Dark Universe (7 page)

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Authors: Devon Herrera

BOOK: Dark Universe
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I vaguely hear him get up and follow me the rest of the way to the apartment.  I walk into the house and to the bathroom and immediately turn the shower to steaming hot.  I feel Drake walk into the bathroom behind me, and I turn around and give him my best scowl.  He smiles and shakes his head.  “Don’t even think about trying that one, Lo.  You started this,” he says, and I growl at him a little before turning back to the shower.  I’m so cold I don’t even care Drake is standing only a few inches away from me; I start to strip off my wet clothes, desperate to get into the warmth the shower has to offer.

I hear Drake catch his breath behind me and when my underwear hits the tile floor with a slap, I swear he stopped breathing completely.  This all registers in my mind, and I’m silently reveling in his reaction.  I’m also just really fucking cold.  I pull the curtain away and step into the tub and under the spray.  I yelp the first time the spray hits my frozen body but as the hot water starts to soak through the cold, a soft moan follows.  My brain has finally turned back on now that I’m warm and I notice I never heard Drake leave the bathroom.  In fact, I have no idea why he followed me to my apartment when he could have just gone back to his loft.

 I move to peak out of the shower and see if he is still in the bathroom. I spot the closed door, a pair of boots on the rug, and jeans draped over the sink just as the opposite end of the curtain slides across the pole in my direction.  Within seconds the large tub is suddenly completely full of a very naked Drake Thomas.  I’m pretty certain my eyes bulge out of my head as I take in his naked form.  Calm, cool, sexually confident Lo has officially left the building, and drooling, incoherent and sexually deprived Lola has taken her place. 

Drake reaches one hand out and places it safely on my waist.  My lids lower to half-mast and I lean towards him, ready to throw my body into his, completely throwing my no sex yet rule out the window.  His free hand lands on my other side just as he takes one baby step towards me, before spinning us so he is now directly under the warm spray.  He tightens his hold on my waist as soon as his back hits the cascade of water and then releases me to wipe the water out of his face and push his dripping locks out of his eyes.

At this point I feel like I might explode with wanting him, but I’m not ready to let him win just yet.  I play this game better than anyone, damn it!  I smile seductively and lean my head across his chest to dampen my hair in the water before pulling back and flinging it over my shoulder.  I then reach behind him, grazing his perfect ass with my knuckles to pull my loofah from the hook in the corner and squeeze a large dollop of my black currant and vanilla body wash onto it.  I create a good lather, pretending to be completely focused on my task, knowing Drake has no choice except to watch my every move in such small confines.  I dramatically slide the sponge down one arm and then the other before bending down to repeat the motion on my legs, slowing as I reach the tops of my thighs. 

When I straighten, Drake’s entire body is stiff and his eyes are riveted to the soap trailing down my skin.  And I mean his. Entire.  Body.  Is.  Stiff.  I start to bring the loofah up to my chest when it’s snatched out of my hand.  Drake places the loofah back on my skin where I left off and has moved dangerously close.  He brings his free hand around me to press into the small of my back, as he meticulously washes every inch of my breasts.  His eyes lock with mine and he puts pressure on the hand resting at my back to bring us back under the spray to rinse off the soap.  I stare through pouring water and into smoky eyes, silently pleading for him to kiss me. 

The sponge rasps against our legs as it drops to the floor and Drake’s large palm is covering my now very clean breast.  His head leans forward, and his mouth brushes mine in a gentle kiss before moving to the corner of my lips, then across my jaw and finally down my neck.  I feel one gentle peck at my collar bone and then his hand moves from my breast as his mouth takes over.  I arch into him gasping at the sensations the suction of his warm mouth is making.

He makes sure to keep one hand occupied stroking one nipple, while his mouth works on the other, before switching, never leaving one unattended, and giving the same attention to both.  It’s as if my boobs are living things that can get jealous of one another.  The thought makes me chuckle before I can stop it. 
Ridiculous!

“You know, that’s not the reaction I usually get in this situation.”  He whispers before nipping my ear. 

I gasp at the slight sting and that’s when my patience breaks.  “I’ve heard of delayed gratification, but do you think we could get to the good stuff any time soon.”  To punctuate my words I summon every ounce of boldness I possess and grip his length in my hand.

My back hits the wall so hard I feel every grove and edge of the square tiles behind me.  I barely manage a surprised gasp before Drake’s mouth slams into mine.  He pulls one of my legs up harshly to hook around his hip and grinds the other hand between my thighs.  I flinch in surprise and barely have enough time to take in a breath before he’s is back on me, thrusting his tongue in time with his fingers.  When I struggle to keep up with the kiss, I rip my face away from his and drag in a lungful of air that is accompanied by my whimper. 

Drake is not hindered in the slightest and his lips seek my jaw and then my neck, biting and scraping and kissing his way across every inch of skin he can get to.  The whiplash his sudden change in demeanor gives me sends my head spinning. I’ve seen Drake quiet, teasing, and especially annoyed.  I’ve never seen him lose control.  I like it.  A lot. 

The pressure begins to spiral out of control causing me to lose my train of thought.  Drake must sense the change in me because he growls into my neck just as I’m reaching the top of the peak.  I turn my head when Drake raises his and he looks down into my eyes and his are the blackest I’ve ever seen them.  Like liquid obsidian.  He brings his head down and kisses me softly, then runs the pad of this thumb on my sweet spot with just enough pressure to send me off.

In that moment I wave goodbye to calm, cool, collected Lola Chase as she stands on the edge of the cliff the rest of me was just pushed off of.  She smirks down at me as I fall, keening obnoxiously, and probably wearing the most ridiculous smile on my face.  In those thirty seconds or more of suspended time, I shed my defenses and just feel.  When I finally surface from the depths of my climax, I realize something.  Feelings, especially strong ones, are quite scary. 

As startled as I am, I’m no coward, so I open my eyes and brace myself, only to find Drake has closed his.  Both of his hands are clenched on my waist and he’s placed as much distance between us as he can with both arms extended.  He’s barely breathing and when I push off of the wall he waits a moment until he’s sure I’m steady before dropping his hands and turning back into the spray of the shower.  He never once opens his eyes. 

I’m almost grateful for the moment to gather my wits, but there is still an irritating twinge lodged in my chest from his reaction.  I refuse to be the one who loses their shit over this.  So he gave me an orgasm.  It’s not my first.  There is nothing special about this orgasm.  It was just a normal, everyday, average orgasm. 
Why do I keep thinking the word “orgasm?” 
I shake my head and giggle at my wayward thoughts, and Drake finally turns and raises his eyebrows at me.  I smirk back at him and grab my shampoo, squirting a big dollop into my hand before running my hands through my hair. 

I hum and scrape my nails against my scalp through my tresses, then step under the spray forcing Drake to the side as I wash the suds out.  I step back out and repeat the process with my conditioner, noting the way Drake seems at a loss of what to do.  When I’m finished I smile at Drake and step out of the shower.  Locating my towel on the rack behind the toilet I dry off and wrap up.  I open the door to walk out and stop at the threshold for a moment before speaking. 

“Drake.”

He coughs and clears his throat before answering.  “Yea.”

“I was going to tell you before our little water fight that I want to go out tonight.  My best friend and her new man are going to meet us out there after dinner.”

“Us?” he asks, and I notice the outline of his body through the curtain has gone completely still. 

“Uh, yea us.  We had a deal, Thomas; don’t think that one little orgasm is going to get you out of it.”

There is a slight pause, and I wonder if he heard me.  “Little?” he asks, and I roll my eyes at the smug tone I hear in his voice. 

“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. 

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