I want that boy.
He’s going to be my first.
Swallowing, I admit the truth to myself.
I’m in love with him and I can’t freaking wait to give him my virginity.
21
“My boy said it’s okay for you to leave your car here. It’ll be safe,” Drew tells me once he returns. He’s holding two shopping bags in his hands. I’m curious as to what’s inside them, but don’t have a chance to ask him.
Drew reaches through the open window and unlocks my car again.
I have no idea what he has planned for us—for me. Doesn’t matter. When he murmurs to me in that rumbly, silky voice, “Turn off the car and get out here, baby,” I move faster than I’ve ever moved in my life.
Every inch of me is shaking as I exit the car, my legs almost too weak to hold me up. “Where are we going?” I ask him, biting my lip in an effort to control my nerves.
I want.
I want so much right now. Too hard. I’m hopeful. Scared. Excited.
I want him to tell me he’s taking me somewhere private, really private, where we can be all alone so he can make me his.
Where I can make him mine.
Only mine.
I think about Kaylee and all the other girls at school he’s probably slept with, and my body flushes with anger.
Then I remember his dick pumping in my hand, how beautiful he looked coming, and greed floods my veins like an unrelenting tidal wave.
“First, you and those sexy lips are coming here.” He wraps his free hand around my waist and brings me in.
I go willingly, wrapping my arms around his neck. Our lips meet on a wet slide.
He growls for me, low and hungry.
I moan, utterly desperate.
His tongue forces my mouth open and takes mine, tangling wetly. Pleasure spikes low in my belly. He squeezes my ass, ripping a whimper out of me.
He sucks the air right out of me, and I don’t care. My ribs are on fire from the need to breathe, but I kiss him harder. Press closer. Rub my aching body against him.
“Whoa, baby.” Groaning, Drew ends our kiss, his panting breaths hitting my wet lips.
My pussy clenches. My frantic fingers move along the back of his head, my hands curling to pull him to me.
His hand tightens on my ass and he licks my jaw. “Yeah, baby, I fucking need you, too.” He rocks his hips into me, blatantly rubbing his big dick against my lower abs. “But not here.” Grabbing my hand, he begins leading me toward his car.
“How about when we get to wherever we’re going?” I ask breathlessly.
Drew presses on the button to unlock his car and the lights flash. He opens the back and carefully places the bags inside. I hear what sounds like glass bottles clinking together. He closes the door and leads me round the side of the car to the passenger side.
I’m very aware he hasn’t answered my question, so I tug on his hand. “Drew?”
We make it to the passenger side before he seems to snap. Whirling around, he grabs me and presses me into the sleek, carbon gray surface of his car. His hands sift through my hair, fisting, pulling. Holding onto it like he’d been dying to grab it.
I get a kiss, one quick, hard kiss, and a low, rough warning. “Don’t tempt me, Lexi. I’m trying to do right by you.”
My hands slide up his abs, feeling each hard indentation, up, up, until both of his pecs are pressed to my palms.
There’s no common sense left in me, no other urge I care to focus on. I want to tempt him. More than anything.
So I do. I arch against the car, letting him feel my needy body on his, and beg him in a soft voice, “Kiss me, Drew. Please.”
“So fucking sweet,” he groans, giving me what I asked for, what I want. His lips, perfect, firm, owning mine. His tongue slick and unrelenting. Fucking mine.
And it’s not enough. Not enough. I need more. I have to be closer. I want him inside me, under my freaking skin if possible.
I need him so damn much that it fucking hurts, and I have to suck back a sob at the pounding agony.
Drew lifts me up with one arm around my waist and opens the passenger door. He places me inside and snaps the seatbelt around me as I struggle to catch my breath.
“Drew!” I’m giggling like an idiot, light-headed with happiness.
“Shush, baby. Let me take you where I want to take you and then I’ll take care of you.”
I shiver at his words, knowing what they mean now.
He just smirks at me mischievously before heading to his side of the car.
22
“What’s going on here?” Richard Drevlow, while seemingly not as cold and ruthless as his brother had been, is clearly not a man that likes to repeat himself.
I keep my eyes glued to him because looking at his nephew means certain death for me.
Even without looking at him, there’s no way I can escape the force of his stare.
“Leave us,” Andrew tells his uncle.
Clearly, dominance is a trait that runs in the family.
Andrew’s uncle actually seems to contemplate that request.
Silently, my gut tight with dread, I shake my head and beg him with my eyes to stay.
I underestimated that echo. In fact, it’s not an echo at all. It’s an all-out shriek in my system, this savage, unyielding force rushing hot through my veins.
Andrew’s mere presence flooded my mind, scratching at dead pieces of me, unearthing a part of me I’d believed long dead.
I lost the ability to lust after any man the day I ran from him. All I had for so long were the memories of him, that inexorable hold they had on me.
Then Stephen raped me and I lost all contact with the feminine side of my sexuality. It took me years to work past it enough to try having sex with anyone.
And when I finally decided to give Paul a chance, I did it for just that: to try. I felt nothing. No interest. No arousal.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Until a few seconds ago.
“Andrew, I need to speak with you for a moment.” Richard hasn’t looked away from me.
“No.” One word. No room for arguments.
Hands shaking, I straighten in my seat—a false show of resolve. I’m not resolved in any way. I’m ridiculously weak. “I need to get back to work if I’m going to finish the breakdown for the software prototype on time.”
“No, Lexi. We’re going to talk.” Andrews walks to me.
I bite down on the urge to bolt from my seat. “You’re already over budget and behind schedule—”
“Lexi, please.”
There’s raw, unfiltered desperation in his tone. The kind that can’t be faked.
I remember Stephen, drunk, belligerent, laughing bitterly. I remember his claim that, in the end, the thing that destroyed Andrew the most was me.
I didn’t believe that, either.
Refuse to believe it now.
I can’t believe it. Just can’t.
Oh God, this isn’t how this was supposed to go.
“Mr. Drevlow,” I address Richard, fighting for calm. “I would like to be left alone so that I can work on the coding.” Please, please, get your nephew out of here . . .
Andrew slams his hand on my desk. I jump with a gasp. “I don’t give a fuck about the coding!” That bellow, as loud as his scream was when he demanded to know where my office is, makes my head snap around.
Toffee-colored eyes, framed by those heavy, heavy lashes.
Hunger.
Insanity.
A pain so deep that it almost makes a mockery of my own.
“I waited seven years for you.” His voice breaks, his chest heaving with each breath. “You were all that mattered. You were all that kept me fucking going.” His eyes search mine, and I struggle not to cry. “Talk. To. Me.”
His uncle tries to get his attention. “Andrew.”
Andrew doesn’t acknowledge him.
I can’t . . . I can’t function under that look. If I
believe what he says . . . no, Lexi. This man conspired with his friends to ruin me. Just like his father once ruined mine.
Andrew admitted to the school board that he’d been in on the plan along with his fucking girlfriend Kaylee and his two best friends, Stephen and Barnard. They were all almost kicked out of the school mere days before graduation for what they did to me.
Maybe this is remorse. Unadulterated guilt. A guilt he’s lived with for almost a decade.
The thought infuriates me. “Mr. Drevlow, you either walk out of this office right now and leave me to do my work,” my voice shakes with anger,” or I’ll walk out of this building and disappear. And don’t doubt that I can.”
I’m bluffing. My mom is stuck in that hospital and I no longer have Stephen to help keep me hidden. Please, don’t realize this.
Andrew’s eyes bounce all over my face, landing on my mouth, growing darker, locking with my eyes again—
His hand snaps around the back of my neck. “Fine, but not before I remind you of something,” he growls.
His hot skin on mine. That growl. The violent greed in his stare.
Another gasp leaves me—a needy exhale.
Groaning, Andrew pulls me to him and fits his lips over my own.
23
After driving for about twenty minutes, Drew pulls off onto the side of the road. On our left, across the road, is nothing but thick woods.
On our right, it’s all open field, as far as the eye can see. And above that? Stars. Nothing but stars.
It’s breathtaking.
Drew turns off the ignition. I turn away from the view outside. He’s watching me in the dark, his face highlighted by the headlights.
My throat tightens at the way he stares at me. He’s completely focused, barely blinking. His eyes bore into mine.
I remember that look. He gave it to me when I kissed the corner of his mouth.
Right before he devoured my own.
“Drew?” My tone is low. Hungry.
God, how can I convince him to take me right here?
He pops his jaw, shifting restlessly in his seat. His hand reaches for mine, but he pulls back at the last second, curling it into a fist. “Come.” He exits the car in a hurry.
I follow him, disappointed. He gets the bags out of the back and opens the trunk to remove what seems to be a folded blanket. I stand here, watching him the whole time, hands tightly intertwined because all I want to do is reach out to him.
And I can’t.
I don’t have the guts to do so. Don’t know why, but he seems closed off right now, and I don’t know how to approach him.
Drew comes around the side toward me. “Let’s go.” He motions with his head toward the open field.
“Let me help you with that.” I reach my hand out to help him with one of the bags.
The corner of his mouth tilts up in a tender smile. “Here, baby. Just carry this.” He holds out the folded blanket.
Smiling at him, I take it, then follow him onto the grass. We don’t go far. Drew left the headlights of the car on, and I suspect he wants us close enough to their glow.
He stops. Placing the bags on the ground, he takes the blanket and spreads it out for us.
We sit together and he reaches into the bags. First, he brings out one of those cheese and crackers party platters. Next he brings out two bottles of wine, one red and one white. He gives me a rueful smile as he brings out two clear plastic cups. “If it was up to me, we’d be sitting in a really nice place, drinking out of real glasses.”
I shake my head, my heart in my throat. “This is perfect.” It’s impromptu, but no one has ever done anything this sweet for me before. “Thank you so much, Drew.”
He pauses in the middle of uncorking one of the bottles, eyeing me with that expression that makes me ache in my chest.
Between my legs.
Christ, my brain’s hurting as I stare at him.
“Lexi, baby. This is nothing. I plan to give you everything.”
“Oh, God. Drew. I—” I love you. I love you so damn much and I need you to feel the same way. Because if you don’t, it’s going to ruin me.
Drew leans toward me, pinning me with his gaze. “You what, Lexi?” There’s an urgency in his quiet tone, an inexorable demand.
He wants my answer and he wants it to be nothing but the truth.
I can’t give him that. I’m too afraid. “I’m just . . . I’m just really grateful.”
Expression soft, he leans over and kisses my cheek.
Exhaling roughly, I turn my head. The corner of my mouth skims along the corner of his. I don’t try to move away, but Drew fists my hair regardless, forcing me to stay where I am.
Just like at the gym.
My lips part with a whimper.
Groaning, he tilts his head, letting our lips skim each other.
A whisper of a touch.
Nothing but a tease.
I mouth his name against his lips, my chest racing too fast to form coherent words.
“Lexi.” He drags his teeth across my bottom lip, sucks on it a little, hungry sounds echoing in the back of his throat.
Shaking, I open my mouth to tell him that I want him to take me. I want him to be my first, and I want it to happen now.
He makes a strained noise, what sounds almost like a broken “no” and puts distance between us. His hands tremble as he uncorks the wine bottle and opens the cheese and crackers tray.
I swallow another round of disappointment—until Drew hands me a cup and says, “You see those stars up there? I’ve been thinking of showing you this view for a long time, baby. As long as I’ve been dreaming of making you my girl. So let’s take it easy for a bit, ‘K?”
24
I haven’t fully caught my breath since I walked into the office of that gym and saw Drew’s facial expression.
And he just keeps on taking my breath away, over and over.
Emotion clogs my throat, all the things I feel for him fighting to make themselves known. I nod at him instead of speaking, fear a tight band around my chest.
I love him. I love him too much, but I can’t tell him that yet.
Drew’s lips stretch into a devastating smile. “That’s my girl.”
I’m going to explode. No way my body can contain this much emotion.
He holds out the cheese tray to me. I take it with my free hand while he pours himself some wine.
“I’ve never drank before,” I confess.
He places the bottle on the grass besides the blanket and leans back on his elbow. His toffee-colored eyes twinkle with amusement. “You’ve never drank any type of alcohol before?”
I shake my head.
His smile is full of disbelief. “At all?”
Holding back a smile, I shake my head again. “Don’t make fun of me.” My face heats up and I’m grateful I’m facing opposite the car’s headlights. I’m inexperienced in every way, nothing like the girls he’s used to.
The last thing I want is him seeing me blush like some innocent little girl.
That sexy smile on his face turns tender, like he finds it adorable I’ve never drank before, and I can’t help but bristle.
Without thinking about it, I decide to throw back a mouthful of wine.
It’s dry. Like, really, really dry, and I’m unprepared. Clapping my lips shut, I try not to cough, or let the tears building in my eyes leak out. Eyeliner trails aren’t cute.
Drew tugs lightly on my earlobe. “Easy, baby. Especially the first time.”
A small cough escapes; I glare at him. “I’m not sure I like this one. It’s—” I cough again and cover my mouth before continuing. “—really dry.”
“Sorry.” He takes the cup from me and hurries to pour me some white wine instead. “Here. Just a little. Try it. Slowly.”
I raise the cup to my lips, careful not to chug it back this time.
Drew watches my mouth as I tentatively take another sip, the intensity in his eyes almost frightening.
I barely taste the wine. My lungs feel like they’re going to burst from lack of oxygen. Even so, I can’t stop staring at him while he stares hungrily at my mouth.
“Does that one taste better?” he asks, voice gruff.
“I don’t know,” I whisper back, not caring about the wine one bit. What I really want is to taste his lips again.
“Have another taste, then.”
Oh God, that tone. It’s getting lower, rougher, almost dangerous.
I clench my thighs together and lift the cup to my lips again. Somehow, I manage to take my time, hold the wine in my mouth long enough to actually process it.
He watches like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen—like he’d rather be watching nothing but me.
He makes me nervous and I’m only drinking wine!
“So?” His eyebrows rise, but his eyes don’t move one bit. The way he stares at my lips fills me with wanting.
I don’t think I’m going to be able to restrain myself much longer; I want to kiss him again so badly. Staring at his lips, I lick my own, wondering how he’ll react if I just grab his face and kiss him.
“Baby?”
Fuck, I shiver every time he calls me that. He makes me feel absolutely crazy. “It’s good . . . sweeter.”
“Good.” He gives me his cocky, happy smile, pleased at himself for picking out a wine I like. “Now we’re going to catch up.”
The buzz in my veins grows stronger, morphing from excitement to anxiety. I don’t know why. Maybe because my life isn’t anywhere near as interesting as his is.
I rather speak about what goes on in his life rather than what goes on in mine.
I shift nervously. “What do you mean catch up?” He won’t stop watching me. Is he even blinking?
“I want to know everything, Lexi. Everything you’ve been up to these last eight years.”
My heart beats harder. Talking to him about this makes me uncomfortable.
And then he asks me the one question I really don’t want to answer.
The one question sure to bring up the darkness that stands between us.
“How’s your mom doing?”
Systematic Siege: Provocative Tendencies #2 (SSPT #2) Page 2
