Page 47 of Revive

“Why not?” I ask rhetorically. “You can get the whole Hendrix Michaels experience.”

“Let me do it, it’s only fair.”

She sets up her cute little four-seat dining table. Two plates, two cups, cutlery, and maple syrup. It’s unexpectedly domestic. I pick up the small stainless steel sieve and dust the icing sugar over the stack of pancakes.

Taking myself and the plate to the table, I catch Taylah looking at me with fascination. Being the centre of her attention reminds me of the way I had all her focus when she walked into the restaurant earlier. It’s such a heady feeling to have someone look at you, and see something they like. Something they want.

“God, I love breakfast food.” She drowns the pancakes with maple syrup, cutting her stack of four into equal quarters.

“You do this often?”

“It’s my favourite thing about living on my own.”

“Eating pancakes at night?”

“More so eating breakfast food anytime I want.” She rises off her seat, ever so slightly, reaching to the middle of the table to pour us both a glass of juice. “Then there’s being able to have a television in my room, and being able to eat in said room.”

“You had a lot of rules growing up?”

“My mum was such a clean freak. You couldn’t even sneeze without her freaking out that something was out of place. As soon as I could afford moving out, I was done.” Stopping to take a sip of her juice, she gracefully manages to eat, drink, and talk at the same time. “Don’t get me wrong, I know having a clean house and a clean mum is a first world problem, but it’s so fucking liberating not to have a woman follow you with a vacuum at all times of the day.”

“Makes sense,” I say, my mind visualising a younger Taylah feeling irate at her mother’s requests. “I remember feeling something similar after moving out of my mum’s place.”

“Any rules you were happy to break once you left. Something that doesn’t make me sound like the only deranged one in the room.”

I finish off the pancakes before answering. Stalling. Giving myself a bit of time before taking a visit down memory lane. “My mum didn’t care about much, to be honest. She only had two rules. One for Jagger and one for me.”

“What were they?” Her voice is cautious as she asks the question, and I wonder if I made it too obvious that I didn’t really want to go down this road.

“Jagger’s was, don’t be like your dad, and mine was…”

“Don’t be like your dad,” she finishes for me. “What was he like?”

“Absent.”

“Safe to say you’re a good son then, and didn’t break her rules.”

“I guess that’s one way to look at it.” My plate finished, I push it forward and lean back on the chair. “Tell me more rules you broke when you got your own place.”

The change in conversation doesn’t go unnoticed, but she accepts it anyway. “There’s only one more, and it’s my personal favourite.” Loosening the knot holding her gown together, the swell of her breasts become visible. “No clothes.”

My eyes zero in on her tits, while my cock twitches at the possibilities. “How about you explain the no clothes part to me.”

Seductively, she licks the syrup off each finger, then opens the rest of her gown. “How about I just show you?”

14

Taylah

He’s around the table, hands on my body, lips on mine, all before the satin even hits the floor. “You know what else is great about living alone,” he murmurs. “We can do this anywhere.”

Sucking on my bottom lip, he grips my arse. Lifting me up, he wraps my legs around him and carries me to the nearest kitchen counter. He rests me on the edge, and sticky, maple kisses make their way down my neck. I lean back on my elbows as he bypasses my collarbone, licking each nipple before kissing down the valley of my breasts and beelining for his destination.

The second he reaches the top of my slit, my lungs constrict in anticipation. He changes direction, his mouth teasing me everywhere but where I need him most.

Hands push my thighs farther apart, opening me up, preparing me for him. A swipe of his tongue has me jolting out of my skin, followed by delicious circles around my clit, he becomes the king of teasing, and taunting. He dips his tongue in and out of me; slow and sensual torture.

“You taste like us.” Low and gravelly, the sound of his voice against my pussy, and the thought ofushaving a taste sends a rush of hot need through my body and straight to my core.

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