by Lee Piper
“Sure. And I can punch you in the balls while I’m at it.”
The corners of his lips twitch, but other than that, he ignores my jibe. “If you play music from your phone for Mikhail whatever-his-name-is, you’re giving him a recording, not the real thing.”
“I know this already. But like I’ve already told you, recordings are mastered by producers who know what they’re doing.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
Slumping back in my seat, I expel an exasperated groan. “Just tell me already. You know what you wanna say, so say it.”
Leaning forward, he taps the end of my nose. I blink, taken aback by the playful gesture. “Tell me, in your opinion, are recordings as good as live performances?”
Something inside me shifts. A flicker of gentle light glimmers. Softly. Deftly. Tiny yet powerful enough to cast shadows on the walls. “Depends on the performance, I guess,” I return slowly. My eyes dart between Drake’s intense ones. “What are you getting at?”
Opening his arms wide despite the cramped space, Drake grins, gesturing to himself. “You want the best, right?”
The pounding of my heartbeat almost drowns out his words. Almost.
“That’s why I’m here.”
I blink.
“To help you.”
“Wait.” Ignoring the flame that’s growing stronger with each second, I swallow. Then swallow again. Then I lick my lips, because I need to pause time. I want to hold on to the swell of happiness summersaulting in my stomach. “You want to sing? As in live? At the meeting?”
Drake’s grin is so huge, it needs its own entourage. “What better way to get his panties wet than to have the hottest rock vocalist in the country serenading him? Fuck, I’m even offering do it in the comfort of his own office. It’s an opportunity he’d be crazy to pass up.”
Pretty sure my chin is hanging below my knees. Pretty sure my head is trying to process the crazy coming out of his mouth. Pretty sure my body wants to throw itself at him, covering every inch in kisses.
Cocky as all hell, the lead singer continues. “Baby, I’ll get Mikhail so worked up, he’ll be begging for mass production of your speaker and an encore.” He winks. I’m torn between rolling my eyes and launching myself at him. Both have their benefits. But only one has his hands all over me as I do it.
Hunger must show on my expression, because Drake’s charismatic smirk deepens. “Trust me, no one can resist the Drake Stone charm.”
The driver snorts.
I feel you, buddy.
Chapter Twelve
Despite knowing it’s a great idea, I still need time to process Drake’s offer. I mean, what he’s offering is massive. Really fucking massive. If his vocals are amplified through my speaker, not only will the sound be amazing, but he’ll be endorsing my product. Putting his name to it. That’s a big freaking deal.
However, as much as I’d love to go all in, I need to think of the possible consequences. I mean, what if it all goes to shit? What if my speaker doesn’t work or isn’t up to par? If that happens, I would have ruined my chances with Mikhail and made Drake look like an ignorant fool in the process.
I can’t do that, not to him. “Drake….” I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
“It’s a lot to think about.”
“No, it’s not.”
Gritting my teeth, I glare at him. “Will you shut up for a minute?”
He cups the side of my neck, thumb digging into my raging pulse. “No can do. The more you think, the more time you have to come up with reasons to back out. Not gonna let that happen.”
I pause, taking in his features. His expression is layered, a visual interplay of humor-mixed seriousness. There’s something underpinning the crinkles bracketing his eyes and the plumpness of his lips. I’ve never seen it before, not from someone who isn’t family. So, as my gaze darts between his, it’s difficult to tell if I’m reading him right. “Why do I feel like you’re not talking about the meeting anymore?”
He shrugs but remains quiet.
I take in the tight jaw and the pulse hammering below it. It’s hard trying to gauge what’s going on inside his head. As much as I’d like a manual complete with carefully labelled diagrams and color-coded lists, it’s a beautifully contradictory man who stares back. Strangely, despite his expression being, as always, multifaceted, there’s something within it I can identify.
And that’s when it hits me.
It’s as though a door swings wide open and smacks me square in the temple.
Holy shit. Everything makes sense now. The opposing behaviors, the darkness lurking beneath the bright façade. Drake is a complex guy. So complex, it’s taken me ages to figure him out.
“Oh,” I breathe, taking in every part of him. And when I look at the man before me, through a different lens this time, the world makes a heck of a lot more sense.
Drake swallows. White front teeth scrape his full bottom lip as he watches me. “What?”
“You feel everything, don’t you?”
He blinks, shocked, yet an undercurrent of relief softens his features.
“You feel everything on a larger scale. Emotions are always warring inside you, forcing you to experience polar opposite spectrums at the same time. That’s why you can switch between staring at me like I’m your next meal, to almost killing Ray, and all without breaking a sweat.” Pausing, I tip my head to one side. “Both emotions run concurrently inside you. No wonder you laugh so hard, fight so rough, and fuck so well. You’re the physical manifestation of a crucible.”
My pulse thunders against his thumb. He presses against it, harder, almost brutally. Black pupils dilate on my soft exhale.
“That’s why you sing every word like it’s a living memory. So you can be in control of one emotion as you relive it. Must be a relief, huh? To experience only one set of feelings at a time.” With a small smile, I shake my head, marveling at the crisp image the life-size puzzle reveals as I piece it all together. “I’ve always wondered why you buried yourself so deeply into your songs.”
“Now you know.”
I skim the tips of my fingers down the side of his face, loving how the lines and contours meet my touch. “Finally,” I whisper. “I see you.”
His hand slips to the back of my neck, holding me firm while his free hand cups the side of my face. “And I see you. Always have.”
Panic and elation tangle knots in my stomach.
“I see the woman you are, the woman you want to be. I see how you fight every fucking day to realize your potential.” Leaning forward, he drops his forehead until it rests against mine. “And do you wanna know what else?”
He’s asked me this question so many times. In each instance, I didn’t want to know the answer because it was always a truth I wasn’t ready for. Even though I’m not sure I’m ready to hear it now, I want to know what he’s going to say. So, my tongue darts out, licking my dry lips. “What, ace?”
His hand slips into my hair. The strands fall through his fingers until he grips them tight in a fist, forcing my head back and my mouth to be offered up as sacrifice. “You’re it for me.”
Without another word, he dips his head and claims my mouth. Full lips own mine, turning my body into a sparking live wire. On a desperate moan, I open for him, needing more. Always more.
Drake’s tongue teases my lips, delves into my mouth, and skims my teeth. He explores every inch, reclaiming ownership of what I’ve kept hidden from him.
It’s almost impossible to keep up with his desperate assault, but somehow, I manage. Together, we hum, groan, writhe. We pull at each other, forcing the heat between us to smolder with every grasping touch and muttered curse.
My fingers clasp Drake’s biceps. They scrape his shoulders, traverse his neck, before thrusting into his hair. With a yank, my fist tugs down on unruly waves. Sharp teeth bite my tongue in response. I gasp, pulling away slightly, the metallic taste of blood flooding my mouth.
“You might not like how I prove that you’re mine,” his kiss-roughened voice rumbles against my swollen lips. It’s so low and gravelly, I can feel it in my toes. “You might say I’m goin’ behind your back and makin’ bad decisions on your behalf. But know this.” He stops, blue eyes piercing mine. “Everything I do, every fucking thing I’ve done, is for you. Only you.”
RIP heart.
It had a short life, was broken more times than not, but now it’s in a better place.
“Drake.” I don’t know what I’m asking. Whether it’s for him to take back what he’s said or to return the tattered remains of my heart so I can show how they beat solely for him. Either way, when Drake looks at me like he’s been cast adrift and I’m the North Star leading him home, a sensation so complete, so resolute, literally robs me of breath.
I’m in love.
Whoa.
Holy. Fucking. Whoa.
No, it can’t be. I’ve spent most of my adult life running from any form of connection with anyone to prevent me from feeling what’s coursing through my veins right now. After all, if I don’t experience love, I won’t miss it when it’s gone. And love always ends, in one way or another. Life has taught me that.
And yet…. When Drake’s eyes claim mine, when his hands own my body, when his lips demand everything I have in me to offer, the inevitable loss is worth it. If, for a moment, a brief, beautiful moment, I’m lucky enough to feel this alive, then…. Fuck. I really am in love.
I’m not sure what shows on my face. Whether it’s terror, excitement, or a mixture of both, but something must transform my features. Drake’s gaze turns almost feral the longer he stares. He knows. He freaking knows.
On a deep growl, he kisses me. It’s brutal this time. His tongue swoops inside my mouth and owns every inch of my soul. Lips crash, teeth clash, fingers bite and scratch. Desperation motivates every animalistic grunt, groan, and whimper.
“Get your ass over here,” he mutters, wrenching me onto his lap until my legs straddle his hips. “Ride me. Take what you fucking need. You know I’ll give it to you.”
Even though the poor driver can probably hear us, Drake doesn’t have to ask twice. Despite my jeans and his, I thrust forward and back, needing the pleasure he’s offering. With my hands wrapped around his neck and forehead pressed against his, I writhe and moan, dry humping the hard length of his cock. “Yes.”
Drake grunts. Spreading his legs, he forces mine wider. With a flick of his fingers, the top button of my jeans is undone. With a quick tug, the zipper is wrenched open. With more dexterity than I can ever give him credit for, he slides his hand beneath the lace of my thong and cups me.
“Oh God,” I murmur against his open mouth.
“Christ, you’re so fucking wet.”
“I need you inside me, Drake.”
He slips two fingers into my pussy, groans when my juices coat them, then starts pumping.
Throwing my head back, I bite my bottom lip to stop the carnal cry that threatens.
“So fucking gorgeous,” he mutters. “So fucking mine.” With his free hand, Drake grips the back of my head and pulls me to him. Our noses touch, our eyes swim with the vision of each other, and our heated breaths combine. “Say it.”
It takes a moment to process what he’s asking. In my defense, I’m on the verge of an epic orgasm. I’d have trouble remembering what color hair I have. But the cogs in my mind slowly kick in, forcing the sensation-fueled fog to part. Licking my lips, I hold his face in my hands. “I’m yours.”
“Only mine.”
A smile teases the corners of my mouth at the hint of vulnerability in his gaze. There’s something about seeing this man brought to his knees that makes me feel beyond powerful. “Only yours.”
“Always.”
I pause. Uncertainty floods my subconscious, cooling the heat that breathed fire seconds ago. “Always doesn’t exist,” I whisper against his mouth. “I’ve never seen it. I’ve only seen broken moments and shattered hearts.”
Drake’s thumb presses down on my swollen clit. On a silent moan, I writhe against it, craving the building tension flooding my core. “Say it,” he orders.
“Can’t.” A whimper escapes. Rolling my hips, I try to chase the looming release. It’s so close, I can feel it. My body is tensing, preparing for the euphoric fall.
Drake’s stops my movements with his free hand. “Say it.”
I glare. “Quit playing me, Drake.”
“Princess.” He pinches my swollen flesh. My eyes roll back in my head. “I’ll play you all goddamn day. You’re mine, remember?”
“I hate you so much right now.”
“No, you don’t. You hate admitting the truth. Most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.” His thumb brushes against my clit. I’m so desperate to come, I want to scream. My body is thrumming, my heart is screaming, my head is cursing. So yeah, frustration about nails it. “I won’t admit a lie. Always doesn’t exist.”
“Does with us.” With a slow, deliberate sweep, he circles my clit. Tremors of need rush from my center, wave after wave of desire builds, grows, becomes stronger and stronger. It’s a tidal wave ready to peak, then crash.
Drake stops.
He motherfucking stops.
I’m going to cry.
“Say it.”
“Drake,” I whimper. Yep, this is what I’ve been reduced to. A girl literally crying over a lost orgasm. “Please.”
“Shh,” he croons against my mouth, his tongue darting out to lick my bottom lip. “I’ve got you.”
“You don’t. You’re playing me. You’ll keep playing me. This will all go to shit, and I’ll be left to pick up the pieces.”
A warm hand cups the back of my neck. “I’ve got you,” he repeats, his tone firm. “Always.”
I blink, forcing the tears stinging my eyes to stay the hell away. Then, in a voice so small it’s barely a whisper, I ask, “Promise?”
Pillow-soft lips press against mine. “Promise.”
I let out a shaky breath I didn’t even know I was holding. Drake’s declaration brings with it so much relief, I feel a ton lighter. “Okay, then.”
He grins. Tipping his head to the side, he quirks an eyebrow. “So….”
After rolling my eyes, I mutter in a monotone, “Fine. I’ll always be yours too.” Then, looking away, I mumble, “So damn needy.”
Drake chuckles. “That’s my girl.” And his thumb starts up again.
I groan. Louder than before. It’s then I realize the driver has had to listen to us getting our freak on. Poor guy. Zeke should pay him double. The pity I feel for the driver isn’t enough for me to stop though. Hell no. He can turn up the music, wind down the window, or something.
My man’s about to own me. “Drake.” My hips pump in time with his movements. “I’m so close.”
Faster and faster Drake’s thumb swoops. His fingers pump. The combination is enough to leave me light-headed and panting. “Shit, I’m going to—”
Throwing my head back, I surrender to one of the most powerful orgasms I’ve ever experienced. Wave upon wave of ecstasy floods my senses. Pleasure, so acute it’s almost painful, overtakes my body as I convulse around Drake’s fingers.
“Goddamn,” he groans.
When I finally come down from the mother of all highs, it’s to witness Drake worshipping me with his eyes. They’re wide, soft, so full of love I can barely stand it.
Not wanting to ruin the moment by speaking, I duck my head. With a deep chuckle, he slips his hand from beneath my thong. I straighten my jeans and do them up while sneaking looks at him, trying to gage where to go from here. I mean, it’s not as though I’ve had experience with this shit before. The closest I’ve ever come to a long-term relationship is with Pop-Tarts.
As though sensing my confusion and finding it comical, Drake smirks. He watches me, raising his hand to his mouth before licking his fingers clean.
Christ, that’s hot.
A low moan sounds. I think
it’s me. Shifting in his lap, I inadvertently rub against his still-hard cock. I bite my lip, enjoying the way Drake’s eyes smolder when I do. “Want me to…?” I indicate to the obvious bulge in his jeans.
Drake’s grin widens. However, before I can do anything about it, there’s a tap at the window.
“The fuck?” I stare at Drake, he stares at me. Twisting on his lap, I glance in the direction of the driver’s seat. It’s empty. Which must mean—
“We’re here.”
I shift until I’m facing Drake again “Huh. I didn’t notice the car stop. Did you?”
Drake raises a pointed eyebrow. “I was busy.”
The nerves from earlier reform in my stomach. I swallow. It’s difficult. It’s as though someone has shoved all of their kitchen utensils down my throat and then expects me to sing. My heart pounds against my chest, desperate to jump ship and find someone else to inhabit. Someone who isn’t about to put their life on the line in the name of following their dreams.
Can’t say I blame it.
A not-so-subtle cough sounds from outside.
I clench my eyes shut, wanting to remain in the car with Drake. We’re safe here. There’s no outside world, no Collector hunting me down, no Mikhail judging my work, no Zeke demanding I perform. There’s simply us. Everything I need.
Warm lips press against my forehead, my nose, and finally my mouth. There, they linger. One heartbeat. Two. By the time I count to five, they move away again, the air cooling my heated skin.
Blinking my eyes open, I take in the man before me. He’s so beautiful it hurts.
“Come on.” He carefully places me on the seat next to him, his playful smirk back in place. “As much as I want your lips on my cock, I want you to win this contract more.” With a grimace, he straightens his jeans. “Fuck, I’m hard.” Then, turning to face me, he pins me with a loaded stare. “You owe me.”
The smile is on my face before I register it happening. How does he do it? How does he take my tension and turn it into something else so easily?
I don’t get a chance to ponder those questions, because the car door opens and sunlight streams inside, filling the dark cabin with brightness. Drake turns to me. “Ready?”