Slow Dancing (The Second Chances Series Book 4)

by Isobelle Cate

  Drake took stock of the vehemence and the marrow-deep hurt rising and filling in. His jaw hardened as he tried to swallow the anguish blooming like blood seeping out from a gaping wound. He took a deep breath to hold his emotions in check.

  Truth was that a part of him understood she had to move on. The other half of him didn’t because he wanted to be that man for her. He had tied Bethany’s image tightly with the ropes of the past, believing she wouldn’t be able to move forward without him. That she’d wait for him.

  Which was un-fucking-reasonable. The world didn’t revolve around him or Bethany. It just kept spinning. It was not built to stop.

  He had looked forward to getting back to her as soon as possible. He couldn’t wait for the caucus with the other Bridgewater men to finish. Now, he just wanted to walk away from the only woman he wanted, take stock of what just happened because Bethany hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him about Amara.

  Ahh fuck…Who was he to demand that she wait for him anyway? He was the one who had to leave.

  Jealousy flared for the man who had the privilege of giving Bethany what he could not when their lives veered away from each other. But Drake took comfort in knowing that someone had given her happiness when he could not. So Bethany had someone then. End of. She was with him now and that’s what he had to protect and nurture.

  Drake’s train of thought was jarred when someone took his hand and shook it until he thought his arm was going fall out of shoulder socket. He looked at Amara’s guileless and expectant face.

  “I’m so pleased to meet you,” Amara had a wide grin, her words coming out in a rush.

  His melancholic thoughts reluctantly took a back seat at Amara’s enthusiasm. He didn’t know whether to snicker or frown. He did both.

  “Amara.” Bethany looked as though she wanted to be anywhere but here. She was beautiful when she blushed, the colour enhancing her face. It was the same colour she had on her body at the height of ecstasy when they had been together when she rode him.

  Rosen! Mind. Out. of. the. gutter.

  “I’ve heard so much about you.” Amara continued not paying heed.

  Bethany groaned covering her flushed face with both hands. The brown Tex-Mex restaurant bag was still suspended on her left hand.

  Drake’s lips curled to a slow smile, slowly easing the doubts that taunted him a while ago.

  “So much about me?”

  “Oh God, kill me now,” Bethany muttered, spinning way from them.

  “Mum! Don’t be so dramatic.” Amara stopped her, her face contorting in dismay. She back down. Even in the dim light, Drake saw her face colour the same way as her mother’s before she turned back to assure him. “They’re all good.”

  Drake suppressed his chuckle. “I think you’ve done more than enough to make your mum wish I wasn’t here.”

  Panic flared in Amara’s eyes. “Oh no. Oh Mum. I’m sorry.”

  “Amara. Stop. It’s okay.” Bethany rubbed her daughter’s shoulder reassuringly. She sighed. “When will you ever learn?”

  Drake became uncomfortable. He was intruding on something indirectly involving him. That Bethany had been thinking about him was a balm but her obvious discomfort was something he didn’t want to prolong. He took a step back and looked away. His mind said he should just go. His heart couldn’t make him move anywhere but where he was now. The irrational fear that he might lose Bethany again kept rearing its ugly mug.

  He watched mother and child. At one time there was nothing more he wanted than to be held in his mother’s arms and his fears soothed the way Bethany did Amara’s. Amara’s devil may care attitude sprinkled with a dash of remorse reminded him of his younger self.

  He might just get to like this kid with whom he’d have to share Bethany’s affections.

  “Have you eaten?” Bethany turned to him. “We’re on our way home to eat.” She lifted the Tex Mex brown paper bag.

  “Yeah.” His hand massaged the back of his neck. Damn, he was tired, the adrenalin of the last three days running low. “How are you getting home?”

  “Bus. Didn’t feel like driving.”

  “I’ll take you home.” He nudged his head towards the direction of the car park building.

  “You know where we live?” Amara tilted her head to this side of curiosity.

  Drake didn’t glance at Bethany. He was attuned enough to see she was uncomfortable. His mouth quirked in a congenial smile.

  “I took your mum home when Joe was still in the hospital.”

  Bethany’s glare was enough to stab him several times in the back. What else could he say? That their night of sex was a film spooling over and over again inside his mind? He had enough decency not to corrupt a minor.

  Amara shrugged. Then she looked down. “Wish I’d been here. I could have looked after Grandad after school.”

  “Where were you?”

  They started walking towards the car park.

  “School trip in France.” Amara fell into step. “Hey, mind if you took me to my grandparents’ home? I’m staying there while Grandad’s recovering.”

  Drake grinned at Bethany’s helpless stare. “Sure, I’ll drop you off first.”

  The ride was filled with Amara’s chatter. Drake kept looking at his rearview mirror to talk to Amara when his senses were attuned to Bethany sitting in the passenger seat. The perfume she used was reminiscent of their night. He had licked her sweat, tasting the tang of the floral fruity notes and the dainty saltiness of her skin. He longed to comb his fingers through her hair just like he did after they both came a third time. He missed having her body flushed against his, her head on his chest, her arm around his waist and her thigh over his leg while they slept. And when they spooned and her sweet ass cradled his cock, he’d slip inside her from behind moving them both in a slow burn ending in a sweet release. The thought made his slacks uncomfortably tight.

  Amara gave him directions to her grandparents’ house, calling Cora after to let her know she was on her way home. When the car stopped, she embraced her mother from the back seat.

  “Bye, Mum. I’ll see you tomorrow. Nice getting to know you, Drake.”

  “Same here.” He nudged his chin.

  Rain began to pour in fat drops. Drake waited until Amara waved and was safely inside the house before he eased back into the street.

  “She’s a handful, isn’t she?” he murmured.

  Bethany turned her head marginally towards him. “Yes, she can be.”

  Outside the rain fell in torrents. Her house was five blocks away. Drake turned into the driveway behind her car and shut down the engine. He faced her, one arm bent over the steering wheel, the other extended on the backrest of her seat that his fingers were able to touch and play with the shoulder of her coat.

  “Bethany…I wanted to call ˗˗˗”

  She turned on a mega-watt smile at him that rendered him speechless. Drake wanted to wipe off the skeptical amusement that lurked in her beautiful eyes. And hurt. He wanted to soothe her with his arms, his body.

  “You don’t need to explain. It was a booty call we both needed.”

  He hissed a breath. His chuckle whistled out of him. Was she fucking with him? “A booty call? You were not just a booty call.”

  She exhaled. “Think what you like Drake.” She unbuckled her seat belt.

  “Think what I like?” His hand shot out to grip her arm. He pulled her back. Bethany suddenly tensed and he let go, his palm facing her. “Okay, I’ll think what I like. I like thinking about fucking you so hard I won’t be able to stand up and you’re so sore you can hardly walk. I like thinking about making love to you, filling you with my cock our hips slow dancing until you beg me to make you scream and I will make you come until the only word you’ll remember is my name.”

  Bethany’s breath hitched even has she rubbed her forearm. Her eyes darkened, her lust blatant. Drake’s cock was getting angry not seeing any action. The pain in the lower part of his belly was proof enough.


  She was fucking addictive.

  “I like to think about licking you like you were my own special ice cream. I like to think about tasting you, like you were my exclusive hors d’ouvres. I like thinking about my mouth on your tits, my tongue licking and fucking your pussy and I’d rim your ass and plug you with my thumb like you were my own rare wine reserve.”

  “Drake.” Her eyes closed, her breathing erratic. The rain beat down harder around them locking them inside in the swirl of desire.

  “Oh yes, Bethany,” his voice harsh, his need tangible. “Soon, I’m going to have that sweet ass of yours. And I will fuck it hard. Your pussy will love me. Your ass will crave me. But not once were you ever a booty call.”

  Fuck, his cock was about to rip his zipper off.

  “Drake…stop.”

  A slow grin sidled up his mouth.

  “Why Bee?” His gaze lowered to Bethany’s mouth. Her face was more beautiful as desire transformed it. She was no longer breathing. She was panting. “Why do you want me to stop when I bet you’re soaking wet. Hmmm…Your pussy, baby, has a date with my face.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Bethany moaned, squirming. Her mouth only inches away, her eyes lowered to his mouth before looking up again at him.

  “Because I missed you. Because I want you. Because I’m sorry I didn’t call. Because I belong to you.” Drake eased on the ardour, his tone gentler. “If you’ll have me. Just like I want you to belong to me. It has always been us Bethany. Always. You can refute it all you want but no amount of denial will change that.”

  Drake moved in and leaned his forehead on hers just as she was about to turn her face away. A deep sigh left Bethany’s lips.

  “But Amara—”

  “Is your daughter, who is as beautiful as you are,” he said kissing her cheek while his hand snaked around the back of her neck. His dick twitched when she moaned. “She will always be a part of you. Someone I’m already liking. And she talks a lot. I couldn’t get a word in.”

  Bethany’s soft laugh wormed its way into his heart and sent a velvet caress over his groin.

  “I thank the man who gave Amara to you.”

  Bethany tensed. “Drake—”

  “I’ll admit I wished I had been him,” Drake pressed. “But I can see that Amara has given you so much happiness. I’m glad there was someone for you when I wasn’t there.”

  Bethany’s eyes filled up. “Please don’t make me cry.”

  “I’m never going to make you cry again, Bee,” he murmured. His lips caressed her cheek, her jaw, and up to her ear. “I will never leave you ever again either. Push me away. I’ll come back. Push me harder, a boomerang is the least of your problems.”

  She laughed softly.

  He pulled away. “Unless you tell me you want me gone.”

  Bethany shook her head. She moved her cheek against his and Drake closed his eyes at the softness of her skin against the roughness of his jaw. His chest expanded when Bethany’s lips inched toward his.

  “So again, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I would have if it weren’t for something I’ve had to fix these last few days, but you were never far from my mind. I made a promise a long time ago and I sure as hell am going to keep it.”

  Drake had enough. Talking was for negotiating. He needed to feel Bethany’s soft lips on his, feel her dainty tongue swipe against his so the sensation lit the match inside him and he could forget everything around them.

  He leaned forward and gripped her firmly at the back of her neck as his mouth descended. His pulse thundered. Bethany’s lips were as soft and sweet as he remembered. Fire, sharp and hot coursed through his veins at the sounds coming from her throat before she opened to let him in. She played, teased, followed his lead and she did it so well, Drake became heady with lust. Groaning, he encircled her waist with his arm and drew her closer then swore at the coat she wore. With a growl, he unbuttoned Bethany’s coat, impatient to put his hand on her bare skin. He dragged her sweater, his hand crawling upward curving over her ribcage and hissed.

  “Fuck, you’re not wearing a bra,” he groaned. “Why aren’t you wearing a bra?”

  Bethany’s strangled cry pumped more blood into his cock the minute he raised her sweater and took her nipple into his mouth while he rubbed his palm against her other breast. His eyes closed the moment Bethany’s fingers ran through his hair, his skin breaking into gooseflesh. Pre-cum seeped into his boxers.

  Heaven.

  “Bee,” he growled.

  Her body moved underneath his mouth. He stopped sucking. He realised what she was doing and helped her remove her arms from her coat and take off her cable knit.

  Drake’s heart was in his throat. His hands ran over her breasts, her skin quivering under his palms. He kissed her once more, demanding her surrender. He lifted his head and angled his head differently to deepen the kiss. He moved across and over releasing the lever so the back rest fell backwards.

  “Yes…” he hissed before he went back to her breasts.

  “Drake,” she gasped. “We can…the house.”

  “Give me a break, baby. I’m hungry.”

  She moaned when his hand moved from her waist down to the button of her jeans. She shucked them off her hips, taking off her shoes before removing her jeans. His fingers trailed lower finding her wet heat.

  “Ohhh.” Bethany bucked her hips against his hand grinding against her pussy. She fumbled for his cock in return.

  Blood roared in Drake’s ears as Bethany’s fingers closed around and rubbed his cock through his slacks.

  “Drake,” she panted. “I can’t wait.”

  “Next time baby. Tonight I want you to scream for me.”

  He moved her panties to one side, playing with Bethany’s sopping slit before playing with her clit and inserting a finger inside her. Bethany bucked on a gasp. Her eyelids lowered, but Drake felt the heat of desire rising in her eyes. He inserted a second finger. Bethany’s back arched as she squeezed his fingers.

  “Oh God, yes…”

  Fuck it, Bethany was going to kill him with the sounds she was making. She gripped his wrist then slammed her other hand against the door. Her whimpers increased.

  His fingers went in and out, in and out, then stayed while his thumb rubbed at her clit.

  “Oh Drake…shit…” her whimpers were intensifying. “I need…please…I need to come.”

  He twisted his fingers and hooked them against that part inside that would push her over the edge.

  “That’s it baby.” He flicked faster. Bethany’s cries became louder. “Come…come for me Bee. I want you to scream.”

  Drake’s fingers gained momentum. His fingers were soaked. He couldn’t stop himself. He bent down and placed his mouth on her, his tongue flicking her clit while his fingers continued to piston in and out of her.

  Bethany screamed, her climax bouncing off the car’s confines.

  Drake closed his eyes as her pussy clamped around his fingers. Joy seared through his heart knowing he gave her what she needed. He licked, sucked, and kissed her clit. His fingers slackened their pace as he guided her gently back down. Bethany’s body gradually relaxed and her breathing slowed.

  Drake trailed his tongue upward. He trailed open mouth kisses against her belly, her ribcage, dropping wet kisses on her puckered nubs before nuzzling her neck ending with a gentle kiss on her mouth. Bethany gently cupped his face and swiped her tongue against his.

  “You were always the one I wanted,” he mumbled against her mouth. “You were always mine.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Bethany no longer knew what was up or down.

  She had lost her voice and lost the ability to think after Drake’s mind blowing finger fuck. Her brain was mush…like carrot and swede mush. Her body was a melted mass of bliss with shards of electricity still firing ecstasy from the pit of her belly to tingle up her spine. It spread warmth and burned away doubt in its wake. Even with her body partially exposed, the foreplay kept her warm
.

  She rolled to her side, a hum coming from her throat. She continued rubbing Drake’s hard on, her lips curving at the sounds he made. Her other hand curled around his neck bringing his mouth down to hers once more. She needed Drake. She wanted him again. And again. And again. Until he imprinted himself in her heart.

  “Drake, come inside.” She looked up at his darkened brown eyes that heated her body wherever he looked.

  “You don’t even have to ask.” He smiled against her lips. He righted himself and helped her bring her cable knit down over her body. “Your body is going to be the temple I worship tonight.”

  Shivers of delight made her skin break into goose bumps. Her nipples puckered and heat throbbed once more between her legs. She grabbed her jeans before righting her coat. Drake’s gaze heated.

  “Hassle to put it on again,” she said, her mouth twitching.

  Outside the rain continued to pour. As though she knew what Drake was thinking, she gave him one determined look before they both opened their doors and sprinted to the house laughing as the rain pelted them. The solitary lamplight beside the door gave Bethany enough illumination to insert the key. Shaking off the droplets from her hair, she turned the doorknob. Drake’s arms encircled her waist from behind and his erection kept bumping her ass.

  “From now on, you’re not leaving your key under the vase” Drake growled against her neck causing shivers of delight to course down her back and spread across her sex.

  “It’s a pretty safe neighbourhood.” She reasoned. The door opened and they spilled into the foyer, laughing once more. Drake went back out again and took the key from under the vase.

  “No more,” he said softly. His tone suddenly menacing. “You don’t even have a decent alarm, Bee. Don’t set yourself up for a home invasion.”

  Fear and excitement made for a heady cocktail. Drake looked so ominous, raw and dangerous that she felt protected from whatever evil dared penetrate this cocoon. The thought that Drake was there to make damn sure she was safe just ramped up her hunger for this handsome man facing her. God, why did he have to be so sexy?