Loving Lily

by Pamela Ann

  Good riddance, I thought to myself as I carried on towards the men’s room.

  “Man whore,” I murmured much to myself.

  How many women had I really screwed? Fuck. Like I was the kind who actually counted. Those were for the ones who couldn’t get an easy lay, which hadn’t been the case with me. I could admit that I had used my charms and good genes to charm the opposite sex, but it wasn’t a crime to fuck ‘em and leave ‘em when they themselves didn’t value their bodies, was it? They didn’t even try to downplay and use the old trick of playing hard to get. They simply giggled and took their clothes off without me even asking them.

  They were easy fucks. Plain and simple. Therefore, I didn’t understand why, when a guy declined these so called ‘easy fucks,’ the women instantly became sour and bitchy. I wasn’t sure what they were expecting. Just because a woman had sex with a man, no matter how often or not so often, no party should have any gripes about it when it’s through.

  Shaking my mind from the old, dastardly days, I was ready to call it a night. The thought of Lily sleeping and how much I wanted to feel her warm body against mine was all I needed at the moment.

  Upon taking care of the check, Paul bid us farewell, his car arriving first at the valet. Once he left, it was Katie and I waiting for our turns.

  “This was a good night. Thanks for helping me negotiate your father into the deal.” I was thanking her since she had happened to reason with her father by pointing out the positives and softening the negatives. “Heading home?” It was a question to pass the time while we waited, and since she was going to be working for me for quite some time, I thought it best if I knew more of her life.

  Katie slipped her phone back into her black purse before looking me in the eyes. “There’s this party at the Hills. Why don’t you come and check it out? It’s a good place for prospecting new clients. I heard they have a lot of up-and-coming actors and musicians over there right now.”

  “Ahhh …” I stalled while checking my phone. It was ten past midnight. I supposed it wasn’t all that late, was it? “Okay. Why the hell not?”

  I had taken off my tie and loosened a few buttons, so I was dressed casually, a passable look for a party. Katie, on the other hand, had excused herself prior to exiting the restaurant to take off the fitted top she had inside her white-suited jacket, leaving her skin bared with a substantial amount of cleavage on display, not that I was staring at it. It was hard to ignore when those things were right before you, blatantly on show.

  Checking towards the valet folks before cocking my head to see if any of our cars were coming, I casually asked, “So, uh, how do you have such good party connections?”

  My random question made her grin in a way that was full of backstory innuendoes. “Let’s just say I dated around, and I made quite the stellar contact list.”

  “Smart move.” My tone was full of admiration.

  “Thank you,” she said with a smug smile. “I think so, too.”

  She was a determined woman who had a great head on her shoulders. No one could fault that. Like I had said before, women like Katie would always have a bright future ahead of them. She was in her early twenties and already knew how to work and grind behind the scenes.

  In Hollywood, that killer instinct would get her far. It didn’t hurt that she was also pretty to look at. Let’s get real with the industry here. Hollywood applauded the superficial. The more abhorrent a person got, the more publicity they received. It was a disastrous recipe, rewarding bad behavior with fame.

  Need a boost to become famous? Just release a sex tape.

  Talentless socialite who could still garner profits? Just auto-tune their voice, and voila, you have a music single.

  Washed up celebrity? Do “reality” television.

  Want some hype with your name attached to it? Date someone obscenely rich and famous. Or, the latter option, get plastic surgery or get a DUI. Those mug shot hall of fames give a speedy ticket for tmz to start chatting about you.

  Before I could think more on it, my car was parked right before me.

  “Text me the address. I’ll meet you there.”

  Celebrity parties were always a good hurrah.

  *

  “The last person I thought to see at such parties is actually here. Is this random or are you here for business?” Bass Cole tapped my back, grinning at me like he was wickedly wondering what I was up to.

  “Don’t get any ideas,” I rushed out, hoping he didn’t believe what I thought he was suggesting. That would reflect poorly on me, wouldn’t it? “This is purely business. Anyway, where’s Emma?” Scanning the crowd, the blonde bombshell was nowhere in sight.

  His infectious grin hadn’t gone away. Instead, Bass’s eyes merely glittered. “She’s at home, you know,” he casually said, “being pregnant and all, she needs rest. She insisted that I go out tonight because, according to her, I was becoming a mother hen on speed.”

  “Wait—what?” I gave him a double look. “She’s pregnant? Wow, man. Congratulations!” I meant it wholeheartedly, yet at the same time, I couldn’t help worrying about the movie and how Emma’s pregnancy might affect that.

  “It’s brilliant.”

  I know. I felt that at one point in my life.

  Raising my bottle of beer towards him, I patted his back in return. “That’s good news, Bass. I’m really excited for you both.” Whatever happened with the movie, I was sure we could work around it. Since Emma wasn’t working at the moment, maybe it was possible to shoot as soon as we got a director onboard. Then it could work out for all of us. Yeah, that sounded like it was the best solution, so I best get on this damn thing first thing tomorrow morning.

  “Thanks, man. That means a lot. Most people I told around here looked sorry for me almost ninety-nine percent of the time. I fucking don’t get that. It’s a baby, not fucking Chucky. Well, I hope it’s not.” We laughed before he added, “Emma’s over the moon, and so am I. I can’t wait to be a father. It’s going to be exhausting, as expected, but it’s all going to be worth it.” He was still sporting that whimsical look on his face as he took a drink from his bottle, looking around the vast garden that was filled with people acting like normal party people—drunk, dancing mad, yelling, laughing, screaming, more dancing, and more drinking.

  Drowning in my own thoughts, Bass’s words lingered. He was right. A child made a whole difference to a man’s life. Not only was it an added responsibility, but nurturing, making sure the child was brought up properly, was going to be tough. Nevertheless, the positives outweighed the negatives. If I had my own way, I would have a baby of my own, too. Maybe someday, Lily and I would be granted that joyful news again.

  Funny how life worked. One never really knew how much the value of something was until it was gone. I had to admit, I still mourned for our lost baby, and whenever I got the baby blues, I would console myself into believing that, when the right time came, the magic would happen for us.

  For another hour or so, Bass and I chatted about the movie and our personal lives. Katie had somehow vanished amidst the crowd. Since arriving here, she had basically gone on her merry way while I was left to greet actors and actresses that the company had funded movies for. Whether young or old, I was acquainted with them all.

  As much as I hated to admit it, it was nice to be out. Not particularly socializing, because I was more of the selective type when it came to whom I chose to converse about my personal life, to have another guy talk and relate to about marriage and the new life ahead of us.

  Married life wasn’t for everyone. That saying was very true. If a man wasn’t ready to change his old ways, what was the point of getting married at all? It didn’t matter if the guy in question vowed his love, because love could only stretch so far. It was respect and hard dedication that kept the woman in question happy, and if a man wasn’t ready to go the extra length, the marriage wouldn’t last.

  That was what I had in common with Bass Cole.

  Just a
s Sherman Alexie had written, “He loved her, of course, but better than that, he chose her, day after day. Choice: that was the thing.”

  Chapter 7

  Lily

  “Mmmm,” I murmured upon feeling Drake’s kisses on the back of my neck. I had been a second away from falling into deep coma before he came home and began leaving tender, loving kisses. “How did the dinner go?”

  “It went well …” he said, pausing. “Contracts are to be drawn up first thing tomorrow morning.” He pulled me closer to his naked body. I could feel him getting harder by the second. “How was your day, baby? Missed me at all?”

  I did. Near or far, I always did.

  “Why bother asking a question you already know the answer to, Mr. Tatum?” Sleepy though I was, my body remained effortlessly responsive as it slowly drew to his heat.

  “Lil …” he said with a raspy tone, “I know I don’t say this often, but I just want to tell you, thank you for putting up with my bullshit and hectic lifestyle and for everything else. Thank you for not giving up hope.”

  Biting the bottom of my lip, I took a second to digest what he’d said. Why was he randomly saying thank you at this godforsaken hour?

  “O … kay …” I murmured before giving him a quick, skeptical glance. “Did something happen to you?” There was something in his tone that made me question him.

  He slightly shook his head, giving me a straight look. “Nothing like that—don’t give me that accusing eye!” He immediately went on the defensive. “Is it so bad that I just want to thank my wife for being so great?”

  “Uh … Yeah, it kind of is, Drake.”

  “God, Lily! Okay. Fine. Fine.” He held up his hands, as if surrendering to my interrogation, or maybe he was annoyed that I was pestering him this late at night. “I saw someone from my past tonight, and it made me think that, had you not come back into my life, I’d still be living that kind of life—the disastrous path of partying and woman after woman, thinking and believing that this was the life people coveted the most. It’s superficial, I know, but I didn’t know any better. It was all I knew.”

  Great.

  I nodded, confused as to why he had woken me up. “So … uh … You woke up me to tell me you were walking sex on a stick or that you were a sorry piece of sex god that was bored out of his mind by being surrounded with all these pretty obnoxious women who fawned all over your hot rod?”

  He stared at me like he couldn’t believe what had just came out of his mouth. “You know, I was being serious here, Lil. I just poured my heart and soul into that, and you poked fun, thinking it’s hilarious.”

  I shrugged. “It kind of is. Who cares? I’m sick and tired of your I’m-so-hot-I-can’t-help-it stories.” Feigning a yawn, I raised my brow to goad him further. “Will that be all? Because I’m truly exhausted here, buddy. So, if you have any more of your I’m-part-of-the-hotness-brigade stories, they can wait for tomorrow’s sessions.”

  “Oh, yeah? Hotness brigade, huh?” He cackled before taking one of the goose down feather pillows and chucking it at my head, making me gasp in shock.

  “You!” I screeched, getting on my knees as I returned the favor, hitting him as fiercely as my strength could before laughing incredibly hard because one of the feathers came out of the pillow and decided to sit on the tip of his nose. “Awww, now that’s really adorable.”

  “Come here, woman!” he commanded as I tried to get away from him; however, he was too quick as he grabbed my ankles and pulled me, sliding my body in quick swiftness towards him, eyeing me like I was the best thing since chocolates. “Trying to escape my punishment, aren’t we, Mrs. Tatum?” His eyes danced at me.

  “Can you blame me?” It was hard to even hide my smile from him. I had never felt such happiness and love for one person. It was terrifying. I felt vulnerable that one man held such power over me, yet at the same time, I would die if I dared stopped this overwhelming flow of love I had for him. Do or die, I was his.

  “Hmmm …” he murmured, his eyes wild when he got a thorough view of my small see-through mesh baby doll outfit. “Surprise, surprise. This is a nice present I look forward to unwrapping.”

  Heck, knowing he had dinner with Katie, I had known I better come out with something to veer his mind off other women. It was stupid and moronic on my part to even think that way, but could any woman blame me? If they were in the same situation, they would very well do everything in their power to remind their husbands who they were married to. We all knew that, the moment they started checking out other women, the marriage was doomed. I was aware we’d had a rough start; still, even after what he and I had gone through, I wouldn’t take any chances.

  “What are you waiting for, Drake?” I said. “I’m yours to be devoured.”

  “I normally want to devour you, but tonight, I just want to appreciate you.” His fingers traced the outline of my hardened nipples, teasing. “Show me the world, Lil,” he rasped out as he lowered himself to bite onto my nipple, making me arch my breasts for more of his torture. “I’m going to rock your fucking world.” He wasn’t the kind of man to mince his words, and I liked that very much about him.

  “I dare you to.”

  He snickered, loving the spitfire side of me. “Is that a challenge I hear?” He darkly chuckled before he sexily started licking the bottom of his lip then gradually got off the bed, standing before me like a fucking beast ready to eat me alive. Stretching his neck from side to side, he gave me a hungry look before raised his brow at me. “Well then, let’s not keep you waiting, shall we, Mrs. Tatum?”

  After he shot out the last word, I was instantly flipped onto my stomach then dragged me by my ankle until the insides of my thighs hit against the sides of his legs before pushing my slip up so he could peruse my bottom half.

  “I love it when you sleep without a scrap of hindrance on you, Lil. It fucking gets my cock rock hard and going. But that’s what you’re trying to accomplish, isn’t it, wife?”

  I let out a strangled moan from the mere feathered touch of his exploring hands spreading my ass cheeks apart.

  “Geez, Lil,” he groaned when his thumb penetrated halfway through my wet channel before taking it out. “How is it possible that you’re already coming?” he threw out harshly at me before gradually levering my body to slightly arch up by using both of his hands resting on my back while half of my body was still securely wrapped around his legs. “Look at how much you’re creamin’, babe?” He brought his thumb around to my face so I could see the evidence of my arousal. True enough, there was a faint trace of white amidst the slick clear wetness that soaked his thumb. “Are you this excited for me or for my cock?”

  That was a tricky question.

  “Both?”

  “That worries me,” he grumbled while pressing his cock against the crack of my ass. He gripped my hands harder so my body rubbed against his shaft. “You know why that worries me, dear wife?”

  I shook my head, having no clue as to what he was saying. I was dying from the friction he was giving my body.

  “Can’t talk, can you?” he pressed on, killing me softly. “You see, as much as I love the fact that you never ever say no to me, it makes me wonder if you’re in this just because I fuck you so well, and I mean, I really fucking do you so well. I worry that you love what I can do to your cunt more than you care about how much I love you. Do you get where I’m going here, wife?”

  “S … sure,” I hesitantly said, wondering if he was going to make a point or not. I needed him to get on with this damn torture. I had been waiting all night for this.

  Drake made a dry laugh, as if to say he knew I was lying through my teeth. “Ah, Lil, you’re never going to convince me to fuck you now if you’re not going to get your head out of the gutter.”

  “I’m listening.” I was pretending to, but who cared really?

  “Were you now?” he murmured before taking his cock and teasing me with his head by going in a tad before immediately pulling it out to fl
ick my sensitive clit with it. He repeated this a few more times, and each time, he evoked a yelp of protest from me.

  “Drake!” I shrieked with annoyance and desperation. “If you don’t fuck me now, I swear to God I will not let you enjoy this body for the next ten years. So if you want to play sadistic games with me, tonight’s not the night? Got it, babe?”

  “Jesus. Okay! Okay, Lil.” He surrendered by pounding his cock into me a few times before he set his lips close to my ear, declaring, “I love bossy women, most especially a wife who has her pussy desperately weeping for her husband’s cock.” He delivered his point by driving into me more forcefully, making me shake as it took my breath away before adding, “I tease because I need you to be very aroused, so aroused that you’re going to let me fuck you even though you’re asleep. I won’t stop until the last drop of my nut is disposed of inside your womb.”

  “P-p-please, do,” I stuttered, feeling the brunt of his message as he took my body harder with each thrust. I could feel his cock going into unchartered places inside me. I could feel the weight of his words, needing to drive home the message. I could feel the intensity of his love, showing me a world he and I could make with each other. Making love with him would always be this magical. Even on that first night in Mexico, when he took my virginity, he took me to a place no man ever could. It was only Drake who could make it happen.

  He alone could draw out this wanton side of me, surrendering to him fully.

  All night, just as he vowed, he played with my body until I was going in and out of consciousness from too much pleasure.

  The hunger we had for each other, the magic we made, it was ours and no one had better dare to attempt to take it away. I wouldn’t let them. They could try, I knew they would, but I wouldn’t let any of them win. Because, no matter how much they tried to kill my confidence, when Drake loved me that way, I was left with no choice other than to fight them all with double the tenacity my husband unleashed inside me.