Headed for Home

CHAPTER SEVEN

S unlight streaks in through the window to alert me that morning has arrived. With my eyes still shut, I smile into my pillow and stretch until the stiffness in my joints recedes. There are more tender spots than usual, especially in my lady business. My lips tip higher.

I’m sore and barely awake but I haven’t felt this refreshed in years. There’s a lingering scent of sandalwood and orgasmic bliss surrounding me. I’ll have to wash the sheets or my dreams will be a constant replay of the best sex I’ve ever had.

My fingers reach for the opposite side of the bed. The spot Drake had occupied while cuddling me to sleep is now cold. A pinch of disappointment clenches my heart. Stupid. This is what I wanted. I had every intention of kicking him to the curb but he saved me the trouble.

Just then, a clang rings out from downstairs. I shoot upright, pulse leaping to the sky. My breath catches as I wait for Chester and Cheeto to sound the alarm. Not a single woof confronts whoever just dropped something. My ears strain to hear a voice to identify. The racket continues with more clinks and clatters. There’s definite rummaging. Nobody speaks.

I shiver, suddenly very aware that I’m nude. There’s a lump of fabric within grabbing distance and I yank the cotton over my head. Drake’s scent washes over me but I’m too distracted to appreciate the comfort.

I grab clean underwear while noting the clock strongly suggests my kids shouldn’t be home yet. It’s possible that Shawn dropped them off early but he would’ve called.

As I creep down the stairs, the most likely intruders come to mind. I slump against the wall for a moment and gather my scattered wits. Several members of my extended family live just up the road. Auntie June is notorious for dropping by unannounced. She caught the horse bug at an early age, unlike my mother. The unmistakable aroma of freshly brewed coffee points a guilty finger at my cousin.

I stroll into the kitchen and stumble to a stop. The scene in front of me takes a solid minute for my brain to compute. It isn’t Paisley raiding my fridge. Auntie June is nowhere in sight. Charlie and Kenzie wreaking unsupervised havoc would be more believable.

Drake is standing at the stove with his back to me. Smoke and steam curl around him like a caress. There’s a distinct sizzle from whatever he just flipped in the frying pan. But it’s not the possibility of food that captures my appetite.

An apron string is tied at his lower back, leaving his ass on naked display. That firm bottom is something to admire. Especially in the soft light fondling him. My mouth waters and I have the sudden urge to nibble on a juicy peach.

Those sculpted cheeks flex as if aware of my intense admiration. “Hungry?”

“I could eat,” I croak.

Drake peeks at me over his shoulder, a smirk waiting on his lips. “You look freshly fucked.”

“You’re one to talk.” But the retort is weaker than my vagina’s willpower against him.

Between the dimple buried in thick stubble and twinkling baby blues, this man can get whatever he wants. He couldn’t be unattractive if he tried. Meanwhile, my hair resembles a nest that most birds would abandon. It’s entirely his fault I’m in this disheveled condition.

I tug at a snarl while slinking toward the large island that occupies the center of this open concept layout. The butcher block surface provides support for my unsteady limbs. His bare butt is within chomping distance.It wouldn’t spoil my appetite to take a nibble.

As if listening, Drake’s attention returns to the stove. “Breakfast is ready.”

“Just making yourself at home, huh?”

“It felt right,” he croons. “The goal was to serve you in bed. Here will have to do. Plans are meant to be rearranged, right?”

“Um… I guess?” That’s not how the phrase typically goes, but it does remind me that he didn’t leave.

The swoop in my belly is uncalled for. Drake should be long gone by now. That’s what I expected. But I can’t ignore the giddy flutters that take flight seeing him in my space like he belongs.

He turns off the burner and plates an oversized omelet. The smell of melted cheese and fried onions has my stomach growling. But then I get a peek at his apron.

Written across the front in bold letters is the word Vagitarian . There’s a definition scribbled underneath but he turns away before I can read the whole thing. Something about frequently dining between her thighs. I’m still trying to digest what he’s wearing while he pours a cup of coffee. The words are a blur as he strides back to me.

Without spilling a drop, Drake hoists me onto the island and kisses me from the stupor. “Good morning, beauty.”

“Morning,” I mumble absently. I accept the steaming mug while my thoughts swirl. “Where did you get that?”

“This old thing?” He tugs at the strap around his neck. “I found it in your pantry.”

“What?” I sputter. “No way.”

“Must’ve been a forgotten gift,” he muses.

“There’s not a chance you found that in my house.” Unless it belonged to my grandma, which would add another twist entirely.

The sparkle in Drake’s gaze brightens. “Ah, you caught me. The apron is mine.”

I’m laughing hard enough to shed tears. “And you conveniently had it in your truck?”

“Optimism is its own reward.” He steps into the space between my parted legs.

Somehow, I missed the tented fabric until he bumps against me. “Oh, wow. Is there a pony hiding under there or does my kitchen excite you?”

His lips brush over mine. “Ignore that. He’s always preening for you.”

Once again, sandalwood teases my nostrils. “I can’t have sausage for breakfast?”

“Don’t tempt me,” Drake warns.

I hook my knees to his sides, hauling him closer. “As if you didn’t see this coming.”

“The food will get cold.” But his voice already wavers.

“We can do two things at once.” I sip at my coffee before setting it aside. “For the sake of time management.”

Drake’s palms roam up my thighs, lifting the hem of my shirt. The coarse scrape of his calluses chafe my skin in a zing. “I’ll cook for you more often if this is the response I get.”

“It’s been a very long time since someone made me a meal in my own home. I’ll admit that it’s very… disarming.”

“Oh?”

“Mhmm, and we shouldn’t waste your efforts.” The omelet is waiting for recognition and I spear a piece with the fork. “Can I feed you?”

“Ladies first.” He snags the food to reverse our roles while simultaneously whipping the apron barrier out from between us. “And I’ll pleasure more than your taste buds.”

My lips part automatically to accept the extended bite. Savory flavors burst on my tongue. “Ohhhh, that’s delicious.”

His gaze heats when I moan. “Surprised?”

“Not really. You seem capable of just about anything.”

His thumbs tease the lace concealing my slick arousal. “Like filling two of your holes at once?”

There’s a noticeable gush in my basement to reveal what his words do to me. “That’s filthy.”

“You love my dirty mouth.” He nips at my bottom lip.

“It’s just okay,” I blatantly lie.

His chuckle curls my toes against his ass. “I bet your pussy is drenched for me.”

“Only one way to find out.”

“Brace yourself, beauty.” Drake rips the crotch of my panties and slams into me.

“Shit,” I hiss. My sore muscles weep at his harsh intrusion.

He stills. “Too much?”

“Never. Just out of practice, remember?”

“I thought we fixed your squeaky wheels.”

“You’ll have to grease me better than that,” I taunt.

His arm loops around me, splaying a palm on my back. “You want it fast and hard?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

“Rough?”

“Please.”

That’s the permission he needs. I grab onto him as he withdraws and slams into me again. From there, his hips piston in and out at a feverish pace. My inner walls ache at his quick tempo, but the twinge is somehow pleasant. I hike my legs higher around his waist to adjust our angle. His piercing rubs at my clit and I sigh at hitting the spot.

I’m overly sensitive. Tingles are already spreading after a few thrusts. Drake takes the cue to grind against me, pumping faster.

This man already knows how to play my body like a professional sport. His technique is finely tuned to pluck at my desire as if we’re performing a choreographed script. It’s like he’s reinventing me, which is too screwed up for me to consider right now.

But our compatibility thrums through my veins, surging hotter each time he sinks into me. This type of chemistry can’t be denied. Drake is determined to prove that. It would be careless—not to mention naive—to fall headfirst into the fairy tale he’s selling. I’m realistic. There’s no time for romance. These heated moments will have to be enough.

“Fuuuuuuck,” he groans. “Have I told you how incredible you feel?”

“Not today.”

Devotion floods from his unyielding gaze. “I had no idea sex could be like this.”

“Too sweet,” I murmur. The flimsy scold is more for myself than him.

“Ah, damn. I almost forgot myself.”

Drake gathers my hair in a fist and pulls just tight enough to sting. My head tips back to alleviate the burn, a gasp spilling from me. He’s in control but I’m confident he would yield if I asked. Another furious shove jostles our position and I wheeze. To be honest, I don’t mind how he dominates the scene. I trust that my pleasure is his priority.

More than that, he’s handling my needs without any guidance. Each sure stroke allows me to surrender and pass him the reins. For years, I’ve had to take care of everything myself. Drake is granting me relief from the weight of endless responsibilities.

That freedom is dizzying, especially when paired with his cock stretching my tolerance to the brink. His lips travel along the extended column of my throat, the gentle caress at war with his brutal fucking. The contrast propels me toward the edge. Pressure builds until I’m trembling for release.

The plate clatters beside us, reminding him of my other hole he can fill. “Still hungry?”

“Uh-huh.”

Drake manages to fork another section of omelet to feed me. “Open wide.”

I do and my eyes nearly cross at the onslaught of sensations. “Might be the best thing I’ve put in my mouth.”

“Until you choke on my cock.”

I slurp on the excessive amounts of saliva that visual manifests. “Should’ve taken me up on that blowjob when you had the chance.”

“I’m enjoying your pussy too much.”

“Sounds like a personal problem.”

“But how does this feel?” He pulls out just to hammer me with his thick girth.

My teeth clack from the force. “So close.”

His grin stamps mine. “We can do better than that.”

“By all means,” I urge.

Drake is gracious to include me, but this isn’t a collaboration. Not when his piercing presses against my clit and I see stars. I cling onto him as he pounds us to the peak. His dick strikes at that sacred area to finish me off. My nails dig into his shoulders while a spasm clamps my core. He curses and his steady motions stumble. A final thrust tips us into oblivion together.

I’m a quaking puddle of bliss when Drake cuddles me against his chest. We drift on a peaceful tide that prove simultaneous climaxes aren’t a myth. My ear absorbs the heavy thump of his heart, coaxing me into a trance.

His hand travels the length of my spine, dragging me deeper under his influence. “How are those squeaky wheels?”

“Thoroughly greased,” I exhale.

Drake kisses my temple. “Are you full?”

“Didn’t we just confirm that?” I mumble.

His chuckle bounces me on his pec. “There’s more omelet if you didn’t get enough.”

“You stuffed me to the brim.” My mind wanders through the afterglow. I could get used to this treatment if I’m not careful. That warning can be ignored for another five minutes. “Do you like to cook?”

“Yes, but it’s not very satisfying to eat alone.”

“Just like sex,” I whimper as his cock twitches inside of me. My vibrator collection is stellar but there’s no replicating his level of stimulation.

“Just as I predicted.” He tucks my head under his chin. “We were meant to find each other.”

Before I can argue his commitment status, the front door opens. I freeze in Drake’s hold. My pulse thunders as I wait for our unexpected guest to identify themselves.

“Cass?”

I exhale for a full minute when my cousin’s voice calls to me. She’s the best option in this scenario. Had it been my children, I’d probably expire on this island like rotten milk.

“In the kitchen,” I tell her.

Drake falters. “The fuck?”

“What?”

“I’m still inside you.” His eyes lower to where our bodies are joined at the hips.

“Time to go, trouble.” I straighten and push at his shoulder.

He slips from me and I hiss at the loss. There’s no time to mourn the fleeting connection, which is entirely my fault. I slide off the counter and straighten my shirt, the hem falling beyond mid-thigh.

“Looks good on you,” Drake comments.

“Hmm?” I mumble absently.

He nods to the oversized garment. “Something to snuggle when I’m not around.”

My focus narrows on what I’m wearing. How I didn’t notice this was his before is another mystery. “Damn.”

“You can say that again.” His laugh is slightly unhinged. “I can’t believe you invited someone in here after what we just did.”

“It’s only my cousin.” My hand swats at his misplaced concern. “And to be fair, I didn’t know she was coming over.”

“You could’ve told her to wait a minute.”

“That would’ve raised suspicions.”

“And this won’t?” He motions to his mostly naked form.

“I don’t see a problem.” But the fib is transparent.

My ruined underwear does little to soak up the evidence of our morning sexcapades. I cross my legs and flex every Kegel muscle possible. A hollow ache spreads to remind me of the wreckage Drake left behind. My vagina will never be the same.

He shrugs, reading my bluff like a context clue. “No? Fine. Let her get an eyeful. Didn’t take you as one to share but—”

My lips flatten and I back him against the cabinets. “Don’t move.”

“Why not? Afraid she’ll see my hot ass?”

“Yes,” I say before logic can muzzle me.

“Is my cum leaking down your inner thighs? My shirt is the only thing concealing you from view. You’re covered in me, beauty. If I thought you looked freshly fucked before…” He trails off on a chuckle, scrubbing at his stubbled jaw.

I glare at the possessive gleam in his gaze while trying to tame my hair. “Just hush over there.”

“Howdy, cowgirl. How’s it—?” Paisley jerks to a standstill at the kitchen entrance. “Oh! You have company.”

My elbow misses the counter when I try to aim for calm and collected, which only adds to my frazzled state. “Don’t mind him. He’s just… someone I used to know.”

My cousin’s eyes bulge as she gawks at Drake. “Are you—?”

“Cassidy’s sexual servant? Yes, guilty as charged. I’d shake your hand but I’m under strict orders to stay in the corner.” The incorrigible flirt winks at me.

“You’re her…?” Paisley’s gaze swings my way. “Wow.”

“He’s joking,” I blurt. “Obviously.” But the needy clench in my pussy calls me a liar.

“I see,” she drawls. “You have Drake Granger in your kitchen, wearing a Vagitarian apron, claiming to be your sexual servant.”

“That about sums it up.” His smirk exposes those naughty dimples.

“Well done,” Paisley praises me before waving at the man who has officially overstayed his welcome. “We haven’t met but you don’t need a proper introduction. I’m Paisley, if you were curious. Cassidy would be horribly lonely and even more anti-social without me.”

“I’m glad she has your moral support,” Drake laughs.

“Right? I don’t think I get enough recognition for that.”

My arms slide across my chest in a feigned pose for nonchalance. “Uh-huh, thanks a lot. Both of you. Was there a reason you stopped by, Ley?”

“We’re supposed to do pattern work with the futurity prospects today. You asked me to help you.” Her attention returns to Drake. “But it looks like you’re busy.”

“No, no. I’m ready to ride.” Even if I totally forgot about our plans to do so. I send a pointed look to the man responsible for distracting me. “He was just leaving.”

“I wasn’t,” Drake interjects. “You on a horse is always a sight to see. It’s been too long.”

“Am I interrupting?” Paisley glances between us but makes no move to offer us privacy.

“Nope, we—”

“Just finished,” Drake cuts in.

“Good grief,” I mutter.

Paisley laughs. “Heck of a reunion.”

“You have no idea.” Drake blows me a kiss.

My face goes up in flames. “Well, this has been fun…”

The blonde bombshell parks her hip against the dining table. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Wasn’t talking to you.”

Drake drops his jaw. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

I huff. “Maybe you can get dressed.”

“Kinda hard when you’re wearing my shirt.”

“Just try your best. Please,” I add through clenched teeth.

“Always do.” Drake saunters toward the stairs but pauses to give my butt a soft spank. “Don’t miss me too much, beauty.”