His lips spread into a smile. His hands go to my back. He shifts, wrestling me to the ground so he's the one of top of me, straddling me.
The weight of his body sinks into mine. I'm overwhelmed with the feeling of safety. It's like nothing in the world can hurt me.
My body is betraying me again. There's never been anything more dangerous than falling in love with Drew.
My head has no say here. It's been beaten and brutalized by my body and my heart. No sense in resisting how much I want to feel that affection again.
I close my eyes and press my lips into his. He tastes so good. My tongue slides into his mouth, exploring it like this is the first time I've ever kissed him properly.
It's like he can read my mind. His hand rakes over my legs, settling on my inner thighs. He traces the outline of my scars like they're fascinating.
He kisses his way to my ear. "You want to do this here or in the car?"
It is freezing out here, even with all the warmth of his body. "The car."
In one smooth motion, Drew rises to his feet. He takes my hand and pulls me up. His fingers intertwine with mine.
The car is just down the street. Drew unlocks it, slides into the passenger seat, and pats his lap as if to say come here.
That looks difficult. I slide into the seat next to him, pressing him against the center console. He laughs, grabs my hips, and pulls me into his lap.
Drew reaches over and pulls the door shut.
The rest of the world fades away. It's just the two of us in this little car, in this tiny seat.
I shift so I'm straddling him. He looks up at me, all that affection in his eyes, and brushes my hair behind my shoulders. Something passes between us. Neither one of us is ready to say those words, but, right now, I can feel them.
His eyes close. He plants a soft kiss on my shoulder. My neck. My cheek. My mouth. He sucks on my lower lip. It sends a pang straight to my core.
My hands go to his shoulders. I slide them around his neck, pulling him closer, bringing the kiss deeper.
His touch is tender. He runs his hands down my back and up again.
And again.
And again.
Every brush of his hands is magic. I kiss him harder. I shift my hips, so our crotches are aligned. All that fabric is in the way again, but I can still feel his erection through his jeans.
I break the kiss to pull my top over my head. Drew's eyes go wide.
He pulls his shirt over his head. My breath picks up. My heart races a little faster. He's so damn beautiful. I trace the lines of his body from his shoulders to his belly button. Then below his belly button.
I undo his jeans. He lifts his ass to help me get them down his hips. Then the boxers. Then it's just Drew on that seat.
He drags his fingertips up my thigh. It's slow enough to make me dizzy. My body is so desperate to be pressed against his. I press my eyes closed to contain the sensation. There's this ache between my legs and there's only one way to satisfy it.
He's the only thing that satisfies me.
It occurs to me that I have a problem. That I really am addicted to him. But the second our eyes meet I don't care. It's like I can see all the way to his soul. It's like I can see all the things he can't manage to say.
His palm presses against my panties. He tugs them to my knees. I shift so he can get them off my feet.
Drew grabs my hips and brings my body onto his. No teasing. He enters me. His grip around me tightens. He pulls me closer.
I hold onto his shoulders and use them for leverage.
I shift up and down, driving him as deep as he'll go. He holds my gaze, watching me with fascination. Then he pulls me into a deep kiss.
We stay like that, lips locked, him shifting deeper and deeper inside me. My body is pressed against his—my chest, my stomach, my hands, my thighs—and the skin-to-skin contact is enough to make me sizzle. It's all so sweet, so agonizingly slow.
I keep my eyes closed and my lips pressed against his. The pleasure in my core builds with every thrust. That's agonizingly slow too.
Just when I'm sure I can't take it anymore, Drew moves faster. He plants kisses down my neck and chest, stopping to suck on my nipples, then kissing his way back to my mouth.
I slide my hands around his neck. An orgasm rises up inside me. I do everything to keep my lips on his. I dig my nails into his back. I squeeze my thighs against his.
I'm so close to the edge. One more thrust and I'm straight into free fall. Pleasure radiates to every single finger and toe. I moan into Drew's mouth as I come. I squeeze him as hard as I can.
He feels so fucking good.
Drew breaks our kiss to press his lips against my neck. His movements get faster, harder, more desperate. He digs his hands into my ass, pulling me closer.
He's almost there and it's a beautiful thing to watch. His eyelids press together. His lips part. There's so much pleasure on his face, like he's here and somewhere else all at once.
I'm greedy. I want him here.
"Open your eyes," I say. "I want to watch."
He does. He holds my gaze as he thrusts into me. His digs his fingers into my hips like it's the only way he can contain himself.
I can see the orgasm building in his expression. He can't bring himself to keep his eyes open. He can't bring himself to do anything but groan. He pulls me closer. He sucks on my earlobe.
With one more heavy groan, he comes. His cock is pulsing inside me. His nails are sharp against my skin. It's such an amazing sensation, knowing I'm bringing him this bliss.
We stay in the passenger seat with our bodies pressed together for a long time. It's the closest I've ever been to him. I'm terrified to move away. What if everything changes and he goes back to being utterly unable to articulate his feelings?
Finally, his eyes open. He runs his hand through my hair, still soft and sweet.
"I want to take you somewhere," he says.
I nod. Wherever it is, I want to be there.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The drive is dark and quiet. Somewhere around Malibu, Drew turns away from the main road. After ten minutes of twists and turns, we stop on a mountain top.
Drew gets out of the car. He pulls a hoodie from the backseat, unzips it and slings it around my shoulders.
"This is where I came the other day. When I was trying to think." He takes my hand and walks me toward the canyon. "Didn't help. I was still going out of my mind."
I take a look around. We're on top of one of the canyons in Malibu. The only light is from the moon and the stars. It's enough to make out the rocky scenery.
"About what?" I ask.
"About how I should have been there." He squeezes my hand. "How if I had been around more, you wouldn't have had to hurt yourself."
"That's not true." I pull my hand back to my chest and pull the hoodie a little tighter. "And I don't want to hear you saying things like that. I don't need to add your guilty conscience to the list of shit I have to deal with."
It's dark, but I can still make out his eyes. They're serious, intense.
"Okay." He shifts his weight. "You sure you want to know every ugly thing about me?"
"Positive."
"It happened when I was about seventeen. After my parents got divorced. I was relieved. Finally, I wouldn't have to see them pretend to like each other. But Willow took it so hard. She was miserable and she ran off with—" He lets out a sharp exhale. His hands curl into fists. "The asshole was no good. He hurt her. Hit her. And worse."
His eyes are on fire. His posture is defensive. I slide my arms around his waist.
He stiffens. "She couldn't see it. Thought it didn't mean anything. That he loved her. She was only fifteen. She couldn't help it. But I hated myself for letting her run off with him. I found the guy and beat him within an inch of his life. Broke my hand. Couldn't play the guitar for two months." His voice drops. "Almost killed him. I will if I ever see him again."
"You defended your sister.
There's nothing ugly about that."
"It wasn't defense. She was safe. I wanted to make him hurt."
I stare back at Drew. I'm not too keen on violence, but it's hard to fault him for beating the guy who abused his sister.
I run my hand through his hair. "Why did you stop?"
"I don't know. He was a big guy and should have had the upper hand, but he went limp. Stopped fighting back."
"You couldn't do it?"
"Maybe. Or maybe my hand hurt too fucking bad. Or maybe I had enough sense to realize someone was gonna call the cops. It wasn't mercy. Sure as shit wasn't my conscience." His hand slides into my hair, tilting me so we're eye to eye again. "If anyone ever hurt you like that I’d kill him."
"You threatened to kill a guy for grabbing my ass. I can only imagine what you’d do if someone actually hurt me."
"Anytime someone causes you pain, not just that way—I want to kill them.” His gaze goes to the ground. “I keep hurting you. I hate myself for it."
"Drew-"
“Let me finish.” His expression gets intense. "I know you think I'm overprotective. Maybe I am. The last six months or so, I've been trying to protect you from me. I wanted you all this time, Kara. For so long. But I was sure I'd only hurt you."
I swallow hard.
"I've hurt you a lot already."
Tension builds between my shoulder blades. I don't know what he's saying. I don't know how to respond. So I lean closer. I hold him tighter. With my head against his chest, I can hear his heartbeat. It's steady and strong.
"I mean it every time I say it. I don't want to hurt you." He holds me tighter. "But it's going to take a while for me to figure this relationship thing out."
"Okay."
"I'm gonna try, but you'll have to be patient."
"Okay."
"Make me a promise." He looks me dead in the eyes. "Promise you won't let me fuck this up."
"Promise you won't let yourself fuck this up."
He leans down to press his forehead against mine. "Deal."
"Deal," I agree.
***
It's well past midnight when we get home. Now that my lust is sated, my stomach is growling. I haven't eaten a proper meal since breakfast.
Drew stands behind me, sliding his arms around my waist and resting his chin against my shoulder. I lean into the comfort of his body against mine.
"You hungry?" He asks.
"Starving."
"I'll make something." He kisses me on the cheek and moves to the kitchen.
I plant myself on the table, watching him chop and dice. "When did you learn to cook?"
"Last few years. Miles taught me."
"That's so cute."
He looks at me as if to say watch yourself, Kendrick. "I wanted to eat homemade food. We don't tour as much as when we started, but it's still five months this year." He sets a pan on the stove. "If I never eat fast food again, it will be too soon."
"You don't crave burgers and fries?"
He sticks his tongue out in distaste. "Never. Tastes like screaming phone calls with my ex. Like drinking too much and wanting to start a fight but knowing Tom will kill me if I can't play."
"Is it really about playing?"
"Yeah, but—" Drew runs his hand through his hair. He turns toward me. "Tom cares more than he lets on."
"I'm telling him you said that."
Drew moves to my seat. He kneels next to me, so he's only barely looking up to me. "You won't." He grabs my shirt and pulls my lips into his.
I kiss him hard. "How do you know?"
"If you do, I'll tickle you until you pass out." He shifts back to his feet. "Damn, Kendrick. You're distracting me from our dinner."
"You didn't eat with the guys?"
"Stomach was in knots."
"Really?"
He cocks an eyebrow. "I do have feelings."
"But you act like nothing could ever hurt you."
"When you hurt, I hurt. I felt sick knowing I was causing you pain. Kept going in circles, thinking you'd be better off if I backed off but wanting you too much to do it."
"I don't want you to back off. You're the only person I can be myself around."
"What about Meg?"
"It's not the same. Not as easy." I bite my lip. "I'm not good at relationships either. Jake loved me but it wasn't really me. It was the nice, normal girl I convinced him I was."
Smoke drifts from the pan on the stove. It's burning.
"Fuck." Drew moves to the kitchen and tends to the food.
"I won't be okay without you. Even if we don't work as a couple. I need you to be my friend."
He's quiet for a minute. When he speaks, his voice is low. "I always want to be your friend."
My stomach growls. I remind myself to be patient. "I was thinking... what if we slept together?"
"Pretty sure we crossed the bridge, Kendrick."
"Not sex. Sleeping in the same bed. I know a lot of guys don't like it—"
"How many guys you try this with?"
"Shut up."
"You can do better than 'shut up.'"
"I'm too hungry to think up good comebacks."
He laughs as he fiddles with the pot. He's cooking something and it smells good. Like garlic and parsley.
I settle into my seat, all my attention on the scent of the food. Eggs. Red peppers. Some green vegetable. Spinach or maybe kale. If it's kale I'm teasing him mercilessly for being so LA.
Drew turns off the stove, scoops the food onto plates, and joins me at the table.
Damn. Spinach. So much for proving my comeback prowess. "Thanks."
He makes eye contact. "I'd love to sleep with you."
"You sure?"
"But I usually practice for a while before bed."
"I like hearing you play."
"You won't like hearing 'No Way in Hell' for the three hundredth time. How about I join you in your room when I'm done?"
A warmth spreads through my belly. "Okay."
He smiles. "You sleep naked, right?"
"No."
"Fuck. Thought that was part of the deal."
I pluck a pepper from my eggs and throw it at him. Victory! It smacks his cheek.
He peels it off and pops it in his mouth. "I will if you will."
"We'll never actually sleep."
"So?"
"I can sleep commando."
His teeth sink into his lip. "Go on..."
"You have to wait for that."
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I sleep without underwear all the time, but it's different doing it knowing Drew is going to be pressed against me. Knowing his hands—
I'm getting ahead of myself. I take a quick shower, brush my teeth, and change into my normal pajamas: a tank top and cotton drawstring pants. Not the sexiest thing, but they're comfortable.
Drew joins me a few minutes later. He's wet and warm, fresh from the shower. And he's shirtless, wearing only a pair of cotton pajama pants.
"You really sleep like that?" I ask.
"Unless it's cold." He scoots next to me, so he's spooning me. His hand traces the neckline of my tank top as if feeling for a bra.
"Drew," I groan, shifting my body against his. He smells like soap. "What are you doing?"
"Keeping you honest." His fingers trace the edges of my pajama pants. They dip inside lower and lower.
Almost there.
Then his fingertips skim my clit.
Damn.
"I want to ask you something." He presses his body against mine.
"Right now?"
"You want me to stop?" He pulls his hand back to my belly button.
"I didn't say that."
He chuckles. "It's relevant to the subject at hand."
"You're trying to kill me."
"Yeah." He scrapes his teeth against my neck. "Do you ever fantasize about me?"
"So not going there."
"That's a yes."
Obviously it's a yes. I turn so I'm facing him
. "Do you ever fantasize about me?"
"All the time." His hand goes to my hip. "I go out of my mind."
"Do you..." I take a deep breath. I want an answer to this so badly. I've never thought about another guy like this. Never wondered how he thought of me or if he— "Do you touch yourself?"
"You're ridding right?"
"No." I stammer. "What's funny about that?"
"A million times."
My sex clenches. Drew really thinks of me that much? He wants me that much? "Really?"
"Fuck yeah. You have any idea how sexy you are?" He yanks the strap of my tank top off my shoulders as if he's proving his point.
I relax into his touch, groaning as he toys with my nipple. He sucks on my neck, shifting his crotch against mine so I can feel his erection.
Drew shifts me so I'm lying on my back. He leans on his elbow. His eyes meet mine. "You ever touch yourself thinking about me?"
"Not a million times."
"A hundred thousand?"
"No."
"A thousand?"
My cheeks burn. I avert my gaze to the ceiling.
"Fuck. I have a lot of catching up to do." He presses his lips to mine. "You have to show me sometime."
"Is it really that interesting?"
"Fuck yes." He pulls my other strap off my shoulder and rolls my tank to my stomach. He drags his hand to my other nipple, teasing me. "What do you think about when you touch yourself?"
"You mean when it's about you?"
"You thinking about other guys?"
I shake my head. "Not for a long time." I look up at Drew. His eyes are fixed on me like he's hanging on every word. This is a whole other level of intimacy, but I want that with him. I take a deep breath. "You touching me or inside of me." My cheeks burn. "Or things I want to do to you."
"Like what?"
I can't say this aloud. It's too much. But it's not like he's going to complain.
I make eye contact. "You're making this difficult."
He smiles. "Chose those words carefully, didn't you?"
I shift, straddling him so I'm on top, looking down at him. Here goes nothing. "I want to suck you off."
His eyes go wide. "I want to watch you touch yourself after."
"You're not in a position to make demands."
He brings his hand to the back of my head and presses me into a deep kiss. "Not a demand. A request. After."
Strum Your Heart Out (Sinful Serenade #2) Page 17
