Chapter 41
CHAPTER 41
T aylor’s place is nothing like I imagined.
His persona at work made me think of stark white walls and sleek metal appliances. Not the older Spanish-style complex with fruit trees growing in its front yard. We step inside, and my gaze goes to the elaborate crown moldings and hand-painted tiles. I shiver at the cool breeze blowing through an ancient air conditioning unit.
Taylor moves to shut the door and I turn in a circle. He has decorated his walls with framed box office posters and ticket stubs. I’m surprised when I recognize nearly all the films—the majority being romantic comedies.
“And you said you didn’t know how to tell a story,” I murmur.
Taylor rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t. I just like watching them.”
I trace a finger down a wooden frame, biting my tongue. No one who lives surrounded by this many movies can claim indifference to the craft. Now it makes sense why writing came so naturally to him. I glance over, remembering what he said when he asked for my help. He wanted to get better at his job, to impress Victor with his script coverage. Now, I wonder if that’s only the partial truth. Perhaps his interest in screenwriting goes deeper than that.
I follow him into his living room, swiveling my head in every direction. The only way to describe Taylor’s house is warm . He has a set of mismatched armchairs on opposite sides of a worn leather couch. An old chest serves as a coffee table, and I can see the outline of every cup he’s ever balanced on its hide. Several knitted blankets hang off the back of his couch and I place one in my lap, running my fingers over the multi-colored fabric. Taylor has organically curated the kind of space the Havens hired an expert to replicate. But where they paid thousands of dollars to mimic vintage pieces, Taylor’s styled the real things.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Taylor’s a little bit flushed, watching me with a strange look in his eyes. He’s let me inside his inner sanctum and I bet he’s holding his breath, waiting to see what I’ll do with the keys. If I was still his arch-enemy, I could use the things I’ve seen here against him. I could reach inside his chest and rip out his still-beating heart.
But I’m not his enemy. I haven’t been for a while.
I turn to him with a smile. “Tea would be great if you have any.”
“Chamomile, right?” He hurries to his kitchen, grabbing what looks to be a handmade mug from a shelf. “From that little store by the Havens’ grocer?”
My eyes go a bit wide when he retrieves the very same jar of loose-leaf tea I keep stocked at home. “How did you know that?”
“You’ve mentioned it a couple times.” He shrugs, like it’s totally normal for him to have my favorite brand stored in his cupboard.
I mosey on over to his kitchen, pulling open his fridge. A little breath escapes me. The entire thing is stocked with the snacks and juices I like. There are sparkling water flavors I’ve never seen him drink, and the same brand of fruit jellies I keep in my purse.
I almost ask if he prepared these for me before remembering I was the one who initiated going to his apartment. He had no reason to believe I’d even be here tonight. Taylor turns, flushing when he follows my gaze.
“I didn’t know you liked half of these brands.” Actually, I’m sure he didn’t. I don’t know how many times I’ve offered him that exact kind of kombucha just for him to turn up his nose.
Taylor clears his throat. “I, ah, was trying something new.”
I close his fridge with a shake of my head. Taylor hands me my mug and I let out a little sigh. “You didn’t poison this, did you?”
This startles a laugh out of Taylor. “Taste it and find out.”
I make a big show out of taking my first sip, bugging out my eyes as if something is amiss. In the end, he cuts my performance short with a sweet kiss.
“There, now we’ve both been poisoned.”
“Okay, Romeo.” I pull Taylor back to the couch, happy to see he’s made his own cup of tea.
We sit side by side, and for the first time tonight, there’s a lull in conversation. I shift, settling into his cushions. Those pesky butterflies have made an unwanted reappearance, and I’m doing my best to keep my fingers from shaking as I grip my mug.
“I haven’t done this in a while,” I start at the same time Taylor says:
“You’re the first person I’ve brought home.”
We grin at each other and I shake my head. “We never used to finish each other’s sentences.”
“I dunno, I think we’ve always had a lot more in common than we wanted to admit.”
He isn’t wrong. Two people don’t butt heads the way we do if they aren’t fighting over the same things.
Taylor stretches out his legs, his thigh rubbing against mine. “I haven’t gone on a date in at least nine months,” he begins in a deceptively light voice. “I had an awful feeling I’d compare anyone I met to this one girl I couldn’t have.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I’ve—” I cut myself off before I embarrass myself. But Taylor’s already grinning. He points a finger at me.
“No, no. Go on. What was that?”
I look around the room, pretending I haven’t heard him.
He leans in, wrapping a hand around the back of my neck. Mischief sparks in his eyes when he says, “I dare you.”
Well, those are the magic words. I huff a sigh. “I’ve been comparing boys to you for the past decade, Taylor. Happy?”
“Extremely.”
I wipe the smirk off his face with another kiss. He groans as I part his lips with my tongue, claiming him as I’ve been dreaming of doing all day. His arms go around me, pushing me against his chest. One of his hands roams my hair as the other slides down to my ass. Taylor gives me a light smack that pulls a moan from my lips.
“That damn sound,” he groans. “I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. You’re like a fucking siren.”
He stands without warning, coaxing my legs to wrap around his waist. I let my kisses trail onto his neck as he carries me down a hallway. I let out a little squeal when he drops me onto his bed. This room is as cozy as the last. Mismatched art hangs on his walls—black and white photographs and abstract paintings, and yes, a couple more movie posters.
“I love your home,” I whisper as Taylor leans over me.
“Oh yeah?”
My response nearly disappears under my whimper as he slides his hand into my top, grazing the underside of my breasts.
“I love these,” he murmurs, kneading me through my bra.
I help him lift my shirt over my head and I get to watch as desire darkens his gaze. I’m wearing one of the lingerie sets Taylor never got to see. Red mesh barely covers my chest, lace doing very little to obscure the hard points of my nipples.
“You take my breath away.”
Because he’s taking too long to do it himself, I run a hand up my stomach, showing him how I like to be played with. His pupils have swallowed up all of the hazel, his throat working as he watches me roll a nipple between my fingers.
“ Fuck. I need to feel you.” Taylor reaches behind me, unhooking my bra with practiced ease. He rears up, using one hand to yank his shirt over his head. Pink floods my cheeks as he lowers himself over me.
“It really is unfair that you look the way you do.”
His lips twitch. “Is that your teeny tiny crush talking, Montes?”
I shake my head. “That crush might not be so teeny tiny anymore.”
The smile Taylor gives me is soft and sweet and all mine. “I could say the same.”
Taylor’s weight presses me against the sheets. His hips roll and I arch up to meet him, grinding against his hardness until I’m dripping between my thighs. Taylor undresses me piece by piece, sighing with each new reveal of skin. He licks my naked breasts, rubbing a thumb against my clit until I’m twitching against him. I’m breathless, half mindless with need when his boxers finally come off. I reach for his waist, desperate for him to press his length exactly where I need it. But Taylor pauses, a shy expression crossing his face.
“I haven’t done this in a really long time.” He swallows. “I might not be any good.”
I snag his hand, dragging him over me. Taylor wedges a knee between my thighs, groaning his approval as I grind against it.
“I mean it, baby,” he whispers, gripping my hip. I mewl as he pushes me down, encouraging my writhing. “Needy little thing.”
“Don’t care,” I manage to breathe. “Just want you. Do you want to fuck me or not, Hedlund?”
He slides his leg away with a growl, settling over me. I moan, arching up as he reaches for a condom. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you for ages, Ayla. Since I saw you in the Havens’ kitchen wearing the stuffiest little suit I’ve ever seen. I’ve imagined unbuttoning your blouses a million times over, running my hand down the seam of your trousers. Even when we couldn’t exchange a single sentence without arguing, I still wanted you. It’s my worst kept secret.”
He slides into me with a groan and I let out a little squeak. It’s been a while for me, too. Taylor is thick and long and my breath catches in my throat as I’m stretched around him.
“Are you okay?”
I manage to nod, urging him to keep moving.
Taylor’s eyes move between my own before he dips his chin. And with one quick thrust, he pushes the rest of the way inside me. I arch back, pleasure and pain coaxing a whimper from my lips.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, kissing the skin next to my mouth. “Knew you’d want to just get it over with.”
I let out a breathy laugh. At this point, I shouldn’t be surprised by how well Taylor knows me. It’s nearly as well as I know him.
I rake my hands down his back, showing him how I want him. Fast. Hard. But when I meet his eyes, there’s a bashfulness there I wasn’t expecting. He’s been such a smooth talker, playing my body like he knows exactly how to make me tick, that I’m surprised when he moves in jerky, shallow thrusts. Sweat is already beading his brow, his arms trembling with each push.
I swallow a little smile. There’s a time to tease Taylor, but now isn’t it. I want him to know he’s wanted, that I love how he feels, no matter how long he lasts. Knowing what it will do to him, I reach between my thighs, rubbing my clit as I meet his thrusts.
Taylor curses, head dropping down to mine. “I’m not…Ayla, I’m sorry, I can’t…”
“I know, baby,” I soothe. “Let go when you need to.”
He catches my lips, ravaging my mouth like he’s showing me how he intends to take me next time. I moan around his tongue, meeting him thrust for thrust until his body shudders. I open my eyes, watching Taylor come undone.
I’m unable to smother my grin when he drifts down from his high. He shakes his head, letting out a pained little laugh.
“Well,” I say, slowly, “It’s kind of nice knowing you aren’t good at everything. ”
Taylor’s eyes go wide, an incensed look crossing his face. “I’m out of practice. Trust me, I can fucking rock your world.”
“Sure you can.” I pat the top of his damp head. “Keep telling yourself that, tiger— ahh! ”
Taylor yanks me to the edge of the bed, pushing up my hips until they’re the same height as his mouth. Something flashes through his eyes, and I get the ghost of a smile crossing his lips before he brings his mouth to my core. He laps at me with firm, long licks, paying extra attention to the bud at the top of my slit. He begins to moan, like the taste of me is making him come undone. And maybe it is. No one’s ever eaten me like this—until I’m gushing, my every drop treated as its own delicacy.
I let out a cry when Taylor thrusts into me, filling me with his tongue. Through a haze of pleasure, I realize he’s fucking me in the way I wanted. Brutal and fast and— “ Fuck, yes, right there—”
I spasm, and Taylor adjusts his hands, balancing me so he can reach over to rub my clit as he feasts. I’m babbling, I think. Murmuring nonsense as he shoves me over the edge.
He makes a sound like a growl as I come, claiming me through his languorous kisses. I’m pulled into his arms when I stop shaking, folded sweetly against his chest. Taylor is breathing as hard as I am, his hands unable to stop running over the length of my body.
“Ready to take it back?” he murmurs into my hair.
I’m still breathless when I let out a pitiful little, “No?”
“Good,” he rasps. He grips my chin, yanking my head up until I meet his eyes. He drags a thumb against my lower lip, edging it into my mouth. I begin to suck without meaning to, letting out little whimpers as his eyes grow heavy with lust. “We’re going to have lots of fun making you eat your words.”