Page 151 of Call Me Mrs. Taylor

She says it decisively, like she knows me better than I know myself. But for the first time in my life, I don’t think she does.

“We ain’t gon’ see eye to eye on this, so let’s just drop it.”

“Yes. Let’s.Goodbye.”

It feels loud when the line goes dead, but it’s probably just my state of mind.

Part of me is pissed, but the other part of me is relieved.

42

Raya

The moment I step inside Ace’s place, the scent of roses surrounds me, assaulting my nose with their saccharine aroma. I don’t care much for flowers, but I like what they represent. Judging by all the bouquets spilling across the kitchen table and the countertops, Ace definitely had something important to say.

I look around, hiding my smile as Ace walks down the hallway. “What’s all this?”

He leans against the island, watching me with something soft in his eyes. “It’s an apology.”

“For what?” I ask, even though I already know.

“My mother,” he says. “She was outta pocket.”

I look down, swallowing the smug grin threatening to spread across my face. I don’t know what happened or if he talked to her, but he obviously chose me over her.

Bitch, I did it.

But before I internally celebrate, I lift my head and meet his gaze. Something in me wavers when I see how…guttedhe looks. He must be struggling with this.

Sometimes I forget lots of people actually love their mothers.

“You don’t have to apologize for her,” I say softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He rounds the island to come to me, slipping his fingers beneath my chin, tipping my head back. “I’m still sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

I lick my lips. “What do I deserve, Ace?”

His lips crash into mine. The kiss is deep and consuming, his tongue stroking mine, his hands gripping my waist, pulling me in like he hates the few inches of distance between us.

He’s panting when he breaks the kiss to tell me, “Come on.”

I let him pull me by the wrist, past the flowers, past the apology, past the nagging ache in my chest I don’t have a name for.

The second the bedroom door shuts behind us, Ace lifts me off my feet. I wrap my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, and he carries me over to the bed like I weigh nothing.

“I love you,” he murmurs as he lays me down, pressing slow kisses to my throat and down my collarbone. He undresses me quickly, then himself, finally settling between my legs.

He cups my breasts, thumbs circling my nipples. The way he touches me—something about it feels different. The way his hands map my body like he’s memorizing me. The way he’s looking at me; he looks like he adores me. When he finally slides inside me, it’s slow and deep andenlightening.

I don’t feel like I’m being used.

Mind you, I like when Ace uses me. Sometimes a man just needs to get off, and I like to be the one who gets him there, by any means necessary. But I like this, too. It doesn’t feel as familiar, but I feel…whole.

His forehead presses against mine. Our bodies are locked so close, I can feel his heartbeat in my bones. He holds me like I’ll disappear outside of his grip. His lips dot sweet kisses on every part of me he can reach.

I know we’ve both said it, but I feel it now.Love. It’s a scary fucking thing to feel it like this. I would literally die for it. He doesn’t know that yet, what he just unleashed, but he will, and I hope he enjoys the full magnitude of my commitment to loving him the way we both deserve.

I cum first, of course, because he loves me, and then he follows behind me. After, he big spoons me, draping his arm over my waist, making sure he’s still touching me. Because I’m his. I feel content like this. Like I finally have what I always wanted.

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