Loving Drake

Balancing married life and running a business could be beyond tiresome, but Lily was bent on making both sides of her life thriving and happy, and she did. For a while anyway.

Perfect life.

Perfect husband.

Could we really have it all?

Loving Drake

(A Lily’s Mistake Novella)

By

Pamela Ann

Loving Drake

(Lily’s Mistake Novella)

Copyright © 2013 by Pamela Ann

All rights reserved
.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without a written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

Love is our true destiny.

We do not find the meaning

Of life by ourselves alone—

We find it with another.

- Thomas Merton

Becoming Mrs. Drake Tatum

It was the day after we got back from our honeymoon from Mexico when I realized that nothing would ever be the same, that I had a man to take care of me—Drake, my husband, my childhood sweetheart, my one true love.

At first, he insisted that I take some time off and just enjoy not doing anything, but I wasn’t that kind of woman. You see, I considered myself independent, strong-willed and did what I wanted. On top of that, I had a cupcake business to run with Masie, my best friend.

So, yes, I had my hands full, yet most of all, the most important task was knowing how to be a wife to a man like Drake. I didn’t just want to become a perfect wife. I wanted to be
the
perfect wife for Drake.

He was a passionate man. A man who had no boundaries when it came to living life, and he applied that to everything he did, including myself—his wife, his partner for life.

So I had to seek balance, as a new entrepreneur and a newly christened wife to an impassioned man, and still remain the same woman I had been before while enabling myself to tackle all these new changes in my life.

Because no matter how strong-minded I was, no matter how independent I had been before marriage, the fact remained the same, I had become Mrs. Drake Tatum.

The Star in My Eyes

Months Later…

“Lil? Are you in here?” Drake called out from outside the walk-in closet door.

I was getting ready to attend a charity event with him that night. I had barely just gotten out of the shower, and my hair still dripping wet as I tried to squeeze out the excess water using a small hand towel I had grabbed from the nearby sink.

“Give me fifteen. I’ll be ready by then. Sorry,” I responded, yelling at the top of my lungs as my eyes brushed through the evening gowns I had hung on the rack.

When Drake said that he’d be waiting for me downstairs, I released a short sigh before I scrambled to put together the perfect outfit for tonight.

Orders had taken forever to finish earlier in the day and I hadn’t wanted to leave Masie in the store alone. It was a joint business venture—a baby one at that—and I didn’t want to slack on work. Even though Masie had insisted that I leave early to get ready for that night’s event, I hadn’t paid heed. It wouldn’t have been fair to leave her with batches of pastries left to go for a party that had booked at the last minute. Since we were a new business, we tried not to decline any orders at all, even if we had to pull our hair out at most times because it was unreasonable.

Our main goal was to make a name for ourselves in our pastry boutique shop located in The Promenade. So, yes, making vast sacrifices was in order, even if it was on a daily basis.

We both loved and enjoyed it, so it was all worth it in the end. The only thing I wished was that Drake’s social commitments would be more limited, but luck hadn’t granted me that. Especially since their business was diverse and they invested in back-up films; the invites from Hollywood producers and directors were never ending. Not to mention charities they supported, movie premiers, and the list kept on growing. Nevertheless, with my work commitment and all, my marriage to Drake was impeccable—superb—and one that a lot of people were jealous of.

I was one of the lucky few that had married the man of their dreams, and even though I was barely making it with balancing my work and social commitments, I would continue on and make both ends satisfied and happy. Albeit I would be ready to sleep the second I walked out of the shop, seeing Drake was supplement enough. He was enough. Always.

A minute past the fifteen promised, I descended the stairs, dressed in one of my memorable gowns that he adored so much. My barely dried hair was in a neat pile atop my head, showing off the diamond studs my father had given me. I was set to go and socialize for the evening.

Gray eyes met me, sparkling with love, adoration and admiration. “Have I ever told you that you take my breath away?” He did, in fact, sound out of breath.

A shy, satisfied smile formed across my red-tinted lips playfully. I had dressed to look the part of a dutiful wife, but most of all, I dressed to entice my husband. After all, I was learning the art of seduction, and there was nothing that provoked men’s thoughts better than looking like a delicious dessert that they couldn’t have a bite of until they got you all to themselves later on.

I was still an amateur, yet I aimed to please. Slowly but surely, I would get there.

Drake’s appetite was insatiable, as was mine. Learning about sexuality and how arousing it was to see my husband’s eyes inflamed with rabid lust that only I—his wife—could satisfy was the ultimate euphoria.

“Lily,” he greeted with a deep, grumbling groan as he strode towards me, his eyes trained on me like an animal in heat.

“Drake,” I responded smoothly.

Smooth my voice might be, however I was the polar opposite inside. Deep within, I was simmering for him—for his touch, his kiss, his lovemaking. We hadn’t done much in a week because the night before he’d left for a business trip, my monthly visitor had come, thus dampening our nightly festivities. So, yes, we were both hungry—oh, so damn hungry…

I wanted to beg him for a quick session,
but
I was holding out. Why? Because I wanted to be a tease. I wanted to drive him crazy. Usually, if I did this, my rewards were doubled. His appetite could go all night. I was a selfish woman and an all-nighter with my man was just what I wanted—needed.

My husband halted before me, taking me in with those mesmerizing eyes before stopping his gaze just above the slit of my dress, then letting it travel back to me. “You like to fuck with a man who’s been starved for quite some time,” he stated in a matter of fact tone.

I so did.

Raising my brow, I taunted him further, “You got a problem with that?”

Our eyes battled. My breathing caught when he stepped closer, thinking that he was about to kiss me, yet I was in for a rude awakening.

“Tease,” he hissed when I felt his hand slide inside the slit of my dress, cupping my moist mound before sticking his middle finger inside, circling and rotating in my wet channel.

I yelped and moaned his name, needing more… so much more.

“Witch!” he grunted out before pulling out of me, leaving me wanting as he brought his moist finger between our faces. He inhaled it deeply while his eyes pinned me down. Then he brought it in between his lips, sucking off my essence.

“You taste… hungry.
Are
you hungry, wife?” he murmured, his voice heavy with purpose. It was a tone that was silently telling me that he was going to go bonkers.

Was it so wrong to want him that much? I craved him like I needed air to breathe. For years I had yearned and loved this man, and now I had him all to myself.

Smiling sweetly, I said, “I’m famished. I skipped lunch earlier—”

His hungered face immediately turned into a scowl, cutting me off, as his lips thinned into a line, displeased. “Lily, how many times do we have to go over you skipping meals?” He shook his head as he left me and went directly into the kitchen, striding with determination.

I followed him, but midway, he was already coming back with orange juice and a blueberry muffin—the ones I had baked for the house.

“Here,” he said as he gave me the muffin while he opened the juice bottle. “Where do you want to eat?” his voice softened, probably feeling guilty for snapping at me.

“I can eat this in the car,” I said, smiling at him. He looked like he was ready to leave, so I had to stop him, just needing a minute or two with him.

“Hey—wait.” Licking my lips, I breathed out his name, “Drake…”

“Yes?”

He was a great husband.

“Did I tell you that I’m happy you’re back?” I kissed him lightly on the lips, feeling content with life. “I’ve missed you, you know.”

His eyes sparkled while his thumb reached out and caressed my cheek. “I love you, Lil—” he grinned, “but sometimes, you really drive me crazy. So, please, take care of yourself when I’m not around.”

I sighed, knowing he was right. “Fine, babe. I’ll try harder.” I was sure he didn’t like my response, however I had already hooked my arm around his and was pushing us out the door, ready to leave for the event.

The chauffeured car was waiting outside when we emerged from the house. Ever since we’d tied the knot, Drake had been adamant about not driving when we went to events, ones where we both were likely to have a glass of wine or two. He said it was for our own safety, always making sure that I would be in good hands.

After his heart surgery, he didn’t go past one drink, though. He didn’t want to push his limits, and I appreciated that very much. He was overprotective to the point of overkill, but I knew he worried—a lot.

He said he had been given a second chance to live his life—to love me properly this time. He vowed not to fail me again. It was great, but it worried me that he thought that way because, at times, he forgot to just enjoy the moment.

Our schedules were hectic as it was and I wanted to savor each moment with him. Loving him. Living him.

Drake was basically attached to his phone, responding to emails as my thoughts wandered to my own business while I ate the muffin. It wasn’t until we were a few minutes from the venue when Drake finally inserted his phone inside his breast pocket and spoke again.

“Ready to party the night away?”

My legs were tired and my brain was ready to shut down, yet I smiled at him anyway. “You bet.”

Dance With Me

The evening started like a whirlwind, meeting and greeting people I barely remembered nor recognized. Though, when Drake glided us towards an older man leaning towards seventy, attached to a teenager at his side, it definitely got my full attention.

“Mr. Fullerton, how are you doing this evening?” Drake firmly shook his hand, beaming amiably towards the striking duo.

“I’m well,” he responded briefly before his eyes diverted towards me. “You must be the
missus, I take it?” He looked friendly enough, but something about his tone—like he was surprised that I was the wife—somehow ticked off the wrong button.

“I am; it’s a pleasure to meet you this evening.” I wanted to leave, find a waiter that was strolling around the room carrying bountiful champagne glasses, and enjoy the rest of the evening, however Drake seemed to be in no hurry to depart.

“Lily, this is Mr. Fullerton’s daughter, Katie. She’ll be interning with me starting next week.”

His daughter
? Right. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Ha.

“Oh, that’s amazing. I worked with Drake before; he’s a fairly decent boss,” I said with a grin.

The receiving end somehow looked forced. “I have no doubt that he’s more than decent.” She had a playful smirk on, her eyes vying for Drake alone.

Okay. Time to exit this odd conversation. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go to the powder room.” Squeezing Drake’s arm, I gave them all a tight smile before I left, waiting to release the breath of relief when I was at a great distance.

So the future intern had a little crush on my husband, but what had really set me off was how surprised they had seemed when they learned I was his wife. I knew I wasn’t a knockout; far from it. Compared to the other women Drake used to date, I was plain and boring. I should be used to getting that type of reaction from people he socialized with, yet I was not. I could hear them think,
what did he see in her?

I knew my husband loved me, but people judged at first glance, and I wasn’t leaving them with awe-inspiring praises. Drake seemed oblivious to it, though, and thank goodness for that. I didn’t want him defending me that way; I mean, how embarrassing would that be? Protecting his wife from people who thought she wasn’t good enough, wasn’t beautiful enough to suit him? Our bond was solid, and at the end of the day, that was all that mattered, nothing more.