Twirled Bond (Holly Woods Files, #5) (22 page)

The funniest part about all of this is that I thought essentially working together with Drake would be the biggest problem in my life because we usually fight like cats and dogs in this situation. Yet, this time, our relationship is the only certain thing in my life, despite the outside interference.

Funny how things work out.

All I want to do right now is curl into his side, rest my head on his chest right over his heart, and close my eyes while he hugs me tight. Drake’s my safe place. If he were coordinates on my map, he’d be zero zero, zero zero. He’d be the center of it all, the only place where there is nothing but him.

And to think, a year ago, I couldn’t stand the man.

They say there’s a fine line between love and hate—and I’m sure we still toe it a lot of the time—but there’s just enough love to balance out the hate.

Luckily for me. I am a freaking handful.

Then again...he’s no picnic in the park.

I wipe at my eyes one final time, smiling to myself, and sit up. I hate that I just cried all over myself because I’m not a crier, but I feel so much better for it. It’s been a crazy week, and it was either crying or shooting someone, and because shooting someone usually comes with a jail sentence, I’m glad my brain decided that crying is the better option.

My door handle jerks down, and the door rattles as someone tries to open it.

“Noelle?”

Drake.

Does he have me microchipped or something? He always seems to pop up when I need him.

“Hang on.” I get up and pad my bare feet across my new, fluffy carpet to the door. I twist the lock and open the door. I smell the coffee and bacon before I see the bookstore bag in his hand. “You went to Mel’s?”

He nods once. “She just added breakfast and it’s closer to the station than Rosie’s. Plus, bacon.” He flashes me a grin and walks into my office.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“We’ll start as soon as Samuel Goldberg deems his clients worthy of his precious time,” he replies dryly, setting the coffee and breakfast onto my desk.

I close the door. “I have nothing to do today.”

A smile tugs at his plump lips. “No, Noelle. I’m not letting you loose on him.”

Damn it. That’s the exact kind of therapy I need right now. A verbal battle with an asshole lawyer.

“Shouldn’t you be there waiting for him?”

“Yes.” He pulls one hot, toasted bacon roll from a small, white bag, sits down on the chair, then rips a bite out of it.

I blink at him. “Just yes? Nothing else?”

He nods as he chews then says, “We’ve been waiting three hours for him. We figure he can wait a little too.”

“That’s unprofessional.”

“Shut up. You’re laughing. I can see it.”

He’s right. I’m totally trying not to laugh, but it creeps out of me anyway.

“Hush.” I take the second bacon roll and sit on the chair opposite him on the client side of my desk. I forget how comfy these are.

“So, yeah.” He’s already finished his roll. I swear he’s a human vacuum. “I thought that, while we wait for his royal highness to get his ass to the station and waste some of his time, I’d get breakfast and bring it to my favorite person, because I know you wouldn’t eat properly otherwise.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“You should probably hide the half eaten cupcake on your desk before you deny it.”

Crapola. “How do you know I wouldn’t eat properly?” Ketchup drops out of my roll and onto the paper bag covering my legs.

“Because you’re stressed.”

I tilt my head to the side, my mouth full of food.

He points to my hair. “You didn’t brush it this morning.”

Instantly, my hand flies to it. “What?” I say around bacon roll.

“You never brush your hair when you’re stressed.” His lips twitch again, his eyes bright. “You do everything but your hair and only when you’re feeling run-down.”

I run my fingers through it and encounter two small knots.

Damn.

He’s right.

How have I never noticed that before?

“I... Wow.” I wipe my mouth and put the rest of my roll on the desk. Then I walk around it to my drawer and pull a hairbrush out. “How did you know that?”

He raises his eyebrows like I’m asking a stupid question then follows me around the desk. I tug the brush through my hair until it’s knot-free, and he takes it from me to throw it back in the drawer. He slams it shut with one forceful shove and boxes me in against my desk.

His lips are an inch from mine, and his hot breath makes my skin tingle as it flutters across my mouth and my cheeks. “I know everything about you,
bella.
” He kisses the corner of my mouth, lingering there. “Every single thing. Including that you prefer the smell of my shaving cream over yours. I had to change because the scent lingers on your skin and turns me on.”

I pull back. “So, why is it always there?”

His smile is slow and sexy. “Because I keep buying it for you. I hide my new stuff so you never know.”

My jaw drops. “I would have stopped using it!”

“Exactly.” He laughs low and runs his nose along my jaw until his mouth is poised over my ear. “But it makes your pussy smell really good.”

I clench my legs together. Well. That explains a lot.

“Oh,” comes out as a tiny squeak.

“I also know you’ve been crying. Why?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. Of course. He’s gonna know that too.

“Just...you know. Overwhelmed. I feel better.”

“Liar.” He kisses below my ear and pushes away from me. He walks to the door and locks it. Then he walks back to me.

“What are you doing?” I ask, amused.

“My job.” He grabs me to him and cups the back of my neck. “Making you feel better.”

“I—”

He cuts me off with a kiss. The soft yet forceful way his lips move across mine isn’t something I can argue with, so I slide my arms around his neck and press myself against him.

Everything but the rich taste of coffee and the saltiness of the bacon on his lips disappears. No stress, so sadness, no fears. Just Drake.

He really is my zero zero, zero zero.

He pushes me back against the desk and sets me on it, but not before he’s hiked my dress up over my hips. My bare butt touches the desktop, and I shiver at the now-cold wood. He chuckles against my lips as he opens my legs and steps between them.

His cock presses against me, hard against his zipper.

I whimper when he grazes his teeth over my bottom lip and runs his hand up my leg to the apex of my thighs. My heart is beating so fast that I’m not sure it can keep up with itself, and I can barely breathe steadily when his mouth trails down my neck with hard, hot kisses. My head drops back as his lips travel down. He palms my breast over my dress, his thumb stroking right over where my nipple is hardening against the gentle touch.

“What are you doing?” I breathe when he nips my neck right on my pulse point then flicks his tongue over it.

“Told you. Cheerin’ you up.”

“I’m fine. I’m happy.” I gasp as his thumb slips between my lips and brushes over my clit.

He smiles, one hand wrapping around the back of my neck and pulling my mouth to his. “No,
bella.
You’ll be happy when my cock is inside you.”

I clench, and he feels it, because he smiles wider against my lips, and edges his hand farther between my legs. His thumb slips between my legs and almost instantly finds my clit. He rubs it in slow, easy circles, but there’s nothing slow about the bolts of pleasure that fire through my body with each circle. My hips push back and forth, my body pleading for more, and I whimper into his mouth as I come so close to an orgasm that I can feel it ready to go.

Then, in typical Drake style, he stops and releases me, and the clink of his belt sounds. I properly flatten my hands on the desk behind me and suck my lower lip into my mouth as he untucks his shirt and pushes his pants and his boxers to his knees. His cock, completely free, is standing up, and he wraps one arm around my back and yanks me forward to the very edge of the desk.

“We can’t do this here.” I’m breathless, desperate for every inhale, but the problem is solved when he settles his cock at my wet pussy and pushes inside me, his fingertips digging into my hip.

“Too late.” He kisses me as he buries himself inside me, and my clit throbs as my body sings with delight.

“My staff—”

“No screaming for you,” he mutters on a low laugh, thrusting out and back inside me.

“Oh my god,” I whisper, wrapping one arm around his neck and burying my face against him.

I can’t believe he’s fucking me at work.

He grips me tighter and relentlessly drives himself into me, seemingly not caring that, in a few minutes, we won’t be alone. Unsurprisingly, I stop caring too. His touch, his kiss, his rhythm—they all blend into one brand-new world I lose myself in as pleasure buzzes through my veins. Adrenaline at the knowledge that this is naughty heightens the sensations, and I wrap my legs around his waist, leaning back.

He goes deeper, harder, and a tiny moan leaves me, muffled by his neck. I vaguely hear a, “Shhh,” from him, so I bite my tongue, but god... Every part of me is on fire.

“Noelle?” Carlton’s voice breaks through, followed by a knock on the door.

I freeze, sitting up straight.

Drake purses his lip, but his eyes are laughing. He raises one eyebrow in challenge and pushes his cock right into me.

“I’m on the phone,” I lie. “Can it wait ten minutes?”

“Sure.”

Drake is still moving inside me, and I squeeze my eyes shut as a hard hit of pleasure explodes in my veins.

“We have to stop,” I whisper.

He shakes his head and pulls my mouth to his. “No. You have to come. Silently.”

I squirm—against his cock. His tongue flicks over my lips, and he kisses me deeply as he thrusts quickly. The sounds of everyone arriving are at the edge of my mind, and the fact that one sound means anyone and everyone would know what we’re doing somehow makes it hotter and turns me on more.

Thankfully, I’m close, so it takes all of a couple of minutes until my pussy tightens around his cock and I somehow manage to keep my cry to nothing more than a whimper muffled by his shoulder. He comes moments later, holding me tight against him.

I rest my forehead against his shoulder and wrap my arms around his waist, closing my eyes.

He’s right.

I do feel better.

A lot, lot better.

Drake pulls out of me and tilts my head up. His gaze searches mine, and his lips pull to the sides. “Better?”

I look away, smiling, and slap his chest before grabbing some tissue. “Except for the fact that I have to wear these panties all day.”

“Nope.” He wipes his cock, throws the tissues in the trash, pulls his pants up, and then pulls a black thong from his pocket. He winks. “Just in case.”

I smack my lips together and take it from him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you planned this.” I hop off the desk to change my panties.

I do appreciate his preparedness though. Not gonna lie.

“I hoped.”

I glare at him.

“You’re right.” He pulls me to him once I’ve changed and slides his hands down my ass. “I had a dirty dream about you and I had to leave before I could do anything about it.”

I can’t help but smile at him. “Well, thank you for your thoughtfulness.” I grin, grab the dirty thong from the desk, and tuck that into his pocket. “Try not to let it fall out.”

“Yeah... That’s going straight home.” He kisses me and lets me go so I can clean my desk.

“Next to the laundry basket, right? On the floor?”

“Of course. Where else am I putting it?” His grin is as sassy as a man as tall and fit as he is can pull off, but it disappears quickly. “Wait—is your camera on?”

I blink at him and clap my hand over my mouth. “Shit, Drake! The camera!”

He rubs his hand down his face.

“Is turned off.” Now, it’s my turn to give the sassy grin as his blue eyes turn on me.

He reaches for me, but I laugh and dart away. He’s much quicker than I am and spins me back into his body, where he locks his arms around me and kisses the top of my forehead.

“Bitch. You scared the shit out of me.”

“But your expression was so adorable.” I laugh and kiss him. “Thank you. I feel better.”

“I know.” He smirks cockily. “What can I say? I’m a killer detective, hot as fuck, and a sex god. You’re so lucky.”

Oh man. He’s been around me too long.

I shake my head and escape from his arms. “You’re insane.”

“You’re rubbing off on me.”

“Literally, in the case of five minutes ago.”

“Noelle. You’re turnin’ me on again.”

I throw a smile over my shoulder as I unlock and open my door and head to Carlton’s office. Drake follows me. My blond, shaggy-haired computer whizz kid is sitting behind his desk, his fingers flying over his keyboard faster than my mind can comprehend. The frantic tapping of keys fills the room, and I don’t want to know what he’s doing, but it looks important.

Or he’s blowing someone’s ship up or kicking their ass at Tetris or something. I don’t know.

“Nice phone call?” He glances up over my shoulder and smirks.

“Watch your mouth, kid, or I’m taking you off my Friday afternoon coffee run list.”

He zips his lips. “I have something you want.”

“Did you go to GiGi’s?”

“No.”

“Then I highly doubt you do.”

“Okay. I’ll keep Lucas to myself.”

“Shut the fuck up. You found him?” I shriek. And, yes, I clap my hands together. Seal exhibition, I’m on my way.

Carlton stops tapping and peers at me over the top of his laptop screen. “You doubted me?”

“Yeah. It was up there with looking for alien life.” I practically skip, still barefoot, to his desk. “You really found him.”

He taps one button hard and pulls a red paper file from beneath a notebook next to him. “Lucas Hargreaves. Born August fifteenth, nineteen eighty-two in Omaha, Nebraska. Lived there until he left for Miami State University on a football scholarship, where he graduated top of his class, was in the running for valedictorian, and enrolled in the draft his senior year.”