Burn With Me: New Adult Romance (Take Me Home Book 1) (Take Me Home Series)

by SJ Cavaletti

  And I watched her. I watched how she moved like a blackbird. Her hair swished, catching any air around it, floating on it. Her lips moved as if every word was a song.

  “Bra,” Koa snapped me out of my daydream, or maybe it was a night dream, it was dark outside after all. “I’m going to hit the sack. This boy is tired.”

  “Long days,” I said.

  “Yup. And long nights, too.”

  Jasmine noticed Koa making a move. “You going, Koa?”

  “Mmmm.”

  “Oh, I should head out as well,” she said to Maeve, her new bestie, “I’m going to the women only cycle tomorrow. Wanna come with me?”

  I smiled to myself thinking about my little sister, making friends.

  “I totally want to do that!” Maeve said, that whimsical enthusiasm returning.

  “Awesome!”

  She stood up and hugged Maeve, then pulled back to say, “See you tomorrow. It starts from G and January at two pm. It might be hard to see each other in the crowd so if we don’t see each other early on, just wait until everyone bikes off. We can go last.”

  “It’s a plan,” Maeve said, hugging her again.

  For the slightest moment, I wished I would go with them. Even though it was women-only. Then I remembered. I needed time to write this song. I only had three more days. And time was condensed here at Uyu. Hours passed as minutes and minutes as seconds. I knew it wouldn’t be long before we’d be at that clock tower together on Saturday.

  Koa and Jasmine closed the door behind them. El, still out with the others, meant that for the first time since meeting, Maeve and I were totally alone. Behind closed doors.

  I slid down the length of the bench to sit next to her. “Did you have fun tonight?”

  “Yeah. Actually, I think wearing this,” she pulled at the red leotard but the fabric was impossibly tight so she grasped at nothing, “It kinda brought out my alter ego.”

  She spoke slowly, smiling, eyes heavy with gin and joy.

  “So what do you call your alter ego then?” I asked. “Should we name her?”

  She smiled. “Okay. Hmmm.”

  She put her finger on her cheek and thought. So adorable. So goddamn adorable to see her this way. The preoccupation of life, of her Dad, completely gone. She looked so innocent.

  “How about…” I slid a little closer, “How about ‘Dark Fairy?’”

  “Dark Fairy? Mmm. I kinda like that.”

  “It’s how I thought of you. Before I knew your name.”

  Her thick, long eyelashes bobbed up and down and I was so close to her now I swore I could feel them fanning me.

  “In my head, from the minute I saw you, you were like this mysterious, pixie like woman. Your hair, your look, your perfect skin so untouched by the sun, or even makeup. You seemed otherworldly.”

  She grew bashful and in body language, that’s an invitation.

  “I like that,” she said, trying not to pull away from my face getting ever nearer, so close when we moved our lips they brushed up against one another.

  “I could be a dark fairy,” she whispered, the words hardly making it out as her mouth wondered.

  I slid my hand slowly from the side of her ribcage, down her torso, feeling the smooth, tight fabric on my hand, wanting to tug it off but forcing patience into my fingers. My hand settled on her waist and I pulled her in.

  “Do you want to kiss me?” I asked, needing to be sure it wasn’t just the liquor.

  She moved herself even closer, “Yes.”

  I closed my eyes and moved closer. Running my nose from her ear along her cheek, I stopped where my lips reached the corner of hers. Teasing mine on the edge of her mouth, I felt her breath quicken, but apart from that, she was still. I squeezed her waist. So small, only a handful.

  She moved her head slowly up and down, forcing a caress between the corner of her mouth and my lips, she finally turned her face so that our lips brushed across each other and aligned. She bit her bottom lip and then, she kissed me.

  She was soft as velvet and warm. Blood gushed into my dick as she put her tongue in my mouth and twirled it slowly. The kiss grew like a crescendo in a symphony, louder, more powerful. Our hands moved around each other's cores. She tore at my pecs and pulled my hips toward her.

  Romance gave way to impatience.

  She climbed on top of me, straddling me. My hard cock pushed painfully against my pants, wanting desperately to touch the red strip of fabric covering her pussy.

  I had watched that fabric all night. Twisting, gyrating as she had danced and moved herself to the rhythms of the night. On the ladder.

  She pressed her body against mine, my chest naked as she pushed off my vest, that lycra on her body so thin I could feel her nipples right through it when she pushed into me.

  We kissed madly, like we had been waiting far longer than four days for this.

  She reached down and unbuttoned my pants, shoved her hands inside and lifted me up by the balls, allowing my dick some relief from the bondage of all that leather. Her hand rubbed up and down along my boxers, fuck did I want her to put her fingers inside them and grab hold of my skin, touch the tip that now exploded with pressure from seeing this sexy one-in-a-million flower of the desert.

  I stopped kissing her, for the only reason anyone would. “Do you want to go to the bedroom?”

  “Do you have a condom?”

  I shook my head ‘yes.’

  She tugged at my lips with her own and whispered, “Yes.”

  I lifted her up, still wrapped around my waist, and walked us to my room. At the edge of the bed, I set her down gently and then knelt in front of her, her legs wide open, me between them.

  She was so small that even on my knees we were level; she pressed her legs together against my sides and shuffled her pussy toward me, pressing that teasing sliver of red against my abs. She rubbed herself in circles, heat blasting out like the rim of a volcano.

  My hands slid upward to her shoulders, I pulled the straps down, kissing her skin, sliding the suit downward until her tits popped out. Pert breasts, the perfect handful. Her nipples small, tight and ready to be nibbled. My lips found them and I took one inside my mouth, running my tongue in a circle around it. They were hard and ready.

  Just like me.

  She took over, taking her hands she tugged at the sides of the leotard to pull it down and I took my chance to grab a condom from my toiletry bag sitting on the nightstand.

  I unwrapped it while I watched the red fabric pet her skin as it dripped down her sides, finally revealing what I so wanted to see in that shower. What I so wanted to touch while another person bathed her and I wished it could have been me.

  Rolling on the condom, she touched herself; her legs still wide open, I wanted to watch her have a play as much as I wanted to do it for her. But my dick wasn’t waiting. It was hard. It was ready, and it acted on its own.

  Reaching around, I pulled her ass with both hands to the edge of the bed, then let my fingers have a little feel of her wetness. Snaking a finger down along her clit, she shivered, closed her eyes and arched her back. I put a finger inside her, so wet, so warm, so tight.

  She took my finger in her hand and pulled it up to lick it. Then, she reached down, grabbed my cock in her hand and pulled it toward her pussy, guiding until I finally pressed it in and she took in a sharp breath.

  I knew I was big. And she was small. She heaved, trying to relax herself, and I pushed myself in as deep as I could go. Her hips pushed toward me, grinding, loving the pleasure pain of being stretched to the limit.

  God, she felt good. I thrusted, in and out, she wrapped her arms around my sides, her pussy getting wetter, I could feel her juices drip down onto my balls, finally she laid back on the bed, throwing her hands up, surrendering to me.

  I held her ass so that not an inch of her body could escape me as I pushed in and out, my dick growing harder with every moment until that feeling of not being able to take it arrived and I exploded insi
de her. As it did, she gave out a gasp, come like a waterfall down her ass.

  I pumped more slowly, her breath giving in, slowing, coming back to reality. Pulling myself out, I couldn’t help but bend over and lick her clit, pulling some of her heavenly come into my mouth, a taste that delighted my senses.

  Crawling up from my knees, I joined her on the bed where she panted. I nestled alongside her, draping an arm over her tummy.

  “Drake…”

  “Mmm?”

  “I needed that.”

  An involuntary chuckle blew from my mouth. “That’s a funny thing to say and at the same time, I totally get it.”

  “Yeah,” she took her fingers and glided them along my arm, making me feel wanted, “I don’t usually go gaga for guys, but you’re damn hot. I’ve been thinking about this all day. That’s not long to wait. I get it. But it felt like it.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  I pulled her into the bed, deeper, further, So she knew I wanted her to stay. I pulled the covers up over her, tucking her in for the night. I laid down alongside her and pulled some blanket over my thigh.

  She was sleepy. The sex had been a lullaby, and she dozed. All the worries, tension and even joy she had worn on her face since I met her slipped away, sliding into the great unknown of her unconscious mind that would decide which part she would dream about.

  Her hair fell over her cheek and I took my finger, tucking it neatly behind her cute little ear; I kissed her cheek, and she woke for a moment, but spoke as if in a lucid dream.

  “Drake?”

  “Mmm?”

  “You’re more than just a pretty face to me.”

  13

  When I woke up, all I saw was curls. My face so close to the top of his head I was practically breathing them in. They smelled amazing. Like coconut. And Kahlua and rum. Sexy and sweet. Why would he smell any other way?

  I must have grabbed the blanket off him last night because I was wrapped in it like a burrito and he crossed his arms against his chest like a mummy trying to keep warm. I unwound myself and put some duvet on his thigh. It was strong and manly and looked like it had nothing but a thin layer of skin stretch over steel. It was a pity to cover him up, especially when I could also peek at his dick flopped out between his legs.

  I’m such a pervert.

  I covered him. Because I could tell he was cold. I thought El must have put the air-con on. This caravan was a far cry from my tent, which would have been boiling by now. I wondered what time it was? Sun clawed relentlessly at the edges of the pathetic polyester window covering, pretending to be a curtain. Noon? It felt like it. We couldn’t have gone to sleep before five, so that made sense.

  Drake took in a long, audible inhale through his nose. He stirred.

  Fuck.

  I must have looked like holy hell. Jasmine gave me cat eye eyeliner last night, I doubted it had stayed in place.

  Oh well. This is me. There was one place where I refused to be apologetic. Not that Drake asked for any. The magic of Uyu was that everyone could be themselves, one thing you could count on was a lack of judgement.

  Drake would wake up and see my makeup smeared. What a great feeling not to have to be someone else’s idea of perfection. As I stared at him, it occurred to me that Drake was what made me feel perfect. Not Uyu. He seemed to want me for me. All the drama and trauma. All the fun. The quirky music tastes and my need for food and water. He took it all. He didn’t want me any other way.

  I laid my head back down on the pillow next to him, so I could feel the breath coming from his nose. It tickled my upper lip. I stayed as still as possible, wanting him to sleep, and enjoying what my imagination told me went on in his head.

  Did he think about our night?

  Did he compose a song in there?

  As though he sensed me watching, hip lips spread upward into a smile, but his eyes remained closed. “Good morning.”

  I smiled, too. I wondered if he could feel it. “Morning.”

  Opening his eyes, I got sucked in immediately. They were nearly black. I couldn’t tell his pupil from the iris and because of this, they could say anything I wanted them to say. With no contraction of the pupil, which tells us so much about what a person thinks or feels, they seemed to always warmly agree with me.

  “I like waking up next to you,” he said, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me in. He kissed my forehead sharply and wiggled his body with happiness.

  “Likewise.” I pulled back slightly so I could kiss his pillowy lips.

  “I wonder what time it is?”

  “I’m guessing noon.”

  “Damn. You have that parade with Jasmine in a couple hours. I mean, I’m glad you’re going, but I’d love to spend the day with you, too. Selfish. I know.”

  “Not selfish. Natural.”

  “True.”

  I put my head on his shoulder, in a nook near his neck. “What do you think you’ll do today?”

  He paused. I could feel his chest rising up and down. I ran my hand along his abs, stealing a bit more pleasure from the morning.

  “I really should spend some time on my own. I have a song to write. It’s not the kind of thing I can do with a lot of people around. I’ll bike out somewhere quiet on the Plain. Take my guitar and notebook.”

  My heart pumped, touched by Drake’s kindness. He was going to spend a day of his Uyu experience honoring me. Honoring my Dad. Giving time, energy, space and love to a man he didn’t even know. To a woman he hardly knew.

  It was the ultimate gift. So precious it was almost hard to accept that I deserved Drake’s sacrifice and effort.

  “I almost feel badly you’re giving up your time…”

  “Don’t. I don’t. But if I can be completely honest, I don’t know why I offered either. It’s not something I go around doing. I’ve never written a song for anyone before.”

  Shooting up, I propped myself up on my elbow to look at him in the face. “You haven’t? You’re not just saying that?”

  “No.”

  “Not even a love song for a girlfriend? Like a really crappy one in high school before you knew what a bridge was?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “Nope.”

  Cocking my head to the side in a combination of amusement and disbelief, I couldn’t help but ask, “What made you do it for this? For a dead man you don’t even know?”

  “What I said on the ship. I don’t think people should have to be alone. Or lonely.”

  “Do you feel alone?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you’re writing this song alone, without your bandmate. Does it make you feel weird? And lonely?”

  “I wrote all the songs on my own anyway. Jay had problems with excess. To put it nicely. He had the concentration of a gnat.”

  “Sounds like you’re better off without him.”

  Drake pushed himself up against the headboard. I sat up, too, and pulled the sheet up around my boobs. Shaking his head, a cunning smile, he took two fingers and delicately pulled the sheet from my hand, exposing my naked breasts for his viewing pleasure.

  “I come here for the art,” he said.

  I challenged him through slitted eyes. “I’m not one of those girls. You can’t hide a change of subject with a compliment. Do you think you’re better off without him?”

  He put both hands up and ran his fingers through his luscious hair, resting his hands on his head. Like a Greek statue, his muscles bulged and his hard jaw set. Deep in thought.

  “That is an interesting question. Am I better off without him? Anyone but me would answer yes without a doubt. But the truth is that I feel… cheated out of a friendship. He was like a brother to me and I was close to his Dad, too. Like now what? We break up the band, but are we still friends? Do I want to still offer him friendship knowing everything he does is drug induced? Knowing he probably wouldn’t have done this to me if he was still the old Jay? If we aren’t friends, can I still pop over at his parents’
house for lasagne? I lost a lot more than a bandmate.”

  My stomach felt like it had pop rocks in it. It’s so hard to turn the page on history. The next one always being completely blank. Reading a story is easier than writing one.

  “Do you mind me asking exactly what happened?”

  Breathe in. Breathe out. He prepared.

  “Basically, he texted me a few days ago, like right before I came here, that he sold our songs, well MY songs, to some production company in New York. That he was leaving, and that was that.”

  “Wait, so you really did one hundred percent write all the songs?”

  He bobbed his head up and down slowly in a very definite affirmative.

  “Do you have any evidence? Like emails, texts, uploads onto SoundCloud or Bandcamp or anything like that?”

  Drake lifted a brow and shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe, some of the songs are pretty old.”

  “Do you know the name of the production house he supposedly sold the rights to?”

  “Uh… no. He didn’t give me much detail. It was just one text.”

  “He recorded things with you, though? I assume you had at least YouTube videos or something recorded together?”

  Drake pushed himself up a bit further, more upright and alert. “Maeve. Sorry, but I kind of expected a hug or something. A look of sympathy? It feels like you’re grilling me.”

  I lunged forward and hugged him. “Oh, shit no! Just…” I pulled back. “Just wondering if there was anything I could do to help. That’s all.”

  I was an entertainment lawyer, after all. But Drake didn’t know that.

  “You know about this kind of stuff?”

  “Yeah. It’s possible that you could at least get it so Jay and the new company don’t have exclusive rights.”

  He scratched his hands quickly through his curls. “Agh. I dunno. This is going to sound lame, but I’m not sure he could handle a lawsuit. He’s pretty fragile.”

  A part of me wanted to take Drake by the shoulders and shake him. The other part melted at his goodness. How giving he was. How much he wanted for everyone’s happiness. And how confident he was that it would all be okay. He was the cream rising to the top.