You Are Mine (Forever)

by Kar, Alla

  I can see Taylor’s shadow from the other side of the shower curtain. He takes off his clothes and waits for a few seconds before slinging the bathroom curtain open. His is smiling, a greedy, ludicrous smile. “Couldn’t follow the rules, could you?”

  I’m not sure what to say. I stand there, water pouring over me. I’m glad it’s there to keep me warm, because I’m suddenly shivering. Taylor rakes his eyes over me, taking me in. I can see the wheels turning in his head. When he steps in, I take a step backwards. He smiles, grabbing my shoulder and carefully pushes me against the shower wall. “Don’t run away from me, Layla. I told you not to go outside and what did you do? You went outside.” His fingers slid up my neck and wrap themselves around it. I’m breathing heavy, I can feel his erection on my stomach and the heavy breathes he’s letting out in harsh on my face.

  “Taylor, you’re overdramatizing this entire thing. I was being polite.”

  He chuckles, running his other hand down between my legs. I gasp as he starts to circle his finger against my clit. “Oh, so breaking the rules is okay as long as you’re being polite? He could have been out there waiting for you.” He lets out a dark laugh and takes my breast in his mouth. He tugs with his teeth, making my throbbing sex ache.

  I try to move his finger toward my entrance, but he snatched it away. “Ah.”

  “Oh, no, sweetheart, you’re not getting anything soon. I’m gonna make you wait to come.” His tongue ring slides against my neck. “You’re going to be so close and then I’ll stop. You’re going to be punished, Layla,” he whispers, his voice husky.

  My entire body is on fire. I push my mouth toward his, and he kisses me back, entangling his fingers in my hair. I slid my tongue into his mouth, but he bites it, hard. “Nope,” he says, pushing me against the wall. “Now,” he says, rubbing his fingers down until he is cupping me. “That feel good?” he asks, moving his finger over my clit, again.

  I cry out, my body wanting more than he is willing to give. I grip his hair, but he grabs my arms and pushes them against the shower wall. “Be still,” he whispers out.

  I bite my lip. He watches as I tear at it, his body responsive against me. Angry, I grab his shoulders. “Layla,” he groans, snatching away from me. I feel cold, angry and turned on. He turns, reaching out of the shower. He brings a towel back with him. I am breathing ruggedly, watching as he rips a strip from the fabric. He turns toward me, his gray eyes wide with excitement. Grabbing my wrists, he ties the strip around them. “Now, put your hands above your head. Don’t move, or we’ll start all over.”

  Fuck me. I stare up at him, while he runs his hands over me, touching every crevice. I’m soaking wet, everywhere. My hair is a wet, tangled mess around my neck, my body humming with anticipation. “Please,” I beg, letting out a sigh.

  Taylor laughs, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth. “You didn’t stay when I asked you to.” Grabbing my ass, he picks me up, only to lay me down on the shower floor. The water rushes down Taylor, bouncing off of his back. The ripples in his abs look magnified, from the water running down his stomach. A low hum radiates from his chest, and he bends between my legs, brining my legs on top of his shoulders.

  Taylor stares down at my sex, licking his lip. I move my hips, begging him to do something, anything. I need to feel him in me, on me, or some kind of touch. He runs his fingernail over my clit, making me cry out.

  He smiles, it’s greedy, selfish and fucking sexy. “Oh, fuck yeah, baby. You’re so wet for me. You want me to taste you?”

  I lay there, not answering.

  “Answer me,” he says lowly. “Do you want me to taste you?”

  I whimper. “Yes,” I mumble.

  He groans, bending his head and sliding his tongue over my slit. “Fuck,” I cry out, wanting to reach for his head, but don’t dare move. He starts slow, barely touching me, making me ache with need.

  Then two fingers slide inside me. “Yes,” I whisper into the water.

  He slides them back out. “You going to do what I say, Layla? It’s for your protection. I need you to obey the rules,” he whispers into my ear, his fingers teasing the outside of my pussy.

  I nod.

  “Say it,” he says grabbing my hair. “Say you are mine. Say you’ll obey the rules, baby. Then I can give you whatever you want. I’ll give you anything you need.”

  “Yes, I’m yours. I’ll obey the rules,” I yell.

  “Good,” Taylor says, before slamming into me.

  I cry out, a long, painfully great, torturous cry.

  “God, you’re so wet,” Taylor says, in my ear. “Tell me how you want it?”

  “I want you to untie my hands. I want to touch you,” I say. My wrists are un-tied in two seconds, and I tangle my fingers through his hair.

  Unable to stop myself, I wrap my legs around his waist, pushing him into me further. “Please, harder.”

  He pounds into me, my body racing with each thrust. “You like that?” He grabs my ass, squeezing hard. “Tell me you like it.”

  “I fucking love it,” I cry out, my body shaking. One more hard pound and I go over the edge. My anger, frustration and problems go down the drain.

  Taylor smiles, gives two more pumps and releasing inside of me. Which reminds me that I need to take my birth control pill.

  He grabs me and pulls me on his chest in the shower floor. “Fucking asshole,” I mumble.

  He barks out a laugh. “You fucking love it.”

  Chapter Four

  Layla

  Taylor picks me up from class right on time. He is wearing a pair of wind pants, a muscle shirt and his demeanor is stiff. This means he’s got a match tonight.

  “Who are you fighting tonight?”

  “Brett Cassidy, he is on the wrestling team,” Taylor says, nonchalantly.

  I raise an eyebrow. “You’re not worried?”

  Taylor glances over at me, a dark smile lifting up his face. “Does it look like I’m worried, baby?”

  I shake my head and cross my arms across my chest. “It doesn’t.”

  Taylor laughs. “You’re coming tonight, right?”

  “Of course. I always come. I do need to go by my apartment to get something to wear.”

  ***

  Ten minutes later, we pull into the parking lot of my apartment. It’s not like I’m ever there anymore, since the letter showed up. Taylor parks and follows me up the stairs. Nothing looks unusual about the door, no eggs smashed on them, no spray paint, or nasty messages. It smells so familiar when I walk in. The vanilla smell is there, and Cindy’s shoes are still scattered around the front door.

  Taylor reaches over and knocks his knuckles against the wood on the door frame. “Knock on wood, everything is in its place.”

  I glance up at him. “There was no forced entry, so let’s hope scorpion guy hasn’t found another way in. But, I’m sure since he found me here, he can find me at your place.”

  Taylor reaches under my chin and makes me look at him. His eyes are gentle, and his smile soothing. “You’re going to be fine. Now, get ya something to wear, so we can get out of here. I have to practice before the match.”

  When I swing my door open my blood runs cold. Everything is thrown out, my drawers opened, clothes hanging out, and my mattress flipped off the frame. “Taylor,” I choke out.

  When I hear the creak in the floorboard behind me, I know Taylor is there. “Holy fuck. Damn it,” he yells, slamming his fist against the wall.

  My window is barely cracked opened. I know I didn’t leave that window open. He came through the window. My window. What would have happened if I had been in my room? Or the apartment? He would have killed me. “I wonder how long it’s been like this?”

  “Brett said they came by like a week ago to get Cindy’s stuff. So, it would have had to been in the last few days. He came through your fucking window,” Taylor says, his voice low.

  “Let me get this straightened up, and then get my clothes.” Tears are prickling my eyes. He is
really here. He is trying to kill me. At first it almost seemed like a bad dream. The letter was scary, but it wasn’t anything physical. Now, I have some physical bullshit to deal with. A lump starts to grow in my throat, but I push it back down.

  Taylor’s rough grip wraps around my arm. “Layla, it’s okay. We’ll come back and get this straightened up. We don’t need to worry about it right now. Don’t cry,” he coos.

  I bite my tongue and nod. “Okay.”

  After grabbing some skinny jeans and a low-cut black top, we head out of the apartment. I’m looking around like a crazy person in case he is waiting for me. I don’t see anything unusual, but I figure I wouldn’t.

  “I don’t think he is here, Lay. Plus, if he were, he wouldn’t want us to see him.”

  I hold the bridge of my nose with two fingers. “I wish he would just leave me alone. I didn’t jip him out of his money, my dad did. And he’s already paid the price. The biggest price he could have paid.” God, I feel so stupid. How did I not think he would come back for me? He killed my mother in cold blood, why didn’t I get that he wanted my dad to suffer as much as he could.

  “Are you okay, Layla? Do you want to stay home tonight? I’ll stay with you.”

  A tear falls down my eye, but I wipe it away. “No, I need to get out. I don’t need to sit inside and feel sorry for myself.”

  Taylor’s eyes soften, and he runs his finger down my neck. “Baby, it’s perfectly fine to be sad. You have a reason to be. It’s not like you’re in an argument with a friend and you feel sorry for yourself, you’ve actually got a reason to be upset.”

  Damn it, no more tears. I push back the waterworks and conjure up the best fake smile. “I want to go. I need to get out.”

  Taylor doesn’t buy it but nods anyway. “Okay, then.”

  ***

  Taylor drops me off, and heads to the gym. He makes sure the security alarm is on before he leaves Cindy and me by ourselves. I didn’t tell anyone, but I’m glad Cindy is with me, I don’t like being by myself now. We watch a couple of movies and start working on homework before we relax at the counter with a container of chocolate icing.

  “So, your room was fucked up?” she asks.

  I dig a spoonful of icing out of the container, then swallow a big lump. “Yeah, my bed was upside down and my clothes were all over the place.”

  Cindy furrows her brows and takes another bite. “Well, was anything missing? What do you think he was looking for?”

  “That’s the thing, I have no idea. My dad didn’t take anything from him that I know of, he just hustled him. Honestly, I don’t think he was looking for anything but me. Maybe he was looking for a clue to where I could be. Or just trying to scare the shit out of me. It worked.”

  Cindy purses her lips. “Well, to be honest, I think he knows where you’re at. He found you all the way from Dallas here. I’m sure he knows you’re staying here, but he is just looking for the right time.”

  Thanks a fucking lot Cindy. I wipe my finger in the icing and run it against her face. “Thanks a lot,” I say.

  She sticks her tongue out and licks the icing. “Yummy,” she moans.

  “Fucking weirdo,” I laugh.

  “Oh, so you never told me about the guy in Lit of the South. What’s up with the hottie?”

  I shrug. “He is my tutor for econ. Mr. Matthews assigned him to me. Taylor, automatically, doesn’t like him. Its nuts, he hasn’t done anything to me. Oh, and he works with me at the coffee shop.”

  Cindy smiles and runs her lime green fingernail against her jaw. “Well, Taylor has a right to be jealous. He likes you.”

  “He doesn’t.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Yes, he does. The way he was looking at you, he may act like he is just a flirt, but he likes you. He cares.”

  “Whatever,” I say. “I’m going to go take a shower and get ready.”

  Cindy slaps her hands against the bar cabinet. “Let’s get sexy, bitch. We’ve got a fight to watch.”

  ***

  Brett picks us up at nine-thirty in his BMW. He secures the alarm and escorts us to his car. My hands are shaking from nerves, so I shove them in the pockets of my leather jacket. Cindy is uncharacteristically quiet and holds on to Brett’s arm tightly. I frown. I hate that my friends are scared because of me. That they have to be so careful and can’t be their normal carefree selves.

  I slip in the back and relax into the leather. Brett’s backseat is filled with gym clothes, gym bags and sweats. He lives in the gym.

  “Taylor is meeting us there. He is pumped up tonight, you guys should see him,” Brett says, pulling out of the driveway. “I think that Damon has something to do with it. He’s been extra bitchy since that incident.”

  I roll my eyes. “That’s just great,” I mumble.

  Cindy turns around. “Oh, puh-lease, you know you love it. Your guy protecting you is hot.”

  She is clueless. “Whatever, Cindy.” I crane my neck to look at the parking lot. “Jeez, look at all of the cars. It’s packed.”

  Brett lets us out at the front, and we push our way through the crowd of people outside the arena. When we get in the line to pay, Cindy grabs my arm. “Isn’t that the hottie staring at us over there?” She points her finger toward the double doors. Damon is standing at the entrance, a guy talking to him, but he never takes his eyes off of me.

  “Yeah, that’s him.”

  Cindy laughs and wraps her arms around me. “This should be interesting. If Taylor sees him it’s going to drive him crazy, he’ll definitely win.”

  I step up in line. “Hopefully he won’t see him. He can win without it.”

  “Hi, Layla,” the older lady behind the counter says. “Here are your tickets. Taylor already paid.”

  Of course he did. “Thanks a lot, Denise. Fingers crossed for tonight.”

  She rolls her eyes and ruffles her graying hair. She is the coolest older woman I’ve ever met. She never rats the fighters out, this is an underground thing. Most of the time I see her watching the fights, rooting Taylor on. I hope I’m that awesome at her age. “You know he will win, but fingers crossed.” She holds up her intertwined fingers.

  I smile. “Call Brett and tell him we have his tickets. We’ll have to wait on him outside so he can get in.”

  Cindy pulls out her phone, while we walk to stand by the entrance. I can feel Damon’s eyes on the side of my head. Cindy is trying to direct Brett to where we are, since it looks like a damn Justin Beiber concert outside. “So, you come to these fight a lot?” Damon asks, his breath close to my ear.

  I flinch. “Yes, everyone that Taylor is in.”

  Damon smiles down at me. “That’s right, you date the Taylor Jacks.”

  He has a smartass smile on his face. “Don’t be a smartass, Damon.”

  He frowns and runs his fingers down his face. “Sorry, just a habit. He is a great fighter.”

  I narrow my eyes, not sure if he is really being genuine, or being an ass. He gives me a little smile that looks somewhat legit. “It’s okay,” I say, tugging on my jacket.

  A couple of seconds later Brett walks up. “Finally,” Cindy says.

  Brett raises an eyebrow and looks over at Damon. “I’m Damon, you’re Brett, right?”

  He nods and takes his hand. “It’s getting close for the fight to start, we should head inside.”

  I’m thankful we’re leaving. I don’t need any rumors about Damon or me, and with this being a smaller university, things get started very easily. I follow behind Brett and Cindy when I realize Damon is following behind me. Fuck. I bite my lip and try to figure out a way I can get rid of him. Taylor is going to flip his lid when he sees Damon.

  The crowd is roaring when we get inside. I can barely hear myself think. A mixture of alcohol, weed and sweat float through the air. I nearly gag. Elbows and arms shove me against other people. “Damn it,” I mumble, trying to get my balance.

  Damon reaches down and his hand engulfs my waist, steading me. “Watch out,
” he growls to some guy with his face painted with Taylor’s name.

  I step out of his grip and start to walk faster toward the V.I.P section. I let out a soft sigh when we make it to the gated fence that blocks us from the crazy fans. A roar of Taylor’s name has started to vibrate through the arena. I smile to myself and hand the usher guy my V.I.P ticket. He tears it and hands me the stub. My hopes fall when I see Damon get let in. Damn it. He smiles and sits right beside me. Does he want to die? He seems pretty happy with himself.

  I give him a fake smile and turn toward Brett and Cindy. Cindy is smiling, loving every minute of my torture, but Brett’s eyes are wide. He knows Taylor better than any of us, and he knows he is going to be pissed. I feel bad for his opponent.

  When the crowd gets louder, I know it’s time to start. I glance up at the arena. Jason Powers, the playboy of the university, steps into the middle of the ring. He has his hand cupped around his ears, wearing a huge smile, and waving the crowd on with his other hand. “That’s what I like to hear. Give me some more, bitches!” he screams.

  Everyone is on their feet now, including the V.I.P section, screaming at the top of their lungs. Despite knowing Taylor is going to freak out, my heart is beating crazily in my chest. I can hear it in my ears, blocking out the screams of the crowd around me. Cindy is jumping up and down, her boobs nearly popping out of her shirt. I smile and throw my hands up in the air.

  “Hell yeah, college kids,” Jason screams. “Can we get this party started? Who wants to see some Kevin The Man Thomas,” he yells. The crowd starts to boo him.

  He laughs and runs his microphone against the fence around the cage. “Now, who wants to see some Taylor BadAss Jacks!”

  The entire arena bursts into a madhouse. I can’t help but laugh.

  “Does this not get on your nerves?”

  Where did that come from? I glance over at Damon, his eyebrows furrowed and his is frowning. “No, it doesn’t, why would you ask me that?”

  He shrugs, scratching his scruffy jaw. “I don’t know. I mean, look around.” He gestures around us. I look. I see everyone screaming, everyone enjoying themselves.