by Pamela Ann
“I can’t help that I’m a jealous bastard. I don’t like it when you smile at another guy like that. I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but shit—I still don’t like it,” Drake speaks from behind me.
Oh come on, it’s Bass Cole. It was a given for anyone with eyes.
“Yeah, well, it’s bullshit. You have no grounds to be jealous, Drake. Get that through your head. Acting like a jealous, possessive lover is dumb when you mean nothing to me.”
Drake stands behind me, lips against my ear, cutting through my delicate armor.
“Ouch, that tongue of yours really needs some kind of punishment. I am possessive of what’s mine. You were mine the moment you surrendered this body to me eight years ago. I’m back and I don’t want to relinquish that right. However long it takes, I will fucking have you back. I won’t have it any other way. Get that through your head, Lily.” He abruptly leaves after his speech.
I still stand there like a frozen statue, his words playing around in my head. He might be right, but I will not submit that easily, not without kicking and screaming with protest.
“Are you okay?” Emma asks as she comes up next to me. Her beautiful, big, blue eyes look concerned.
“Yes. Drake’s just being . . . a dick. Nothing new there, if you ask me.” I smile when she starts laughing.
“Yeah, I could tell he was getting all territorial. Men can’t help it. They act like idiots when they really like someone.” Emma stares out at the horizon, looking like her thoughts took her somewhere far away.
“You and Bass look perfect. He’s crazy about you,” I say, changing the subject. I know I’m getting personal, but Emma has that easy personality that I feel comfortable talking to, like normal friends do.
Emma shakes her head, but her eyes speak volumes. “I think he does . . . he’s been terrific. No, no, he’s been perfect . . . Amazing to the point where . . . I feel that we should slow down.” She quickly glances at me before continuing. “Sorry for dumping that on you, I just miss having my friends around. I don’t have an emotional outlet about men right now. They’ll be here in a few days, though, and I’m excited about that.”
“Trust me. Your problem is much better than mine. I’d rather listen to yours than go through mine in my head for the thousandth time. I was in love with him eight years ago. After spending a night in his arms, my first, he left without a word and now he just expects me to fall back into his arms again.”
“Maybe a good talk would do the trick for you both. From what I could see earlier, he’s got it bad for you and I don’t think Drake’s the kind of man to back down, anyway. Just follow your heart, that’s what I used to tell myself.” Emma looks thoughtful for a moment.
“You guys are in love, huh?”
Emma looks at me strangely, shaking her head and huffing. “No, no, we just started barely a week ago. It’s too early. I just got off a relationship a few months back.” Emma bites her lip nervously. “It’s just too early . . . It just can’t happen . . .” she wonders out loud.
I touch her shoulder and squeeze it. “Trust me, Hon, love is a bitch. It creeps up on you when you don’t want it to.”
Emma sighs. “Shit. I don’t want to think about any of it. Let’s go get some dinner and get drunk. I think we both need it.”
That’s more like it.
That I can agree on. “Awesome, lead the way.”
The next day, Emma has to shoot scenes with her co-stars, and Bass has to go to New York for some work involving the third installment of Knights of the Cimmerian that is going to be out in a few months.
I was at the meeting Drake held earlier with Martin Lombardo, the director, and some other important people involving the movie. The meeting took almost two hours and when it ended, I was ready to hit the sack. The time difference really is too difficult to adjust to when I’ve only been here for a couple of days. It’s a bitch, but I know I have to deal with it.
Drake is supposed to be meeting up with a few people. I’m relieved since I don’t really want to do anything unless it involves passing out for the rest of the night.
Which I do, gladly.
When I wake the next day, it’s already time to leave for London.
11
The last couple of days with Drake are challenging and strenuous and I am exhausted physically, mentally and emotionally.
I am teetering on the edge of the precipice and I’m a step away from surrendering to what he wants . . . to what my body’s been longing and yearning for.
It’s been over five hours since we departed from Heathrow. Six long, arduous and crucial hours… ticking slowly by until we land in Los Angeles.
Good luck to me.
I shift again, a little uncomfortable. The silent humming noise of the aircraft’s engine lulls people to sleep as we cross the Atlantic Ocean. The past few days flash in my head.
Spending three whole damn days with Drake took a toll on me.
I am confused as ever, maybe more so.
One side is telling me to never forget about the past and the other one tells me to hell with it, just surrender to him. I admit the second choice is seriously starting to appeal to me as the minutes tick by.
Could I separate having sex and my emotional being?
Could I be that mechanical? I know a lot of people do it. Heck, my friends do it all the time, but I never have . . . What Drake did to me ages ago made me hesitant. I only get involved sexually with men that I have been dating seriously.
Curled in my seat, I stare at the back of the woman who is across the aisle from me, snoring lightly, while my thoughts run amok.
“Are you awake, Babe?” Drake gently asks behind me. He is so close I can feel his hot breath on the back of my neck.
My body tenses as each of his labored breaths hit my skin. I bite my lip hard, trying not to groan and moan at the same time. Drake is definitely making things difficult now. When I’m certain that I can’t take any more of the toe-curling torture, I shift onto my other side and face him.
“What do you want?” I ask in a gritted, hushed tone.
The dim lighting of the cabin makes his eyes glow. Desire and lust are tangible in those silver orbs. Instead of responding to my question, Drake nudges his head closer against the laid back seat and stares some more. His eyes take me in, stroking with its heat as he studies my profile. Starting from the base of my throat, his gaze slowly and heatedly caresses me; it makes me tremble as it drifts higher.
Drake hasn’t even touched me and I’m ready to come apart. His power over my body is beyond ridiculous, and yet, it’s something I crave. It is something I haven’t experienced with anyone else, except Drake, and now that I’ve been reminded of it, its compelling power is hypnotizing and simply binds me to him like a fucking magnet.
His face is so close our eyes clash. Drake’s eyes challenge me. He obviously wants me to make the first move. Have I made my decision? Am I sure enough that I can withstand this once it’s done between him and I?
Oh, just fuck it! “I want you,” I murmur before I bite his bottom lip. I hear him groan before he pulls my head toward him, a little too hard, but I like it.
I know Drake is a passionate man with insatiable appetites, but the way he is devouring my lips with a wolfish hunger, I’m beginning to think that I am his last meal.
With our lips in a wet-hungered lip lock, my hands reacquaint themselves with his body. The dull ache and the ambush of nostalgia come in spades.
I’m eighteen again. In his arms, he makes me feel like the Lily I once was. In love and worshipping the ground this man walks on. The overwhelming tidal wave of old emotions burns something inside me. The more Drake and I kiss, the burning becomes much more intense. It’s addictive. Like getting high the first time and I want more of my drug.
I lift his shirt and run my nails from his chest all the way to his abs. Drake’s grip on the back of my head tightens. My hand goes lower and rubs his palpable hard-on. The more I rub and stroke it, the b
igger it becomes.
Sex starved? Yes, that would be me.
I am heady with erotically aroused senses and my hand seems to have its own mind because it won’t part with his crotch. Drake breaks the kiss and rests his head against the headrest. “Lil, you’re killing me here. Unless . . . if you don’t have any plans to stop.”
I sensually bite my lip while my heart speeds frantically against my chest as I look at Drake’s sexually charged profile. “Do you want to . . . fuck me here?” I whisper excitedly.
Drake’s large hand goes over my hand that is still rubbing him. His hand tightens against mine as he leans over and brushes his lips against mine. “I want to fuck you anywhere I can get you. You should know that by now. I want to feel those wet folds glide against my cock while I fuck your pussy well. I want you. I have always wanted you, always.”
Shit. That admission soaks my panties. “Claim me, Drake.” Again.
“Turn around and lift your hips.” Drake orders before he covers us both with a blanket. I do as I’m told and within less than a second, his hands slide my leggings and underwear down, all the way to my knees. Fuck, what if we get caught? This is going to be humiliating.
My heart is pounding so hard.
The thought of having sex with Drake alone is enough to put me in hysteria, but put an extra dose of joining the mile high club, and it definitely gets me turned on.
I never thought I could be naughty, but hell, I have to admit this is fun. My body stills when I feel and hear Drake unzip his jeans. I almost moan when his hand strokes the back of my thighs.
Drake pulls my back against him. His heartbeat is evident against my back. I bite my lip when he whispers throatily against my ear, “Under no circumstances will you moan, scream or utter a damn word. Do we understand each other, Lil?”
I turn halfway to just see a bit of his face; when our eyes meet, I know without a doubt that I’m about to have the fucking time of my life. “Deal.”
Drake kisses my shoulder as his hand starts to inch close to my mound. At this point, I’m so wet and ready for his invasion, but still, he is taking his sweet time getting to the main event. “Come here, give me your lips.”
I bite my lip, twisting my head and inching closer to him, still on my side, his chest on my back. I hear him draw his breath and slowly, his lips brush against mine. The soft touch ignites something foreign inside me. I don’t even wait for him to take charge. I just reach my arm up, grab the back of his head and kiss him passionately. This is Drake and I have missed him so fucking much.
His kisses are just as fevered, matching mine. I sag against him, feeling weak and dizzy. Just being in his arms again makes me feel all sorts of things; it is overwhelming. Still devouring each other’s lips, his other hand snakes across and reaches inside my shirt. Pushing my bra down, his hand cups and kneads my breast. I moan against his lips when he works on my nipple, twisting and pulling it, driving me insane.
When his hand reaches lower, he stops to caress my butt in slow circles. I pull away from his lips when I feel his hand closing in on my mound, the heavenly feel is intoxicating. He slowly parts my legs, so his fingers can reach further inside. The stroke of his finger undoes me. FUCK!
“Shhhh, be quiet,” Drake speaks close to my ear. His hot breath sends shivers all over my body.
His forefinger glides up and down my womanhood. He teases my nub a few times and shocks me when he sticks a finger inside my tight hole. It’s been a year since I last had sex. The alien feeling of another man touching me is too much to take. Like I said before, I suppose one could say that I am sex starved.
His finger teases as it plunges in and out of me. When he adds his thumb into the mix to rub against my clit, a soft moan escapes me.
“Lil, I warned you. Do you want me to stop?” Drake threatens.
I slightly shake my head as I grind my pussy on his hand. He takes that as a sign of understanding and I feel bereft when he withdraws his hand. He pulls my hips against his and his hard cock slides in between my thighs. I shudder at his size. Was Drake this big the last time? I wonder.
When I feel the head of his shaft rub against my outer core, sliding the shaft slowly up and down to get me even wetter, I hear him warn me again in my ear, “I’m going to fuck you now, but you have to be a good girl, understood?”
“Yes,” I whisper back.
With one slow, swift thrust, he slides halfway in. I turn my face on the seat to muffle my reaction. Oh God. Drake feels amazing. When his hips thrust further in, I bunch my hands together to stop myself from screaming in pleasure. My nails bite the insides of my palm; it hurts, but I don’t care. I’m past caring because what Drake is doing to me is the only thing that I can focus on. Well, it’s the only thing that dominates me, nothing else matters. He grips the side of my hip so he can control the pace better.
The sweet, slow, tortured pace is driving me insane. When he goes deeper into me, my lips let out a loud gasp, but it’s too late for me to take it back. Drake hisses in my ear.
I still, I’m suddenly scared he is going to stop. I sag in relief when he starts to move in and out of me again. I rejoice when his right hand snakes around my stomach and seeks my nub, rubbing it violently. My body is starting to quiver. Drake notices the sudden change in me and on cue his left hand covers my mouth while his other still touches me and his cock is still fucking me.
The forbidden feel of the whole scene, and Drake using his hand to shut me up, drives my body into such a sexual high, I come a minute after.
“Are you on the pill?” he asks, panting hard.
I shake my head, since his hand makes it impossible for me to speak. He cusses, panting like a maniac, but it doesn’t stop him from pummeling me. His tongue nibbles on my earlobe. “Can I come inside you? Is it safe?”
Was it? I had my period a week and a half ago. Am I ovulating? I have no clue. It should be okay, right?
To answer his question, I push my ass hard against his cock. “Thank you.” Drake’s lips nip on my neck as he concentrates on his release. Then picks up pace and his finger slides around my folds, driving my body to another thrilling orgasm. His teeth painfully sink into the flesh of my neck when he unloads his semen. His small thrusts make me swell with pleasure as he pumps and drains himself inside me.
His heavy breathing tickles the back of my ear. “Did I hurt you?” he softly asks.
Yes, BUT I LOVED IT!
“No, of course not.”
He kisses the spot where he sunk his teeth in hard before he pulls out of me. The instant feel of not having him connected to me makes me feel odd for some reason.
After Drake helps me with my clothing, he pulls me toward him, our faces against each other. Our eyes twinkle, obviously happy. I don’t want to talk because we might just ruin the mood. Wetting my swollen lips, I slowly kiss him.
Drake pulls me closer and has my head resting against his arms as his palm cradles my face. The kiss lasts for a good forty-five minutes.
I think, in between that time, my heart starts to thaw out.
12
“I’m outside,” Drake says and instantly hangs up without waiting for me to respond. We just arrived back yesterday and he woke me up an hour ago─thanks to my jet-lag, my schedule is now messed up─demanding for me to get ready. He doesn’t mention where we’re going.
Irritated, I grab my purse and go out the door.
What greets me is a total surprise.
Drake Tatum in black jeans, a black wife beater, black boots and straddling a black with red outlined limited edition Ducati. I stand there mesmerized at the very sight of him. His grey eyes smolder as he watches me walk toward him.
Oh, shit. I’m in so much trouble.
I haven’t seen him in twenty-four hours and I’m already drooling at the sight of him. Will I be addicted to him like I was eight years ago? I better not. I don’t think I’ll forgive myself if I go that route again.
“Want to go for a ride?” Drake asks with a he
art-thudding huskiness.
Ride.
Yes, I want to ride.
Badly.
I stride over to where he’s sitting lazily on his bike and as he hands me a black helmet, I looked at him, lustfully. “I didn’t know you were a biker boy.” I’m wearing a short baby pink chiffon dress, how do I manage to hop on that testosterone machine?
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know, yet, Lil. As for your dress, just tuck it in between your legs once you’re seated.” Drake helps me put on the helmet. Before sliding the visor of my helmet down to shield my eyes, he stares and pauses as his eyes take me in. “You look fucking hot, Babe.”
I blush and give him a shy smile that he can’t see. “You look fucking delicious, too, Drake Tatum.”
He gives me a toe-curling, earth-shattering, heart-attack inducing kind of smile. I blush deeper and hop on the sex-hormonal-machine. I follow his instructions and make sure I tuck the ends of my dress underneath and in between my thighs. Once I’m done, I hug him a little too tightly.
“Scared?”
Hell to the yes. “A little. Go easy on me, okay? This is my first.” My voice is muffled inside the helmet.
I hear him chuckle. “I always go easy on your first times, Lil. You ought to know that by now.”
My hands go inside his jacket and caress the side of his hips. I sigh at the feel of his heated, hard body. Drake takes off his helmet and seizes hold of my right hand. He kisses it before he plants it back inside his jacket. “I missed you, too, Babe,” he says before he places his helmet back on and guns the bike.
If I thought Drake drove like a maniac with his sports car, he proves me wrong. The way he swerves and guns the bike is mental, coupled with insanity. It is terrifying and yet thrilling. Once in a while, he will try to reach in and squeeze my hand with his. Every time he does, my heart gives way.