“I’m heading to my room to get ready, if you go back to the loft, be back in two hours. We leave at six.”
Without waiting for a reply I close the door and head down the hall to my room then sit at my vanity and look into the mirror. My mind automatically starts to run through every detail of what just happened. The change in my reflection is immediate. I can’t put my finger on the difference outside of the frown that now resides where the easy grin was, but something seems off. I replay my parting words and actions again and again. The entirety is classic, albeit a bit more lusty Lola, nothing that should worry me, except for the first time I don’t feel confident afterwards. It all felt…fake.
CHAPTER 6
"Have you any idea of what a man must endure who leads such a life? No, you cannot. No one can unless he lives it for himself."
- Frank James
The music is dull in my ears and the rest of the dance floor is a blur. A few shots ago, Drake and I abandoned the energetic swing dancing to sway back and forth in each other’s arms, uncaring if the tune playing is slow song or not. A smile breaks out on my face, and I press it further into the wide shoulder my head is resting on. It was so good to see Nina really live. There was a fire and happiness in her eyes I haven’t seen before. Not since Ricky. God I could just kill that bastard for what he did to her. The only reason I didn’t load up the shot gun the minute I walked in on Nina that night is she begged me not to.
I’ll never forget that day. I walked into her apartment when she didn’t answer and froze at the scene I found in her kitchen. There were embers and ashes covering the sink and Nina stood staring at them as though they held the secrets to the Universe. I remember her eyes were distant, almost vacant, and cold. Like stone. I’d only seen that look once before and I feared the death of her parents had finally managed to break her. Then, without even turning around she spoke. The words that came out in her frozen whisper made me murderous. She didn’t let it break her though. Not my Nins.
I’ve been missing my best friend, though I would gladly sacrifice my time with her for her happiness. I feel Drake’s arm tighten around me, forcing a sigh of contentment out with my breath. Contentment. That’s something new for me. Is contentment happiness? Is this how Nina feels when Connor holds her? Even if it is, is that what defines her happiness? I can’t remember the last time I had felt either emotion in its true form. Sure I’ve had little diversions that made me smile or laugh, but true happiness, true contentment; it’s been years since I’ve had the pleasure of emotions like those.
When your life’s purpose is the atonement for someone else’s mistakes, things like happiness are hard to come by. For the last three years I’ve been pressured into making up for Nathan’s mistakes. It’s obvious my parents, my mom especially, feel as though if I live the perfect life, behave like the perfect daughter, it will somehow erase all the fault they carry with my brother. What they never managed to grasp is I’m not perfect. Nor do I want to be. For once, I would like to just be. Just live. Live only for me.
“I can hear the wool gathering in that thick skull of yours.” Drake’s deep rumble pulls me out of my own head and I smile up at him. “What were ya thinking about?”
I frown and rub my eyes to clear the alcohol induced fog that’s now taking root in front of my vision. “Nothing important, just family bull shit.”
“What kind of problems could your family have? Your parents seem great, and you certainly don’t need for anything with that big fancy apartment and riding club to keep you occupied.”
His dismissive snort sends my hackles up and my claws out. You don’t know anything about me! “You’re right. I have a big apartment, a big barn, a great job, wonderful parents and a best friend who I love more than anything. Wonderful parents who gave me that big apartment and big barn and great job with the understanding that I would be the perfect daughter who is conveniently under their thumb. Wonderful parents who love their little Lola Scarlet, who is beautiful and charming and will one day marry the son they never had. A son they can be proud of. And a broken best friend I didn’t protect and who I couldn’t fix.” I glare at Drake and spin towards the bar and practically slam my hand through the wooden top in my demand for a beer.
Just when I thought everything was going so perfectly he had to go and press the big red button. I truly had doubts about how well this little arrangement would work out between us until tonight. It had all happened so seamlessly, so smoothly I thought we might actually have a good thing going on. I should have known better than to get my hopes up.
I feel him before I see him. He stands behind me, a daunting physical presence at my back for at least five minutes before he speaks. “I’ve always hated people who judge other people.” Well, that’s not at all what I expected. I take a swig of my beer and wait for him to continue. “You can know everything there is to know about someone’s life, who their parents are, what they do for a living, how much money they have, the friends they hang out with, and never really know anything. People who seem simple on the surface, are usually the most complex.”
I do turn then, and Drake is standing behind me with his arms crossed, his hat down low and his mouth clamped in a straight line. Every aspect of his physical being is closed off, guarded, but the words he just spoke and the look in his eyes are wide open. During those three sentences I learn a lot about Drake Thomas. “Want to get out of here?” I say in response and he smiles.
Drake grabs my hand and hauls me past the bar and a group of guys who are causing a bit of a ruckus, much to the bartender’s dismay. “I could have taken him,” one of them says to his buddies who are looking sheepishly into their drinks and trying unsuccessfully to mask their chuckles. “I just didn’t want to give away my best moves,” he proclaims loudly. “That pussy didn’t even hit me.” The last he mumbles a little lower and everyone around him bursts into laughter. I start cracking up right along with them and use my free hand to wipe the tears out of my eyes.
“What’s so funny?” Drake mutters, obviously annoyed with my mirth at the young men.
“Nothing really, I just wonder if Connor knows about Nina’s Steven Seagal fetish.” This just makes me laugh harder and Drake shakes his head at me.
“You make no damn sense. Are you drunk, woman?”
“No, no I’m fine. Private joke. You wouldn’t understand.”
Driving back to the house in the truck, Dierks Bently starts playing a particularly energetic song and it must remind Drake how loud his music is because he launches forward to turn the knob down. Before his fingers can grasp the control I slap it out of the way, and his head jerks towards me in confusion.
“Don’t even think about turning Dierks down.” I make a slashing move with my hand and glare at him in utter seriousness.
“A celebrity crush?” He asks with a smirk on his face.
“No way,” I snort. “Little girls have crushes, Thomas. I want to have his babies. You know, in the sense that I won’t actually have his babies, but we will still try to make babies. You know, what I’m really saying is, I want to…”
“I got it, Chase.” This time it’s my head that jerks in his direction at the tone of his voice gritting out my last name. Even though it’s totally inappropriate at this juncture, I can’t help myself, I start laughing.
“It seems to be a talent of yours to laugh at things that aren’t really funny.” His tone isn’t nearly as annoyed as he tries to make it. “Care to let me in on this joke?”
“Oh, Drake.” I lean across the cab and pat his thigh as I take deep breaths to calm my laughter. “I haven’t laughed this much in a long time.” After wiping under my eyes I realize Drake is still looking at me expectantly. “Oh, right. It’s just that, you actually sounded jealous! That’s so ridiculous! I mean, it’s not like I’m ever going to actually meet this guy, and here you are, sitting right next to me puffing up like a caveman.”
Drake seems to contemplate that for a second and I see him look at me out
of the corner of his eye. “I’m not saying I was jealous, but I see what you mean. It is really stupid to be jealous of some famous guy you’ve never even met before. It’s not like you would be jealous of some random famous woman I think is attractive, like Penelope Cruz, or anything. Yea, you’re right. That would be really stupid.”
My laughter dies a quick death and my thoughts start to turn in circles. Penelope Cruz?! The Hispanic actress? Is that the type of girl he’s attracted to? I don’t look anything like her! She has black hair and big lips and dark eyes. And she’s short. If that’s the kind of girl he likes, what is he doing here with me? Oh man! She is really pretty though, and that accent is just adorable, but she’s way too… too… whatever. She is obviously SO wrong for Drake. It would never work out. I don’t even really like her very much. She is just really…short. And too sexy, I mean sexy is okay, but come on. What could he really see in a Mexican, midget, floozy like Penelope…Hey! Wait a minute…
Drake’s chuckling breaks me out of my unforgiving thoughts of poor, defenseless Penelope Cruz. After Drake’s deep rumbling laughter, I then notice my body language. My hands are fisted on the seat next to me, my eyes are narrowed on Drake and my nostrils are slightly flared. Damn! Jealousy is a bitch. I slowly resume my pre-Penelope-Cruz-hate-fest position and shake my head.
I lift my hand towards Drake and wait for him to high five me before muttering a reluctant, “Well played, Sir.”
The rest of the ride home I mull over my unusual bout of jealousy regarding Drake. When the hell did that happen? I’ve never been a jealous person. Ever. Or have I? Is it just Drake that does this to me? I look over at the man in question and just the sight of him gives me butterflies. No, not butterflies. Butterflies don’t quite do the trembling in my gut justice. These are freaking pterodactyls!! Huge, bird-like creatures are flapping around in my stomach just by looking at him.
This isn’t at all what I wanted. I have enough pressure in my life. I don’t need the pressures of a relationship, but these creeping feelings I have regarding the man next to me go beyond no strings attached. What the hell am I going to do?
As soon as we arrive at the house, I bolt inside to avoid having to face Drake with all my thoughts still at the fore front of my mind. This time, I have a feeling I’d have a hard time faking it. I shout a good night over my shoulder and lock myself in my room. I change into my usual silky night gown- I will never understand how people can wear pants to bed… Talk about uncomfortable!
The slide of the silk across my skin and the softness of my pillow leave me sighing in relaxation. Of course I can’t help my mind from continuing where it left off. If it’s not friendship I’m feeling for Drake then what is it. Infatuation? No, that’s not it. Not yet anyway. Attraction? Definitely. Though I think insane animal attraction better fits the description of what I feel when I look at Drake.
That’s not so bad though. So his messy black curls make me want to grab a handful and pull him in for a kiss. That’s perfectly normal. His hard, tan skin, pulled tight over his rows and rows of muscles make me want to lick him all over, and that too is just a natural response. He is an attractive man, and I’m a mature, sexually aware woman. There isn’t anything new or dangerous there. Nothing to be afraid of.
Then, there are his eyes. Inky black eyes like obsidian with flecks of silver. They remind me of a night sky; endless black night with only the stars to light its depths. Only, Drake doesn’t have a million stars to light all the shadows in his eyes; just one that sparks at the rarest occasions. I find myself wanting to stare into his eyes and never look away. I want to light up those eyes as much as I can. When the fuck did I become a poet! This is why I’m afraid. Therein lies the danger in getting too close to Drake.
My cool master suite is stifling and far too small. I get up and make my way to the kitchen for a glass of water. I chug the glass and go to set it in the sink when a hard wall presses against my back. I freeze mid motion and thick arms surround me as Drake takes the glass from my hand and deposits it in the sink. His lips brush the sensitive skin behind my ear and his breath creates a fog that invades my senses and sends chills all over my body.
“Why did you run, Lola?”
I consider lying to him and playing it off like I was just teasing him the whole time, but I’m tired of playing games. I want him, simple as that. Nothing more, nothing less. “I just needed to sort a few things out in my head.” I turn around and press my body flush against his and reach my hands into his tangled black hair like I’ve imagined a thousand times.
“Got it figured out yet?” He grasps my hips in his hands and pulls me tighter into his chest.
“I want you.” I say softly, but firmly and nip his bottom lip with my teeth to punctuate my declaration.
Drake’s eyes narrow, and for a second, I think I see anger flash across his endless black eyes. He opens his mouth and breathes deeply once as desire takes control again. “I’m going to hurt you, Lola. It’s out of my control now though. I’m sorry for that. I’d say I wish it was different, but that would be a waste of time.”
His words are absolutely sincere, and leave me with more questions then I already had, but I’ve gone too far down this road to head his warning now. “I’m a big girl, Drake. I promise you won’t break my heart, but if it makes you feel better, I can handle a little bit of pain.” I’m not sure where the words come from, but there it is. I’ve once again passed him the ball. This time, I’m sure of his response long before I even speak the words.
“You’re the only girl in the whole world who would promise something like that,” Drake says and brings his hand up to run his thumb across my lips. “I’ll try and help you keep that promise.” He doesn’t wait for my response and brings his lips to mine in a kiss unlike any other we’ve shared.
I’ve kissed a fair share of men, and there really isn’t any major difference from one kiss to the next. Tongues slide together before pulling out so the lips can connect and nip, and then they open again for more tongue action. Some are better at the mix of motions then others. It’s a simple formula really. I thought I knew all about kissing.
Drake slides his tongue softly across my lips, teeth, gums, tongue; gently, exploring, before feathering kisses and small bites across my lips to the corners of my mouth. He then dips back in to repeat the process, then sucks my bottom lip into his mouth then licks at the other. After he has satisfied himself with tasting every inch of my mouth, he then puts every French kiss in the history of kisses to shame.
I’ve never wanted to climb up someone’s body from just a kiss before, but that’s what I end up doing. I shimmy up his torso, sliding one leg around his hip, pull him with me back into the counter, scoot onto the ledge and then wrap my other leg around him hooking my ankles. He didn’t have to do a thing, and the ridge in his jeans tells me he doesn’t mind in the slightest.
Drake runs his hands up my thighs until they disappear under the hem of my nightgown, and a throaty rumble works its way past his lips when his fingertips reach my underwear. He rips his hands away, places both palms on my ass and holds me against him as he walks briskly through the kitchen to my room. As soon as we make it past the threshold, I pull my night gown over my head leaving me in only a thin strip of lace to cover the most intimate part of me, while I straddle a fully clothed Drake. Dreams do come true after all.
“You were naked though.” I say breathlessly as Drake peruses my bare skin with his lips.
“What are you talking about?”
Oh right. “Never mind. Just get naked already.”
“Happy to oblige,” he says and tosses me on the bed.
I bounce across the mattress, almost missing the spectacle of Drake shedding his clothes. I point to the dresser where I keep my stash of condoms. Drake doesn’t need to ask what I mean, he just walks over grabs a heaping handful and throws them on the bed.
“Feeling energetic?” I tease with an arched brow.
“I’d say horny is a better word
for it.” I giggle and crawl to the edge of the bed and reach for his hips.
“Yes, I can see that.” I say as I reach for his erection, only to have my hand secured before it could meet its target.
“No touching, Lola. Not till after I have you the first time. I can’t wait.” He reaches for my thong and runs his fingers along the straps on my hips. “It’s really too bad about your underwear,” he says then hooks the first two fingers of each hand around the thin scraps of lace and rips it from my body. Yes! I’ve always wanted someone to do that!
Drake goes to kiss me next, but I dodge him and crawl to the bedside table to pull one of the six or so condoms from the pile and rip open the package. “Put it on.” I demand and he wastes no more time talking, sheathing himself and lifting me up to the top of the bed. I immediately try to maneuver underneath him into the classic first-time-having-sex-together position and Drake lifts me back up and turns me around. With me kneeling in front of him, my back to his front, he takes both of my hands and places them on the lowest rung of the headboard, curling my fingers around the cold iron.
“Like this,” he says, running his fingers down my spine and grabbing my thighs. “This is how I imagined it in here, in this bed.” I feel his knees push my thighs apart and his hands grips my waist and pulls be back and down onto him. We meet in the middle, with his tip pressed against me for a mere moment before his grip tightens, and he pushes. In one deep thrust he seats himself inside me and my muscles clamp down on his invasion.
“Holyshitohmygod,” comes out in a garbled moan at the flash of pleasure his bold entrance sends through me.
“Just getting started, sunshine,” he says, then rocks back and slams forward, causing us both to moan and that is the end of his control.
Drake’s hips piston back and forth forcefully, driving into me at a bruising, unrelenting pace. My body to starts to move of its own accord, pushing back to meet his every advance and the friction of our combined efforts starts the slow tremble deep inside me.
Dark Universe (The Universe Series) Page 6
