by Pamela Ann
I know I have to put a grinding halt to my emotions and possibly even have to end this sexual relationship I have with him, but I’m not ready, yet. Maybe a few more days? A week? Or maybe a couple weeks, who knows? Sooner or later, though, I eventually have to end it. I can’t risk losing my heart to this man. I just can’t.
Once was enough.
My thoughts are dominated by him during the entire ride, I barely notice when he turns into a parking spot and kills the engine. Sure enough, I didn’t even manage to read the road signs on the way, so I have no clue where we are.
I carefully hop off the bike before he does. He takes off his helmet and helps me with mine. He beams when he sees the state of my hair. “You look adorable.” His fingers try to fix the mess that my hair has become. Drake being attentive and sweet is too much. When he’s done, he holds the side of my jaw and kisses me. The kiss is heavy, loaded with everything that I could ask for, everything that I am scared of, and everything I have hoped for.
Lost, I am so lost in his kisses.
I’m drowning so quickly and I don’t know how I can stay afloat and fight this, fight him.
When our lips part, our eyes encounter each other’s as we both pant heavily. “Where are we?” I ask, breathy and a little unstable, but I have to break that electrifying bubble that surrounds us.
Drake grins and kisses my forehead before he responds. “Laguna Beach.”
“Okay. We live around the beach. Why did we have to go an hour away to be by the beach again?” I cock my head sideways while we leisurely stroll with the passing traffic. It is jam packed with people walking around with humming enthusiasm and excitement. Galleries, boutiques and restaurants are littered with artsy people.
“Thursdays are Art Walk. I come here whenever I get the chance, which is not very often. I wanted to show you, and at the same time, spend some time with you.” Drake takes hold of my hand, entwines our fingers and acts like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Art Walk, interesting,” I state as I take in the surroundings; it’s thriving and lively.
“There’s a live band and art galleries are open while people, like me, drink, eat and enjoy the good things in life.” Like him? Really…
“Right… because that is just your cup of tea. Right on,” I tease.
But, heck, this side of him is surprising. This is definitely not the old Drake I once knew. This is the neo-Drake that I have yet to get to know. I have to admit that I like the new him.
It’s endearing to see him relaxed with me. We go to one gallery after the other and another. It is endless. Drake is jovial while we both discuss art and what he loves most about it. We’re walking past a handmade jewelry boutique when he tugs my hand, which brings me to stop. “What?”
“Let’s go check this place out.” He points his head toward the store and leads the way.
It’s a tiny store, but it consists of some pretty intricate handmade items. I’m checking out ankle bracelets when I see Drake purchase something. Shrugging, I stroll to the other side of the store and admire a few more delicate necklaces.
“Like anything?” Drake asks from behind me.
Like I would tell him if I liked something? I don’t plan for him to pay for the things I want. I can do it myself.
I shake my head. “Nope, nothing catches my eye, yet.” I spin around and smile at him. “What did you get? A man bracelet? Something for your mom?”
Drake’s forefinger strokes the base of my neck. The light brush simply burns me. “I got something for you. Turn around.” I do as he asks, pulling my long dark hair to the side of my shoulder. Drake slowly places a delicate gold star necklace around my neck, making sure to delicately swipe his fingers across the back of my neck. It brings out an involuntary shiver. “There, now. It looks perfect on you.”
Melt me more, Drake, because by the end of the night, there will be no resolve left in me. “A star? It’s cute and pretty. I didn’t know you liked them. Thank you.” I give him a lingering kiss.
“I’m not much of a star person, but I thought it’d be something to remember me by.” Drake kisses my forehead and takes my hand.
We leave the store in a light mood. I’m surprised when Drake pulls me in a small corner, away from the crowd. “It was stars you stared at when I took you the first time. It’s a token for that magical night. I remember everything about it like it was just yesterday. The way you looked, smelled, felt under my touch. I have never forgotten you. You were the ghost that haunted my thoughts and dreams. I’m done thinking and dreaming, I want to live it . . . with you.”
I swallow whatever saliva I have left in the sudden dryness of my throat. “But you didn’t want me. You left the next day. You sent me away when I went to visit you. You didn’t want me . . .” I trail off as my memories relive those gut-wrenching moments.
Drake looks away and studies the pavement. “I’ve always wanted you. I just didn’t want to be tied down with such a big fucking commitment. At that age, all I wanted to do was party and date around. If I pursued you, our parents would’ve expected us to be engaged and married the minute we got out of college. I wasn’t ready for marriage.”
Me? A big commitment? If we had just communicated, we could’ve at least worked something out, but then, I guess he wanted to date other women, too. So, I suppose that won out for him.
I press my lips together and try to smile. It’s hard to do so when my heart feels heavy. “Well, I guess you made the right decision. It was for the best.” Drake just studies me closely.
The heavy scrutiny makes me uncomfortable.
Pushing off from the side of the building, I drag him toward the crowd. I don’t want to talk about the past. Nothing good ever comes out of it. I get it. He didn’t want to be with me back then. I don’t need to keep rehashing it twice a day. It’s taxing and most importantly, I’m sick of it.
I’m done talking about it.
After half an hour listening to the live band playing, we decide to have dinner in one of the restaurants nearby.
After the waiter takes our orders, I go check my messages, as does he. I’m texting Masie, my best friend, when my phone suddenly starts ringing.
Jared.
I glance over at Drake who is busy with emails. “I’ll be back,” I inform him as I get up and go around to where the bathrooms are located. It’s the quietest area I can find.
“Jared?”
“I was just about to hang up. How are you? How was Greece? Have some crazy fun under the sun?” Jared teases as he laughs lightly.
His niceness makes me feel like a heel. “It was great fun. How are you?” I ask, changing the subject and directing the conversation back toward him.
Certainly my life is chaotic at the moment. Glossing over it doesn’t feel right, either.
“I’m great! I’m actually excited to see you again. Do you have any idea when you’ll let me come over?” Jared’s tone just became serious.
I know he is referring more to my answer to his question about taking our relationship to another level, than actually coming over. It’s been a year since I’ve been in a relationship and Jared fits the bill for the kind of guy that I usually go for. I did want to make things work with him before I left for Greece . . . before Drake and I happened.
I know Drake and I won’t last. The past is just too much of a cloud to make things easy for us. Besides, he just broke up with Shannon. Drake isn’t the forever after type; he may want me now, but that will wear off. Men like Drake always want variety. So, that leaves me with one option and that is to stop this thing with Drake before I decide things with Jared.
I’ve been seeing Jared for ten weeks now, on and off with casual dates here and there. I like Jared. “How about tomorrow night? You get to pick.”
“That’s my girl. I’ll pick you up around seven?”
I smile. Yeah, I’m making the right decision. “Seven it is. See you!” I hang up the phone and stride toward our table.
; Silently, I sit across from Drake. Each movement is being studied and analyzed. I take a lengthy sip of my water.
“Was that Jared?” Drake shoots the question directly.
I bite the inside of my cheek before I nod my head. Why is he so nosy, anyway?
“What did he want?” he presses on.
“We spoke for a bit. This and that.” Vague? Yeah, very much so.
Drake glares at me. “This and that? Did you tell him that you’re with me now? That you’re not an available woman?” he asks through gritted teeth.
That certainly amps up my temper. “I am nobody’s woman. Yet.”
His nostrils flare as his jaws lock together. “You better watch it, Lil. I don’t want to make a scene to prove a point.”
I’m sure.
The waiter brings our food. I’ve already lost my appetite, so I barely pick at my food. Drake doesn’t seem too keen on his, either. Cussing, he pushes his plate aside, gets up and places twice the amount of our bill on the table.
“Outside, Lil. We need to talk. NOW,” Drake bites out before he leaves the restaurant, his face is dark with anger.
13
I’m nervous as hell when I walk out of the restaurant and find him close to where he parked his Ducati, leaning against the tree trunk, arms folded against his chest while he watches me walk over to him.
“We fucked yesterday. Did that mean anything to you?” he hisses at me.
Whoa, he doesn’t waste time getting to the point. Did it mean something to me? Yeah, it did, of course, but was it enough to lose my head over? No. “Well . . . I thought it was just . . . sex.”
Drake makes an evil, cruel laugh. “Sex. Just sex.” He laughs again. “I don’t fucking believe this. Lily Alexander, of all women, I would’ve never thought you would fuck just to fuck. I guess I was too caught up seeing and being with you again. I was alone in this it seems.”
Okay, that stings a little bit. “I . . .” I open my mouth and close it. I was what? Sorry? But I’m not sorry.
Drake swiftly stands close to me. “You what, Lil?” he questions bitingly in my ear.
“Can we just forget about it? It was only once.” I see him flinch. His eyes cloud over, chilling with temper.
Drake looks at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. I know for a fact that he doesn’t like what he’s seeing. I’m not naively strung out on love and adoration for him. I’ve changed. He can’t just expect me to throw everything out the window just because the ever elusive Drake Tatum decided to pursue me, us, together. After a minute of him still in a state of silence, I’m starting to panic. I suddenly wet my dry lips as my mind stampedes on.
When he speaks again, I tremble. “Let me fuck you tonight. Then you can go.”
I gasp at his proposition. Was that even sensible? We’re too heightened with tension.
One more night . . . in his arms . . . one more night.
“Just tonight?” I double check, arching my eyebrow at him.
“Just tonight.” Drake looks determined and detached.
Gone is the Drake from earlier. The Drake before me now, is the Drake I knew so well—a mercurial, insufferable, enthralling, dominating, blasted kind of man.
During the ride back, gone are the light touches and hand soothing gestures. Drake is detached and stone cold. When we arrive outside his house in Malibu, Drake stops and takes out his gate remote. His home, Italian style meets contemporary design, comes into view. It’s a rectangular villa made with limestone and bricks. His driveway is lit with embedded, small, circular lights along the pathway. The only word that comes to mind is stunning.
What I immediately notice is that his house is surrounded with a lot of wild blooms as well as an overabundance of lavender. The smell of lavender along with the smell of the ocean is rather intoxicating. The three-car garage door is stained and brushed to perfection in order to look rustic and Spartan. Old civilization meets contemporary. It was done in such a perfect blend of colors that it works beautifully, matching its owner.
Once inside the garage, Drake parks right next to his sports car and kills the engine. I release my arms from around him and get off the bike. I try to unlatch the strap around my helmet, but have a hard time doing so.
Fuck, I cuss inside my head. I hate helmets!
Drake, who already took off his, pulls me close to him and helps me with it. He is still on his bike, both legs apart, feet on the floor. He eyes me predatorily. Drake is simply sinful as he smolders. The dangerous vibe that emanates from him only gets me more excited.
“What?” I ask. My eyes devouring him.
“Lily.”
Drake’s eyes are dilated when he roughly pulls me against his thigh and captures my lips. His kiss is punishing, no holds barred as he obliterates my lips. It’s passionate, greedy, fervent and ardent with each kiss. I’m being consumed with no reservations. Moaning, I place my hands on the back of his head, locking it against mine. My world tilts as our tongues spar ferociously.
I want him so fucking much. My head chants it over and over, driving me insane.
Like I weigh nothing, Drake lifts me up and places me on the bike facing him with my legs on each side of the bike, sitting above his thighs.
His hands are all over me, caressing and probing. Still kissing me, his hands hastily slide the shoulder straps of my dress off, pushing it down just enough to expose my breasts. I’m breathless when his hands work their magic on my nipples. Both thumbs and fingers pinch, twist and pull in amazing synchronization.
“Drake,” I draw his name out with a whisper, panting.
His lips then seek my earlobe and nip all the way down to the base of my throat as his hands are still doing their delicious ministrations.
“You drive me so crazy, but I can’t get enough of you. God help me. I just can’t.” Drake places me on my back, on the gas tank, before he takes one erect nipple in his mouth.
God help me, indeed.
I arch my body more toward him, his mouth, and his hands while I tug at his hair every time he playfully bites my pebbled nipples. An animalistic growl comes from him. With enough force, Drake yanks my dress off my body, ripping it like it’s a piece of paper. My lips hang ajar as I look at my almost naked body, then look to the ripped dress that he carelessly flung on the floor.
“Open your legs wide,” Drake orders.
I only have my black lacy thong on. I plant my soles on both of his thighs. My legs are a little shaky when I part them to the furthest they can go.
Using his middle finger, he traces the outline of my thong, right over the folds of my sex. I shiver as I watch him with utmost concentration. His finger nudges the soft elastic to the side and his eyes lift, meeting my gaze. His lips are slightly parted, eyes simply fascinated. He is deliberately stroking me, in such a slow, turtle-paced speed I’m starting to get angry at the tease. “Arch toward me.”
I do as he asks while his slow-paced finger doesn’t accelerate at all. Drake bites the side of my breast as his middle finger punishingly strikes inside my entrance. I yelp at his crass invasion. The garage ceiling starts to spin above me to the motion of his finger. Drake is rough on me. I didn’t mention that I haven’t had sex in a year, well besides for when we were on the airplane. I’m wet, yes, but still, it stings.
Drake doesn’t even give me any indication when he suddenly rips off my thin, lacy thong while his finger is at its own mission. Twisting his wrist, his thumb fervently rubs against my core. My body starts to quake, my breasts shaking, and my back arching as I greedily ask for more. “Ahh, Drake . . .” I bite my lip as I moan his name.
He pulls out of me and shockingly sticks half of his middle finger inside my mouth. Our eyes connect. “Suck your juices off my finger.” Slowly, I suck, all the way to the base of it and up again while I watch him through my lashes.
“You look so wild and abandoned. I could nut just watching you like that.” I lick my lips when I see him take off his leather jacket and hastily place it behi
nd me. When he takes his shirt off and dumps it next to my ripped dress, there is no going back. I hungrily eye him. His hands skim the sides of my thighs, all the way down to my ankles. Like a pro, he grabs my ankles and slides my body down toward him. Strong arms lift my legs onto his shoulders before his mouth ravages my inner core.
His hot invasion heats me further. Clutching his thighs, my nails dig through his jeans when he stabs his tongue in and out of me while his hands toy with my breasts.
I have no idea where I get the strength to balance my body in that peculiar position. I have never realized how flexible I am until now. Drake demolishes me with his tongue and fingers. My body tenses when my orgasm peaks. I scream his name like it’s my fucking salvation.
I’m sweating and panting hard when he comes up for air. “I’m going to destroy this nice, little, tight pussy, Babe. You won’t be able to move for a few days without hurting. Each time you do, you’ll be reminded how I tore this up.” When Drake searches for my lips, I am beyond dizzy.
I’m in a sexual trance. I am hooked, high and flying.
He gently places me back down while he cautiously gets up, unbuckles his pants and slides them down, mid-thigh. His thick, ready to combust cock catches my attention. The head is thick and fat. The silken length lined with pronounced veins. Everything about this man demands attention. Even his manhood is a sight to behold.
How the heck did he manage to get that in the last couple of times? I wonder.
He sits back down, his cock positioned upwards stiffly. Drake gathers me in his arms. I wind my arms around him, as he places my legs over his thighs. My sex is pressed against his hard, hot length while we make out again. I cry out when Drake breaks our kiss and trails his mouth across my jaw to my earlobe.
“Do you want me?” he whispers against my ear while he grabs hold of his cock and pats it against my wet mound.
“Drake . . . I . . . want you . . .” I’m under his mercy. There’s no doubt about that.
“How much?” he angrily asks.