Page 63 of Call Me Mrs. Taylor

She inhales sharply, her body tensing before melting again.

“That’s it,” I murmur against her. “You’re doing so good for me, baby.”

She whimpers, scratching my scalp with her fingernails.

She’s trying hard to hold back, to keep some semblance of control, but I can feel it slipping.

“You like that?” I say.

“Yeah.”

I whisper to her between kisses, telling her how perfect she tastes, how good she feels, how much I love making her feel good. She moans her answers. Her hips start to lift. She presses into my mouth, needing more.

I give it to her.

Two fingers slide in easily, exploring her depths while my tongue worships her clit. With my other hand, I slide my way up her stomach until I find her nipple, rolling it gently between my fingertips.

She gives up.

Her legs tighten around my head, squeezing and squeezing until the inevitable pop. Her thighs fall away, a cry ripping from her lips. I keep my mouth on her, working her through it, whispering my praise.

When she’s done, she sinks into the bed. I lean up and join her, hovering over her with my weight on my elbows.

“You okay?” I ask softly.

She nods, her lips parting like she has something to say. But she says nothing.

I don’t push.

I just gather her into my arms and roll her onto her side, holding her against me until she falls asleep.

Whatever it is, she’s not telling me tonight, but it’s all good.

She’ll let me in eventually.

19

Ace

“Do you want kids?”

I was laid out, chillin’, halfway to a nod, when Raya disturbed my fucking peace.

I rented us a cabana. Canopy. Ceiling fan. Plush furniture. Bluetooth speakers. Butler service. I wanted to spoil her a little bit on this trip. Seemed like she needed it. Shit was feeling like paradise, and then she opened her mouth.

I take off my sunglasses, shifting to look at her. “Where did that come from?”

She shrugs, and it lowkey pisses me off.

It’s not a benign question. It actually feels like she punched me in the stomach. I know it’s not rational to be mad at her over it, but feelings aren’t rational sometimes.

I sit up, running a hand over my face. The sun is high and bright, making the sand look a blinding white. That’s all I see in front of me, blue and white. It’s beautiful, but I can’t even enjoy it. My chest is tight. My body is stiff.

“You trying to tell me something?” I say.

She frowns, then laughs. “No, silly. I’m just curious. Can’t a woman be curious?”

I stare down at her, all laid out next to me in a pink bikini. “I’m curious as to why you’re curious about that.”

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