Crazy In Love (South Bay Soundtracks)

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Crazy In Love (South Bay Soundtracks) Page 8

by Amelia Stone


  “You’re going to do great things, Taylor. You’re smart, and ambitious, and driven. You’re going to make lip gloss that will change the world.”

  Despite myself, the corners of my mouth twitched, and I had to bite the inside of my lip to keep from smiling. I had to be Take No Prisoners Taylor right now.

  “Yes, I will,” I agreed, because I really did believe in my dream with everything I had.

  “But you can’t do that while you’re making coffee for me.”

  “I do more than make your coffee, thank you,” I snipped.

  “I know. My office and my schedule are better organized than I ever could have imagined. And you even do it at home. You fold my laundry and record Top Gear and make sure my favorite beer is always in the fridge.”

  I nodded, because I deserved all this praise. “I know this.”

  “But Taylor, you can’t change the world while you’re running mine.” He stepped forward, placing his hands on my shoulders, and I shivered, just like I knew I would. “I’m firing you so you can go back to school and pursue your dream.”

  Well, that was it. He finally saw me, all of me. And he not only respected me and the things that were important to me; he supported me, too.

  But there was one small catch.

  “I don’t have enough saved,” I admitted. “I have a year and a half left on my undergrad program, and I’m still a little short. And if I decide to go to graduate school, that more than doubles the amount I’d need. Syracuse is a private school. It’s expensive.” It was also upstate, farther away from Julian than I would really want. But I didn’t want to think about that right then.

  “I thought of that,” he said slowly. “And I know you don’t want my money. But I love you.” He smoothed my hair back from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “What’s mine is yours. And I want to help you achieve all the amazing things I know you can achieve. I want to help you go back to Syracuse, or, you know, something closer to home, since lots of schools have good chemistry programs.” He gave me a pointed look, but I was too distracted to think about his suggestion right now.

  I blinked back tears. “Say that again.”

  “Which part?” He grinned, telling me he knew the answer already.

  I smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “Stop being a tease.”

  He cupped my face in his hands. “I love you, Taylor Zofia Kusmierski.”

  I raised a brow at his use of my full name. “Oh, so you did read my file, huh?”

  He grinned. “Yeah. I just thought that little frown line right-” he pressed his thumb between my eyes- “here was adorable. You get so mad when you think I’m not paying attention to you.”

  I leaned forward. “I do not have any frown lines.” I nipped his lower lip. “Adorable or otherwise.”

  “You do. And they’re as perfect as the rest of you,” he murmured, just before he covered my mouth with his.

  His kisses were addictive. I already knew this. But this one felt like so much more than the ones before it. This was one I wanted to taste again and again, because it was the first kiss that made his intentions clear. He was going to care for me, to worship me, to love me, forever.

  And I would do the same, because as much as I needed him to understand me, I understood him, too. I knew he loved his family, and he was a little bit too jealous, and he could piss me off without even trying. I knew he was messy and careless and he sometimes said the wrong thing. I knew I would have an uphill battle convincing him to trim the hobo beard.

  But I also knew he was mine, and I was his.

  I broke the kiss reluctantly. But his hands were creeping up my hips, and I knew where he was going with this.

  “Take me home,” I told him. “Because if you think my first time will be in a hallway of a winery, with a thousand of our co-workers just steps away, you are crazy.”

  He grinned. “Babe, if this is crazy, I don’t want to be sane.”

  He was half-naked before we even got into the house.

  Julian – we – lived in a surprisingly modest bungalow in Oyster Bay. I’d expected him to live in a bigger, grander place, considering his net worth. I’d expected that he couldn’t take off his tie and jacket and unbutton his shirt while driving home, but I was wrong about that, too. I’d learned early on that Julian was never what I expected. And it drove me bonkers, in the best way.

  As soon as we reached the foyer, he pressed me back against the door, kissing the stuffing out of me. My blood heated up and my head spun and I was just about ready to fuck him right there against the door.

  Instead, I pushed him back. “Julian, take me to bed.”

  He grinned, grabbing my hand and pulling me down the hall to his bedroom in the back. “Gladly.”

  “Also, before we get too caught up in the heat of the moment, I want you to know that I’m on the pill. And I’ve been taking it for years, so we don’t have to wait for it to take effect.”

  He froze, turning slowly to face me, and to my surprise, he was frowning. “Taylor, you should always insist on a condom for your first time with someone. It’s not just about pregnancy.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m a virgin, not an idiot, Julian. I took sex ed in middle school. And twice in high school. I know about STIs. I also know you don’t have any, since I manage your email. I know you got tested last month.” I smacked him on his shoulder. “And don’t you dare talk about future partners. This is a big deal for me, you know. Once we do this, you’ll be stuck with me.” I bit my lip. “Just so you know. You can back out now, if you want.”

  He growled, sweeping me up and kissing me roughly. “No fucking way. You are mine.” He frowned. “But you don’t know that I’m any good. You could want to go off in search of greener pastures.”

  I smiled at his choice of words. “Maybe you’ll want to go and find greener pastures.”

  “Babe. I can promise, you are the greenest pastures around.”

  Time seemed to slow, and a warmth filled my chest, spreading through my limbs and making me feel dizzy. Tears pooled in my eyes as

  “I love you, Julian Hillary Morgan.”

  He groaned. “I want you to say that all the time,” he rumbled. “But not with my middle name. Just forget you ever knew that.”

  I laughed. “Deal. But I’m still calling you by your first name.”

  He smiled. “Okay. But can we P in V now?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “That did not sound right.”

  His hands snaked around my hips, gripping my ass and lifting me. I shrieked in surprise, wrapping my legs around his waist and holding on for dear life as he ran down the hall to his room.

  “I am too tall for this.” I cried out again when he dropped me on the king-size bed I’d made for him too many times to count. “Or you’re not tall enough.”

  “We’re good,” he assured me. “See?” He pushed me back onto the bed, sliding his body over mine. “We fit just fine.”

  My legs parted to make room for him, and he grinned as his erection rubbed against my center. I attempted to reply, but it came out like a grunt, because his hips were slowly undulating, creating a frustrating friction. It just wasn’t enough.

  “Ungh. Get naked already.”

  He chuckled as he raised himself onto his knees, shucking his unbuttoned shirt.

  My eyebrows flew up. “Are you hairy everywhere?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Are you complaining?”

  I grinned. “No.” No, I was certainly not. He was covered in hair, yes, but it wasn’t off-putting. It was weirdly appealing, like a manly buffet of flesh. He was beefy, but not fat. Toned, but not gym-toned. Hairy, but not too furry. And he was all mine.

  I watched as he unbuttoned his pants, slowly pulling them down to carefully free his erection. I’d seen this part of him once, but I hadn’t really gotten a good look. His penis was kind of like the rest of him – thick, with a vein running up the underside and pink, freckled skin. My panties flooded in anticipation of having all of that i
nside me.

  And though I was in fact a virgin, honestly, I wasn’t too scared. Despite Sister Mary Agnes’s admonitions on the evils of masturbation, I owned a dildo, and I had made good use of practicing with it over the years. So I was as ready for him as I’d ever be.

  And eager, too. I wanted to touch him, to feel him in my hand. I reached for him, running the tip of my nail all around the head, where I knew he’d be the most sensitive. And it must have worked, because his head tipped back, and he let out a groan that went straight to my core.

  “Okay,” he grumbled, pushing my hand away. “That’s enough of that.”

  He stood, kicking his pants off and bending to shed his socks. But he didn’t waste any time letting me ogle him, since he was back on the bed a moment later, his hands skating up my thighs and pushing my dress up. I was ready to be naked, too, so I reached behind my back, unzipping my dress so he could pull it up and over my head. That left me in nothing but my panties.

  He groaned at the sight. “You weren’t wearing a bra all night?”

  I shook my head, grinning at him. “It was built into the dress.”

  He dived forward, his mouth landing on mine in a hungry kiss. Then his hands were everywhere, touching and teasing and squeezing and oh my God I was going to die. Was it actually possible to die of ecstasy? Because I was going to, any second now.

  “Need you so bad, babe,” he murmured, his lips moving, searching, like the secrets of the universe were written in my skin.

  I plunged my fingers into his hair. I loved his hair. It was messy and badly needed a cut, but it was also soft and smelled like peppermint and felt amazing under my hands.

  “Need you, too,” I whispered.

  “You are so beautiful.”

  I sighed contentedly, because though I’d heard that many times before, it hadn’t ever meant as much as it did right now, coming from his lips. He was the first man to see all of me – not just my body, but my heart. And he thought I was beautiful, just as I was.

  “Gonna make this so good for you,” he said, his lips trailing down my stomach.

  “Yes,” I breathed, my hips shifting as though seeking him. He’d done this a few times before, and I loved it every time. It made me feel like a goddess, like he was worshipping at my temple.

  “Love this pussy.”

  I huffed out a laugh. Somehow, that word sounded… well, not so bad when he said it like that, with so much reverence, like it was some sacred place. But I couldn’t think about it for too long because oh, his tongue was right there. He buttered me up with a few licks, then went right to my clit, nibbling gently, just how I liked it.

  “Yes,” I chanted, my fingers tangling in his hair again. His tongue was working its magic, his hands were massaging my breasts, and that damn beard was tickling my thighs. And already, I was close.

  He hummed, his fingers trailing down my tummy to where his face was, slicking through my folds until they were coated with me. Then he pushed two of them into me. In, out, back in, stretching and scissoring until I felt so full I could burst. The pressure on my clit was relentless, and his other hand rolled and pinched my nipples like it was his job. This man knew every inch of me, what I liked and didn’t. He’d taken the time to learn what felt good for me, because he loved me.

  And that was enough to push me over the edge. My thighs clenched around his head, my hips bucking wildly as I came all over that stupid hobo beard.

  Before the tremors even stopped, he was crawling up my body, pressing his lips to my fevered skin as he went. “Love it when you lose control for me.”

  I smiled. “You make me crazy,” I said, running my fingertips across his cheek. I loved his face. I loved it when he was scowling at me, I loved it when he was grinning at me, and I loved it when he was looking at me the way he was now, like I hung the moon.

  “We can be crazy together,” he murmured, pressing me down into the mattress as he kissed me with his tongue that was coated with me.

  “Julian,” I whispered when his lips moved down to my jaw.

  “Yes, Taylor?”

  “I need you,” I whimpered, wrapping my legs around him.

  He moaned, and I had never in my life heard anything so sexy. “Need you, too.” He propped himself up on an elbow, looking down at me as his other hand snaked between us, gripping his erection. Then he lined himself up with my opening. “Ready?”

  I nodded, and his lips met mine once more as he pushed himself inside me, going slowly to let me adjust to him.

  “Fuck,” he groaned. “Feels so good.”

  I made an unladylike noise in the back of my throat, unable to speak. It was just as well. “Good” was too inadequate a word for how this felt right now. It burned a little, but in the best way, a way that said I was stretched out, deliciously, achingly full. Of Julian. The man I loved was inside me.

  Slowly, he began to move, shallow little strokes that felt like he was just testing the waters. But I was ready to drown with him.

  “More,” I breathed, gripping his shoulders and pulling him closer. “Need more. Need you.”

  “Yes,” he growled, his hips rolling faster and faster, hurtling me toward another orgasm so fast my eyes rolled back into my head. “Come on babe. Can’t hold out any more. Come with me.”

  I moaned. “God, yes.” His hips pumped erratically, breathing raggedly, and I clenched around him, knowing I’d done that. He was coming because of me. And I followed right after him.

  When we’d both stopped trembling, he collapsed next to me, breathing hard. “Jesus.”

  I nodded, wondering what happened now. This was my first post-coital experience, and I wasn’t sure what the protocol was. I wanted to cuddle, but maybe he was more the fall asleep type.

  I needn’t have worried, though. He popped one eye open, reaching out for me. “Come here.”

  I moved lightning fast, snuggling into his arms and letting his strong body cocoon me. “That was pretty great,” I ventured.

  “The best.”

  He pressed soft kisses to my shoulder, and I sighed, feeling totally relaxed. I was just blissed out, laying here with him in his bed – our bed. No more guest room for me.

  But apparently he wasn’t totally relaxed. Sooner than I thought possible, his erection pressed against my hips, and I turned my head, staring at him in shock.

  “Already?” I asked.

  He grinned. “Crazy, huh?”

  I laughed. Yes, it was completely crazy. But as I climbed on top of him, I knew I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “Babe! You ready to go?”

  Julian’s shout came from inside the bathroom, where he was doing his post-shower grooming ritual. For someone who walked around looking like a vagrant, he took a surprisingly long time getting ready in the mornings.

  “Taylor!”

  I huffed, glaring at the contents of my closet. What the heck was I supposed to wear?

  “No!” I shouted back. “I have nothing to wear.”

  I heard grumbling, and a moment later, I felt him behind me. “You have all the things to wear.”

  I shook my head. I did not, in fact, have all the things. He may have been made of money, but I certainly wasn’t.

  “I have no idea where we’re going or what we’re doing,” I replied. “So no, I do not have anything to wear.”

  He chuckled, his lips ghosting against my bare shoulder. I could feel his erection pressing against my backside, our bare skins separated only by the towel tied to his waist. I suppressed a grin, because I was still annoyed with him.

  “Our destination is a surprise, and so are our activities.”

  “Is there walking involved? Are we going to be shopping? I need comfortable-but-still-stylish shoes if we’re shopping. And are we eating? If I’m going to have a burger, I’ll need to wear stretchy jeans or leggings.” I huffed again. “You can’t tell a fashion-obsessed woman to get ready and not tell her what to get ready for, Julian.”

  His laughter rumbled
against my back, and I stiffened. The jerk laughed. At me. Un-freaking-acceptable. “Tell you what,” he said. “Wear stretchy jeans, stylish-yet-comfortable shoes, and a top that shows off your tits.” He turned me to face him. “And a jacket, since it might get windy.”

  But I couldn’t answer him, because the sight before me stole my train of thought.

  “You trimmed the beard!” He’d cut off the hair that used to hang below his chin, cleaned up the edges, and shaved his neck. He’d finally groomed it, like I’d been asking him to do for two long months. The hobo was gone.

  He grinned, and oh! His lips. I could actually see them! He had full, pink, pillowy lips, and I was so excited to finally get an uninterrupted view of them that I immediately leaned forward to kiss them. My fingers tangled in his hair, and he pushed me back against the closet wall.

  “You like?” he growled, nipping my lower lip.

  I nodded, my fingers skimming down his chest to the towel. With a quick flick of my nails, the terry cloth dropped to the floor. “Do we have time before we leave on our mysterious outing?” I asked, my hand closing around shaft.

  He groaned, his fingers digging into my ass as he lifted me over him.

  “We always have time,” he replied as he slid inside me.

  An hour later, I was standing in the garage, watching as he carefully folded a tarp up and placed it on the shelf.

  I took a deep breath, breaking the silence reluctantly.

  “Your father’s motorcycle?” I knew how much this machine meant to him. I knew everything about him. As the woman who loved him, it was my job.

  He nodded. “Seems silly to let all our hard work go to waste, you know?” He ran his fingers over the padded leather seat. “He’d want me to enjoy it. We worked on it for me to use.”

  I nodded, taking his hand in mine and squeezing gently. “I agree. I know your dad loved you. He’d want you to do the things you love.”

 

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