I set the picture down on my lap and put my arms around his neck, whispering repeated thanks into his ear. This particular piece of art wasn’t famous, or even by someone famous, but what it represented to me spoke of what I tried to see in everyone; hope and goodness.
It was a hand-drawn picture of a huge, full moon with its light fading out across a darkened landscape. In front of the moon stood an elegant woman in long grass, her dress and hair sweeping back with the wind as she held one hand to her chest and offered out the other. Facing her was a werewolf, stood on its back legs, one hand reaching for hers whilst the other held a dozen red roses. It was the perfect representation of the worst creatures still being capable of love and compassion. Drake’s words on the gift tag struck a chord deep in my soul. He’d listened to everything I’d said.
The TV broke our moment when a woman’s scream from a questionable horror movie came on. Drake planted a kiss on the top of my head and changed the channel. Happiness bloomed inside me—he remembered I hated gory films. That simple gesture, along with this incredible present, was worth more than anything else to me at that moment.
Laying my head on his chest, I had the perfect place to listen to his heartbeat, as I did most nights, but tonight it was different. This time it felt like he’d given me a small piece of his heart. Content, it didn’t take long for the steady rhythm of his heartbeat to lull me back to sleep. A sleep that was light, airy, and surrounded by promises of Drake’s kisses.
“Paige…Paige, honey, you need to wake up, sweetie.”
The familiar masculine notes of Drake’s voice stirred me from my peace, teasing me back to reality. I groaned in protest, and without even thinking, stretched an arm out from beneath my blankets, reaching over Drake’s hard, muscled abdomen. He squeezed me against him and nuzzled into my hair.
“I’m sorry, baby, but it’s dawn already. We gotta move.”
My heart somersaulted when he called me ‘baby.’ I hadn’t dreamt last night at all; it had really happened. Drake Francis had kissed me over and over again and said he’d been waiting for it. And then he’d given me the most glorious present I could ever ask for. My dreams had literally come true.
I lifted my head and peered up at him from my half-open eyes. “I don’t want to move. Please don’t make me move.”
He moved a hand to my chin and gently stroked across it with his thumb. “Believe me, sweetheart, I don’t want to. But people will be up and about soon.”
Disappointment flooded me, but I understood. We couldn’t risk our secret being outed, especially now things had seemingly gone to a whole new level. When I’d first revealed my crush on Drake to Annabelle, she’d been horrified. She’d reacted really badly, first telling me I was disgusting for even finding him attractive, then yelled at Drake—who happened to be topless in the kitchen at the time—and banned him from being in the same room as me. The fact we’d managed four months of this so far was a miracle.
I sighed and tore myself from his warmth and comfort. I could have laid there for eternity. As happy as I was with the turn of events overnight, the doom of reality hung in the background like a heavy raincloud.
Chapter Four
Drake
I hated having to wake Paige up, especially after I’d finally made a move on her. Something about it gave me the sour taste of feeling like I’d used her. Even though we’d done nothing more than kiss, I felt like she was a one-night stand I was kicking out of my bed before my family woke up. A naughty secret I had to keep quiet.
That wouldn’t do. Something had to change.
But no sooner had I showered, changed, and sat at the kitchen table with a stack of pancakes covered in syrup, my sweet little sister came stomping down the stairs. She scraped the chair opposite me backward across the tiled kitchen floor. Then, she sat down on it, arms folded over her chest, and glared at me whilst I ate.
I flashed her a big grin and started cutting into my tower of pancakes. It didn’t take much to figure out she was still pissed over last night. I was used to her grudges, which carried on for days, sometimes weeks. All I did was make a joke of it, which just peed her off even more and raised my fun factor to new levels.
Every time I took a mouthful, I met her steely stare and chewed away on my delicious breakfast. When I got to the bottom of my stack, I screeched my knife across the porcelain plate. The urge to shiver at the horrendous sound almost won out, but I couldn’t let her see it bothered me.
“Shut up, Drake!” she yelled.
Her eyes darted about frantically, looking for something to throw at me. My baby sister was so predictable—when angry, shout and smash. Apart from turning green and male, she was like the Hulk on a rampage.
“What’s up, Annie-doll?” I blew her a kiss and slurped at my orange juice.
She hated shit like that. Chewing with open mouths, slurping, sniffing, clinking of cutlery on plates, gurgling. Mom reckoned she had something called misophonia. I reckoned she was just Annabelle.
“Don’t call me that!”
She pushed her chair back across the floor, obviously wanting to get up, but she went either too fast or too far and caught the lip of a tile. The chair tipped backward and fell over, depositing her on her back at the same time. Her feet were the only thing I could see, kicking in the air like a turtle trying to get back on its belly.
I couldn’t help but burst into laughter. I should have known better but I didn’t really care. This was more entertainment than tacky TV chat shows with DNA tests and lie detector results.
She hated the nickname I used for her when she got mad—Annie-doll. When the film Annabelle first released, it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Sometimes, living with that creepy ass doll would have been much simpler, I was sure.
The next thing I knew, she was on her feet and hurling the chair toward me in a blind fury. I dove out of the way, crashing to the floor myself. The rush of moving air whistled past my ear just as I tipped to the side. Damn girl had a good aim with anything she threw.
An almighty crash sounded through the house as the chair collided with the far wall of the kitchen, clattering against cupboards before breaking into chunky pieces.
“What the fuck?” I shouted, jumping to my feet. “Get a fucking grip, goddamnit!”
The thundering of feet on stairs alerted me to my brother and my father rushing down. They burst in, guns brandished, bed-swept hair, and glazed over eyes. When Dad saw the mess on the floor, he looked at Annabelle and sighed.
“Annie-bellie, what are you doing? Hmmm?”
That had been his name for her when she was a cute, innocent kid. She had been, still was, and always would be a daddy’s girl. His soft tone of voice immediately relaxed her, taking her vibrating rage down to a tearful, slumped mess.
“I’m sorry, Dad. He just…he’s such an asshole.”
Dad chuckled and went over to her, putting his gun on the table as he walked past it. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a big cuddle. She had more power over him than my mom, and that was saying something.
“What’s he done now, honey-bun, hmmm?”
Annabelle sniffed, all for effect of course, and said, “He was screeching his cutlery across his plate—on purpose.”
“Awww, sweetie. I’m sure he didn’t mean to,” Dad said, patting her on the back.
“He did! He was laughing at me when he did it.”
“Why don’t you go and get dressed whilst I have a word with Drake, hmmm? Then I’ll take you out for breakfast—just me and you. How about that?”
I rolled my eyes as she clapped her hands like an excited seal. We all knew she was manipulating Dad, even Dad knew it, but if it turned her demonic side to a sweet angel, who the hell cared?
Annabelle galloped up the stairs, leaving us three alone.
“Right, who’s staying here whilst I take Annabelle out?” Dad asked, picking his gun back up. “I’m only gonna be gone a couple hours.”
Screw it, I thought, th
inking of a tiny café I knew of, tucked away near a horse ranch about an hour away. I’m gonna take Paige out for breakfast too.
“I gotta go out,” I said, shrugging my shoulders and thinking of ways to sneak Paige out of the house. “Cade’ll have to do it.”
My older brother flicked me the bird and narrowed his eyes at me. “Fuck you. I got shit to do as well.”
“Boys,” Dad said, using that tone that basically meant ‘sort it the fuck out.’
“Fine,” Cade snapped. “But you cop it next time.”
He pointed his finger at me before stomping off upstairs, whistling one of the dogs to follow him.
Dad ambled over to the fridge and took a swig of the orange juice. “So what you gotta do that’s so important, huh?”
“I need to pick some bits up from Timmy for my bike.” It wasn’t that much of a lie. Timmy lived about twenty miles from the café I was thinking of and I did have parts to pick up from him.
“Timmy’s shut today. It’s his daughter’s sixteenth birthday.”
Fuck. “Shit. Forgot about that.”
“So, you gonna let your brother get his shit done instead?”
I rolled my eyes. Fuck’s sake. Then an idea sprung to mind. Mom always had a duvet day on Sundays, which meant with Annabelle, Dad, and Cade gone, I could have more time with Paige.
“Yeah, fine, whatever.”
I waved my hand through the air and started cleaning up the mess Annabelle had made. It was quite disturbing the amount of devastation she could leave in just thirty seconds. I pitied the man brave enough to take her on.
Within twenty minutes, quiet had descended upon the house, finally. I quickly cleaned the kitchen table, poured two fresh glasses of orange juice, and started mixing flour, eggs, and milk for some more pancakes. Not even Annabelle knew I could cook my own pancakes instead of eating the ready-made crap.
“Do you want me to go out?”
That quiet, innocent voice startled me from my daydreams, almost making me spill the batter mix. I turned around to see Paige stood at the edge of the kitchen. Her blonde hair was pulled to one side in a messy ponytail and she was wearing nothing but an oversized grey jumper that came down to her knees. I couldn’t help but wonder if she had any panties on under there.
I didn’t realise I’d stood gawping at her until she turned around and walked off. Seeing her slumped shoulders suddenly kicked me into high gear.
“Paige,” I said, running after her. “Don’t be silly. You don’t need to go anywhere.”
She turned around to face me but didn’t look me in the eye. “I don’t mind. I don’t particularly want to be a third wheel if you’ve got someone coming over.”
I frowned and placed my hands on her shoulders. “What are you talking about?” Finally stopping my thoughts about her possible pantie situation, I realised what she was saying. “You mean breakfast?” I tilted her chin up with my index finger, giving her no choice but to look at me. “This is for us, baby. I wanted to surprise you, but I guess you got there first.”
In that one instant where I said, ‘This is for us,’ her eyes lit up as if the fire in her soul had been reignited.
“Really?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes, of course. Who else would I reveal my secret cooking skills to?”
She beamed with a smile, filling me with joy at making her happy.
I wrapped my arms around her and gave her the gentlest of kisses. “This is gonna be hard on us, honey, having to keep it quiet, but I damn well know it’ll be more than worth it.” I cupped her delicate little face in my hands and dropped my voice to a soft tone. “Don’t ever question my loyalty to you, okay?”
She nodded and threw her arms around my neck, nuzzling into the soft spot between my ear and my shoulder. Just the touch of her skin against mine, especially there, had me covered in goosebumps. When she kissed me there, I couldn’t help but shudder. Fuck, this girl was gonna be hard to keep a secret. I already wanted to shout it from the rooftops that she was mine, let every man in the state know she was off limits. Dammit, I’d even make her wear my cut if it kept her safe.
The height difference between us was nearly a foot. Paige barely reached five and a half feet, whilst I towered above most at six-four. Knowing she would be stood on tip-toes to reach my sweet spot made my next move perfectly natural.
And also perfectly fucking dangerous.
I lifted her up, not wanting her affection to stop. She curled her legs around my waist and deepened the pressure of her kisses on my neck. I was fighting an internal war as to where I put my hands. It felt natural for me to rest them under her ass, but I knew if I did that I’d be in serious trouble. I’d be teetering on the edge of giving in to temptation and I didn’t want to do that yet.
I knew she was pure, innocent, and I wasn’t going to take that from her in a Sunday morning quickie before my family returned home.
But then she nibbled my earlobe. A soft scrape between her teeth is all it took. I was done. I couldn’t control myself any longer.
Chapter Five
Paige
The way my heart sunk when I saw Drake making breakfast was painful. I replayed last night over and over in my head, trying to work out if it had been real or not. Maybe he’d just been lonely and I was in the right place at the right time to fill that gap?
But his words…everything he said… the picture. He wouldn’t have made all that up, gone to the trouble of having that piece drawn for me, just for a few snogging sessions, surely?
Then Annabelle’s words about her brother sprung to mind—‘He’ll take anything he can get when he can get it. He’s a slut.’ Literally just before she left for breakfast with her dad, she’d thrown me her latest Ministry of Sound album and winked.
“I’m guessing Drake has company coming over, seeing as he reeks of aftershave. My earphones are plugged into my laptop if you want them.”
I’d faked a smile and escaped into the bathroom for a shower. Of course he’d duped me. In what world would a man like Drake ever be interested in a young girl like me? I’d be nothing but an embarrassment to him. I should have known better. The way he just stood and stared at me after I asked him if he wanted me to go out sent my pulse through the roof.
Did he not have any words because I’d caught him out? Or was he thinking of a convenient lie to placate me? The second his hands touched me, all doubt washed away, leaving only guilt in its wake for thinking of him in such a way. When he made me look him in the eye, I knew this was for real—no jokes. I was going to have to grab a hold of my confidence with both hands if I wanted to keep this man interested.
Now I was wrapped around his fine body, dotting kisses all over the tender skin of his neck. The more he shivered, the more he spurred me on. I loved getting these kinds of reactions from him. His arms were tightly coiled around me and every part of me wanted him to move his hands down to my ass.
I wasn’t wearing any panties because my freshly washed clothes were still in the tumble dryer. I’d expected Drake to be outside working on his bike or something, not playing house husband in the kitchen.
The desire building inside me was becoming unbearable. I’d had plenty of orgasms before, but only by my own hands. To say I was curious about experiencing them given by someone else was an understatement. I wanted to finally lose my ‘V’ plates and become a woman, not the delicate little girl I knew everyone saw me as. I wanted a man to desire me over no other, to be unable to resist me and all the things I could make him feel. Now at a mere eighteen years old, I wanted to prove myself.
I nibbled his earlobe, gently putting it between my teeth. His knees buckled and he shivered twice. The next thing I knew, my back was pressed against a kitchen cupboard and Drake was pushing himself against me, grinding his hips.
“How long until everyone comes back?” I asked, kissing his ear.
He groaned and shuddered. “Cade’ll be gone all day. Dad and Annabelle, a couple of hours.�
�
I pulled back from his ear and looked him in the eye with a mischievous smile.
“No, Paige,” he said, sounding breathless. “Not like this.”
“Why?” I asked, trying to ignore my feelings of rejection.
“Because you deserve it done the right way. Not a mindless loss of control in a two-hour time frame before I then have to stay away from you all day.”
“So I don’t deserve it how I want it and when I want it then?”
He took his hands from me and clenched both of his fists. I gripped his waist tighter with my legs now they and the cupboard behind me were my only support. “Dear God, Paige. I already deserve a Nobel peace prize for lasting this long. Please don’t make it any harder.”
With a wicked grin, I took one arm from around his neck and traced my hand all the way down his taut chest. When I brushed over his abdomen and hit the top of his jeans, he tensed up, his breathing suddenly becoming short and raspy.
I slid my hand lower, easily finding the bulge I so craved. “Seems I couldn’t make it any harder even if I wanted to.”
I pushed my palm against his erection and slowly rubbed my way up and down it.
“Paige,” he whispered. “Please…oh fuck.”
I couldn’t help but grab a proper handful of him. My core was aching for satiation. I needed him, I wanted him, and I was damn well going to get him.
“I forgot to say—” I leaned forward and kissed his lips “—I’m not wearing any panties.”
A strangled cry left him as he buried his face in my hair. I knew I’d just pushed him overboard. He was fighting a losing battle.
“You’re killing me, girl. Seriously.”
I poised my lips right over his ear, intending for them to tickle him as I said, “So make me a woman.”
In a split second, I was whirled around, looking back at the kitchen as Drake marched us toward his bedroom. I couldn’t help but grin at how easy that had been. I was going to have a lot of fun with him in this respect.
Craving Forbidden (Craving Series Book 8) Page 19
