Taylored to Perfection (Taylor Made Book 2)

by kj lewis

  “I had no idea. You looked perfectly content with Becky Bimbo Barbie.”

  “I believe her name was Andrea,” he smirks.

  “She really should have been named Becky. It flows better with Bimbo Barbie.”

  Graham’s laughs. “Looks can be deceiving Emelia. I’ve built an empire on not giving anything away. Anyway, I asked Chef Michel to cook for you tonight so I could replace my regret with a new experience.”

  “So what you’re saying is you want to taste my sea bass?” I tease. I’m rewarded with another deep laugh. “I love to hear you laugh.”

  “You bring it out in me.”

  “Laughter?”

  “Joy.” His sincerity finds its way directly to my heart. It is one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me.

  “Here you go, baby.” I lean across to feed him a bite of my food. Smiling like a child, he leans forward, wrapping his mouth around my fork.

  It’s our last full day and night before we head back to the city. It’s only been a few days, but it feels like we have had a lifetime together. It’s been wonderful just being the two of us. Our morning started with sex, breakfast, a long run, sex on the ATV on the beach, sex in the shower… We finally find our momentary fill of each other, so we take a break watching a storm moving across the Atlantic.

  “You sure you don’t want to go in?” Graham asks as thunder sounds from the dark clouds rolling in over the waves.

  “Not unless it gets too cold for you. I love it out here.” I pull a pair of warm socks on my feet. I’m wearing my favorite sweater of Graham’s. He turns up the fire place before coming to sit with me on the couch. For a while we lay there listening to the storm and the rain that lulls us into an afternoon nap.

  A loud clap of thunder wakes us.

  “I’m not sure I’ve ever taken a nap in the middle of the day before,” Graham muses.

  “It’s all the sex.”

  “Then by all means. Put a nap on my daily schedule.”

  He reaches on the floor and picks up a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird.

  “Your favorite book.” Opening it to the first chapter he begins, “When he was nearly thirteen…”

  During dinner, I have a little more wine than usual—something Graham seems to be picking up on. “You need to eat more or slow down on the wine sweetness. I have plans for our last night, and it won’t be nearly as fun if you’re passed out.”

  I’m going to need the wine to give Graham his last wedding gift.

  “Give me fifteen minutes and then meet me downstairs,” I instruct.

  “What are you up to? Why are you nervous?”

  “Just give me fifteen minutes.” I plant a chaste kiss on his lips before heading downstairs.

  Exactly fifteen minutes later, Graham comes into the room. The table is gone. The only thing in the room are two straight back chairs. I’ve lit the fire. My nerves are getting the best of me.

  “Emelia.” His gaze moves over me. I’m wearing his tuxedo shirt with his bow tie hanging open. My hair is pulled into a loose knot on top of my head. I have the buttons open so you see the swells of my breast and just beneath. My ruby heart floating across my collar bone. I am wearing only my wedding band that Graham placed on my finger just three short days ago. You can see black lace boy shorts peeking below the hem of Graham’s shirt. I think Graham senses I need something, so he bends down and kisses me gently.

  “I love you, Emelia.”

  “Sit,” I tell him before letting go of a long breath. “Close your eyes.” I wrap a silk scarf around them. “Keep this on until I tell you to take it off. Understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good boy.”

  I move the other chair about five feet across from him before I leave the room for a minute.

  “As you know, Graham. I don’t have money,” I tell him taking my seat.

  “You don’t need it.”

  “And even though it is now officially our money, I still wanted my wedding gifts to you to be solely from me. So…” I exhale one last breath. “That is what I am giving you. Every part of me.”

  “I thought I already had every part of you?” he says.

  “You can take off your blindfold.” I release a shaky breath.

  “Emelia.”

  “For my beloved,” I declare before I run my bow across the strings of my cello.

  I lose myself in its warm and gentle sounds as I play a concert of songs for my husband, starting with Adele’s “Make You Feel My Love” then Carnival of the Animals “XIII the Swan” before getting my stride back moving into parts of Tchaikovsky, Vivaldi and Bach. It’s been so long since I’ve played, and I’m pleasantly surprised to find my heart still knows the notes. It’s like the bow is chiseling away at me with every movement, note by note, breaking down the wall I built, bricks mortared with guilt over choosing my music over Addie. I never thought it would be a part of me again.

  Graham smiles tenderly when I move into the first song we ever heard together, “A Few of my Favorite Things.” I end this concert for one with Etta James’ “At Last.”

  I rub my fingertips against my legs. Like my arms, they’re sore. It’s been so long since I’ve played and to do so for almost an hour was difficult. I prop my cello up as Graham comes to me. Without a word he lifts me so my legs wrap around him. I can feel his erection against me.

  It’s raining when I wake, and I realize Graham has turned on the heaters. Snuggling up to him, he wraps me in his arms, and we lay together for a long time. “I know it’s only been a few days, but I have loved our cocoon. I don’t want to leave.”

  “I know baby.” Graham kisses my temple. “I want this to be my reality. But we better get up if we are going to make it back to the city on time.” He shivers as he stands naked. “Or maybe just a few more minutes.” He hops back in bed. “You can open your last gift under the warmth of the covers.” He reaches into the nightstand drawer and pulls out an envelope with “My Love” written in large red lettering.

  “How much more can that drawer hold?” I tease, rolling my eyes.

  After reading the beginning sentences, I sit up straight, the warmth of the covers dropping below my breasts.

  “Graham,” I say harsher than I intend.

  “Emelia.” He prepares for a fight.

  “Gra…”

  “Emelia, I refuse to argue with you about this. It’s done. I would rather you just say thank you.”

  I look over the papers in utter disbelief. Never in a million years did I think he would do this.

  “Graham. You are not thinking this through. You can’t make business decisions based on your emotions.” His thumb skims across the tops of his fingers, and I know he is struggling to hold himself in check.

  “Emelia, I don’t make decisions based on emotions, but the fact is you are my wife. That means moving forward, every decision I make is not just about me but about us.”

  I sit there reading over the legal document in front of me.

  “So just like that? You sign some papers, and I now own half of a 43-billion dollar corporation?”

  “Careful.” His eyes narrow at my tone. “This isn’t about money, Emelia. It’s about security for you. It’s about us merging in every way.”

  “So talk to me about it first. Don’t just make me part of a corporation I know nothing about. It’s like you’re planning my life out for me when I don’t even know what I want my next steps to be.”

  “Your next steps are whatever you want them to be. You don’t have to work for Taylor Organization. You can work anywhere you want. Do anything you want. The world is at your feet.”

  “I don’t want to be given anything. I want to earn my way.”

  “You let Jackson lay the world at your feet,” he says defiantly and I think a little hurt.

  “When?”

  “When you let him connect you with all the corporations for your mentor program. I didn’t hear you turning him down.”

 
“Jackson helped me, yes. There would be no mentor program without Jackson or Adam. Or you for that matter,” I add. “What Jackson didn’t do was take over without consulting me, Graham. I have done nothing to earn this. My security is in you. Not your money. I don’t want there to be any confusion in that.”

  I look over the papers one more time. “What will your board of directors say?”

  “Taylor Organization is not a publically traded company. I don’t have a board to answer to.”

  “I’m grateful. I am. It’s amazing you can do this for me, Graham. It’s just…overwhelming.”

  Pulling me into his arms, he nuzzles my ear, “It’s not meant to be, Emelia. It’s meant to reassure you that you will always have the security you crave. The money is already yours. This just makes sure you are always taken care of. If something happens to me, you get full ownership and vice versa.”

  I’m still chewing it over when Graham grabs my underarms and lifts me off the bed. I hear the bedside drawer open and close before he is dragging me to the door, my stride barely able to keep up with his. It’s much cooler today. Opening the door to downstairs he maneuvers me inside in a forceful, but careful, manner.

  “Emelia, this is done. There’s nothing you can do about it. You need to understand something and its better you understand it now. I am in charge. If I want to give you something, I will give it to you. Do you understand?” He stops me on the stairs waiting for my submission.

  “Grah…”

  “I would think twice about what you are about to say. There’s only one correct response.” This is CEO Graham, and he didn’t come to play.

  “Graham.”

  “Wrong answer.” He abruptly lifts me, catching me before I fall. With his legs braced, he impales me while he lays me against the stairs. “Fuck. You are always ready.” He takes a minute to regain his control. “Fitting this is where we started.” He says through clenched teeth and he slams into me over and over. “On the stairs. Having the same argument. Who is in charge? We had it then. We’ve had it since. We are having it today. As long as you continue to push back we will have it, Emelia.”

  My pleasure bounces off the stairwell walls, and I can’t help but wonder why Graham thinks this is a punishment. His grip on my hips is almost bruising, but my body relishes it.

  “Who is in charge, Emelia?”

  “I’ve told you, you are, Graham.”

  “Then behave like it,” he grits as he pulls out of me and turns me facedown to the stairs. He slaps my ass hard after he’s lifted my knees and continues his course from behind me.

  “You’re the one who wanted ‘obey’ in your vows. You know I would never abuse it, but I refuse to have an argument every time I make a decision in your best interest. Understand?” He slaps my ass again when I don’t answer with anything other than a moan. “Do. You. Understand?”

  “You need to understand the difference between making a decision in my best interest and making a decision for me.” I push back against him trying to take control of the pace, wanting to find relief to the orgasm building within me.

  Graham pulls out of me and leans over my back.

  “Fuck!” I yell.

  “Careful.” His warning is low and unyielding. “One place I am absolutely in control Emelia is right here, right now. Understand?” My sex is begging for him. “Understand?”

  “Yes,” I say between labored breaths. My body is supported by my elbows a few stairs above him.

  He slaps my ass again.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good girl.”

  I hear the top pop and feel a warm liquid on my ass. I look underneath me and see his hand moving up and down his hardened length. A deep moan escapes me. Graham holds the velvety tip of his cock and pushes it against my clit. Repeating the movement. It only takes a minute of him using himself to get me off before I come. Sliding his cock down the length of my sex, he pulls my juices with him as he positions himself at my ass.

  “You want control, Emelia. You have it. You know what to do.” He places one hand on my hip to make sure I’m not overzealous, while his other hand guides his tip just inside my tight opening. He guides me through it again, giving me time to accommodate him. He’s now balls deep in me, and I can feel him pulsing. He moves slowly and whispers that he loves me.

  My body becomes more amenable, and I push back to quicken his pace, delighting in the feel of him inside me. Who knew I would like this so much? I can feel him swelling and I know he’s close.

  “I love you Graham.” My simple declaration is enough to push him to the edge as he plunges deep inside me finding his release. I lift my hand to push against my clit and I follow behind him. Slowly, Graham pulls out of me and after several minutes, lifts me to a standing position. Tapping the back of my thigh, he lets me know to start back up the steps.

  Leading me into the bathroom, Graham closes the shutters before joining me in the shower. Without notice he has me backed up against the wall. His hand holds my wrists above me as his other hand grips my chin, kissing me fervently.

  “I adore you, Emelia.” He says when he comes up for air. “If I have to fuck you into submission each time, then I’m up for the task.”

  When we are done showering, he asks, “Are you ok?”

  “Yes, sir,” I answer slyly over my shoulder to him.

  “You are the most challenging woman.”

  “What does Ben think?” The non-sequitur is clear to Graham.

  “Who do you think drew up the papers for me? If it were him and mom, she would have half ownership. She’d probably insist on 51%.” His laughter goes a long way in ebbing my hesitation.

  “Stop giving a fuck what anyone thinks. You never have before, so don’t start now.”

  “That’s not it.”

  “Isn’t it?” It’s in that instance that I realize that is what I’m worried about: what others will think. Will people always think I’m getting where I’m am because of who I married.

  “See,” he says kissing the tip of my nose. “I do know you.”

  “Have everything?” Graham asks as he packs a few things in his bag. Most of our things will be left here. “What are you thinking about?” he says when he realizes he has interrupted my reverie.

  “How much I love my rings.”

  “I did good?”

  “You did good.”

  I play with them one last time before standing. I have the two matching bands on today with my diamond. The remaining bands I have stacked on my right hand, replacing my grandparents’ rings I always wore.

  Graham looks delectable in dark jeans, a white button-up, and a navy blue sweater. It’s cooler out, so I have also opted for light-gray jeans and a cream sweater. The look might come off bland if it wasn’t for the matching gray suede thigh-high boots.

  I stop him as he starts to open the door. “Thank you for the most amazing honeymoon.” I grace a soft kiss on his lips.

  “You know most women wouldn’t be okay with staying home for their honeymoon.”

  “I’m not most women.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Also, a honeymoon in a house like this is hardly a hardship.” I head down the stairs, stopping midway, I turn to him. “Next time we’re here, I will suck your dick on these stairs,” I say in my sweetest southern voice that I know drives him crazy. Placing my hand cupping him, I feel him twitch against palm.

  “If you want to make your meetings on time, you better keep stepping.”

  Teague and Smith are waiting for us outside. Despite the fact their presence reminds me we are no longer in our cocoon, I hug them both in greeting.

  “Your wife is lovely, Smith,” I tell him once he’s behind the wheel and we’re moving. “Is your schedule hard for her?” Graham looks up like it’s not something he’s considered before.

  “No, ma’am. She’s a free spirit. She likes her own space. Independent.”.

  “What does she do?”

  “She teaches fourth grad
ers.” His smile tells me so much more than his words.

  “And how are things with Joy?” I ask Teague. The smirk on Smith’s lips is noticeable.

  “Good.”

  “That’s all I get?”

  “Emme.”

  “What? It’s not like I’m asking you about the sex.”

  He groans.

  “Would you tell me if I did?” I lean forward in interest. To know he blushes just from the word “sex” tickles me.

  “Boss,” he says to Graham.

  “Nope. That’s not how this works. You don’t get to call ‘boss’ all the time.”

  “I’ll tell you how mine went. Graham was ah-may-zing,” I draw out.

  “UNCLE!” Teague throws his hands up. “I call uncle. You win.”

  “I’ll just ask Joy. She’ll tell me.” I shrug one shoulder, sitting back.

  “BOSS!” Teague says with more force when he realizes that Joy would, in fact, tell me.

  Smiling, I give a little clap of excitement that I can make Teague uneasy.

  “Evil.” I hear Graham say quietly under his breath, raising another brow at me and looking sexy as fuck sliding on his sunglasses.

  I look up when we come to a stop.

  “What are we doing?” I ask nervously to Graham. “You don’t think I’m getting on that?”

  “It’s very safe. The only reason we are here, is because the helipad hasn’t been built at the house yet. You might as well get used to it. By helicopter, the trip is only thirty-five minutes. We’ll be flying here in it most trips.” He squeezes my hand while Smith opens my door.

  “I’ll be up front with Jim,” Smith tells me reassuringly. “You’re safe. We promise.”

  I blush, feeling silly that he feels the need to reassure me, but I know it’s because of the look I have on my face.

  Jim walks up to greet us and tells Graham the checks have all been done and we’re ready to go. She really is a beautiful bird. She’s shiny navy blue in color. When Jim opens the back door, stairs pop out. Teague climbs in first and moves to the front before Graham ushers me in.

  Once inside, the door closes and it’s almost like a flying sitting room. There’s a wall in front of us that has a TV on it. There are four tan recliners in a luxurious beige leather. They swivel, allowing seating arrangements to be configured to preference. There is a leather couch that seats four across the back. To the side is a bar area. It’s tightly configured, but spacious for a helicopter. Teague takes a seat facing the front and puts on a wireless headset before turning on ESPN.