Fire & Ice ~ The Drake Legacy: Book One (2 page)

BOOK: Fire & Ice ~ The Drake Legacy: Book One
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Here goes nothing, I thought, approaching the imposing wooden door. And remember what Lauren told you: try to picture him naked.
 

I looked at the polished brass nameplate fixed to it: Xander Drake, then timidly knocked on the door.
 

“Come in,” a voice called from behind it.
 

I took a deep breath, then pushed open the door, and standing there before me was the most arrestingly handsome man I’d ever set eyes on.
 

Chapter Three
 

§

Take Me

Xander Drake was absolutely
beautiful
— a description I would not apply lightly to man or woman. As I stepped into the cool, air-conditioned room, I felt my heart pounding hard in my chest and my eyes unable to look away from his dark, chiseled, and brooding face.
 

His eyes were big and black, his jaw strong and sculpted, his deep brown hair thick and full and shining, with a slight curl to it which he’d kept under control with some sort of pomade. His skin was so incredibly pure — almost as if he’d been airbrushed! — and I found myself searching his face for any kind of imperfection, unable to find anything apart from a faint, inch-long scar just to the left of his mouth. His lips were lovely and full and there was the faint darkness of stubble on his chin and jaw.
 

Just picture him naked
, I heard Lauren say again, and I felt a deep blush rise to my cheeks as I actually found myself imagining undoing his tie, slipping off his perfectly-fitted navy blazer, tearing off that crisp, starched white shirt with my nails, the buttons popping off everywhere, in order to reveal what I imagined was a broad, sculpted, and muscular chest beneath.
 

And as I tried to wrestle the image out of my mind, I instead found myself going further: imagining unbuckling his suit pants, too, pulling them feverishly down around his thick, tanned thighs, and then in a whirlwind of animal lust, falling right to my knees in front of him, my face only inches away from the temptingly thick round bulge of his white cotton briefs. I imagined tugging these down, too, and then his cock springing free, already swelling with hardness before my eyes, the heat radiating from it as I brought my eager, parted lips slowly towards it …

With a jolt, I came back to earth, realizing that Mr Drake was saying something to me, one thick dark eyebrow raised in a quizzical expression and a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Cassie?” he said. “Cassie Lawrence?”

“Th-that’s me …” I stammered, feeling my cheeks burning as I tried to get the image of Mr Drake’s thick, hard cock out of my mind and instead focus on the task at hand: not completely screwing up this interview.
 

“Take a seat, Cassie,” he said, somewhat sternly, gesturing to the plush leather seat in front of his desk, which he in turn sat down behind.
 

The wall behind him was made entirely of glass, and I could make out the glinting peaks and spires of a whole metropolis just past his shoulders. I’d never seen the city from so high up before, and it looked amazing, beautiful, magical, and I tried to focus on
this
now, tried to push away the sexy images that were still floating around my head: mainly of Mr Drake’s sweaty, muscular, naked body.
 

And as I sat down opposite him, I tried desperately to ignore the throbbing, tingling feeling between my legs, and the stiffened, rock-hard buds of my nipples; this was no longer simply down to the over-zealous air conditioning.
 

I took a deep breath and looked him in the eye, and again my stomach flipped over on itself.
 

“Okay, let’s start with a few simple questions …” he began, his rich, deep, sonorous voice immediately soothing me into a calm, almost dreamlike state.
 

It was like his eyes were two large black pools and I was swimming around in them, absolutely transfixed.

And so Xander Drake asked me his questions, and if I am completely, one-hundred percent honest, I have absolutely
no idea
what I said in response. I mean, sure, I could feel my mouth moving and I could sense that strings of words were flooding out of it, but if I try to remember the interview part itself, I have absolutely
no clue
what it was that I said. My heart was too busy pounding loudly in my ears and I felt myself shifting forward a little in my chair, which was placed directly opposite his.
 

As Mr Drake continued to talk, I felt the breath tightening in my chest and the pulse quickening in my veins, and I stared long and deep into his large black eyes, uncrossing my legs for him, feeling my thighs parting a little and my nipples throbbing beneath the satin cups of my bra as I once again imagined myself running my fingertips over that broad chest, then pressing my lips gently onto his, feeling his warm, wet tongue sliding slowly into my mouth … and then …

“Well, I think that’s everything, Cassie,” he said, busting me out of my trance, smiling for the first time, just a brief flash of human warmth, then looking down at the jotter on his desk. He scribbled a few final notes — I noted with surprise that his handwriting was incredibly elegant and refined, the kind you might see on old letters from a previous age — then he looked up at me again and nodded.
 

“We’ll be in touch,” he said, that cool businesslike coldness returning once more to his voice.
 

“Thanks,” I replied, getting unsteadily to my feet and following him back out into the office area on my weak, wobbly legs, just praying to God that I didn’t fall flat on my face before I got out of the building again.
 

I made my way back through to the elevators, Mr Drake following just a few steps behind me, all the while feeling his burning hot eyes on me, wondering if he was taking in my ass the way other men often did …
 

“Hopefully we’ll see you again soon,” he said, waving me off as the elevator doors slid closed behind me.
 

§

Back downstairs in the lobby, I looked around me, frantically scanning the imposing marble-floored room for the sign to the bathrooms. I spotted the little wooden door in the far corner and made a direct line for it. With a sigh of relief, I found that the small bathroom was completely empty.
 

With a beating heart and a fluttering stomach, I quickly locked myself in the farthest cubicle from the way in, and then, with my back pressed against the door, I eagerly tugged at the zip of my skirt, loosening the waistband so that I could slip my trembling fingers into my thong, noting with surprise that the tightly cropped curls of my pubic hair were already completely slick and wet with my warm juices.
 

I ran my fingers back and forth over my hot, swollen clit, working it in tight little circles until, not long later, with a muffled whimper, I came hard against my own fingers, pressing my yearning ass back against the wooden cubicle door, my young body bucking and my head spinning with x-rated images of Xander Drake taking me, however he wanted: in my pussy, my ass, my mouth …

Chapter Four

§

Big Sticky Cocktails

The call came through the following morning, an icy-cold October Friday, just as I was stepping out of the shower, the water dripping off my skin. I quickly wrapped a tatty old towel around me and ran through to the bedroom, where my battered cellphone was buzzing frantically on the dresser like it had a life of its own. I’d assumed it would most likely be my mom calling again, to ask how things had gone and try - once more - to convince me to give up on my dream in the city, but when I picked up the phone the display instead said UNKNOWN NUMBER.
 

“Hello?” I answered, a little cautiously.
 

“Cassie,” the rich, deep, sonorous voice said in reply, and once again I felt my cheeks flush with heat as I realized who it belonged to. It was like his voice had some sort of magical, aphrodisiac effect on me.
 

“Hello,” I said timidly.
 

“I’m just calling,” Mr Drake continued, to let you know that we’d like to offer you the job.”

“NO WAY!” I blurted out, immediately cringing at myself afterwards, realizing just how silly and school-girl-like I must have sounded right there and then. I quickly attempted to correct myself. “I mean, wow, that’s absolutely
fantastic
!” I said, trying to put on a more grown-up voice; the kind of voice I imagined the rich men and women who populated his world spoke to each other in.
 

“Well, I’m glad you’re pleased,” he laughed, obviously not taken in by my attempt at sophistication. But there was genuine warmth in that laugh too; I could tell. He wasn’t just making fun of me, I knew that much at least. “You were great in the interview,” he added.
 

I smiled to myself, wondering just what in the world I’d told him. As he continued to talk, I let my free hand absentmindedly drift down to my side, running beneath my towel, up my smooth, still-damp thigh, and then reaching once more the closely-cropped curls of my pubic hair. A delicious shiver ran through me as my fingertip gently brushed, just once, against my tingling, throbbing clit, just as Mr Drake said, “Can you start on Monday morning?”
 

“Sure,” I cooed, softly, feeling my own gooey warm wetness spreading as my finger slipped — seemingly with a mind of its own! — between the hot, swollen lips of my sex.
 

“See you then, Cassie,” he said, hanging up on me before I could reply.
 

I dropped the phone on the dresser, then fell back dizzily onto the bed, once more overcome with such naughty, devious thoughts, the likes of which I’d never had before. I spread my legs wide, my hand once again working at my clit, my towel falling open around me, the drops of water from the shower cooling deliciously on my pale, goose-pimpled flesh. And as I masturbated, I looked at myself between my own spread legs, there in the floor-length bedroom mirror at the foot of my bed.
 

I looked at my fingers urgently plunging in and out of the sweet dark wetness between my legs, and at my small pink nipples, which had stiffened into hard puckered points, and I wondered if Mr Xander Drake had felt any kind of attraction towards
me
, too, or if it was all just in my dizzy, swirling head …
 

§

“No way, that’s awesome!” Lauren squealed when I told her the exciting news. “Okay, I’m taking you out for celebratory drinks, young lady,” she continued, “and just so you know: I’m not taking no for an answer!”

So that Friday night it was decided; we were to go out to the swanky new cocktail bar that had recently opened in Lauren’s neighborhood and when I finally arrived she insisted on paying for round after round of big sticky cocktails.
 

The place was packed and noisy - disco lights dappled the walls with their spinning, swirling colors and the music pulsed and throbbed around us, as we sat and talked and laughed and drank in our little circular booth in the back corner.
 

Soon my head was spinning and we were both tipsy and giggling and for once I actually felt free and happy, the way I imagined you were
supposed
to feel in your twenties, finally secure in the knowledge that — unless I did something monumentally stupid and screwed everything up — I finally had a real job to go to on Monday morning!
 

“So let me get this straight,” Lauren said, leaning in across the table, her tongue all blue from her Electric Iced Tea, “you don’t actually know what your job entails?”

I nodded, explaining for the third time that evening just how weird the interview had been: how I’d talked and talked but had pretty much
no recollection
of what I’d said.
 

“It sounds like some sort of David Blaine trick,” Lauren grinned. “He’s probably controlling you with his mind … Wait, did you do the imagining him naked trick?” Lauren’s cheeky grin widened, and when I didn’t reply but just blushed a little and took another sip of my Pina Colada, her eyes lit up like the winning jackpot on a slot machine. “So he’s
hot
?”
 

I nodded.
 

“Oh, okay,
now
it all makes sense …” she said, giggling and slapping the table.
 

“Shut up, it’s not like that.”
 

“What’s his name?” she continued.
 

And knowing Lauren, I knew that she wouldn’t rest until she’d wrung out every single tiny, juicy last detail, so with a sigh I realized that I’d have to fess up and tell her the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God …

“Xander,” I said. “Xander Drake.”

It felt weird to say his name out-loud, and when I did, I felt a naughty little tingle of excitement run right through me, like an invisible finger had traced its way up and down my spine.
 


Xander
?” Lauren echoed with a laugh. “WTF? Is anyone really
called
that? He sounds like some sort of super hero or something!”

“He’s nice … I think,” I said quietly, surprised at myself by how defensive I was being. Normally, I was open with Lauren about everything.
 

“How much do you
actually
know about him?” she persisted, her smile now turning into a more serious, worried-about-you expression.
 

“Not that much …” I answered, which was the truth.
 

Since the interview, I’d searched around online a little more, and all I’d been able to find out was that he was heir to a huge family fortune, and that in the years following his father’s death, he’d started out Glacis Inc on his own. The rumors were that he’d invested all his inheritance in the business and built it up from scratch, while other online voices suggested that he’d started the company
without
any financial aid and that all the Drake inheritance had gone to a mysterious brother … It sounded like something out of a freaking soap opera, and I was wary - as always - not to just straight-up believe every silly little thing I read on the internet.
 

BOOK: Fire & Ice ~ The Drake Legacy: Book One
11.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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