by Lee Piper
“How’s Ray?”
Glancing at him is a mistake. When he’s this close, my brain scrambles until nothing but white noise fills my head. It can’t compute how freaking gorgeous he is, so it goes into lockdown mode. Blinking, I look away again. “He’s, ah, fine.”
Silence.
The weight of his stare is heavy. Bracing myself, I turn to face him again. My heart stutters to a stop before kicking into high gear. It pounds against my chest so loudly, I’m surprised Drake can’t hear it. “What?”
“I want the truth.”
“Just gave it to you.”
“All of it.”
Nibbling my bottom lip, I kick the gravel with my shoe. “It’s not pretty.”
Eyes the color of blue topaz drink in my features. They devour everything, my eyebrows, nose, cheeks, and lips. Nothing is overlooked. “Pretty is overrated. I want what’s real.”
Sucking in a quick breath, I blink. Then, emboldened by his honesty, I murmur, “He’s passed out in his van. The guy’s snoring his ass off.”
Drake mutters a curse. “Did he help pack up the stage?”
Blonde hair fills my vision as I shake my head.
He curses again. “If he’s not around to set up or dismantle the stage, you need to find me. Understand? You’re not doing that shit on your own, especially with fingers that look like inflatable condoms.”
I roll my eyes. “Quit being so melodramatic. The swelling’s gone down, and I can move them, see?” Wiggling the digits, I bite back a string of cuss words because the movement hurts like a bitch. Clearing my throat, I continue. “Besides, I don’t need your help. I can do my job just fine.”
Drake watches me for a long moment. “Never said you couldn’t.”
“Then why—”
“Not negotiable.”
Crossing my arms, I glare.
His full lips quirk, and a mischievous glint brightens his eyes.
“You’re a dick.”
“You love it.”
“I really don’t.”
Throwing his head back, he laughs. The booming sound echoes in the still evening and reverberates off my RV before fading into the darkness. “Love your sass, princess. Gets me every time.”
To piss him off, I don’t reply.
However, my quietness merely serves to make him laugh harder. “I know what you’re doing.”
“You don’t know shit.” Turning from him, I try to hide my smile.
Once Drake’s chuckles subside, we’re both silent. Lost in our own thoughts, we take in the darkness above. I lose myself by counting constellations, my smile widening when I spy a shooting star.
It’s only when Drake’s low voice rumbles beside me that I remember he’s still there.
“Is this how you thought it’d turn out?”
Glancing at his profile, I marvel at the way his skin appears otherworldly in the moonlight. He’s even more striking than Canopus. “What do you mean?”
He shrugs. “Life, I guess.”
Shifting my gaze to the sky, I search for and find Sirius. “The pessimist in me says yes.”
Drake’s stare warms the side of my face. “And the optimist?”
Facing him, I give in to a wistful smile. “The optimist says no.”
He skims his knuckles across my cheek. “What else does the optimist say?”
My eyes flit shut.
“Look at me.”
Blinking, I open them again.
“Well?” His voice is gentle, coaxing. It’s a loving embrace coupled with a soft caress. It’s everything I need to admit what I’ve held secret for so long.
So, with a deep breath, I throw myself off the precipice, hoping he’ll catch me. “It says life won’t always be like this because I’m going to find a way to make it better. I need to work hard, work smart, and I’ll achieve whatever I set my mind to.” Nibbling my bottom lip, I choose my words carefully. “It says the future is fucking beautiful if I’m brave enough to chase it. And no one is going to stop me, no matter how much they try to tear me apart.” Drake’s eyes drop to my mouth. “I. Won’t. Break.”
Strong fingers grip my chin. “No, you won’t.”
Drake’s belief in me is my undoing. Tears well, threatening to cascade down my cheeks. I will them away, not wanting any evidence of my weakness. But they’re determined bastards, intent on being seen. They blur my vision before freefalling, staining my skin with wet rivulets.
Leaning forward, Drake presses soft lips to my cheeks, kissing them away. Choking back a sob, I let him, craving his touch.
Once he’s captured them all, he straightens. His expression is a mixture of admiration, resolve, and carnality. His mouth glistens with my tears, and I marvel at the sight, at the miracle of a person taking on the defenselessness of another and thereby strengthening them in the process. “What is it you want? With your life, I mean.”
I nibble my bottom lip, considering Drake’s question. Then, figuring I’ve come this far, I admit, “I want to design sound equipment. Have my own line of speakers, PAs, and amps. I want to tour with bands, learn what they need in their hardware, and make it for them. Individualize each piece so it’s crafted especially for their music.”
Quiet breaths fill the stillness.
Feeling as though I’ve said too much, I shift in my seat before glancing away. Only, Drake holds me captive so I can’t. His touch is gentle but firm, like he’s grasping a feather he doesn’t want to crush. His stare brightens, those blue irises morphing into scorching flames. The heat from them burns any lingering self-doubt. “Is that why you borrowed the money? As a start-up loan?”
I nod.
“What happened to it?”
My throat tightens, and I’d swallow if it didn’t hurt so much. Each inhalation is a dry rasp, a pathetic attempt at easing the building panic. “I….” Closing my eyes, I block out the questions in Drake’s eyes, the answers I’m not ready to share, and the man in the RV not far from here who ruined any chance I had of making a new life for myself.
I love Ray, I do. But sometimes I hate him more.
The hold on me loosens. Long fingers slide to my neck and a thumb tips my chin. “It’s okay,” a familiar gravelly voice rumbles. “Tell me after.”
Blinking, I open my eyes and gaze into his face. “After?”
“After I’ve made you mine.”
Chapter Twelve
“What?” I murmur, confused.
“You heard me.”
“Did we jump back in time and no one told me? I’m not yours. I don’t belong to anyone.”
“Wrong.”
“Wrong? Are you out of your damn mind?” I try to pull away, to create some distance between me and the crazy person barely an inch from my face. Only, his grip tightens, meaning I can’t do anything but stare at him in bewilderment.
“You’re mine. Plain and simple.”
“You’re insane.”
But Drake continues as though I haven’t spoken. “It’s about time I proved it to you.”
It’s the way he says it, like he’s declaring an obvious certainty only an idiot would question, that causes my heart to thump in triple time. “Holy shit. You’re serious.”
“Deadly.”
“That too.”
Determination laced with dark hunger and something more complex that I can’t name stares back at me.
Blood pounds in my ears, I can barely hear my own voice over the rhythmic beat. “No.” I try to shake my head, heat swelling inside my chest. “This isn’t happening. It’s a mistake. You’re horny, that’s all. Your dick has confused me with someone who’ll do the walk of shame tomorrow morning. I’m not that person, Drake.”
He leans in close, the scent of mint and sandalwood washing over my parted lips. “No mistake.”
“Drake, quit staring at me like that. You’re freaking me out.”
His knuckles trail across my damp cheeks. “I’ve got you.”
I bat him away, and with him, the trail o
f shivers tingling my spine.
Drake sighs, letting me go. “Let me break it down for you. This thing between us?” He gestures to the nonexistent space. “It’s happening. Deal with it.”
“Oh God.”
“Fight it all you want, but the end result will be the same.” The corner of his lips quirk. My eyes dart to the idiosyncrasy, refusing to look away. “You. Belong. To. Me.”
“No, I—”
Pillow-soft lips whisper against my mouth. They’re wet with my tears, the salt tart on my skin. “Shut up.”
“Drake—”
“I said, shut up.”
A smile teases my lips. “You’re asking the impossible.”
Warm hands cup my face. “Wanna know what’s impossible?”
“Not really. But I’ve got a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”
“Damn fucking straight, I am.” He shifts until his lean frame is parallel with mine.
The heat radiating from his torso is intense. It’ll burn me from the inside out if I’m not careful.
“Pretending I don’t want to tell the whole goddamn world that you’re my woman is impossible. Ignoring the way your skin sets mine on fucking fire is impossible. Stopping myself from owning your lips, your curves, your pussy, no matter where we are and who’s around, is impossible.” Sharp teeth nip my earlobe before a hot tongue soothes away the sting. “Not claiming you is impossible.”
“I’m not a damn prize, Drake,” I breathe.
He gazes at me. The abject wonder and longing in his expression causes tears to burn the back of my throat. “I know.” He blinks.
I blink. “Why are you doing this?” My voice cracks on the final entreaty.
Two thumbs trace semicircles on my cheeks. “What?”
“Acting like I’m Sirius.”
“Who’s Sirius?”
“Not who, what. Sirius is the brightest star in the sky.”
“Because that’s what you are. The most luminous fucking creature I’ve ever seen.”
Drake kisses me. He presses his mouth to mine, and everything stops. Time pauses, the earth stills, and thoughts quieten. His touch is an assertion, a promise; it’s everything I never thought I deserved yet craved all the same.
I pull away. Panting, my eyes dart between his. “No, I—”
“Yes.”
Clenching my eyes tight, I cup his face, drawing him nearer, yet wanting him further away.
Drake dips his head, his nose skimming the length of my neck.
A fire rages behind, blazing its way across my skin, incinerating every doubt in its path.
“Fuck it.” Yanking him to me, I press my mouth to his.
On a deep groan, Drake takes over, claiming what always belonged to him.
“More,” I whimper. God help me, I actually whimper. No man has ever reduced me to this. Yet my body angles toward his and my fingers dig into his skin. “I need more, ace.”
A low growl sounds. It’s the only warning I get before a tongue thrusts inside. I gasp, the action allowing Drake to delve deep into my mouth. He takes full advantage, owning every inch. His tongue massages mine; the kiss hot, wet, and so fucking amazing I don’t need to open my eyes to see the stars.
Strong hands hold me firm, demanding lips mold mine, and that tongue…. Dear God, that tongue is going to destroy me. I want it everywhere.
“We’re going inside.” His deep voice washes over me in tantalizing waves. “Now.”
Breaking away, I gaze at him. Heat mixed with need and an elusive emotion I’ve never seen before flit across his chiseled features. However, I don’t have long to ponder what it is and what it could mean, because Drake stands. He holds out his hand, and as certain as the sun rises each morning, I place mine in his.
Come on, his body whispers. You’re safe with me.
It’s the inevitability in the contact; it’s knowing this is where I’m meant to be that quells the distrust and replaces it with something primal. A fundamental certainty is woven through the fabric of my DNA like a ribbon made of stars. It binds me to him.
Drake pulls me to my feet.
I open the door to my RV.
We step through.
It closes behind us.
Moonlight filters through the holes in the threadbare curtains, the small, dark space awash in patches of silver. It’s like standing in the center of a kaleidoscope. I take a moment to marvel at the patterns decorating aged walls. My gaze takes in a dented plate left drying on the sink, an old T-shirt hanging from the corner of the cushioned bench seat and, through the dilapidated sliding door, an almost empty shower gel container fallen onto its side. Rose scented.
Familiar fingers clasp my hips, distracting me from pondering what my home must look like through the eyes of a rock star. Does he care it’s as broken as I am? That it’s littered with mismatched items and fragmented pieces? A part of me wishes we were in his tour bus, surrounded by high-tech gadgets and furnishings more fitting for a moment like this. But the other part of me is glad we’re here. It’s honest. Real. Me.
A tall, lean body sidles up behind my lithe frame. A head drops to my shoulder, and soft kisses pepper the length of my collarbone. “You’re beautiful.”
His affirmation is everything.
“So fucking beautiful.”
I want to cry.
“Even when you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared,” I whisper into the darkness. My body betrays the bravado, however, as a shiver tickles my skin. Despite the hundreds of ways this could all go to hell, there’s a chance it could be the start of something amazing. It’s what causes me to reach up and wrap my arms around Drake’s neck.
The hands on my hips twitch.
My ass presses against his heavy erection, and I bite my lip at the way it nestles between my crack. It shouldn’t feel like two halves clicking into place, but somehow, it does.
A tortured groan sounds—not me. The hands that were on my hips slip beneath my T-shirt. They follow the curvature of my waist, trail over my ribs, and pause below the twin swells of my breasts. There, they linger, thumbs brushing the underwire of my bra. “Want you to know something.” The sound of Drake’s Adam’s apple bobbing on a swallow fills the silence. “The game ended a long time ago. What we’re doing—”
Turning in Drake’s arms, I gaze at his solemn expression. My index finger traces his lips, and I luxuriate in the plump, silken skin. “I know.”
“And you’re still here.”
But what he doesn’t say is despite the women I’ve fucked, despite the life you’ve led, despite not knowing what the future holds, you’re here.
“Yeah. I’m still here.”
“You’re killing me, princess,” he rasps.
“It’s okay. You’re killing me too.” With deliberate movements, I grasp the hem of my T-shirt and lift it from my body. The material hitting linoleum is cracking thunder.
Drake’s gaze drops to my breasts; they’re barely contained in the lace cups. He closes his eyes and curses. A lot. It makes me smile. When he opens them again, I expect him to reach for me and make good on his promise of claiming my body. However, he doesn’t so much as skim his knuckles across my needy skin. Instead, with eyes firmly fixed on my face, he slowly removes his own shirt. Every inch of pale skin is a grand reveal. It’s a declaration and a promise.
One I desperately want to believe.
The shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor. To be honest, I don’t care where. My hungry eyes are too busy feasting on every ridge and valley of Drake’s ripped torso. His upper body is a work of art, a note of pure lyrical genius. It’s perfection.
My mouth waters and I nibble my bottom lip, craving what has been offered as mine. I want to lick him and brand him with my tongue. I want to mark him in the most primitive way. So, leaning forward, I do. “Mmm.” His skin is warm as the remnants of bodywash explode in my mouth, setting my taste buds aflame. “Better than I imagined.”
“Fuck,” he hisses
. His fingers tangle in my hair, and he pulls back. It’s painful but in a good way, and my core throbs in response. Drake stares at me in awed bafflement, his pupils so dilated his eyes appear black. “Where the hell did you come from?”
I remain still, because really, what is there to say?
“You crashed into my world—”
Shaking my head, I press a palm over his heaving chest. “Shh. Kiss me.”
His expression turns dark and possessive. After removing my hand, he raises it to his mouth and presses his lips to it. Then, he nips the sensitive skin. “This is real, you got that? It’s fucking real. No running, no hiding. We stand and fight for this.”
Tingles erupt at the base of my neck before freefalling down my spine. I want to say something profound. Something worthy of a moment like this. However, when I open my mouth, the words curdle on my tongue and nothing comes out. So, closing it again, I remain mute.
Drake dips his head, and the liquid pools of his eyes pin me in place. “No hiding.” He steals my mouth in a branding kiss. My back bows, bending to fit the shape of his hard body as his arms tighten around me.
There are no flowery words to soften his statement, no tightening of his possessive touch. There are simply two words, three syllables, and a whole lot of ownership in between. His admission is powerful enough to alter the physical makeup of my entire world. One second everything is as it ever was, and the next… it’s not. It’s completely different. And that’s when it hits me. “Holy shit.”
Drake Stone wants me. Wants me. The charismatic lead singer craves the broken, jaded girl with enough baggage to crush an army. He desires the abrupt social outcast who never wanted to fit in. He sees my truth, every brittle part, every ugly piece, every sharp corner, and still wants to claim it as his own. The concept is terrifying, humbling. It’s akin to jumping from a plane knowing full well there’s no parachute to save me.
“Whatever this is, wherever it leads, it’s ours. You feel me?”
I nod. The lace of my bra brushes against his naked chest, and my nipples pebble into hard peaks from the friction. “I feel you.”
“That you fucking do.”
When I reach behind my back to remove my bra, Drake brushes my hands away. With a quick flick of his fingers—a well-practiced movement if ever I recognized one—the clasp is undone. Slowly, deliberately, he peels the lace from my flesh.