“Okay,” I whispered because damn.
I saw his eyes crinkle at the sides when he echoed, “Okay.” He pulled back and muttered, “Really like those jeans,” then walked away, got in the car with Titus and they drove off.
“You are in so much trouble,” I proclaimed to myself as I turned and went back to the porch where Krystal waited grinning big.
Chapter 8
Maybe I hadn’t lied to Jeremiah about not having time for a relationship if the hours it had taken to even choose a freaking outfit for my date the next night meant anything.
“Pink is your color, not mine,” I whined to Krystal, whose date with Tim had taken place that afternoon.
It was Sunday, I’d no sooner gotten home from work than I’d jumped in the shower, and my date with Drake loomed within the hour. Ack! Krystal had been waiting for me when I’d gotten out and was now helping me dress having already done my hair and makeup in record time.
“But you look pretty!” she confirmed.
I looked in the mirror seeing that the pink voile button-up blouse over a white camisole she’d chosen from my closet actually appeared to look quite good together. Canting my head to the side, I examined my black skinny jeans and the sexy pink stilettos I’d borrowed from her that finished the ensemble.
“Okay. It’s not that bad,” I admitted.
She puffed out a laugh. “Not bad? You look great!” She twisted one of my curls between her fingers then grabbed the eyebrow pencil using the brush end to shape my brows one last time, getting everything “just so.” She stepped back scrutinizing me. “If this doesn’t get you laid, I give up.”
“What?” I burst out. “That’s not the plan for tonight!”
She giggled. “I know.” Then she cut her eyes at me. “But still.”
“So today was bad?” I asked.
“So bad at the beginning. First, he let me know he knew my ‘Manolo Blahniks’ were knockoffs. I mean, what man knows that who isn’t gay? And second, he told me my eyeshadow should be more taupe than brown.” She raised an eyebrow. “So I flat-out asked him if he was gay.”
My mouth dropped open. “You did not.”
She nodded. “His response? ‘Girl, I’m a giant homo.’” We both cracked up. “He’s the coolest guy ever. Best date I’ve been on in a while.”
“Good!” I replied. “You needed a fun date.”
“He said he’s told his parents but they don’t believe him. But his boyfriend understands that he occasionally has to go out with whomever they hook him up with.” She giggled. “I think we might hang out next weekend.”
The doorbell rang and I felt my heart in my throat.
“Ready?” she asked, her shoulders coming up in excitement as she grinned.
I swallowed roughly and nodded. This would either go great or straight to hell. With the way Drake and I had started out, it was no doubt a toss-up.
~*~*~*~*~
Okay, I was going straight to hell.
Don’t get me wrong. The date had been amazing so far. Drake had taken me to a really cool Italian restaurant that had tarot card readers and trapeze artists. I’ll just say that again—trapeze artists! The atmosphere was so cool and everything going on all around us had been incredible.
After dinner, we’d gone to a bar where several live bands were playing, and they were really good! I mean, it was Seattle from where many great bands had originated, so I was guessing the standards for performances were pretty dang high, and the bands hadn’t disappointed. And that’s where we were now.
We sat in a spot toward the back where the music wasn’t too loud and we could talk, continuing to keep the conversation light as we had at dinner where we’d found out we were both born and raised in Seattle. We shared a bit about our growing up, discovered we both liked the Foo Fighters—I mean, who doesn’t—and talked about what we wanted for our futures. He’d told me he’d played football in college for three years but had to drop out after his junior year—when I asked where he played and the reason he’d dropped out, he’d changed the subject—but he also informed me that he’d been taking online courses to get his business degree. His goal was to open another Powers Automotive and manage both, since he’d already been doing so at the current one. He also explained that he owned a house in a neighborhood near the shop, which made it convenient for him to keep up with things.
I was now telling him about working at the nursing home explaining how Mrs. Johnson critiqued me daily and how I loved spunky, ninety-five-year-old Mr. Avery.
“He’s amazing,” I declared. “I hope I’m that energetic when I’m his age.”
“I’m not that energetic now,” Drake quipped, laughing, a before-unseen dimple appearing in his right cheek when he smiled.
Damn.
And that right there, that was the reason I was going to hell.
See, he was so fricking handsome, just so gah! that as we talked, all I could think about was what he would be like in bed.
Did he make sexy groans?
Did he talk dirty—I would’ve bet money on it.
Did he have a signature move?
Did he have a big—“Sorry, what did you say?” I asked when he spoke, my eyes moving from his dimple to his.
“I said I’ll be lucky to make it to seventy,” he stated with a grin.
Yep. Definitely going to hell.
As he started telling me about one of his brothers messing with him by making him late to class when they were in high school, I couldn’t stop staring. He was so sexy in his dark jeans, tucked in navy button down shirt, brown tweed blazer and brown wingtip boots; his hair in its fade cut, the top a little long and combed back, and then there was the stubble on his sharp jaw that I wanted to touch, well, it amongst other things.
Holy smokes, he was hot.
So who could blame me for having yummy thoughts about him?
“I had to beat the shit out of him because he’d hidden my keys and you keep looking at me that way I’m gonna fuck you right here on the table.” Drake had been in the middle of his story but I guess I’d zoned out and had been brazenly staring at his lips as they moved.
Their stopping brought me out of my reverie. “Pardon?”
The way his eyes were glittering meant he’d said something dirty, I figured. And when I finally realized what he’d just uttered, my face got hot.
“Oh,” I murmured, licking my lips.
“Let’s get out of here,” he stated.
He stood, taking my hand and helping me off my barstool and as we made our way out, I melted at the feel of his palm on my lower back. At his black car, which I’d learned was a 1970 Chevelle SS, he unlocked my door helping me in, and while he walked around to his side, I kept my eyes on him thinking about how he’d been a gentleman the entire evening, sweet even, and obviously more attentive to the conversation than I’d been. He’d asked questions but hadn’t pried and made me laugh with his comments.
Damn. He was the whole package. But I still wondered why he’d been such a jerk to me when we first met, so as we drove home, I decided to find out.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Depends,” he answered.
“Oh,” I murmured kind of taken aback. He’d been so open earlier that this took me off guard.
He reached over and grabbed my hand with a chuckle. “Ask, Honor.”
“Oh. Well, I was wondering why, you know, at first, you were kind of…”
He squeezed my hand before letting it go to shift as we approached a stoplight.
“Harsh?” I bit my lips trying to think of how to proceed.
“Babe, I’ve got a lot on my plate. You stick around, you’ll see that. I was so fucking attracted to you from the start,” he turned and winked before taking off when the light turned green, “but I have to be careful about who I let in my life.”
I nodded but didn’t really understand what he’d meant.
I guessed I’d just have to stick around and find out.
&nbs
p; ~*~*~*~*~*~
“Fuck,” Drake groaned after pulling away from kissing me at my front door.
He’d walked me up to the porch and we’d been engaged in a very steamy make-out session for the last several minutes.
And good gosh, the man could kiss.
I was tempted to ask him in. Had actually started to, then my head—in deep conflict with my body—started in, telling me it wouldn’t be prudent to do so. Stupid, stupid head. But I knew I was right in listening because it seemed that sex always just complicated things.
I mean, first, I hardly knew him and I wanted to know him more. And before, when I felt I’d had sex too soon with guys—I was no expert since I’d only slept with two but whatever—I’d somehow felt cheated, as if we’d jumped from A to Z and missed out on the fun in-between stuff like flirting and figuring each other out. Secondly, I wanted those long phone talks with Drake, gradually finding out who he was a bit at a time. I wanted to see the real him. I knew if he came inside, I would’ve jumped his sexy ass in a heartbeat and lost out on all of that. So following my logic instead of my horny body—bad, bad, horny body—I told him thank you and goodnight and went inside.
Following the very specific orders that the moment I walk in the door I call, I dialed Krystal’s number and then a barrage of questions was immediately upon me:
“How’d it go? Did you have fun? What’d you do? Did he like what you wore? What’d he wear? Were you nervous? Was he nervous?”
I took a breath to answer—shocked that she’d restrained herself from asking the one question I knew she really wanted to know—and, of course, she didn’t disappoint.
“Did you…DO IT?” she burst out loudly, causing me to yank the phone away from my ear.
“No!” I replied with a laugh. “But we did make out on my porch.”
“This is gonna be huge, On! He could be the one!” she squealed.
I snorted. “We’ve gone on one date, Krys. Don’t have me walking down the aisle just yet.”
“Never know!” she gushed.
After giving her the rest of the details of our date, I got ready for bed, washing the makeup from my face and smiling dreamily thinking of how when Drake had picked me up, he’d immediately stated, “You’re beautiful.” As I brushed my teeth, I heard my phone bling from my bedroom and after finishing up, I went in and plopped down on my bed grabbing my cell. And I swear, I could’ve starred in one of those crazy gum commercials with the huge smile I sported.
Text Message—Sat, Feb 27, 11:35 a.m.
Drake: Had a great time, beautiful
How sweet was that? I lay back on my pillow and turned out the light before replying.
Me: I did too, handsome. Thank you. I had fun : )
I blushed as I hit Send. Gah!
Drake: What’re you wearing?
That made me laugh. Men were such visual creatures.
Me: A tank top and shorts lol
Drake: Fuck
Me: What’re YOU wearing? ;)
Drake: Nada, sweetheart
Now, talk about your visuals. Good gosh. I sat staring at my phone not quite knowing what to reply.
Drake: You fall asleep?
Me: No.
Drake: When can I see you again?
I sighed, loving that he wanted to see me again.
Me: I don’t work Tuesday
Drake: Be ready at 7
I chuckled at that because he was definitely decisive, my new word for bossy.
Me: Okay
Drake: Nothing fancy
Me: Sounds good
Drake: See you then, babe
Me: Okay, Drake. Night
I fell asleep smiling.
Chapter 9
Tuesday night we were at O’Leary’s Sports Bar and Grill playing pool. Drake had me try a couple different beers that were pretty good and I really liked the one that had a fruity taste.
As he racked the balls for our third game, he stated, “My Uncle Jack owns this place. My brothers and I practically grew up here.”
“So, you guys have been drinking awesome beer and playing pool since you were toddlers, huh?” I commented just as he pulled back his stick to break.
His back tensed as he flubbed the shot. He stood tall and turned toward me, a spark in his eyes when he challenged, “You gonna be cute?”
“Uh—” was all I got out then he was stalking toward me, setting his pool stick against the table before backing me against the wall.
Both hands on the wall at either side of my head, he leaned down and stated, “’Cause I’m all for cute, Honor. Just makes me wanna fuck you even more.”
Wow.
Biting the inside of my lip, I looked up at him and not knowing what else to reply whispered, “Okay.”
“Jesus,” he ground out.
I watched his jaw muscles tic as he gazed down at me then sliding a hand to the base of my throat his mouth came down on mine, his tongue teasing my own, twisting, swirling with it. Breathing out a moan, I smoothed my hands over his chest and up behind his neck where I curled my fingers into his hair.
And, dang, I was completely consumed by that kiss. Totally lost in him until a man suddenly hollered, “Get a room!”
Drake pulled away and grinned down at my embarrassed face. Then looking back over his shoulder, he retorted, “Go fuck yourself!”
“Already did! Twice today!” the guy returned.
Drake snorted and now slid his hand that was at the front of my throat to the back of my neck pulling me with him as he turned toward whoever was talking to him.
“That hard up, huh?” Drake asked, moving his arm around my shoulders as we walked over.
The guy looked a lot like Drake—same honey eyes, same build—meaning, he was very good looking.
When we got to him, Drake dropped his arm from me and they executed a guy hug then pulling back he asked, “What’s going on, man?”
“Picking up a check from Uncle Jack,” was the reply, but the guy wasn’t looking at Drake, he was checking me out, his eyes giving me the up-and-down.
Drake reached a hand back for me, taking mine and pulling me up to him. “This is Honor Justice,” he introduced.
“Ryker Powers,” the guy said back, giving me a half smirk as he held out his hand for me to shake. His eyes traveled over my body again before they landed on Drake and he nodded as if in approval uttering, “Happy for you.”
Looking up at Drake, I saw the side of his mouth tip up. “Thanks,” he replied then glanced down at me. “Ryker’s my cousin. He was a champion wrestler in college.”
Ryker snorted. “Champion. Yeah.” He raised an eyebrow and looked down at me. “This one tell you he was an All-American quarterback?”
That was an amazing feat and I glanced up at Drake just in time to see him become embarrassed. Huh. He cut his eyes toward me. “Second team,” he shared and shook his head as if that wasn’t damned cool either.
“Wow,” I muttered, giving him a beaming smile and felt him squeeze my hand.
He then turned back to Ryker. “Where’s Frankie?”
“Some fucking play she tried talking me into going to. Thank God Dad called asking me to come here and I got out of it.”
Drake chuckled gazing down to give me a wink before looking back at his cousin and saying, “Chick shit.”
Ryker nodded in agreement.
I frowned because plays were awesome.
“How’re things at the garage?” Ryker asked.
“Good. Gotta ’68 Barracuda in for a tune-up I’d think of buying if the guy’d come down about twenty grand.” Drake snorted.
Ryker laughed. “What the fuck’s he asking?”
“Thirty-four.”
“Mint?”
“Perfect.”
Ryker whistled. “I’d give you some competition for it but Frankie would chew my ass out.” He looked at me and winked, explaining, “Saving for a honeymoon.”
“Think I’ll call her and tell her you made an offer,” Drake sai
d with an ornery grin.
“You do that and I’ll tell this one,” Ryker nodded toward me, “about sophomore year in high school when you got caught sneaking out of Brianna Brown’s bedroom window.”
“Damn. That’s some low-down shit, man,” Drake replied with a chuckle.
“Hey, fuck with me, I fuck with you,” Ryker fired back laughing. Then he gave me a grin. “Police were involved.”
“Fuck,” Drake muttered.
I giggled at their witty repartee thinking it was cool that they were close.
“Okay, gotta go find Uncle Jack and pick up a check,” Ryker stated.
“Good seein’ you, Ryke,” Drake said, shaking his hand. “Say hi to everyone for me. I think Mom’s sent cards to the family to come over in a couple Sundays. See you then?”
“Yeah. Oh, tell Will I’ll bring the football Zeke signed for him,” Ryker said then he looked at me and nodded. “Nice meeting you, Honor.”
“You too,” I answered.
“Later,” Drake called as Ryker walked off. Looking down at me after his cousin left he asked, “Ready?”
“Yes.”
From the coatrack by the front door, Drake grabbed my jacket holding it out for me to put on before donning his own. As he opened the door, an older man called from behind the bar, “See you on the twelfth!”
I turned to see Ryker leaning against the bar having been talking to whom I assumed was their Uncle Jack.
“Yeah, see ya!” Drake called out and held the door for me to go out. He took my hand in his as we walked to his Bronco.
“You and Ryker look so much alike,” I declared. “You could pass for brothers.”
“The Powers gene is strong, I guess.”
I’ll say. I’d met his brother Titus who was a mini-me Drake and now his cousin Ryker who was practically his clone. Jeez. If the rest of his family was this gorgeous, they could totally star in their own reality TV show and really do nothing but maybe take off their shirts. Women everywhere would go nuts.
Drake (The Powers That Be, Book 5) Page 7
