13. Taylor
CHAPTER 13
Taylor
M y heart thuds so loud against my chest I’m confident Austin can hear it through my apartment door. I let out a shaky breath, lifting my palms from the door behind me where they’ve left a sweaty palm print.
“What the hell?” I finally manage to get the words out that have been running through my brain on repeat.
This was never supposed to happen. I lift my finger to my lips, dragging them slowly back and forth where Austin’s lips nipped, sucked, and kissed. I could play off the first kiss, convincing myself it was all for show for the silly account I’d made, but that all changed tonight.
The way he growled into my mouth and grabbed a handful of my ass so mercilessly. I’m not okay and I’m not sure I ever will be again.
I try to push it all from my mind, scrambling to find the Tylenol and washing it down with a bottle of water. I rummage through my pantry, finding a long-forgotten pack of blueberry Pop-Tarts that I’m sure are very near or even past their expiration date. I don’t have the energy to care. I take a bite of the dry, sugary breakfast pastry, closing my eyes and letting the sugar and carbs do their work.
I already know I’m going to have a headache tomorrow from overindulging on drinks tonight, but that’s the least of my worries. Somehow, I have to manage to forget what happened tonight between Austin and me before work on Monday. With Miguel starting this week, I don’t have the mental bandwidth to try and deal with any awkward glances or moments alone with Austin in offices and elevators.
“Just take a shower and get to bed,” I tell myself, finishing off the rest of my midnight snack and making my way toward my bathroom.
The heat of the almost scalding water and thick lotion I lather on afterward do help to release a bit of the tension in my muscles, but by the time my head hits the pillow, a knot has formed in my stomach. My eyes squeeze tightly closed as his words come back to me.
“Just because I want to bend you over this back seat and make you forget your fucking name…”
“We both want to do it again.”
“Five years later and we’re both still attracted to each other.”
The knot burns when I think about how this could change things. How this could destroy everything we’ve built if we let it go any further.
Because I won’t be able to handle just being another notch in Austin’s belt. I don’t want just a whirlwind rebound romance or one night of what I know would be the most mind-blowing, life-altering sex that would permanently curl my toes.
But I’m far too self-aware to know that jumping into another relationship this quickly isn’t what I want right now. I want time to finally figure myself out and falling into bed with the man whom I kept half of my heart on a shelf for all throughout my last relationship is a terrible idea.
An idea that I can’t seem to stop myself from entertaining.
An idea that I know will take control of me if I taste his lips again.
“ Y ou made it!” Becca waves at me enthusiastically as I yawn for the fourth time since arriving at the pickleball courts.
“I can’t believe I gave up sleeping in to play pickleball. Which, to remind you, I still have no idea how to play.”
“Don’t worry, it’s just like mini tennis; you’ll be fine.” She hands me an iced coffee which I immediately chug. “Oh, thank the gods.” I groan.
“That martini hit you that hard?” She laughs as we make our way over to Hector and Miguel on the other side of the court.
“The first one didn’t but the second one and partial third one sure did.”
“Wait, did you and that bartender hook up?” She shimmies her shoulders with a little squeal.
“No, shhh, and let’s not talk about me hooking up with anyone in front of my new employee,” I say through an exaggerated smile as we approach the guys. “Hey, boys.” I wave, taking another long sip of my coffee.
“So, is this going to be a guys verses girls situation here?” Hector asks.
“Hey now.” Miguel laughs. “Don’t be putting me into a situation up against my new boss.”
“Actually.” Becca glances at her smartwatch. “Oh good, they just got here. I sent a text to our new neighbor who just moved in a few weeks ago to see if she wanted to join us and she just got here with her date.”
“Which neighbor is this?” I stretch my arms overhead, last night’s late-night drinking and lack of any decent sleep making me feel a decade older.
“Oh, I don’t think I’ve told you about her. She and her long-term boyfriend split up a few months back. She’s super sweet; you’ll love her. I am curious about this date she’s bringing, though, because she was really struggling with getting over her ex.”
“Yeah, I know that feeling.” I bend forward, inching my fingertips down to my toes. “God, I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.”
“Well, you look great.” Becca slaps my ass, causing me to shoot upward with a yelp.
“Ouch.” I rub the spot, lifting my favorite pink skort to see if she left a red handprint against my ass.
“Damn,” she teases. “You really wouldn’t enjoy Hector in the bedroom if you think that hurt.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right on me not enjoying your fiancé in the bedroom.”
“What about his brother?”
“You mean the man I just hired?” I whisper, glancing over my shoulder to make sure the guys are focused on their own conversation. Thankfully Miguel isn’t even within earshot. I roll my eyes, pulling the built-in spandex shorts partly up my cheek, out of view of anyone else, and see the distinct outline of three oval-shaped bruises.
“What the f?—”
Oh my God. I’m staring at the outline of Austin’s fingers when he grabbed my ass outside the bar while we were kissing!
“I’m just teasing. Chill. Oh look, there she is!” She steps around me, her hand shooting up into the air to wave. “Over here, Mia!”
Mia?
My head whips up and I look at the sporty blonde walking across the court, her hair up in a high ponytail, a lavender visor matching her cute little lavender one-piece outfit that hugs her petite curves.
“Hey, Becca!” She waves enthusiastically toward us but it’s not her outfit or how cute she is that has my stomach plummeting into my ass. It’s Austin walking next to her.
“Is that?” She squints, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Austin with her?”
“I have to go to the restroom,” I say before yanking the shorts back into place and sprinting across the court to the restrooms. I don’t consider how I must look right now, dashing toward the bathroom as he approaches with the woman he told me not to worry about last night.
I lock myself in a stall, sinking down onto the closed lid of the toilet seat. My feet bounce nervously as I take in a few slow breaths.
“See.” I shake my head. “This is why kissing was a stupid fu—” I pause when the bathroom door swooshes open, followed by a melodic hum and footsteps that walk to the sink. I reach around and hit flush, taking a few seconds before opening the door.
“Oh, hi!” I lift my eyes which are met with two huge blue ones staring back at me in the mirror. “You must be Taylor.” The smile on Mia’s face spreads from ear to ear, making her even more beautiful if that’s possible. “I’m Mia.” She darts her still damp hand out toward me. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Hi.” I smile softly, holding up my yet unwashed hands, even though I didn’t actually go to the restroom—she doesn’t know that.
“Oh, sorry.” Her cheeks flush slightly. “I love your skort; that pink looks amazing on you.”
“Thanks.” I try to offer a genuine smile but a mix of guilt and jealousy surges through me. “The lavender looks great on you too.”
“I bought it because it makes my butt look great.” She giggles, spinning around in the mirror.
She’s right. It makes her ass look amazing. If I had to guess, it’s probably the first thing Austin noticed about her.
“Smart purchase.” I wink, making my way toward the door. “See you out there.” I exit the restroom, rounding the corner and running smack into someone’s chest. “Sorry.” I step to the side but the stranger’s hands are still on my waist.
“Tay, it’s me.”
I look up, pushing Austin’s hands from me before attempting to step past him. “Super not interested in talking right now.”
“Don’t,” he says, grabbing my wrist. “It’s not what you think.”
“Not what I think?” I half whisper, half shout as I yank my hand away from him. “You had your tongue down my throat last night and now you show up with the woman you told me was nothing ?”
His eyes darken and he takes a step forward like he’s going to back me against the wall when the sound of Mia’s footsteps behind me stop him.
“We need to talk.” His tone is soft but commanding.
I don’t respond, just simply step around him and make my way back toward the courts where Becca is explaining how to play pickleball before turning back to Mia and Austin. “I still can’t believe you two are dating. Such a small world.”
“Not dating,” Mia says quickly.
“Just friends,” Austin adds, glancing toward me, but I keep my eyes focused on Becca.
“Let’s play doubles,” Hector says once we’ve all gathered around. “We can do round robin so each time you play with a different partner against different opponents.”
“Why don’t you and Miguel sit out while the four of us play a round so you guys can watch and learn?” Becca looks at me, then Miguel.
“Works for me.” I shrug.
“Same.” Miguel smiles, walking over to me to give me a high five. “Team loser that doesn’t know how to play?”
“We’re lawyers,” I remind him. “We’ll probably still beat all of them anyway.”
Miguel laughs, bumping my shoulder with his just as Austin looks over at us. I see a flash of something on his face, his eyes meeting mine for a brief second before he looks away.
That’s right, two can play at this game.
“Heads or tails,” Becca says, reaching into her pocket and producing a quarter. “Call it.”
“So, are you excited to start on Monday?” I turn my attention to Miguel while the others get into place.
“Very.” He lets out an exaggerated smile. “I’m sure even if I work twice as many hours going forward, it would still be less stressful than my firm.”
“Oh, I know that stress all too well. I worked at Metzler, Dodson was that the one?”
“It was.” I nod.
“No regrets?”
I glance over at Austin, watching him adjust his baseball hat before serving the ball.
“No, no regrets.”
“That’s a pretty big offer to walk away from.” I turn my attention back to Miguel. “What made you decide to do it?”
“At the time… I told myself if I didn’t take the chance now on something when I’m young, fresh out of law school and not making a ridiculous salary that would keep me shackled to my firm, I’d never do it.”
“And is that answer different now? With perspective?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure but it’s certainly paid off. Hard to say if my answer would be different depending on the circumstances.”
“I get that.”
“Heads up!” Austin’s booming voice interrupts us just as a ball goes whizzing past us. “Sorry about that.” He smiles, jogging over toward us as Miguel turns to chase after the wayward ball.
“Very mature,” I mutter, giving him a look of disgust.
“It was an accident, but I thought you were supposed to be watching so you can learn how to play.” He lifts his arm in the air, signaling for Miguel to toss it to him. “Not flirting with our newest employee.”
“Flirting?” I scoff, rolling my eyes. “Is that why you got so confused talking to me? You don’t know how to read signals and got them confused?” My tone is dangerously close to mocking, my attempt to play it cool clearly a failure.
“Thanks, buddy.” Austin flashes Miguel an exaggerated smile after catching the ball. His eyes drop back down to me. “Mixed signals? Ah, right, like how wet your panties got when I kissed you?”
I couldn’t form a reply even if he hadn’t walked back to the court laughing. Besides, he isn’t wrong about how wet my panties were… both times he kissed me. I flinch at the memory, squeezing my eyes shut like it will stop it from happening again.
“I should bring Felicity next time we play; she’d get a kick out of watching the ball bounce back and forth.”
“Yeah?” I turn my attention back to Miguel. “You said she just turned three, right?”
“She did.” He smiles, reaching into his pocket to produce his phone. “She loves watching me play tennis so I’m sure she’d enjoy this.” He keeps his attention on his screen as he talks, flipping through several images before turning it around to show me. “This is just a short video, I promise. I know parents can be overwhelming with showing pictures of their kids.”
I take the phone and hit play, watching his daughter clap enthusiastically while squealing daddy as loud as her little lungs will let her.
“She’s adorable.”
“She is. Looks just like her mother.” His expression falters for a brief second when he looks down at the screen but just as quickly, a smile is back in place. “My little girl is the best thing that ever happened to me, even if the marriage didn’t work out.”
A strange longing forms in my chest, one that I don’t recognize. “No regrets?” I ask him the same question he lobbed my way earlier.
“Nah.” He shakes his head and slides his phone back into his pocket. “What kind of lawyer would I be if I didn’t take risks?” He laughs. “But seriously, no. I mean sure, we both know the statistics about marriage, but that applies to any relationship, right? There’s never a guarantee it will work out, but sometimes you gain a lot more than you ever thought you would from it.”
His words hit me like a truck. That’s the longing I felt. Maybe it’s not longing but jealousy. Jealous that I can’t seem to push logic out of my head long enough to let myself truly fall and feel without keeping one foot out the door or waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Game!” Hector shouts in the distance. “Next up!”
“Are you competitive?” he asks as we make our way toward the court.
“Very. You?”
“We’re both lawyers, remember?” He laughs as Becca and Hector leave the court.
“You guys play Mia and Austin since they won this round, then we’ll switch up the teams.”
“Hope you paid attention.” Austin flashes me his signature smirk.
“Hope you enjoy losing.” I smile back sarcastically.
Great. Keep it up, Taylor. Keep letting him know he’s getting to you.
Miguel gets into position to serve and I slip on my game face, reminding myself of all the times I wiped the floor with the cocky, arrogant guys in law school who always thought they could best me.
They never beat me on the floor of the classroom or the tennis court. If there’s one thing that will light a fire under my ass, it’s the threat of some cocky fuckboy who thinks he can get in my head.
“Game!”
Just over fifteen minutes later, Miguel and I are red-faced, panting, and the declared winners of this round.
“Is it possible that very was an understatement when I asked if you were competitive?” Miguel rests his hands on his knees, attempting to catch his breath.
“Possibly?” I laugh, holding both of my hands out for him to high five. He smacks both of them, then holds his overhead so I have to jump to reach them, making me laugh and almost fall in the process.
“Wow.” Mia lets out an exaggerated huff. “You guys are so good! I thought you didn’t know how to play?”
“We don’t.” I shrug. “But we did find out when I interviewed him a few weeks back that we both played tennis in college.”
“I think I need a few minutes. Mind if I sit the next one out?” She looks up at Austin.
“I have to agree with you.” Miguel looks at Mia. “Want to grab some Gatorade from inside?”
“Yes, please.” She tosses her racket to the side, falling in step with him as they make their way toward the entrance of the club.
“You and me against the guys?” Becca points at me.
“She’s on my team,” Austin says before I can respond.
“Looks like it’s me and you again, babe.” Hector and Becca clasp hands, walking over to their side of the court.
“Thanks for speaking for me.”
“You want to give me shit for coming with a friend while you’re all over him?” Austin rolls his eyes, turning his back toward me. I assumed he was joking, attempting to get at me again with an exaggerated comment. “And here I thought that was a line you’d never cross.”
“All over him? Are you kidding me?”
He freezes, his spine going stiff before he turns around. “What the fuck was all that?” He pretends to jump and high-five. “Oh, were my tits about to fly in your face? Oops.”
“Wow,” is all I can say. I open my mouth, ready to tell him to go fuck himself when Becca sends the ball right toward me.
“Got it,” Austin shouts but I’m already jumping in front of him to return it. “The fuck, Tay.” His foot gets caught on the back of mine, his hand on my stomach, my ass in his crotch all in one quick second. “I said I had it.”
I ignore his comments, focusing my attention on winning this game as quick as possible so I can get the hell out of here. I dive in front of him several more times, cutting off his plays and leaving him frustrated and panting.
“Mine!” I rear back with my paddle, ready to score another point with this next return when I feel Austin’s hand smack my ass. I lose my balance, tripping over my own toe before sending myself straight back onto the ground while Austin gracefully saves the play and sends the ball back across the net.
“What the hell?” I scramble to my feet, the game not stopping.
“Are you okay?” Becca shouts at me with a giggle, and I wave back, letting her know I’m fine.
“If you want to play dirty, then so can I,” Austin says without looking at me.
“We’re on the same team, you ass; it’s not playing dirty.” I run toward the net to save a short return. “Got it.”
“Then what the fuck is it, Taylor? Because you’re purposely frustrating me now.”
“You’re one to talk.” I turn around and march toward him, ignoring the fact we’re in the middle of a game. “Why else would you come here with Mia today?” I’m standing so close to him I have to look up to meet his eyes.
A ball whizzes past but neither of us attempt to return it.
“Did it occur to you that it had nothing to do with you? I had no idea you were coming today. She invited me to play with her friends.”
“ HER friends?”
“Hello!” Becca shouts toward us.
“Is that what this is about?” He tilts his head. “You’re jealous she’s friends with your best friend?”
“That has nothing to do with it and you know it.” I jab my finger in his chest.
“Oh, so it’s because you’re jealous she’s here with me?” That grin, the one that always makes me want to kiss him no matter how pissed he’s made me, slides into place. “I was right the first time, then.”
“What the hell, guys?” Hector shouts, clearly annoyed that we’ve stopped the game and are now ignoring both of them.
“Jealous? You think I’m jealous?”
“I do,” he says, moving another inch closer to me. “I think that’s why you keep shoving that tight little ass of yours in my face in that skirt.”
“Seriously!”
“Yeah, seriously. Every time you cut me off when I call it, you make sure some part of your body is touching mine. And don’t act like I don’t notice the way you look back at me when you’re bent slightly forward. That fucking skirt should be illegal.” His chest is against mine as he tosses his racket to the ground. “You want me to look, don’t you?”
My mouth drops open. I’m trying to process what Austin is saying to me. The way his expression has changed from anger to arrogance to— oh God.
I know this look. It’s the same one he gave me in my office the night he first kissed me. I watched that video enough times that look on his face will forever be burned into my brain.
“You are so—” I shake my head, trying to think of any word to say but nothing comes to mind that accurately describes this feeling of anger and need and desire and frustration all wrapped into one.
“So what?” He barely gets the words out before his hands are cupping my face, his lips coming over mine slowly, softly kissing me.
My racket slips from my grasp, falling to the ground as his tongue slides just inside my mouth, touching mine and sending my eyelids flying open.
I can’t move.
I can’t breathe.
I can only stand here, letting him explore my mouth with his tongue, and I want to continue letting him.
I want to wind my fingers into his hair so I can pull his mouth even harder against mine. I want to let the moan that’s burning in my chest tear through me. I want to?—
“Fuck,” he pants, pulling back from me. “I couldn’t stop myself.” He leans in again, nipping my lips, his eyes fluttering closed again. “Fuck, you taste good,” he moans, his lips sucking my bottom lip. He’s about to lose control again when Becca’s voice makes us both freeze.
“What the hell is going on!”
I blink rapidly, moving to step away from him, but his hand around my waist won’t let me. That’s when it registers that the thick, hard pole running up my belly is not his racket because he tossed it aside earlier.
“Oh God.” I glance down, then quickly at Becca.
“When did— What?” I can’t help but wonder if the look of confusion on her face is also mirrored on my own because I can’t register what and how this all just took place. “Are you two together because I thought—” She thumbs over her shoulder, turning to look at Mia and Miguel who are both staring at us.
“I—no, no, we’re not together. At all,” I say emphatically as I reach around my waist to unlatch Austin’s hand from my body.
“Not officially.”
“What?” My head snaps back around to Austin. “No, no.” He finally releases me and I step out of his grasp, but he keeps me in front of him. “No, we are not together in any capacity and thanks,” I say, motioning toward Miguel and Mia, “for making it super fucking awkward for our new employee’s first day of work tomorrow. And for being an absolute shit date for Mia. Hope you’re happy.”
“I am so confused,” I hear Becca say as I make my way away from them to grab my things and head out, leaving Austin to deal with his obvious hard-on by himself.
“I am so sorry,” I say as I approach Mia. “I did not know he was going to do that and he was?—”
“It’s okay.” She laughs. “I’m sure he told you we were just friends and you didn’t believe him?”
“Wait.”
“We really are just friends. I’m going to leave it at that because I think it will make sense someday but I’m not sure if it will right now. But you’re not stepping on my toes by kissing him.” She giggles.
“Okay,” I say, now more confused than ever. “Miguel.” He holds his hands up and shakes his head as if to say don’t worry about it, no explanation needed.
So I leave. I grab my purse and walk as fast as I can to where I’m parked in the very back of the country club lot.
“Of course he parked next to me,” I huff under my breath when I see his matte black Range Rover parked next to my Mercedes. I root through my purse for my keys, my car beeping when I find them and hit the unlock button. Yanking my door open harder than necessary, I toss my purse into the passenger seat and slide behind the wheel. My foot is already depressing the brake when I hit the start button. I reach for the gearshift instinctively when I lift my head but I don’t shift.
Austin is standing right in front of my car.
“Turn it off, Taylor. Get out of the car.”
My hand darts toward the button, then I pause, remembering his comments last night about wanting to play a game of cat and mouse.
Is that what I’m doing? Do I want to be the mouse?
I hit the button, cutting the engine.
“Get out of the car,” he says again. This time his tone is deeper but a smile still plays at his lips. “You know I won’t say it again.”
Before I can second-guess myself, I’m pulling on the handle, pushing the door open, and stepping out of my car.
“Come to apologize?”
“Come here.” He crooks his finger, summoning me.
“I guess not.” I close the door, taking a few steps toward him. When I’m within reach, he slides his hand down my arm, gently slipping his fingers through mine until they’re intertwined.
“I told you we needed to talk.” He gently tugs my hand as he takes a few steps toward his vehicle. “So, let’s talk for a few minutes.”
My feet fall in line with his, walking slowly around the far side of his Range Rover until we’re almost hidden. He releases my hand, his fingers trailing up my arm several inches before he plants his palm against the vehicle next to my face, his other hand pressing against my belly until my back touches the door behind me.
“I told you there was nothing between Mia and me—” I open my mouth to interrupt him but I’m caught off guard when his hand against my belly dips beneath my waistband. “Tsk, tsk.” He clicks his tongue at me. “Don’t interrupt me.”
“Oh my God,” I utter, half in astonishment that his fingers are now in my panties and half in excitement about what’s going to happen when he touches me.
“But I can understand how a miscommunication”—his fingers slide farther down—“or perhaps lack of communication today upset you.” He’s hovering just above my clit. “And I didn’t mean to catch you off guard like that by showing up with her.”
I bite down on my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. In one motion he slides his middle finger all the way deep inside me.
“Ohhhh.” I can’t hold back my moan this time. My head lulls slightly forward, my hand darting forward to clutch his shirt. “What the fuuu…”
“Look at me.” He lifts the hand next to my face, gently wrapping his fingers around my jaw and pinning my head back so that I’m staring at him. “I didn’t appreciate your attitude, though.” He pauses his movement. “It was really unnecessary.”
I squirm against his hand, trying to catch some sort of friction.
“Do you want me to stop?” I hesitate. “Taylor.” He leans closer. “Do you want me to stop?”
Slowly, I shake my head no.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, his fingers beginning to lazily pump in and out of me. “You know you deserve this, right?” He slides his thumb into my mouth, my teeth clamping down on it. “You deserve to be reminded what happens when you’re not a good girl.”
Holy fuck, is he acting out a BookTok scene right now?
“You don’t get to tell me no,” he whispers in my ear before nipping my earlobe. “You get to take whatever pleasure I want to give you.” He drags his teeth over the exposed flesh of my neck. “Even if I want to spread you across my desk in the middle of the fucking day and tongue-fuck the shit out of you.”
I throb against his finger, a red flush breaking across my chest in embarrassment, my body responding to every single touch and movement he makes. And oh God, every single word he’s saying has me wanting to slap him, then beg him not to stop… ever.
He drags his thumb roughly against my lip. “I really don’t think you realize how fucking turned on you get me with that attitude of yours.” He crooks his finger, hitting my G-spot perfectly. “Even if it pisses me off.”
“Oh fu—” He hits it again. “Oh.” And again. My body jerks violently.
“You like that, Taylor?” His lips are so close to mine. “I can feel your pussy throbbing against my finger, getting wetter by the second and in about”—he glances just to his left through the windshield—“thirty seconds, our friends are going to be able to see what I’m doing to you.”
My eyes fly open and I try to push against him. I want to lean forward to look toward where he’s looking, but he has me pinned against the side of his truck.
“I’m going to keep doing this to you,” he says calmly as repeats his actions, edging me over and over, “so that you know just how frustrated you have left me every single fucking day for the last five years.”
The moment he says it, two things happen.
One, I realize that he isn’t roleplaying right now; this is Austin talking. The same man who has been a secret fantasy of mine since the moment I met him, taking out his sexual frustration on me from the last five years in public, up against his vehicle in the middle of the fucking day, knowing we’re so close to being caught.
And two, I come loudly all over his fingers.