sexy coming out of the shower and bend over frequently in front of him. He gave me the same puh-lease look every time. So, I’m sitting in the dining room looking over some homework problems when someone knocks on the door. I know its Damon. Taylor knows its Damon, because for the first time tonight Taylor looks over at me.

  I tilt my head upwards and move toward the door. I’m about to grab the doorknob when Taylor grabs me by the waist and gently pushes me against the wall. His breath is hot on my face. The gray in his eyes has darken, and his face shows no sign of playfulness. “Look at me,” he snarls, gripping my chin with his hand. “You behave tonight Layla, or you’ll regret it, baby.”

  My heart is racing. Something about his stare is animalistic, so male, so dominate. My panties soak at the thought of him like this. “Is that a threat, Taylor?”

  “You can fucking bet on it, hustler,” he whispers into my ear. “Now, open the door before I break his goddamned face in.” He pushes away from me, walking over to his previous spot on the couch. What. The. Hell. My body is shaking from his tone, from his grip. I stare at him for a second, trying to calm my nerves. Taking a huge breath, because I’m anxious and turned on right now, I open the door.

  Damon is leaned on the doorframe a worried look on his face. “Are you okay?” he mouths out.

  I nod and smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Come on in,” I say, waving him in.

  He frowns but finally follows me inside. His eyes rake over the room slowly, until they finally land on Taylor.

  Taylor lights a cigarette, which I’ve only seen him do twice before right before a fight. I stiffen at his eyes, they’ve narrowed and are intensely staring at Damon. Please, don’t start a fight. I try to mentally tell him this. His cigarette hangs from his mouth, and a smile creeps up his face. Taking a long drag he says, “Hi, Damon.” He blows a puff of smoke from his lips. “Right own time, what a gentleman.”

  Damon stares at Taylor, before gesturing toward the dining room table. “Should we start?” he asks.

  I nod, without looking back at Taylor I go sit in my previous seat. Damon slides in across from me, opening his econ book to our homework. “So, let’s go over what you missed.”

  Damon starts with the week the incident happened. He moves slowly, making sure I’ve gotten everything before moving on. I can feel Taylor’s eyes on us, and I’m glad Damon is sitting as far away as he can. I’m sure the back of his head is burning from Taylor’s glare. “So, you think you have it?” he asks about an hour later.

  I scratch my head. Hell no I don’t have it. “I think I have the first part but not the second.”

  “I can sta
y and help you so more if you’d like,” Damon asks.

  Taylor snorts. “I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  Ah, hell. “Taylor,” I snap. “Stop.” I stand up and smile down at Damon. “How about we meet Thursday to get the rest?”

  Damon smiles, ear to ear and stands up. “Sure, walk me out?”

  “The hell she will,” Taylor shouts. I can hear the anger in his voice, but I don’t look away from Damon. I can’t make myself understand how insecure Taylor is being. He has nothing to worry about. But, there is this dominate trait that keeps him from letting other guys around his girl. It’s tutoring, not a sex session.

  “Sure.”

  I follow Damon toward the front door when I feel Taylor grab my arm. He looks fucking sexy as hell, fucking mad, but sexy. “Don’t you walk out that door, Layla. You’ll regret it.”

  I snatch my arm away from him. I know I’ll pay, but it’s polite. “I’m being polite, you should try it, Taylor.”

  He laughs. It isn’t out of humor. “Okay,” he says, before walking out of the living room.

  Damon is waiting outside when I walk out. “Are you okay?”

  I nod. “He is harmless, just likes to be in control. He’ll live.”

  Damon furrows his brow, he doesn’t look convinced, but he buys it for now. “Well, this is me,” he gestures toward a black Scion. “I’ll meet you here same time, Thursday, right?”

  I nod. “Yep. Thanks for the help. See ya then.”

  Damon nods and bites his lip. “If you need any help with anything else, let me know, okay? We have a test coming up soon.”

  “Thanks, I’ll let you know.”

  Damon waves and gets into his car. I turn, slowly and walk back into the house. Taylor isn’t in the living room. I don’t want to go looking for him, so I go to the bathroom and strip down for a shower. I know Taylor is pissed, and I’m sure he has something up his sleeve.

  The warm water on my face makes me forget about it for a little while, until I hear the bathroom door open, close and lock. Ah, fuck.