Sapphire Attraction (The Drakes of California)

by Zuri Day

  “Excuse me, ladies. I’m going to get something to wipe off my suit.”

  The bathrooms were near the front entrance. He’d just come out when the room began to buzz. He saw heads turning, necks craning, people talking behind their hands. Without a glimpse or a doubt he knew what had happened—Quinn had entered the building. He braced himself for something outrageous and stepped beyond the plant that blocked his view. The sight of her took his breath.

  Eve. Of course. I should have known. She stood tall and elegant in a flesh-colored catsuit. Only a spattering of strategically placed leaves stood between her and a public nudity charge. She wore a wig that reached her waist, a simple red mask and bright red lipstick. A sparkly evening purse shaped like an apple dangled from a delicate wrist. Ike wasn’t much of a religious man, but he’d heard the creation story and felt sorry for Adam. Because if Ike had faced a woman who looked like Quinn just now, he, too, would have eaten the apple. Heck, who was he fooling? He would have eaten the whole darn tree!

  She spotted him, said something to the couple and the guy beside her, and headed his way.

  Keep cool, Ike. She’s only a woman. He was thankful for the glasses that hid the lust in his eyes. As long as his heart didn’t beat out of his chest...he’d be fine.

  “The man in black,” she cooed as she sidled up to him. “Which one are you? Jay or Kay?”

  His face and voice were void of expression. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Probably but I don’t remember. Trent—I mean, Adam—which one was the black guy?”

  “I think Jay.”

  “Hello, Jay.”

  “Hello.”

  “I’d like you to meet my best friend, Trent, tonight known as Adam.”

  Ike barely turned his head. “Hello, Adam.”

  “Adam, in another world Jay’s name is Ike.”

  “How ya doin’, man?” They shook hands. “He’s pretty good!” Trent laughed as he talked to Quinn. “Has the whole cold stare down, the attitude, everything! Hey, I’m going to get a drink. What do you want?”

  “Just sparkling water for now. Thanks.”

  Neither Ike nor Quinn watched Trent leave. They only had eyes for each other.

  “I’m surprised your grandmother let you out of the house.”

  “She did, and with her blessings. Said my costume perfectly captured Eve in the garden. The only thing I’m missing—” she took a step closer, ran a fingernail across the back of his hand “—is your snake.”

  With that, she turned and melted into the crowd, leaving him and his snake pulsing.

  He took it as long as he could. For thirty whole minutes, a record, considering he hadn’t thought he’d make it for five. Then he excused himself from Audrey for a final time and went to find her. It wasn’t hard. She and “Adam” were dancing on the ballroom floor.

  “Excuse me, Adam,” Ike said, adopting the authoritative tone of the character he portrayed. “I’m conducting an investigation and need to speak to the witness.”

  Without another word, he grabbed Quinn’s hand and led them to the door.

  Chapter 19

  Ike’s heart pounded. His heat-seeking missile throbbed even harder. He was acting totally unlike himself and didn’t give a damn. Right now all he wanted was him, Quinn, together, alone. It had been a mistake to deny her, to dismiss the need she’d so clearly and passionately articulated last night.

  “Ike! Slow down. Where are we going?”

  “My house. Sorry, I forgot about your heels.”

  “Wait! I’m not leaving.”

  Ike stopped abruptly and turned around. “We’re going to my house,” he began, his voice low and urgent as he leaned close to her face, “where I am going to make long, slow, delicious love to you all night long. I am sorry that this didn’t happen last night. But the closest I can get to changing the past...is to give you the present.” Without warning he pulled her into him, placed his hands on her butt and pressed his rock hardness into her soft flesh. He watched her eyes widen and then flutter closed. “I really want to give it to you,” he whispered, tracing her ear with his tongue as he took another slow turn of his hips.

  “Ike...”

  “I want to make up for not being spontaneous, adventurous, exciting.”

  “I appreciate that, but you know I didn’t come here alone.”

  “Send him a text.”

  “We were on the dance floor. My purse is inside!”

  Ike let out a frustrated groan. “You’re driving me crazy.”

  “I know how that feels.”

  “Then help me...help you.”

  The line was lame but delivered with such emotion they laughed anyway.

  “Ike, it would be rude to leave Trent.”

  “Didn’t I see him talking to someone?”

  “Yes, my friend Peyton. But they just met.”

  “He’s a grown man. And you’re a grown woman. Tell him you have something grown to handle.” To bring the point home, he reached for her hand and placed it on his burgeoning snake.

  Quinn wasn’t shy. She examined the length and breadth of his package like a postal inspector. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll get the car.”

  By the time Ike had retrieved the car and pulled it around to the building’s entrance, his erection had diminished as his conscience increased. Had he really just pulled a half-naked woman off the dance floor, out of the club and into the fall chill? With the attraction that Quinn was in Paradise Cove, his actions had certainly not gone unnoticed. And what about Audrey? Was he to follow his own advice? Tell her he had to handle some grown folks’ business and to hitch a ride with Queen Victoria?

  He ran a frustrated hand across a bewildered brow. This wasn’t him. A tempestuous, impetuous imbecile who abandoned dates. An undisciplined dunce who showed out in public. His had always had a healthy sexual appetite, but nothing as raw and animalistic as what led to him channeling Tarzan and dragging Jane into the cold.

  “I can’t do this.” He scrolled his contacts for Quinn’s number and had just tapped the phone icon as she walked out the door. He ended the call. The doorman rushed to open the car door and help her inside.

  “Okay, all set,” she announced, her eyes bright and shiny.

  “We can’t do this.”

  “I agree. Having sex in this driveway would be totally obtuse. Which is why you need to step on it and get to Golden Gates pronto. Break the law if you have to, but get us there quick. You’ve got me so turned on!”

  She reached for him. He stayed her hand. “Quinn, stop.”

  “Look, Trent’s fine. I left him in Peyton’s most capable and willing hands. I wouldn’t doubt if they throw a party like we’re about to before the night is over.”

  “I forgot all about Audrey. If I leave without her, she’ll be very upset.”

  “Who was just telling me about being grown? Never mind. I forgot who I’m dealing with.”

  Quinn reached for the door. Ike reached for Quinn. “Wait.”

  Once again, he tapped the phone icon on the steering wheel and turned up the volume.

  Audrey’s voice shot out like an accusatory arrow. “Ike? Where are you?”

  “I’m outside, Audrey. In the car.”

  “What? Why didn’t you say we were leaving? I’ve been looking all over for you. Give me a minute to get my—”

  “Audrey.” His tone was more forceful than intended, spurred by guilt and resolve. “Don’t worry about leaving the party. I’ll arrange a car to be waiting for when you’re ready to go home.”

  A long pause. “Does this have anything to do with why I don’t see Quinn Taylor? Are you being tempted, and if so...will you fall?”

  Ike thought about reminding her that this topic was off-l
imits. But given the situation, she had a right to know.

  “Quinn is with me, Audrey. I feel bad, and I’m so sorry to hurt—”

  Audrey hung up.

  Ike’s shoulders slumped.

  “It’s okay,” Quinn said, her eyes filled with empathy. “We can go back inside.”

  “No.” Ike put the car in gear and eased away from the curb. “I’m where I want to be.”

  The drive from the Paradise Cove Country Club to Ike’s home in Golden Gates was quiet and, thankfully, brief. It was a comfortable silence, thrumming with sexual tension wrapped in anticipation. Soft sounds of smooth jazz complemented the vibe. Ike reached for Quinn’s hand and squeezed it. She squeezed back.

  They reached his home. He pulled into the garage and cut the engine.

  “Just about everything about me has been different since you happened.”

  “Since I happened?”

  He slid eyes shielded by lowered lids in her direction. “Yes. At first, I described that incident as an accident that happened. Later I came to realize that what happened to me...is you.”

  “I hope you don’t expect me to pay for any damages that can’t be verified with a legitimate estimate and receipt. A 1961 Ferrari was the only item of restitution included in the judge’s order.”

  “We don’t have to worry about that. Any pain from now on will be the good kind.”

  He leaned over, brushed her lips with his and exited the car. Once he’d unlocked the door, he stepped aside so she could enter his home. That’s where foreplay started. Right there. At the door.

  He turned her around, pressed her against it with his body, her fur coat unfastened, her scantily clad body absorbing his heat. His lips touched hers, just barely. Once, then again. His tongue took the same journey along the crease of her lips, swiping across until she opened up, and then delving inside her mouth in search of its twin. He kissed her lovingly, hungrily, thoroughly, as though she were the rays to his sunshine, the wetness of his rain. With an intensity that suggested in this moment one could not happen without the other. As though she was as necessary as oxygen and more crucial to his existence than the arteries that pumped blood to his heart.

  The kiss ended. Ike touched his forehead to hers and took deep breaths to calm down. “You drive me crazy,” he admitted. “I’m going to have to slow down and take my time with you. Let’s get comfortable.”

  They reached the coat closet. Ike stepped behind Quinn and removed her floor-length faux fur. He slid it off her shoulders, down her arms and released it to the floor. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he squeezed her tightly and inhaled her scent. Let his fingers travel from her waist to the hardened nipples standing out against the leaves that covered them. With a firm grip on each petal, he yanked hard. The flimsy material ripped. Her weighty globes jiggled in the unexpected freedom.

  “Oh! There is a zipper, you know,” Quinn managed between halting breaths as Ike came around and sucked a firm bud into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the areola as his hand reached down and cupped her flower, touched the moisture his kiss had created. He stood upright, looked into her eyes as he grasped the leaf covering the paradise he would soon enter and tore it off.

  “Don’t say a word,” he commanded before Quinn could speak. “I’ve let you have your way long enough. Tonight, I’m in control.”

  He eased her down, right there, to the faux fur’s silky lining. She lay back as he placed a hand on each knee and pushed her legs apart. Feathery kisses began just below her knee and moved up to her thigh—alternating from one leg to the other. And to the inner thigh, his tongue hot and wet, lapping the exposed skin, creating a friction with the mesh that raised goose bumps on Quinn’s bared skin. To the juncture of her thigh, nibbling an area just beneath the pelvic bone, close to but not quite touching the quivering bud within her flower. Over and again, he bit and licked while his fingers played a massaging melody up and down her thighs.

  “Ike! Please...”

  He threw off his coat. Grabbed the fabric on both sides of the torn area below and pulled. The material ripped up the middle, leaving Quinn exposed. Wet. Ready. He bent down, his mouth hovering just above the spot. He stuck out his tongue for a tiny taste, flicked it back and forth. Quinn writhed, lifted her hips off the floor, offered herself freely, completely. She tried to direct him, take over, speed things up. But Ike wasn’t having it. He stayed there. Flicking. Licking. Blowing on the wetness. Gently sucking and tugging on her petals, as if hers was the rarest of blooms.

  Sitting back on his haunches, he stared at her. She raised her knees to bring her legs together.

  “No. I want to see you. I want to imprint the image of your desire on my tongue and in my mind.”

  He gazed, and suddenly there was no more room in the crotch of his slacks. He stood then, continued to stare at her as he removed his cuff links, tie and shirt. Unfastened his belt, released the zipper and stepped out of his slacks. Adjusting his erection inside the roomy boxers, he knelt down and kissed her navel, ran his lips across the smooth bikini wax to the clean-shaven lips. Once there he slowly lowered his face to them and engaged in a French kiss of the feminine flower that lasted ten minutes. Quinn’s climax was an out-of-body experience.

  Turned out, Ike was just getting started.

  He picked her up, carried her up a wrought-iron staircase that in itself was a work of art. His hooded eyes never left hers as he reached for a condom and slid it over his long, thick dick. He took his time. Tapping the entrance to her paradise, going deeper each time, until he finally raised his hips and plunged himself fully inside her. Set up a slow, easy rhythm. Easing out. Thrusting in. He ground his hips in a slow, circular motion. Quinn matched the movement, her hips swirling and pulsing to the beat. Slow. Easy. Hard. Deep. He raised her legs and shifted.

  “Ah!”

  And hit that spot.

  Once.

  Twice.

  A third time.

  Then finally, when he was sure he’d given Quinn all she could handle and more, he pumped himself to paradise, too.

  Chapter 20

  Quinn prepared to turn over and hit a wall. She scrunched her eyes, momentarily confused. How could that happen? Her bed was in the middle of the room. She shifted her legs, felt the sweet soreness between her thighs and remembered everything. She turned from her side to her back and stared at the intricate designs on the gilded tray ceiling. A contented sigh escaped her lips.

  Ike heard, squeezed her shoulder, ran his hand down her arm and rested it on her bare thigh. She repositioned her pillow and snuggled back against him. Last night, all night, had been the surprise of her life. Not only was his direct, tenacious behavior totally out of character, but the intensity of his lovemaking was beyond anything she could have dreamed. The geeky old man in khakis and a polo, the unfeeling jerk with a cold heart. Definitely him on that day when they met in the town square. But last night, when he’d carried her to bed after sexing her senseless from the garage to the second-floor stairs, it was like meeting him again for the very first time. And if what she was beginning to feel against her booty cheeks was any indication, the meeting was about to continue.

  She started to turn over, but he stopped her and slid his hand between her legs. She responded to his sign language—fingers pressing against her thighs—and spread them apart. Without saying a word, his finger stroked her bud to life, his strokes slow and easy before easing inside for a more intimate caress. Gliding a finger between the folds of her blossom dripping with dew, brushing her lower-level lips with the lightest touch, squeezing her jewel until it quivered, until she shivered and wondered if one could die from wanting. Amazed at the intensity of the yearning when the last horizontal refreshment was only hours ago.

  After she heard the telltale sound of foil tearing, Ike aimed his missile with the precision of
a sharpshooter and leisurely sank into her heat. He sighed contentedly and for a few seconds lay there unmoving and took in the moment, keenly aware of all the sensations. His dick pulsed inside her, like a ravenous snake ready to plunder a deep cache for prey. For a minute (or was it an hour?) he thrust and pumped and licked and caressed until Quinn’s soft cooing signaled her oncoming release. She was guided to a kneeling position. The snake morphed into a lusty jackhammer, rapid strokes until the heat of their combustion caused a carnal eruption. She whimpered. He hissed. A satiated silence filled the room until they’d both caught their breath.

  Ike gently kissed her temple, stroked her hair and said, “Good morning.”

  Quinn flopped on her back and stretched her hands toward the ceiling. “It’s a very good morning! Your dick is so yummy!”

  “Quinn...”

  “I want to get woken up like that every single day!” She nestled into him, reached for his flaccid member and began bouncing it in her hand.

  “What in the world?” Ike grabbed her wrist, sitting up as he moved it.

  “What? I’m just playing with it.”

  “It’s not a toy.”

  “No, it’s a machine!”

  She looked at him, eyes shining, and started to laugh. He stared back with a scowl. “Come on, Ike. Lighten up!” She reached again for his penis. He blocked her hand. “Let me play with it!”

  “Stop!”

  “I want it!” She sat up, her breasts bobbing invitingly as she bounced on the bed. “You’re acting angry, but I know you want to laugh. You want to. Right?”

  She stood and started dancing in the middle of the bed. Stark naked, doing the running man. Ike finally lost control.

  “You’re insane!”

  “You make me crazy.” She joined him, sitting with their backs against a beautifully crafted silk-covered headboard. “Do I scare you? Are you starting to wonder what you’ve gotten into? For the record, you’ve definitely gotten into something. I can’t know there’s a dick like that around and not come on the hunt.”