All I Am: Drew's Story

by Jodi Ellen Malpas

  It wasn’t something I could help. “And why didn’t you want any of those things, Raya?”

  She shakes her head, her eyes dull, and I want to roar my frustration. And suddenly scared that my question might erase the shine of her gaze completely, I push my mouth to hers. It’s time for her to forget again, and for now I’m prepared to help her. Just for now, but I make a silent oath to myself. I will find out what this woman’s story is, if it’s the last thing I do.

  As soon as our tongues meet, my mind is lost. Reason is lost. Everything is lost. All of it blown away in a breeze of this woman’s breath. She’s crawling up my body in a heartbeat, her hands in my hair, fisting and pulling impatiently. My feet lead me to the bed, urgency blinding me, need pulsing through my veins. I can see nothing, feel nothing, sense nothing, except her. Rules vanish. Sense abandons me. Questions vanish. Craving controls me. And Raya is with me one hundred percent.

  I kiss her like I mean it. I relish the contact of our mouths and find a new kind of passion. A passion that’s not part of the process of getting laid, but part of a burning need I’ve never experienced. To be close to a woman. The deep connection of our mouths, the amazing taste of her, the duel of our tongues—soft and slow, but still battling. This kiss is everything.

  My hands fight to get her naked while she reciprocates, our hands and arms getting all tangled up in the urgency to get our clothes off. She tries to lift my shirt over my head without unfastening all of the buttons, and my head gets all caught up in the material. “Fuck,” I curse, yanking at the sides, the buttons popping off.

  I take a breath to find some reason, to find the patience to get naked without trashing my entire suit. But there is no reason.

  Raya laughs as I tear my trousers open and she virtually rips them down my legs, taking my boxers, socks and shoes with them. And once we’re both bare, she reaches for my cock, the pad of her thumb massaging over the silver ring pierced through the head. I swallow repeatedly, pushing her back down to the bed. Her body landing on the mattress makes her scent waft up from the bedding, hitting my nose and heightening my senses.

  Her legs spread, and I fall between her thighs, taking her mouth. The tip of my cock skims her entrance, and the sensation sends me crazy, my kiss hardening. With a quick shift of my hips, I’m inside her, ramming forward with urgency.

  “Fuck,” I bark into her mouth, growling through my moan, falling to pieces above her when her hips roll up and take me completely.

  I’m forced to take a moment, my body stilling, but my tongue continues to explore. Raya’s long legs curl around my hips, and she breaks our kiss, arching and throwing her head back. My mouth slides down to her neck, biting and sucking, desperate for more of her. I’m so snug inside of her that even the slightest of movements feels so sensitive as her busy hands roam my back. This. This feels like something in me has been missing for too long.

  As I circle my tongue over her throat, I brace myself for the first stroke, easing my cock from her warmth. Raya’s moan forces me away from her neck, her arms tossed back on the pillow searching for something to hold. Reaching up, I lay my hands in hers and let her grip me with an unthinkable force, her fingers laced through mine. Glazed eyes watch me as I hold myself at her opening, fighting the magnetic pull trying to haul me back inside.

  She’s panting, her flawless skin glowing, her eyes kicking off sparks. “How did this happen?”

  How? She bewitches me, that’s how. “Stop questioning it.” I sink back into her pussy, blind drunk on her, and she jacks up off the bed, her hands squeezing mine firmer still. One grind of my hips has her moaning. Two has her shaking. Three has her screaming to the ceiling.

  Sealing our mouths, I allow my body’s demand to take over. And it wants to flow easily in and out of her, each withdrawal measured, each advance accurate. Each moan deafening. Each kiss mind-blanking.

  What is this madness? Every stroke is painful in its intensity, but it hurts so fucking good. Eyes open, I kiss her softly, matching my painstaking pace, watching her climax building in the darkening of her eyes. I don’t need to ask if she’s ready. There are too many signs—her tensing muscles, those eyes so wild, her skin wet with sweat, the force of her hands in mine, the pull of her warm, slick pussy hauling me in deeper and deeper.

  I stare down at her dazed face, keeping the rhythm consistent, unwilling to lose the incredible sight of her release. “Come,” I order, and she does, her face contorting with pleasure as she yells, her body shaking against me violently.

  The vision alone drags me into the depths of indulgence like I’ve never experienced before in my life, my body rolling, my cock surging, my jaw aching with tension as I fight my way through it. I gasp, my head hanging as the room spins around me, distorting everything.

  Everything except her face. She’s struggling for breath, staring up at me in wonder. “I’m not looking for a relationship.” Her words are solid, if a little from left field.

  I nod, accepting. “Neither am I.”

  She smiles, and the sight is dizzying. “So, Mr. Davies, how much is my house worth?”

  “I haven’t got a fucking clue,” I admit. I took nothing in. Only her.

  She laughs, her head thrown back. Her move offers up a neck that no man could ignore. My mouth drops and kisses the taut flesh, all the way up to her chin, and her hands come around to my back, pulling me down. She sustains my weight, and as soon as I’m settled, my mind spirals out of control trying to process what the hell just happened. Truth is, I haven’t got a fucking clue about that either. An instinct I never knew I had just captured me completely and took me way off course, and I’m at a loss for what that means. I was compelled to be soft. Gentle. Loving?

  I suddenly feel suffocated rather than cozy with my face burrowed against her neck. Did I just make love to a woman? The question should have me jumping off the bed in a panic, yet I can’t bring myself to lose the warmth of her body against mine. Even the simple task of pulling away takes too much willpower.

  She looks up at me, worried. “You all right?”

  “Yeah.” I smile a little in an instinctive attempt to ease her. And maybe myself, too. I think I just made love to a woman. I don’t make love to women. I don’t gaze into their eyes. I don’t sink my nose into their skin and try to store their scent. Shit, this is getting scarier by the minute, and though I have the sense to halt it all, that sense is being buried by something stronger. More powerful. Her.

  On a deep inhale, I start the challenging task of getting up, retrieving my trousers from the floor and pulling them on. I look down at my shirt when my fingers slip over the material, searching for the buttons. No buttons.

  I shrug on the ruined shirt anyway, then find Raya’s already completely dressed and retying her hair. Just seeing her doing something so simple makes my knees wobble.

  “I didn’t use a condom.” Never, not ever, have I taken a woman without protection.

  “I’m on the pill. And I’m clean, if that’s your next question.”

  “It wasn’t, actually,” I admit. My head is full, but with all the wrong shit. “I was thinking how amazing it felt.”

  Her smile is almost shy, and I wonder if she realizes what’s just happened. “Quite a contrast to last night.”

  I laugh under my breath. She has no idea. “I’m going to have another quick look around,” I tell her, backing away. “Probably best I go on my own.” She grins, and I struggle to hold back my own. “Meet you in the kitchen?”

  “Sure.” Raya bites her lip, yet I know it’s not purposely seductive. She doesn’t need to try. She is just effortlessly sexy, and that’s just one of the things I find so attractive about her. As well as her brutal beauty and the fact that she’s found feelings in me that I never knew existed.

  I groan under my breath and force myself out of her room, rubbing circles into my temples as I go. I feel so stressed. Blindsided. Because I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed sex so much in my life. Simple, straightforward se
x, no added kink. I didn’t even know I had it in me.

  I spend a good half hour doing what I actually came here to do. But my mind is constantly in her bedroom with her beneath me. Looking, feeling, touching, consuming.

  When I get back to the kitchen, Raya’s flicking through a magazine with a cup of tea in her hand. Such a simple thing, but so fucking sexy. She smiles and sets her mug down, pushing the magazine away. “Well?”

  “It’s amazing, Raya. Most of the others on this row have been converted into apartments in recent years. This is one of only two left that are still in their original state. It’s a pretty perfect setup for someone who has the money.”

  She laughs that throaty laugh, and the sound prickles at my sensitive skin. “So it’s sellable?”

  “I have a number of businessmen on my books looking for something along these lines. Is there a mortgage on it?” She shakes her head, and I breathe out my disbelief as I take a stool opposite her. “Raya, do you realize how much money you’re sitting on here?”

  “Well, no, since you’ve not told me how much it’s worth.” She raises cute eyebrows and takes a sip of her tea.

  She’s being coy. I know she’s had other agents here. She’s aware of exactly how much of a treasure chest she’s sitting in. “Thirty million, easy. I’d push for thirty-five. It’s in amazing condition, all tasteful, and all the major stuff is taken care of—windows, electric, heating, kitchen, and bathrooms. Someone could move in and not spend a penny.” My valuation isn’t a surprise to her, like I knew it wouldn’t be.

  “Your fee?” she asks.

  I just manage to stop myself from declaring my services would be free if I got to lose myself in her all over again. “It’s negotiable.”

  “Then let’s negotiate.” She clasps her hands together and tilts her head. “Hit me with your best offer.”

  My smile hurts my cheeks. She’s fucking adorable. “Three percent.”

  She scowls. It’s terribly fake. “One.”

  I laugh. “I like you, Raya, but not that much.” That’s a blatant lie. “Two.”

  “Done.” She offers her hand on a smile. “Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Davies.”

  I shake my head in wonder, taking her hand. “I’ll have the contact drawn up.”

  “Okay.” Her eyes fall to my lips. And mine to hers. Our hands are still fused together. My skin is molten, my heart at odds with my mind. There’s only a few feet between our knees. Then that space is suddenly filled, both of us launching off our stools and crashing into each other—bodies and mouths. Her lips, still swollen, tackle mine with a force I’ve never known. A desperate force.

  I have her on the worktop in a heartbeat, my body nestled between her thighs, my hands cupping her face. The energy crackles and sparks, her sounds of gratification feeding my soul. Jesus Christ, this woman could be my downfall. Could make me forget who I am. All I am.

  I’m alternating between being scared and utterly intrigued by that, my thoughts chasing in circles. Her mouth is invigorating, her skin intoxicating, her scent making me super alert. I’m hungry for everything I can get, as she strokes at my nape, pushing her chest into mine.

  I make a feast of her, feeling, touching, kissing. Frantic. Desperate. Like I didn’t have her just minutes ago.

  Once again I’m lost, but the questions that have been whirling around in my skull since I met Raya suddenly return full force, and now they’ve grown—this house, that damn photograph. They’re building a high wall that my desire is suddenly struggling to get past.

  The man in that picture. Is that who she wants to forget? Am I a rebound of sorts, a way to help distract her? I don’t want to distract her. I want to make her forget completely. I want that sparkle in her eyes glowing at me every day. The self-admission is like a slap to my face. What’s happening to me?

  Gently easing away from her, I hold her at arm’s length by her shoulders, fighting to stabilize my breathing. “I need to go pick up my…” My head isn’t my own. Georgia is kept well away from this part of me, and Raya shouldn’t be any different. “My friend.” I can feel her eyes scanning my face, trying to read me, and that’s why I refuse to make eye contact with her. I move back, leaving her on the counter.

  “Drew?” The soft call of my name forces my eyes up. But she doesn’t say anything, and I realize she just wants to see my face, maybe to try and read me. Her small frown tells me she’s sensed my sudden wariness. “Are you okay?”

  No, no I’m not. “I need to go.” I turn and walk away, fastening my suit jacket to hide the lack of shirt buttons.

  Once I make it outside, I drink in air like it’s water in a desert. It worries me that I found it so difficult to release her. It worries me just how easy I found it to worship her rather than fuck her. It worries me how much I lose rationality in her presence. It worries me how curious I am about Raya’s life. How many questions I have, and that I won’t get the answers to.

  I’m fucking worried.

  Chapter 5

  You look like a troubled man, Drew.” Jesse meets me in the hallway, his finger sunk into a jar of peanut butter.

  “Do you have any beer? I need a beer.” I pass him and find my way to the kitchen, helping myself to the fridge. “Where’s Ava and the kids?”

  “On the trampoline.” He sits on a stool, studying me as his finger goes back and forth from the jar to his mouth.

  I look out the window into the garden, seeing four bodies bouncing around. Satisfied the coast is clear, I join my mate, taking a good swig of my beer. “Something weird just happened.” I cut straight to the chase.

  “Weird how?”

  “I think I just made love to a woman.”

  He scowls. “We’re looking after your daughter because you needed to keep a work appointment.”

  “It was a work appointment,” I confirm. “But the woman I told you about, the one I met at the club last night. She answered the door. And we ended up in her bedroom.”

  Jesse laughs. “You dirty dog.” And then the laughter is gone. “Wait. What do you mean you think you made love to her?”

  “Well, I definitely didn’t just fuck her.” I laugh under my breath, feeling more and more shell-shocked by the minute. “Last night I fucked her at the club. It was good. So fucking good. But it was still just a fuck.” That’s utter bullshit. “Today I definitely didn’t fuck her.”

  “Did you look into her eyes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you get tingles everywhere?”

  “God, yes.” I get a fresh bout of those tingles.

  “Did you lose all reason?”

  I inwardly laugh. “Well, I didn’t use a condom.”

  Silence. Silence that drives me crazy after only a few painful seconds.

  “Jesse?”

  “Drew…” he sighs.

  “What?”

  “You just made love to a woman,” he states, so matter-of fact. “Drew Davies just made love to a woman.” His laugh is torturous, and the confirmation of my fears has me up and pacing his kitchen.

  “Jesus.” I breathe, my panic building with the confirmation of what I already knew. “She asked for cold and emotionless. I feel like I’ve ripped her off.”

  “Why did she want that?”

  “I don’t know, and it’s driving me nuts because I really want to.”

  He’s laughing again, this time harder.

  “Thanks for your help, mate. Has Georgia been okay?”

  “Fine. I won’t tell her that Daddy dumped her for another woman.”

  I wince at the very thought, guilt starting to chew at my conscience. “This woman lives in a house worth at least thirty million,” I tell him, nodding when Jesse’s eyes widen. “And there’s no mortgage on it.”

  “It’s definitely hers?”

  “I’ve checked the title deeds. It’s hers.” I did that the second I left.

  “Fuck.” Jesse’s cheeks puff.

  Fuck, indeed. “She’s a sports therapist.”
I roll my shoulder, remembering her hands exploring my body keenly. The warmth. The relief. The glorious feel of her skin on mine. I laugh, taking more beer. “It was fucking torture being in that house with her alone. I couldn’t slap my mind into line, and the most fucked-up part is that I had no desire to chain her down. I just wanted to sink into her and enjoy it.”

  “Doomed.”

  I look up at my friend. “Huh?”

  “You’re doomed, Drew.” Jesse gets up and screws on the lid of his jar, wandering across to the fridge and putting it on the shelf inside. “Feeling crazy?”

  “Insane.”

  He grins, resting back on the worktop with his big arms folded