Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CADENCE
“You can’t—” He closes the distance in one long stride, edging behind me to clamp a hand across my mouth, cutting off my words.
His lips seek my ear, breath fluttering my newly styled hair as he chuckles, then whispers, “Pretty sure I not only can but just did.”
My head spins as his thick fingers splay across my stomach, clutching me tight against his body. My back arches as I struggle but it just makes for a snugger fit. Giving me a rush of sensation as his hard cock presses against my arse.
My fingertips try to find purchase under the tight seal of his hand but fail—just like they failed against his hand on my leg.
“You don’t have to struggle,” he whispers in my ear, my nostrils filling with the giddy aroma of his aftershave, cedar, leather, and spice, all adding to the salt base of his morning swim. “Don’t you want me to take care of you?”
A tear slips from the corner of my eye. My will to resist evaporates.
Someone taking care of me sounds like a fantasy, just the words enough to trigger an instant seduction.
“I won’t hurt you.”
The promise awakens another fledgling fight response, easily calmed with the warmth of his splayed fingers. Especially as they carefully move farther down, over the curve of my hip, along my thigh.
They sneak under my hem and reverse direction, forcing a path past the elastic waistband of my panties to stroke my pussy, gliding inside, my arousal making it easy as he murmurs, “I only want to make both of us feel good.”
He spins us to face the mirror.
With my new hair and makeup, I look like a stranger. Someone who doesn’t mind the handsome man behind her exploring the soft curves of her body.
A girl who’s eager for his touch.
A girl who needs that makeshift gag over her mouth because otherwise the noises coming from her, muffled cries and moans and whimpers, would be loud enough to disturb the other patrons.
When he dips his finger inside me, my tight walls close around him and the shudder of his body triggers another surge of arousal.
I close my eyes, then open them, torn as his thumb circles my clit, coaxing my pleasure.
A second finger joins the first until my hips are grinding against his hand, pussy clenching and releasing in time with the thrusting rhythm of his fingers.
Then they move faster, no longer chasing pleasure but demanding it, setting the pace and waiting for him to comply.
He chuckles against the curve of my neck and the vibrations send another convulsion of shivers across my skin, my fingers reaching up to tangle through his hair, clenching to tug at the strands while my other hand twists behind, finding his rock-hard bulge. My fingers explore, learning his shape and size, palm burning as he grinds his cock against me.
“Demanding, aren’t you?”
But the clamp across my mouth removes the need for verbal participation.
Drake’s the only one talking, the only one whose groans of need fill the room. He’s in control. He’s making this happen.
I have no choice.
And that thought alone gives me permission to melt under his touch, merely a passenger.
The orgasm builds deep inside, the need convulsing through my muscles until I clench tighter around his fingers, bump harder against the teasing stroke of his thumb on my swollen, needy clit.
He tips me forward, closer to the mirror. So close I can see the approaching orgasm in the reflection of my eyes.
I close them when it hits, knees buckling. My palms slap down on the cool bench, struggling to hold me upright as Drake sends wave after wave of ecstasy coursing through my body, clenching muscles fluttering around his fingers.
Only when the last shudder is spent does he ungag my mouth, curling the fingers inside me as he withdraws, plunging them into his mouth, throat working as he sucks them clean.
“You taste fucking delicious,” he murmurs, another deluge of arousal cascading over his fingers as he sends them back for more.
I can’t believe how sexy he looks.
How sexy we both look.
Like I’m a voyeuristic stranger peering at a stolen moment of intimacy, their coupling the best turn on I’ve ever experienced.
A finger pushes against my lips, eagerly pressing into my mouth while our reflected gazes meet.
And the girl in the mirror is a tramp.
She deserves the insults Drake has pegged at her, the wanton slut. The whore. The skank. She greedily sucks the juice of his fingers like it’s a treat, making the resident prude inside me shudder.
“Aren’t you sweet?” he asks and the girl in the mirror nods, feeling a flutter of pride as that gorgeous, recklessly menacing man breaks into a smile. “You taste a hundred times better awake than asleep.”
My brain stutters to a halt, pulse accelerating until the room brightens, the edge of my vision razor sharp.
Asleep.
The dream!!!
A slow throb builds in my core, still tender from his touch. Arousal building as my mind teases out the meaning from his words.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
A familiar smirk thins Drake’s lips as I push him away. Running out the door when what I really need is to run away from myself and my twisted desires.
I escape into the main foyer and collide with Hudson.
“There you are.” He slings an arm around my waist, falling into step beside me. “You were gone so long, I had to come looking.”
His eyes scan my face, and I imagine what he sees, my lipstick messed by Drake’s hand, my cheeks flushed like I’m running a fever.
It’s lucky he can’t see inside my brain where I’m still processing what just happened between us. Worried that he’s done far more when I was asleep than write a message on my chest.
He’s touched me. Intimately.
And it’s luckiest of all Hudson doesn’t know part of my brain must be wired for abuse because it finds the idea exhilarating.
He slows his step, squinting harder at my face and I drop my eyes to the floor, hiding as he squeezes my waist. “Are you okay?”
“Everything’s fine.”
But I come to a complete stop, unable to walk back into the darkness of the theatre.
“This movie isn’t doing much for me,” Hudson says. “Would you like to go for a drink instead?”
“Yes, please .”
My tone is so enthusiastic, he laughs.
I should feel guilty, but what happened in the bathroom is too surreal to believe. It can’t be true. And even if it did happen, it wasn’t my choice.
I let the guilt float away. If it finds Drake, he can have it.
We walk downstairs, my heels clicking on the concrete as we cross from the mall to the connected garage, choosing the steps instead of waiting for the elevator.
When we reach the third storey landing—two to go—I’m alarmed to see Drake and Stacey exit the lift, him striding out just in front of her, eyes digging into mine as he searches for an answer I don’t want to give him.
“We’re just heading off,” Hudson says, angling our bodies so he’s slightly in front of me. “But it was nice seeing you.”
Drake doesn’t break his gaze, ignoring the obvious lie. “We’ll walk you to your car,” he mumbles, putting his arm around Stacey and igniting a wave of irritation so large it takes my breath away. “We’re heading off, too.”
Hudson continues to position himself between us, his curious glance telling me he’ll have questions once we’re alone. “Let me guess,” he drawls as we reach our level. “You’re parked in the spot next to ours?”
“Oh, no,” Stacey says. “We’re on the rooftop.” Her eyes shift to Drake, looking uncertain. “You want to catch the lift again, babe?”
Before Drake can answer, Hudson’s grip on my hand increases. Hard. Harder.
He clenches until the bones grind together. Another second and they’ll snap. I cry out.
With an impatient shake of his hand, he releases me.
He runs to his vehicle, then stops. His fingers scrape through his hair while his eyes widen with shock. “What the fuck?!”
Stacey gasps. Her mouth falls open, and she clamps a hand across it, eyes wide with shock. I follow her gaze, dread making my limbs heavy.
His vehicle sits low on the stained concrete floor.
The tyres are completely flat.
Even from my distance, I see the dark flaps of rubber, the long rents in the material. Not a prank—the air let out as a tasteless joke—this is pure vandalism.
Someone tore them apart with a knife.
“Wow,” Drake says, eyes resting on me. “This is terrible. I had no idea this was such a dangerous neighbourhood.”
Hudson whirls around. He gapes at Drake, voice tight with anger as he chokes out, “You attacked my car?”
“No!” Stacey says, indignant as she steps forward. “Drake drove me here and hasn’t left my side since except to go to the bathroom.” She waves her hand at the damage. “Whoever did this, it wasn’t him.”
But Hudson isn’t listening, and I can’t blame him. It’s obvious from Drake’s thin smile he planned it, even if he left the execution to others.
I put my hand on his Hudson’s arm.
“Don’t touch me!”
He turns on me with such ferocity I fall back a step, hands wringing together.
This is the same boy I glimpsed before, when Drake forced me to alter our plans.
But far, far worse.
“You might be a nice piece of arse but there’s no fucking way you’re worth this much effort.” He jabs a finger in my face. “Stay away from me. Stay away from my family. If you pass me in the corridors at school, pretend you don’t know me.”
I freeze in place until Drake pulls me away, stepping in front of me until I can’t see Hudson past his hulking frame.
“Don’t take it out on her, man.” Drake’s voice is calm, but his eyes narrow. “It’s not her fault you’ve got a talent for making enemies.”
While Hudson makes choking sounds, the veins on his temple pulsing, Drake pats Stacey on her behind. “Do you mind catching the bus, babe? Looks like my sister needs a lift home.”