Taylored to Perfection (Taylor Made Book 2)

by kj lewis

  “Emelia,” Graham says gently. “Baby.” He kisses the bridge of my nose before placing light kisses on my lips. “Would you rather go lay down?”

  “No.” I stretch, just realizing I dozed off.

  “How long was I asleep?” I run my thumb back and forth over his neck.

  “A little more than an hour.”

  “What?” I sit up. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “Because I love holding you,” he says, finding a home for my hair behind my ear.

  “I’m sorry. Usually I can lock my shit down and keep my emotions in check.”

  “Don’t. Don’t hide how you feel from me. Ever. I want to know every part of you, Emelia. Showing your emotions doesn’t mean you aren’t strong. You’re the strongest person I know. But I like it when you let me be strong for you. I need you to let me be there for you.”

  “I know what you need.” I repeat his often-used phrase to him.

  “You do? And what pray tell do I need?” he seductively teases to lighten the mood.

  “You, my fine sir, need to carve a pumpkin.” I slide behind the wheel.

  “Well, that’s over.” He shakes his head smiling.

  “I’ll never be that sappy girl.”

  “No, I don’t believe you will ever be that girl. But don’t wait fifteen more years before you show her to me.”

  “Would you like the first drive?” I ask him, hitting the garage door opener attached to the sun visor.

  “And be responsible for ruining the smile you have right now? I don’t think so. Drive, James,” he says, sliding on his aviators.

  I clap again when Scout starts.

  “Hey, baby,” I greet him as I pet the dashboard. “I’ve missed you.” Putting the car in gear, I turn to Graham. “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be,” he says handing me a ball cap.

  “We already have pumpkins.” I switch gears as we make our way down the drive. “Where to?”

  “Let’s run by mom and dad’s. I think they have some newspaper we can use to carve the pumpkins on. Then maybe take a drive to Montauk. We can leave some of the seeds for the deer.”

  “Sounds perfect.” I pull up to the main house.

  “You coming or are you going to wait here?”

  “I’ll come.” I climb out when Graham opens my door for me.

  I take a detour to the bathroom, and ask, “Ready?” as I walk into the kitchen holding my sweater under my chin while I work on zipping and buttoning my favorite jeans of Graham’s.

  “Surprise!”

  I jump in mid-zip. Looking up, I am shocked to find everyone I love here.

  “What…”

  “Happy Birthday!” Lucy jumps from leg to leg clapping before throwing her arms around me.

  “What are you guys doing here?” I’m passed around for hugs and kisses. “Becca!” I’m surprised to see her most.

  “Graham invited us to spend the weekend for your birthday.” She hugs my neck.

  “We’re here to carve pumpkins,” Patrick says kissing my cheek. “The girls are on the playground.” He points to his nieces outside.

  “Why don’t you guys help me carry in the pumpkins?” Graham recruits Adam, Matt, Drew, and Jackson. “Holt and Reggie, too. There’s about forty of them out there.”

  “Grab the wheelbarrow son,” Ben says, enveloping me in a hug.

  “Mom! Dad!” I sing happily when I see them. “I’ve missed you.” I haven’t seen them much. They’ve been spending all their free time with Addie since I wasn’t able to.

  “Our first birthday together,” Eloise says.

  “Why don’t we make our way outside? I have tables set up and ready for everyone to carve.” Ruth announces shuffling us out.

  “I am in awe of you,” I tell Ruth as we walk to the table. “I don’t know how you do it.” Picnic tables have been set end to end to accommodate everyone. Each place setting is covered in newspaper and carving kits. There are hotdogs on the grill, snacks on the counter, and drinks in an old metal bin. Sunflowers and fall berries are arranged down the center of each table.

  Looking around, I count thirty of us. Outside of the Taylor and Forrester families, Matt and Becca are here with Drew and Amanda. Joy and Teague are talking with Henry and his wife. Smith is introducing his wife to Jackson and Patrick, while Reggie animatedly tells Holt and his parents a story.

  “This is a fraction of the lives you have impacted. The greatest being mine.” Graham wraps his arms around me from behind before he turns me and kisses me.

  “I want a kiss.” Bethany, Patrick’s youngest niece pulls on my sweater. Giggling, I squat down to plant one on her nose. “Not you,” she says like I’m the silliest thing. “Graham.” She says.

  “You want a kiss from me?” He snatches her up and tickles her before covering her face in a hundred kisses.

  “They need to watch that one. She’s gonna be trouble,” I nod my head to Jackson in Graham’s direction.

  “Don’t get him started,” Patrick says. “I’m still getting him used to the idea of you being married.”

  “If I had my way, you would all be in a nunnery where it rained Skittles,” Jackson says sourly.

  “He actually used the word ‘deflowered’ on your honeymoon night,” Patrick laughs.

  “Please tell me you do not use that word. You are not ninety. Plus, I gave Graham my flower well before my honeymoon night.”

  Jackson clutches his chest like he’s been wounded in his heart. Patrick rolls his eyes and laughs.

  “What are y’all talking about?” Harry and Eloise walk up, handing me a Diet Coke.

  “Graham taking Emme’s flower,” Jackson attempts to turn the tables on me.

  “He’s the one who started this.” I point to Patrick.

  “Before their honeymoon night,” Jackson adds, narrowing his eyes at me and then taking a long swig of beer.

  “Sometimes I just want to beat the shit out of him,” Harry says to Jackson who promptly nods and clinks his beer bottle against Harry’s.

  “Beat the shit out of who?” Graham asks walking up.

  “You,” Jackson and Harry say simultaneously, giving Graham the evil eye.

  “What did I do?”

  “You took her flower,” Jackson says before he and Harry walk away.

  “What?”

  “You’ll understand when you have a daughter,” Eloise laughs before she joins Ruth and Jean.

  “Don’t worry about it. Patrick and I were just giving Jackson and Harry a hard time. Thank you, this is wonderful.”

  “You wanted to carve pumpkins,” he says.

  “Twenty bucks says mine beats yours.”

  “I used to think there wasn’t anyone as competitive as me in this world. Then you came along.”

  “You’re just used to people giving you your own way.”

  “I never have to worry about that with you,” he smirks. “Let’s make it interesting.”

  “What did you have in mind?” I slide my hand into the back pocket of his jeans and squeeze his ass.

  “If I win, I get to have my wicked way with you.”

  “And if I win?”

  “You can have your wicked way with me.”

  “I imagine this to be happening no matter what. Be serious. If I win, you have to call me master and be my sex slave for the weekend.”

  “I love you, sweetheart, but there’s no way I’m ceding dominance to you.”

  I’m surprised how serious he is. “Then I guess you better win,” I challenge.

  “Fine. If I win you have to go skydiving with me.”

  “Be serious.”

  “I am. I want to take you skydiving.”

  “Graham.”

  “Emelia.” He sees the visible fear on my face. “Guess you better win.”

  Ben announces how the judging will take place, as we each pick out the pumpkin of our choosing. The pumpkins have been lined up on the picnic tables and I chose one that is between Jackson and Smith
’s wife. I’m enjoying getting to know her, and I can see that she truly is the free spirit he says she is.

  About an hour later most everyone has finished carving. I’m putting the finishing touches on mine.

  “Yours is good.” Graham offers his hot dog up for me to take a bite.

  “Your master will be expecting you naked and ready when this is over.”

  “Whatever you say, Yoda.” He hands me a bottle of water and walks off with my Diet Coke.

  Each person assigns each pumpkin a number from one to ten. The pumpkin with the highest points wins. I don’t have to beat them all, just Graham’s. I walk around with Patrick’s oldest niece, and we evaluate each one like we were viewing art at the Met. I’m aware of people laughing when they vote on Graham’s.

  Stopping in front of Graham’s, I roll my eyes.

  “What? There were no rules about what I could carve,” he says.

  “I give this a ten,” Jackson’s niece says.

  “No. We don’t want Graham to win.”

  “But I think it would be fun for you to do that.”

  “Erase the zero.”

  She slaps my hand away.

  “No Emme. It will be fun.” She moves on without me.

  Jules and Becca walk up to me. “What do you get if you win?”

  “He has to call me master and be my sex slave for the weekend.”

  “That’s been done,” Joy says coming to a stop behind us. She reads Graham’s pumpkin. It has only words carved into it: “If you vote for my pumpkin, Emelia has to jump out of a plane.”

  “I give his a ten,” she says.

  “Why? You are supposed to be team Emme.”

  “We’re team anyone who takes you out of your comfort zone,” Becca says, also writing a ten.

  “Traitor.” I tell them and move to the guys to convince them why I should win. My attempts are futile, and Graham easily takes the victory. I bury my dismay in cake and ice cream.

  “Whoever is staying at our place is welcome to come whenever you like. Emelia and I have a few things to do, but we’ll meet everyone back here for dinner,” he says taking my hand.

  “I almost forgot. Dad!” I motion for Harry to come over. “Come see what Graham got me for my birthday.”

  I drag him through the garage to the front of the house. I tell him stories from mine and Addie’s time living in Scout. Where his bumps and bruises came from. I show him the scratch Addie made when she was looking at a boy instead of where she was going.

  “Hop in.” Starting up Scout, I take Harry for a drive on the property, just the two of us before we come back to the house. I see Smith standing to the side when I park, so I make a beeline for him and wrap my arms around his waist, forcing him to reciprocate my hug.

  “Thank you, Smith. I know you worked hard for me to have this.”

  “It was my pleasure, Emme.”

  “Emelia,” Graham says. “Time to go.”

  “I’ll drive you over,” Smith says. We are leaving Scout here for people to have fun driving.

  “Why are we leaving?” I ask

  “Because you’ve forgotten,” he says. Playful Graham nowhere to be found.

  Smith drops us at the door and Graham practically drags me up the stairs to our inside bedroom.

  “Strip,” he says, crossing his arms.

  “Why?”

  He takes a step closer to me. “If I have to ask you again, I’ll punish you even more.”

  I’m barely naked before he has me against the wall, my arms above me. His hips pressed against mine as he barrages me with his desire.

  “I’m all for playing, Emelia. But the idea that you think if you win that I will let you be master and concede control to you tells me I’ve been too lenient with you. It’s obvious you need a reminder, and I plan to give you one.” He releases an expletive when his fingers enter me and he finds me almost dripping for him. I like CEO Graham in the bedroom and he knows it. He continues to finger fuck me to the point of orgasm sticking them in my mouth when he’s done.

  “Clean,” he says as I lick. He pops me on the ass when I position his leg between my thighs and start grinding against him.

  Stepping back, he crosses his arms again and looks at me. His pants are tenting from his restrained erection.

  “Top drawer.” He nods towards the dresser. “Open it,” he says. “What’s that?” he asks when I start walking towards the dresser. I’m so sexed up that it takes me a minute to realize what he is expecting.

  “Yes, sir,” I say before opening the drawer.

  “Choose your punishment.” He rolls up his sleeves as I stand there apprehensively. We haven’t pushed these boundaries before. These are going to hurt, I think, not sure what to do.

  “Emelia, I’ll not ask you again. If you don’t choose, I will.”

  I remember liking him paddling me, so I choose a wide-planked one that has a handle and hand it to him.

  “Why are we here, Emelia?”

  “Because you think I need a reminder.”

  “Of?” he asks, twirling the paddle in his hand.

  “Who’s really in control.” I raise my chin boldly to show him I’m not afraid.

  “I don’t want you to be afraid. Why are you pushing? Same conversation. Control. I can see this is something that you are going to need to be reminded of often. Lay on your stomach on the bed.”

  I comply, lifting my hips when he pushes two pillows under my pelvis.

  “Turn your head,” he says, making sure I can see the paddle. He places it on the bed in my line of sight before leaving the room. My mind goes through all the possibilities, and by the time he re-enters, I’m almost to the point of orgasm without even a single touch.

  “Did you touch yourself?” he asks, picking up the paddle.

  “No, sir.”

  “Did you want to?’ He moves to the other side of the bed.

  “No, sir. I wanted to wait for you.”

  “Good girl.” He runs his hand over my ass. “Your honesty will afford you some relief. If this is too much, you simply say no and I’ll stop. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now, Emelia. I know we were playing, but we are here to remind you that I will always be in charge.” The paddle comes in contact with my ass and I push my hips into the pillows to relieve some of the bite. He gives me four more strategically placed swats before he turns me on my back, his mouth instantly covering my sex. I wrap my legs over his shoulders. I’m easy prey at this point, and his tongue makes quick work on my overcharged sex. I try to bring my breathing under control as he crawls up and kisses me. The fact that he’s remained dressed, turns me on even more.

  “Happy birthday, baby. The others are here. Don’t shower. I like knowing you’re wet. Drinks then dinner.” He helps me into the bathroom where he rubs lotion on me before helping me into a pair of leggings. Leaving my bra off, he slides his sweater over me, causing my breath to catch as the prickly material rubs over my sensitized nipples. I rub his hardened shaft through his pants and he shakes his head.

  “You are so thickheaded. Didn’t you learn anything just now?”

  “I learned you’re in charge. Doesn’t mean I’m going to make it easy for you.”

  “Does it mean you now know not to ever suggest that I would give up dominance?”

  “I’ll let you in on a little secret. A gift for you on my birthday.” I lean forward and whisper in his ear. “I don’t want it, but I do enjoy making you work for it.”

  Dinner is delicious. We laugh and enjoy each other’s company, eating on the same tables we had our pumpkin contest on. While we were gone, someone arranged the pumpkins on the stairs and each one is lit, showcasing the talent—and lack thereof—of our pumpkin carving abilities.

  “S’mores on the beach,” Ruth announces. “Beach blankets by the steps.” Patrick’s girls run around giggling and eating more chocolate and marshmallows than I’m sure they should. Their sing-songy laughter along with the cool
breeze, low tide, and lazy waves make for an idyllic evening.

  “Everything okay?” I ask Graham. I notice he’s looked at his watch a few times.

  “More than.” He pulls me closer to him, running his thumb over my nipple under the blanket. “Happy Birthday, Emelia. This is for you.” As if on cue, I see a flare shoot into the sky before it explodes into a myriad of colors. One behind the other. Fireworks.

  “You got me fireworks?” I turn excitedly towards him. “For my birthday?” I’m awed.

  “For my wife’s birthday.”

  The music playing over the speakers is timed with the show and while we watch, Graham finger fucks me in time with the music. The show lasts about thirty minutes before the grand finale bursts out over us.

  “You have permission,” Graham whispers in my ear, leaning down when I raise my lips to his.

  “Thank you, master,” I say cheekily. As my orgasm mimics that finale, Graham’s mouth covers mine anticipating the moan about to escape from me.

  I rest against him for a minute, then tense when I realize that I had no thought about all the people around us.

  “No one saw,” Graham says, reading the changes in my body before I relax back against him.

  For the first time since we arrived, I wish it was just me and Graham.

  “Can we go?” I ask him. “I want to be with just you.”

  “I think Emelia and I will be heading home,” Graham says to our guests, helping me into a standing position.

  We walk through the sand to our beach house, hand-in-hand. I rest my head on his shoulders and say, “This was the best birthday ever. I can’t believe you gave me fireworks. I mean, who does that?” I giggle and wrap my arms around his waist. “Did you know the cello I played yesterday, is probably worth a few million dollars? It’s probably been played by only a couple of people. Then you brought Scout back to me.” I pull him to a stop. “How could I not want you to be in control Graham? You gave me back my music. My heart. I like to push you because it’s fun, but you really are the master of my heart.” I submit myself wholeheartedly to him, knowing he will never abuse it.