Drake
Two months later
I think my dick might actually fall off. How long can one person go without sex before that becomes a real concern? I’m being dramatic, I know, but these past two months have been rough. And not just because I have not stuck my dick into anything other than my fist, but because a little piece of my life is missing.
Okay, a big piece.
Isabel and I have fallen into a comfortable routine. For the most part, I think she’s doing okay. I work all day, finishing up jobs to fill the time between when Salacious needs me. She teaches each night. The only time we really see each other is when she walks in the door at nine after she’s closed up her studio.
We make small talk, eat something together, and then crawl into her bed, where I hold her against me until she falls asleep—sometimes crying, although not as much anymore.
I’ve only seen Hunter twice at the club, and we didn’t speak to each other. It was in passing as I was fixing the lock on one of the doors. I can only imagine the whole Salacious crew is onto us, although if they’re curious, they haven’t asked me.
And from what I know, he’s only been checking in with Isabel over the phone. She hasn’t seen him at all.
I know how hard his absence is on me—I can only imagine how much harder it is on her. The holidays are quickly approaching, and our patience is running thin. He needs to make a move soon, before we all lose our minds.
It’s a late Sunday afternoon when I come in from the gym, tossing my duffel bag at the bottom of the stairs and heading toward the kitchen, when I hear sniffling upstairs. I pause, my hand on the banister as I listen in the silence to see if my ears were playing tricks on me. Then, I hear it again.
Fuck.
Taking two steps at a time, I bound up the stairs and follow the sound until I’m standing in the doorway of the master bathroom. My mouth is hanging open as I stare at Isabel. She’s standing in front of the mirror, tears streaming over her cheeks, and her hair about two feet shorter than it was this morning.
“I just wanted a change, but I hate it,” she sobs.
Her normally long, bright copper hair is now stacked in loose waves around her shoulders. I’ll admit the change is jarring, and it’s taking some getting used to, but it’s still fucking gorgeous.
“Umm…” I stammer, and her face squeezes in anguish as she starts to cry again. Fuck, I’m bad at this. I’ve never been in a long-term relationship in my life. And suddenly, I was thrust into one two months ago.
I wasn’t ready for all of this domesticity. I used to kick girls out before dawn, and now my towel is hanging from the hook next to hers and my clothes are no longer sitting alone in their own closet. This whole thing is very new to me.
“Don’t cry…” I say, going toward her with open arms. “You look beautiful, Iz.”
She lets me hold her, but her heart’s not into it. “You’re just saying that. You hate it.”
“What?” I snap. Then I spin her so she can see herself. “Look at that stunning woman. Yes, the change is different, but you’re fucking crazy if you think you don’t look hot as fuck right now.”
Her shoulders slump. “What if he hates it? What if he misses my long hair?”
The pain in her voice radiates, slicing through me. I can’t stand it. I need to fix it.
Leaning down, I open the bottom drawer, rifling through the random things Hunter left behind until I find what I’m looking for. I knew he had one. Quickly, I pull it out, along with its long black cord. As I plug it in, she watches me curiously.
Checking the settings, I set them to something in the middle—not too short. Then, I quickly flip it on and run the clippers along the middle of my head.
Isabel lets out an ear-piercing shriek. “Drake! What are you doing?” she cries as most of my golden blond locks fall to the floor.
“It’s just hair, babe. And I just decided that I need a change too. So…let’s both look different when he comes back.”
Her hand is pressed over her gaping mouth as she watches me buzz the length from my head. I can’t remember the last time my hair was this short. It was before Isabel was around, so this is all she knows. It’s not buzzed down to the scalp; I left a few inches. And I love the way it feels as I run my hand over it. Refreshing and light.
It only takes me a few minutes to get it all, and when I have as much as I can, she helps me with the back. Finally, we’re left with a mess on the floor and two entirely new people staring at their reflections.
Her tears have dried, and I catch her actually cracking a smile. “I like it,” she says.
Looking in the mirror, I assess the damage. Not bad. I think I like the longer hair more, but the change feels good.
“Yeah, me too.”
Our smiles begin to fade as we stare at each other, and as her expression grows in hunger, I try to stifle down the lust that’s starting to build inside me. I won’t cross that line with Isabel, not without him.
But with the way she’s looking at me right now…
Without warning, she turns toward me, grabbing my face and pulling me down for a hungry kiss. Gathering her up by the waist, I kiss her back, my tongue sliding between her lips and rubbing softly against hers. She hums breathlessly into my mouth.
“Drake,” she gasps, and I quickly lift her by her thighs, placing her on the bathroom counter. Her legs wrap around my waist, rubbing herself against the already stiff erection in my gym shorts. My fingers tangle in her now short hair as I kiss her deeply, her hands running along my sides.
When our lips part, she reaches for the hem of my shirt, and I stiffen. “Baby…we can’t.”
“Yes, we can,” she whispers.
God, who am I? Talking a woman out of sex? A woman I want more than anything.
She’s grinding herself against me, moaning from the friction, clearly as horny and needy as I’m feeling. Fuck, I’m not strong enough for this.
“Isabel…” I groan, trying to pull away.
Suddenly, she takes my face in her hands and pulls me closer, so we are inches apart. “We matter, Drake. You and me. He left me with you for a reason, and it’s not because he trusts you not to fuck me.”
“I don’t want to be the kind of guy who fucks his best friend’s girl,” I reply.
She pulls away and stares at me with a hint of surprise on her face. “I thought you said I was your girl.”
“You are…” And suddenly it all makes sense. My entire life I’ve told myself what a scoundrel I am, and it was a self-fulfilled prophecy, living my life between the sheets because that’s what I thought I deserved. But how long have I wanted these two people, and I never acted on it. Never.
And suddenly, I don’t want Isabel for the same reasons I did a second ago. It’s not for the sex, but for so much more.
Closing the space between us, I pull her face up to mine, pressing my forehead to hers as I look her in the eye. “I love you, Isabel.”
She lets out a tiny gasp as her grip tightens around me. Then, her eyes gather moisture as she nods and whispers in return, “I love you too.”
My mouth finds hers again, hungry for the connection, and she answers my kiss with one of her own, potent and heavy with emotion. This time, when she tugs on my shirt, I let her slide it over my body, breaking our kiss only as long as we have to, to take our clothes off.
When she reaches for the waistband of my shorts, I let her tug them down, and I quickly lift her enough to slide hers off until we’re naked together. And it’s not about sex or being horny or even about my dick. As I slide between her legs, pressing into the slick heat, it’s about so much more than sex.
It’s about us, like she said. Our bodies connecting because our souls are aching for it. I slide easily inside Isabel, letting her moans of pleasure fill me with satisfaction.
“God, I love you so much.” I moan against her mouth.
“Baby,” she cries, wrapping her arms around my neck and holding me close. Hooking an arm under her knee, I move even farther inside her. Surrendering myself to her, I let her take me as far as I can go, sliding into the depths of more than just her body. And I stay there, buried in her warmth with her heartbeat pounding against mine.
Then, I ease out and slam back in again, hard enough to make her squeal and writhe like a cat in heat, desperate for more.
Taking my jaw in her hands again, she levels her hard eyes on my face. “Fuck me, and don’t stop.”
So, I do. Like riding a wave together, I pound into her at a rapid cadence that has us both moaning and growling into each other’s mouths. We are coursing down a river as one. Our muffled cries echo against every surface of this bathroom, and I wish I could fuck her forever, but holding this rhythm is going to be impossible.
Before I lose it, I pull away from her kiss to gaze down at where her beautiful body is taking mine. She leans back, watching me stare at where my cock disappears inside her.
“I want to come inside you so fucking bad,” I say in a needy grunt.
“Fill me up, Drake. Mark me as yours.”
God damn. A thrill runs up my spine at her words, and my hips start working on their own, thrusting so hard, she nearly hits her head on the mirror. With one hand planted on the counter, she uses the other to rub nimble circles around her clit. The movement of her fingers sends me over the edge.
“You are mine,” I bellow, fucking her wildly as she screams. “My girl.”
I know the moment her orgasm hits because her spine goes rigid and her thighs squeeze like a vise grip on my hips. And the sounds coming out of her mouth are a jumbled mess of sounds and grunts.
I bury my cock in her one more time before it begins to pulse, pleasure gutting me as I spill myself inside her, throbbing for so long, I’m afraid it will never stop.
We’re left panting and sweating, and I stay sheathed for as long as I can. I never want to leave her body, but I smile against her shoulder, knowing that I’ve officially marked her now. I’m not taking my friend’s girl. I’m taking mine—no, ours.
