Taylor Made

by kj lewis

“Graham is different with you.” Lucy’s playfulness gives way to seriousness when Becca and Jules leave.

  “I wouldn’t have anything to compare it to. I only met him last week,” I tell her. I don’t want to get her hopes up.

  “He never brings his other girls home.”

  “He didn’t bring me home, Lucy. Adam and Jules brought me.”

  “Maybe. But he doesn’t hide his feelings for you. He holds your hand. He wants your input on things. He kissed the top of your head the other day.” She’s got a little laundry list going.

  “I think we are both just taking it one day at a time, and I’m not convinced it will end up being much.”

  “I realize I’m young, but I know my brother. I know people say he’s ruthless in business, but he has a good heart and I want to see him happy.”

  “That’s all I want,” I assure her.

  “Well, goodnight.” She bounces out of the hot tub and into the house. I soak for a few minutes and then dive into the pool to swim a few light laps before heading to my room.

  “This is really good,” Graham says when I walk in on him looking at something on my laptop.

  “You startled me. What are you looking at?” I close the door and walk to the desk. He’s reading the grants I have been working on.

  “You write better grant proposals than my team does.”

  “Thanks. I believe there is a formula for most everything. If you can figure it out for whatever task you’re working on, then you’ve found the sweet spot. The sweet spots for grants is to show what they get in return for their money and to accurately send the information they requested.”

  “How long have you been working on this?”

  “I started it when Reggie was a sophomore. He graduated this year, so what, three years? That’s from conception to now.” I remove my suit and stand naked in front of him.

  “You’re sexy as fuck.”

  “Graham.”

  “Emelia.”

  We stand there like two stubborn mules, Graham wearing a goofy grin.

  “Ride ‘em and fuck ‘em puts you in a playful mood.” I raise my brow at him.

  He moves to standing so close in front of me that my nipples almost brush his chest. I take a step back just as he reaches up to touch me. I leave to take my shower. He doesn’t follow.

  I sleep by myself. It’s the first night we haven’t shared a bed, other than when I stayed at Jackson’s. I think he’s trying to distance himself. I can’t stand how all over the place I am. It unnerves me. I’m used to having everything planned—thought out. I’m used to being in control.

  I can’t sleep so I get up to work. It’s almost four in the morning when I make my way down to the kitchen for a snack. My stomach is happy to find left over pasta. I fix a place at the island and dig in.

  “Care if I join you dear?” Ruth grabs a glass from the cabinet, filling it with water. “Trouble sleeping?”

  “It’s so common place now, I don’t know that I would call it trouble. I usually don’t get more than four hours a night. My body has been catching up while I’m here.” I offer her some pasta, but she declines.

  “I just came for a glass of water. I woke up thirsty. You know, Emme, when Jules and Adam brought you here in July, I told Ben you would be a good match for Graham.”

  Her observation makes me blush. “Ruth…”

  She pats my hand to let me know she isn’t finished. “Graham can be his own worst enemy when it comes to relationships. He doesn’t think he deserves someone like you. He’s always treated his relationships like business deals. No one knows better than I how stubborn and controlling he can be. Don’t give up on him. Most of all don’t stop giving it back to him. It’s a joy to watch. Reminds me of when I was dating Ben.” She winks and slides off her stool. “Good night dear.” She exits with another pat to my hand.

  Bruiser and I finish my pasta, and I opt for the couch instead of going back to my room. I wish I had a barometer when it comes to Graham. I hear what Lucy and Ruth have said, but it contradicts what Graham himself has told me. Like tonight, we clearly had a bond and then he didn’t sleep with me. Why?

  I finally figure out what button to push to slide the TV up. Sleep finally claims me somewhere in the beginning of McClintock. I love this movie. Addie and I used to watch it with Grandpapa. He loved John Wayne. I hear voices in the distance. It takes me a minute to realize they aren’t on the TV and they aren’t at a distance.

  “This is one of my favorite movies. My dad and I used to watch it growing up,” Matt says.

  “Me too,” Ben chimes in.

  “Breakfast is ready.” Jules enters the room, placing a soft hand on my hip.

  “Let her sleep. She doesn’t get enough as it is,” Matt argues. “I doubt there are nights that she gets three hours. I don’t know how she keeps the schedule she does. Her sleeping habits are the worst of all of us, and we’re surgical residents.”

  “Ruth said she was eating pasta at four, so I doubt she’s hungry,” Ben says.

  I turn to face them. “She is awake. And she can always eat.”

  With a roll of his eyes, Ben laughs and cuts off the TV. “Then get shakin’ bacon.”

  “Clever, dad,” Graham placates, entering just as I stand to stretch.

  At the outdoor dining table, Graham sets a cranberry sparkling water in front of me.

  “How much longer?” I make a whining noise.

  “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”

  “Don’t poke the bear, Graham,” Matt advises with a shake of his head.

  Graham gives him a look that says “I think I can handle her.”

  Matt laughs. “I would like it to be noted that he has been warned.”

  “Maybe if you got some decent sleep you wouldn’t be so grumpy.”

  “I’m not grumpy, you pompous blowhole. I just want my Diet Coke!” Ruth walks by me, and I grab her arm looking up at her with my best puppy dog eyes. “Please make him leave me alone. I beg of you.” Fat lot of good it did. All I got from her was a wink and a loving pat on the cheek.

  They made my favorite. Waffles. I cover mine with strawberries and whipped cream. It’s just what I need to get moving.

  “What’s on everyone’s agenda for today?” Ben asks passing a plate of bacon.

  “Yum! Bay-con,” Adam says in a really bad French accent. “I have some errands to run while Jules does the finishing touches on her and Mags’ outfits for tonight.”

  “I have work to take care of,” Graham adds.

  “Becca and I are hanging at the beach today and having a picnic before she has to leave tomorrow,” Matt chimes in.

  “I have nothing to do,” I say, crunching on a piece of bacon.

  “Yes you do,” Jules says.

  “I do?”

  “Yes, you do” she says, giving me a funny look.

  “What?”

  “You know.”

  “Clearly I don’t.”

  “Yes, you do,” she says more forcefully.

  “No matter what kind of bow you put on this, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  “I made an appointment for you…” she sings.

  “I still have no idea what you are talking about,” I sing back to her.

  “Jesus, Mags! You have to get your honey pot tended to before wearing my design tonight.”

  “Please don’t put ‘Jesus’ in the same sentence as my ‘honey pot’, and you could have just told me that in private.”

  “I tried to tell you privately.”

  “Looking at me with big eyes in a cryptic manner doesn’t tell me anything. I need a manual for that look.”

  “Glad to know it’s not just me you’re in a bad mood with,” Graham smirks from across the table. I’d love to slap it off his chiseled, good-looking face.

  “I’m not in a bad mood! I don’t get in bad moods!”

  “Can I go with you, Mags? I’ve never done my honey pot before,” Lucy says.

  All I he
ar next is a chorus of silverware hitting plates.

  “Not cool,” Adam says.

  “I’m going to be sick,” Graham adds.

  “Dear, you know you can’t talk about your honey pot in front of your brothers,” Ruth says, not missing a beat. “They prefer you didn’t have one.”

  “I’m seventeen, and I’m not a nun. They can get over it,” she announces defiantly.

  “Here, here,” I applaud her. “Yes, Lucy, you can go with me.” I glare at Graham.

  “As long as you take security,” he returns my glare.

  “One o’clock.” Jules distracts me from staring at Graham.

  “Right. One o’clock.” I stand and clear my plate. “I’ll wash. Graham, you can dry.”

  “I have…”

  “You can dry. This isn’t a hotel,” I say firmly.

  “Graham is drying,” Ruth confirms with a smile.

  “Something wrong with your hand son?” Ben asks.

  “What, dad?” Graham asks.

  “You were flexing in open and closed. I thought maybe it was bothering you.”

  “I wasn’t aware I was doing it,” he says as he follows me into the kitchen.

  “Adam, you clear,” Ruth adds.

  Graham deftly dries the last pan as I empty the dishwater and wipe around the sink.

  “When were you planning on asking permission?”

  “Hmmm?” I ask folding the towel and draping it over the sink.

  “Were you planning on asking my permission?” His midnight eyes focused on my reaction.

  “For what?” I really am clueless.

  “Getting waxed.” I half laugh thinking he’s bombing a joke, when I realize he’s completely serious.

  “Graham,” he cuts me off when I start to really tell him what I think.

  “This time, I’ll let it slide since I know it’s for Jules’ design, but just a friendly reminder,” he leans into me and runs his thumb over my nipple then pinches it before whispering in my ear. “Mine.” And with that, he turns and leaves me panting in the kitchen.

  I share my shower with Florence and the Machine, and try to calm my frustration that Graham is so mercurial. He doesn’t want to share. Tells me I am his. “Mine.” And then puts a cap on our time together. I’m frustrated.

  Stepping out of the shower, I decide I am going to dance for Graham now. Try to move us towards a resolution in terms. It takes about forty minutes to get ready—thirty minutes longer than usual.

  I opt for a white lace bustier that stops just above my hips. Its corset design bubbles my breasts up, with my nipples peeking through the fabric. I add a soft pink lace boy short that cuts high across my cheeks. I pull on a pair of silk thigh-highs that Jules lent me and grab a pair of six-inch heels that almost kill me. Jackson calls them my “fuck me” heels.

  I lower the shades in my room so that it is pitch black, with the only light coming from the soft-lit lamp in the corner. I spent some time last night mixing a song together for my performance and I load it up so that it’s ready to go. I place a scarf on each side of the chair and grab my phone while I head into the closet.

  I text Graham, “Can you help me with my zipper?”

  “Only if I’m helping it down,” he replies

  “Have a seat. I’ll be right out.”

  I hear the door open and close.

  “Emelia?”

  “Have a seat, Graham,” I say from the closet. I can see him, but it’s too dark for him to see me. Once he takes his seat, I come up behind him, resting my breasts against his neck, kissing his temple.

  “Don’t turn around,” I instruct, slowly running my hands down his arms. “Feet on the floor.”

  He complies. I pick up the scarf and gently tie his hand to the back leg of the chair. “No touching,” I say softly in his ear, giving it a light lick before I move to his other side and repeat.

  “Emelia.” His voice deep and sexy.

  “Graham.” I whisper in his ear, ending with a soft bite to his ear lobe. Hitting a button on my laptop, Beyoncé starts an acapella

  “Let me sit this ass…”

  I move into a sitting position on Graham’s lap. My back to his front, my ass on his dick.

  “…on you, show you how I feel.”

  I dance slowly around him, running my hands over his body and mine. His breathing is shallow and his chest is wide. CEO Graham is getting a lap dance. Perfect. He’s just the person I wanted to show up.

  I keep the time I practiced. I sit on his lap, facing him, grinding my sex against him. My hair is loose and falls around us.

  I echo the words to the song into his ear, “hold me ‘til I scream for air to breathe.”

  I lightly kiss his lips, pulling away as he tries to deepen the kiss. I can feel his erection. The song segues into Rhianna’s “Skin.”

  I moan in time with the beginning lyrics, coming to the position I practiced with Jules. I move his knees apart slightly, and I slowly sway my hips down and then roll my body up his torso his so that my sex is within a half an inch from his face. The back of my head is between his knees.

  I’m close enough that when he nods his head, his chin rubs down my sex, igniting a flame in me. I bounce my ass and then slowly bring my legs out straight and down, turning me back into the sitting position.

  I mount his lap as I run my hands over my breast, pulling on my nipples through the lace. In a move I had not planned on, I slowly run my tongue over the swell of my breast never taking my eyes off his. I feel his breathing alter. I begin to grind against his erection, kissing him and letting him kiss me back, but at the pace I control. I pull back when he tries to take charge. Tutting and shaking my head at him. My hands find a home in his hair on each side of his face. I tug as I continue to skate my tongue over his. It’s a false sense of control, but one I need. I intended for my vulnerability to be erotic, but my earlier frustrations come flooding back and I realize I can’t continue this back and forth. This is more to me than an affair. I begin to deepen the kiss and quicken the pace of the movement.

  Craving more pressure, I move my wet sex against him, my body shaking as I start to climax touching him, letting him hear my orgasm, letting him feel my shudders. As soon as I reach the deepest point of my climax, I pull myself closer to him, his face against my neck. And before my mind catches up with me,s I moan deeply and whisper in his ear, “Oh, Blaine.”

  I would have had a better chance of survival if I had lit a fuse to a stick of dynamite.

  As soon as Blaine rolled off my lips and Graham registered what I said, his hands were loose and I was propelled through the air onto the bed. Graham pounced on me like a lion out for the kill.

  “What the fuck!” This is angry Graham. And he has shown up with a vengeance. Within what seems like a second or two at the most, Graham has ripped my bustier and underwear from me, slamming into me with a force I was waiting for.

  “Graham.” I say his name softly to soothe his anger.

  “Don’t start with the cautious tone! If I wasn’t afraid I’d hurt you, I’d fuck your mouth till my name was the only one you could say.”

  He moves in and out of me, his pace relentless and rough. I’m surprised by my body’s response time. I can feel myself climbing already. I am just about to orgasm when Graham pulls out.

  “Don’t even think about it, Emelia.” He turns me over and pops my ass hard before he sinks into me from behind. “You played this game because you wanted to see me without control. Well, you’ve got it.”

  As he says it, I know without a doubt that he is in complete control. He would never hurt me or go to a place where he didn’t stop the second I said to.

  His dick is long and hard pulling out of me to the tip and slamming back into me. “I’m the only man that’s been inside of you, and it will stay that way. Do you understand me?” he demands through gritted teeth.

  I moan. Pop!

  “Answer me, dammit!”

  I don’t answer.

  �
�Fine. We’ll play it your way, Emelia.” I continue towards my orgasm almost falling over the cliff just as he pulls out and walks to the bathroom. My breathing is erratic, struggling to even out. I survived it. It’s done. I start to lower myself to the bed when he re-enters the room.

  “Don’t fucking move.”

  He’s behind me again. He rubs his cock over the folds of my sex. It takes me a minute once he’s pushed into me again to realize he’s applied a lubricant. Why? He begins to move. My nerve endings are on fire, my body craving release.

  “Graham,” I beg, my arms shaking.

  He pulls out of me and rubs his hand up and down his length. I realize I’m licking my lips. His eyes heat up as he watches my reaction. At least I know he isn’t unfazed by all this. I feel warm liquid against my sex. It moves up to the crack of my ass.

  “You started this, Emelia. I will finish it. I’m claiming the last part of you. I promise you my name will be the only one on your lips before I’m done. Do you understand me? Emelia?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes what?” he sinks his finger in me, adding another after I’ve had a minute to acclimate. The foreign sensation feels amazing after I become accustomed to it. I do my best to form an answer over my moan. He slaps my ass hard again.

  “Yes. I understand.” My chest rises and falls in deep heaves.

  “Do you want me to stop?” he rubs my lower back and even in his anger, his touch has gentled and the sincerity in his words are evident.

  “No. I don’t.”

  Removing his finger, he pushes the tip of his cock into my ass, stopping just inside to give me time to acclimate. My breathing is erratic.

  “Steady you’re breathing, baby.” He gives me a minute to do this.

  “Now, push out as I push into you. Make sure you go slowly.”

  I nod my understanding and slowly push back on him. The feeling is different. Not good, but not bad either. The fullness is painful at first, but it’s gone quickly.

  He patiently sinks deeper into me in intervals. A couple of minutes later he begins to glide in and out of me, his pace tender. As I become more accustomed to him, he finds his stride and begins to really move. I feel his pelvis hitting against my ass. I never thought this would be something I enjoyed or would even try, but with Graham it, I don’t know, it just seems right for him to have every part of me.