Authors: Lisa de Jong
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Contemporary
Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I evaluate the outfit Kate helped me pick out. The skirt is red, form fitting and short … it definitely doesn’t pass the straight-arm test. I’m more comfortable with the black off-the-shoulder sweater she picked to go with it, though. The heels, on the other hand, are killer. I stand at least four inches taller than I normally do.
Thank God Drake’s six-four.
“Kate, Drake’s not going to like this.”
Kate comes up behind me, seeing exactly what I see. “Oh, he’ll like it. He just won’t like watching other guys like it.”
I laugh, pulling some of my curls in front of my shoulders. “That’s not likely to happen.”
“You’ll see,” she says, walking back to her closet.
“You don’t strike me as the type who enjoys this club stuff,” I say honestly. Kate’s a lot like me … we both work hard and generally lay low.
Pulling out a black corset, she holds it in front of her. “I didn’t think I was either, but Beau thought I should try it once, and it was fun. It’s different than parties, you know? There’s a few more rules and a little less, uh, nakedness going on.”
“Well, that’s reassuring,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“You’re going to have fun. You’ll see.” She holds up a green halter-top next. “Which one do you like better?”
“The green, no question.”
“I knew you’d say that.”
While she finishes getting dressed, I put my money and ID into my black clutch. I check my phone, anxious for ten o’clock to roll around. Things are so new, and I guess I’m afraid that if we’re apart too long, he’ll change his mind and pull back again.
“How do I look?”
I look up at Kate and smile. She looks like a typical country girl: green halter-top, denim mini skirt, and worn cowboy boots. “You look like you.”
She grimaces, sticking her hands in her pockets. “If you don’t want to wear that, it’s okay. I mean, I want you to be comfortable.”
“You know, it would probably be good for me to take a risk every once in a while.”
She laughs. “That’s not really what I’d call a risk.”
A knock at the door interrupts us. Kate runs in front of the mirror, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. “It’s time.”
I’m relieved when she opens the door. I need a few more seconds to prepare myself for what’s about to come. Right away, Beau whistles, spinning Kate around in a circle. His smile is as wide as I’ve ever seen as his bright eyes drink her in.
Behind them is Drake, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeve black button-down, rolled up his forearms. He can make the simplest outfits look good. I stand nervously, one leg crossed over the other as he walks my way.
I expected big eyes or a smile, but instead he wears a scowl on his strong features. “You need to change your skirt,” he says, low enough that only I can hear him.
I follow his gaze, getting an eye full of my bare legs. “What’s wrong with it?”
He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me into his body. “If you do anything but stand still in that damn thing, there’s not going to be anything left to the imagination.” He leans in, pressing his lips to the spot right under my ear. “I’m the only one who doesn’t have to use his imagination, Em, and I want to keep it that way.”
A shiver runs the length of my body. This whole taking things slow stuff is harder than I thought. “This skirt’s so tight it’s not going anywhere. Besides, I’m yours no matter what anyone does, says, or sees. You should know that by now.”
“Stay by me tonight, got it?”
I nod, looking up at him with wide eyes.
He growls, lifting my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re killing me.”
“I didn’t make the rules.”
He kisses me lightly a couple times over. “Fuck the rules.”
Beau clears his throat from behind Drake. “Do you guys want us to leave you alone or are you coming?”
“We’re coming,” Drake answers, pulling away from me. His fingers find mine, guiding me toward the door.
Beau only has room in his truck for two so Drake takes me in his own car. Honestly, I’m relieved to be alone with him. It’s when I feel the most comfortable.
“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” he asks out of the blue. It’s only a little over a week away, and I haven’t given it any thought.
“I haven’t decided yet. I should go home because my dad will be alone, but I don’t know if I want to.”
“I can’t go home that weekend because we have a game on Friday … last one of the season,” he says as we pull into downtown.
It’s a lot more vibrant than campus with bright lights and sidewalks full of people. I’ve been in Iowa City for a couple months, but I haven’t gotten out much. It’s sad when I think about all the things I could be missing out on while I’m buried in my own little world.
“Do you want company?” I ask, turning my attention back to him.
He pulls into an empty parking spot along the street. “I don’t want to hold you back. You should be with your dad.”
Without waiting for my response, he opens his door, walking around the front of the car to my side. He helps me out, wrapping my hand in his again.
As soon as we’re on the sidewalk, I tug on his arm, halting us in place. “I want to stay here with you. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t … you should know that by now.”
With one quick motion, my chest is pressed against his, his lips an inch from mine. “I want you here with me.”
Brushing some hair from his forehead, I say, “Sounds like we’re spending Thanksgiving together.”
“I’ll get you a ticket to the game. It’s the biggest one of the year, you know? Southern Iowa versus Nebraska. If we don’t win, I’m going to hear about it for the next twelve months.”
“You’ll be fine, football stud,” I tease, kissing his cool lips.
He releases me, leading us toward a brick building with a red door. It’s nothing special on the outside, but two large bouncers standing guard.
Squeezing Drake’s hand, I ask, “How old do you have to be to get in here?”
“Eighteen. You’re fine,” he replies, bumping my shoulder with his.
The bouncers check our IDs and collect the cover before allowing us through the door.
“Do you want something to drink?” Drake asks, pulling us through the crowd that stands inside the entryway.
“Can we find Beau and Kate first? They should be here by now.”
He laughs, pointing to the corner near the dance floor. “Found them.”
I guess sometimes it pays to be tall, because I’m having trouble seeing what he’s seeing. Noticing my struggle, he grips my hips and hoists me up. “See them now?”
Kate’s up against the back wall on the dance floor while Beau stands between her parted legs
. His hands circle her hips, and his head is buried in her neck. They’re definitely here, and they’re definitely enjoying each other. “I’ll take a water.”
He puts me down, pressing his lips to my cheek. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
I wring my hands as I watch him disappear into the crowd. Being alone in the center of a packed club is not my idea of a good time. Guys stare me down as they walk past, while a few girls give me a sideways glance. I do my best to keep my eyes on Drake, silently begging him to hurry up and get back over here.
When I’m about ready to give up and join him at the bar, a Tyga song pumps through the club, setting my body in
motion. Growing up, we always listened to country because Dad got to control the radio dial, but inside I’ve always been a closet hip-hop fan. Country is for when I’m feeling down or just want something mellow in the background while I study. Hip-hop ignites me, giving me energy when I have none.
After a few verses, I’m completely lost in the song. My shoulders, hips, and feet all move to the beat. It’s the most relaxing, freeing feeling in the world. As the music speeds up, I close my eyes, burying my fingers in my hair.
I hear low whistles and open my eyes. I’m surrounded by a group of men, but right in front of me is Drake. I stare into his hooded eyes as his tongue sweeps across his lower lip. There’s at least 300 people packed into this club, but right now, it feels like we’re the only ones in the room.
I’ve lived nineteen years in a safe little box, but when I feel what I do right now, I wonder why I stayed there so long. I feel so freaking alive.
Without taking my eyes off Drake, I begin to move my hips again. The music’s bumping. Smoke is filling the dark room. Lights are flashing in and out. I’m lost in the moment … Drake’s lost in me.
I want his hands on me, covering every inch of my skin. I want his warm lips on my neck. He starts toward me, and when I’m close enough to touch, he grips my hips tightly, pulling them to his. His hardness is pressed between my legs; clothes are the only things keeping us from doing what my body is now craving.
He wraps his arm around my lower back, keeping me close while his lips cover every inch of my jawline. “You’re so sexy, Em. So sexy.”
The music picks up again, his legs mingled with mine. His hot mouth exploring my neck. I’ve never been more turned on in my whole life. I don’t even care that others are watching us.
One of his hands brushes my hair away from my neck, holding it there, while the other finds its way up the back of my shirt. I need to get out of here. Soon. “Drake,” I pant, hating myself for interrupting him. I freaking love what he’s doing to my body.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here, Em. Now.” He kisses me on the mouth for the first time since we started dancing and looks deep into my eyes.
I nod, just as anxious to get out of here. His hands move
down my ass, tugging my skirt down as far as it will go. He’s guarding what’s his, and I want to take care of what’s mine.
I need him tonight.
He grabs my hand in his, pushing us through the crowd. “Do you think I should go tell Kate we’re leaving?” I ask, looking over my shoulder.
He doesn’t miss a beat. “Text her.”
I’m not going to argue with that.
When the door opens, the cool air hits my skin, and it feels amazing. Drake and that club were just too much.
He’s quiet, moving us as fast as he can with my tall heels on. He quickly unlocks the door and opens it for me. I step down from the curb, ready to climb in, but he has other plans for me, wrapping his arm around my waist to pull me to him again. He kisses me like he’s been deserted on an island for years and is seeing me for the first time. He’s so hungry, and it’s making me so damn needy.
“I don’t want to stop,” he groans, kissing the corner of my mouth.
“I don’t want you to.”
“I need to be inside you, Emery.” He stares at me a little too long.
“Why are we standing here then?”
He practically shoves me in the car and runs to the driver’s side. His hand settles on my bare thigh as he drives as fast as legally possible to get us back quickly.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks as we pull into the parking lot.
“Drake, I’m so turned on right now, if you don’t take care of it, we’re going to have a problem.”
“Fuck,” he says under his breath.
When the car stops, I hop out before he has a chance to open my door for me.
The anticipation.
The wait.
It’s all making me crazy.
Drake walks behind me, his hands on my hips. I use my key to get us through the door and start up the steps.
“Is this as fast as you can go?”
“Heels, Drake.”
“Fuck it,” he says, lifting me in his big strong arms. He carries me the distance, only putting me down when we reach my door. I quickly unlock it and enter. The door clicks behind me, and seconds later his hand touches my stomach, pulling me back into his hard chest.
I want to savor it. I want him to touch me, to kiss me, but I also need him deep inside me sooner rather than later.
His fingertips trail up my stomach to the space between my breasts before tracing my collarbone. Every nerve in my body tingles.
“Dance with me, Em,” he whispers, his warm breath tickling my ear.
Leaning my head back against his shoulder, I circle my hips again, purposefully rubbing against his hard cock. He squeezes my shoulders then slides his hands down to my breasts, his palms brushing against my nipples.
“Drake.”
His teeth graze my earlobe, and I moan. I can’t take it anymore. I want to face him, but his grip on me is too tight.
He walks us forward until my knees hit the bed. “Do you trust me?” he asks, tracing small circles on my stomach.
I nod. I trust him with everything I have right at this moment.
“How much do you need me, Em?”
“Now, Drake.” I’m done talking.
I hear
the zipper on his jeans and more moisture instantly pools between my legs. “Put your hands on the bed.”
All reason is gone. I don’t care what he’s going to do as long as he does it soon. His fingers grasp the bottom of my skirt, pulling it up over my ass. My panties are next, being pulled down to my knees. Not even a second later, the tip of his cock is teasing my entrance.
I want him so bad.
“Please,” I beg, rolling my hips.
In one motion, he presses all the way into me. The sensation, the way he fills me, is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. He thrusts into me over and over again. It’s carnal. Erotic. If I could talk right now, I’d be begging for more.
His hands cup my breasts, circling underneath them while his thumbs run across the top of my nipples. I love this side of him. I love that he makes it feel okay to do things I never thought I’d do.
“How does that feel?”
I moan, unable to speak.
His fingers find their way between my legs, applying pressure where I need them. “Let go, Em.”
His words are enough for me. My muscles clench tightly around him, over and over again. It feels so damn good; I have trouble controlling my screams.
He follows, groaning as he pumps into me, as his fingers dig into my flesh. “Fuck.”
His arms wrap around my stomach, his chest pressed to my back. I feel the rapid beat of his heart. It’s overpowering, like his heart is mine.
Maybe it is.
“Feel better?” he asks, kissing the center of my back.