Cherry Bomb (10 page)

“I’m fully aware you’re a girl,” I said and
winked. “Girl enough to handle my Superman tricks.”

Her skin blazed as I traced my upper lip with
my tongue.

She slid out of the seat and held up a
finger. “Going to the little girl’s room.”

Sure, she was trying to slip away,
uncomfortable with me, I laughed and offered to play Noah in one
more round of old-fashioned pool.

Noah was an easy target but I had a blast
letting him win. Even Henry’s squealing as his brother knocked in a
ball was entertaining.

Drake, you need to get it together. No bitch
is worth all this.

But Cherry was no bitch, and I found this was
not only for her but me too. I had loved every second of the
day.

After the game, I gave Henry and Noah enough
coins for one more game between them, and found Cherry clearing off
the table we had eaten at.

I slid my arms around her, hoping she wanted
it to be me and me alone. She flipped around, when I placed a kiss
on her neck. I plastered her body to my side, banning my arm around
her waist. I had almost forgotten how delicate her body was;
feeling my hard, solid one pressed against her soft one acutely
reminded me of that very fact.

She pressed her lips together at the same
moment her eyes lit with what could only be described as
hopefulness.

“I have to go, beautiful,” I whispered in her
ear. “Thursday night, at the club, seven sharp.”

I watched her worry her lips between her
teeth. Remembering that they were almost as luscious as other parts
of her body, I wrapped my hand around her neck and massaged my
fingers deep into her skin. “Tip that beautiful face back, baby.
I’m going to kiss you now.”

I watched her face get closer, specifically
her amazing lip. My cock sprung at the thought of those plump lips
wrapped tightly around it.

“Drake, you want to play some more?” Noah
said across the dining room.

“No,” Cherry replied, her eyes darting from
my lips to her boys walking in our direction. She jerked from my
grasped and straightened her shirt, smiling nervously down at her
boys.

“Seven, don’t be late,” I whispered, tousled
Henry’s hair, and walked away leaving a look of shock on her
face.

I threw the mail across the kitchen table
after just getting back from the spinning class I had signed up for
over a month ago. I was in a funk; I couldn’t seem to shake.

I needed something to entertain my mind and
wear my ass out so Thursday nights would fly by.

The worst day in my week. James only had
visitation every other weekend but he did get to have the kids
every Thursday night that he was in town.

I hadn’t heard from or seen Drake since he
walked out of Touchdown Wings the Sunday before. I checked the time
on the microwave. It was eight o-three. I had thought about nothing
but his invitation to The Dungeon. I grabbed the apple juice from
the fridge. I didn’t need Drake screwing with any more of my life.
And I sure as hell didn’t need any mental pictures of him at the
club floating around in my head. Drake gave me the feeling I was
jumping off the roller coaster that had been my life for the last
sixteen plus years to leap onto a bigger and scarier one.

Amy was all for the jump. Actually, I had a
feeling Amy was ready to push me. She had encouraged me at every
turn to get back in touch with Drake. If she really knew what all
he had “showed” me during our interview? She would tie me to the
bed, snap a picture, and send it to his twitter account. I picked
up my cellphone to check if Drake even had a Twitter account when I
heard the doorbell ring.

I rolled my eyes, sure one of my daughter’s
friends was the one calling. Haven’t they learned she is never here
on Thursday by now?

Shit

I sat the cellphone on the counter, yanked my
yoga pants out of my ass crack, and wandered to the door. I opened
the wrought iron front door but left the security door firmly
locked, giving me a clear view of the front porch. Drake stood
there with his hands shoved in his pockets. On his face was a pair
of brown thick framed glasses, which on most people would scream
nerd alert, but on Master said he was a man who didn't take no for
an answer. Power oozed out of every pore in his body, and it was
obvious he didn’t make any apologies for it either. The living
version of polished, smart, grace, dominance, and sex on legs.

“I got tired of waiting on you, baby doll,”
he said but never smiled.

Oh hell, he’s pissed.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Hopefully you.” The corners of his mouth
turned up to reveal a perfect set of the whitest teeth.

The dangerous shadows dancing in his eyes
alone, should’ve been enough to set off the alarms in my head, but
it didn’t. And common sense told me if he wanted to do me, it would
happen. I was positive no woman was capable of saying no to
him.

“You really meant for me to come?”

“I never say anything I don’t mean. Now open
the door and let me in.”

I stood there staring out at him,
dumbfounded.
Why was he really here and what did he want from
me?

With a cocked eyebrow, he said, sternly,
“Door. Now. Baby.”

I unlocked the security door, and sighed a
sigh of relief when his lips turned up into his heart-stopping
smile.

Drake stepped forward and stopped within
inches of me. I could feel the heat pour off his body but he didn’t
make contact. I fought with the urge to lean forward. I wanted to
run my nose along his collarbone.
God, he smelled like leather,
musk, and manhood.

His mouth hit mine for a hard, lingering kiss
that included his tongue sweeping over my lips in a way that made
my nipples harden instantly. I loved the way he commanded a kiss,
as if every cell in his body would combust if he didn’t, and he had
almost waited until it was too late. My heart was beating
franticly. I clutched his arms as he slid his hand from my jaw to
my neck.

“Hey, beautiful,” he murmured against the
skin along my cheekbone. “I’ve done nothing but think of you and
what I am going to do to you tonight.”

I closed my eyes tight, unable to bear the
intimate way he was looking at me, and waited until my lips stopped
tingling before I opened them. Drake had pushed passed me and
sauntered into my living room more like he was at home than a first
time visitor.

“Make yourself at home,” I said.

“Plan on making myself very comfortable,” he
responded, causally planting his fine ass onto my sofa and kicking
his ginormous feet onto my antique, wood coffee table. I guess it
was true what they say about the size of a man’s shoes. My ex wore
a seven.

“Swanky,” he said with a whistle and motioned
around the living room. “I’m in the wrong field if you can afford
all this on a part-time gig at a small magazine.”

My home, or as it was also known as James’s
mission statement, had become almost an embarrassment to me. James,
who was an orthopedic surgeon and the last seven years had owned a
research company in North Carolina, demanded only the best. The
house was a hundred and fifty year-old Victoria mansion, and only
two blocks from the hospital James practiced at. We had spent six
months remodeling it to be the showcase it was today. The house
even boasted two kitchens. One for the staff when we hosted a party
and the other for family dinners and day to day life. Both included
top-of-the-line appliances and kickass cabinets and counters. My
favorite part of the house was the three acres it sat on. I loved
yard work and had spent hours upon hours turning an overgrown
jungle into a garden that would turn any gardener green with envy.
I found it peaceful to work in the earth, and after the last few
years, peace was the thing most void from my life.

“I married for money,” I said and cut my eyes
down to the ground. “Because there sure was not any love in
it.”

“You didn’t love him?”

His tone floored me. I looked down at my feet
and wiggled my manicured toes. Drake’s face was the picture of
composure, throwing me because his voice and his mannerism didn’t
match up.

I glanced back up at Drake to see he had
stood to his feet.

“I loved him,” I whispered.

He studied me. Drake standing, staring down
at me, and filling my living room with a butt load of testosterone
was calming. I liked having him here.

“Drake, why did you really?”

I didn’t finish because I found myself no
longer standing across from him but sitting firmly in his lap.
Before I could utter another word, I found his lips descending over
mine with enough force to knock the air from my lungs. I didn’t
quite understand it but the feel of his hard body and the power
that naturally emanated from it was more relaxing than anything I
had ever experienced before.

“I lied to you, baby. I told you that I was
going to worship this body, and I am but not until you realize this
is not just about sex for me. Sex is cheap, and you don’t deserve
cheap. I don’t care if I did spend all day in the gym kicking my
own ass to control my fucking hormones.”

I put my hands on his chest to brace myself
to move from his lap to the sofa cushions, but I couldn’t make
myself do it once I had my hands on him. “You work out? I thought
sex was your workout.” I asked and grounded my hips over his
not-so-small erection. “

“Of course, they both have their benefits.
But you didn’t think I achieved this body with just my bowl of
Lucky Charms every morning and the occasional romp in the hay?”

I doubt it was the OCCASIONAL
experience.

I went to speak, but Drake shook his head and
smiled. “You interviewed me. Now it's my turn to interview
you.”

Remembering he already knew more about me
than I ever dreamed of knowing about him, I looked into his eyes
and could sense he might not be the guarded fortress he was when I
interviewed him for the paper. “This or whatever we have going on
is already on uneven ground,” I said, pressing my hands against his
chest and fisting his snug shirt, pulling him closer to me.

He lightly kissed the tip of my nose. “Fair
enough. For every question I get an honest answer for, I’ll give
you one. No holds bar.”

I let out a deep breath and nodded. There was
so much I wanted to know about the man who was slowly crumbling the
walls I had built around me. I moved and sunk down onto the
couch.

“When is your birthday?” he asked first.

“July third.”
It’s also my anniversary and
not a day I celebrate.
“Dogs or cats.”

“Neither. I have enough trouble taking care
of myself. Movies or TV?”

“TV. Movies cost too much. Restaurants or
home cooking?”

“Home cooking. I never get it. Tattoos or
bare skin?”

I rubbed my hand down his arm and over his
left shoulder which was covered with a tattoo of an eagle with his
talons puncturing a human heart, on his forearm was a large cross.
James thought tattoos were too low class for a man such as him.

“Tats definitely,” I said, pondering him.
“Where have you been the past few weeks?”

“Working, I had a job in North Carolina I had
to take care of?”

James always had a job in North Carolina,
too. Please, don’t be another James. My life has been wrecked
enough.

“Other than seducing women, what’s your job?”
I asked and placed my feet onto his lap.

A deep chuckle came from his chest, and I
watched as he darted his eyes from my face to the door and back to
my face again. He didn’t answer at first. He slipped the flip flop
I had on off my foot and ran the edge of his thumbnail across my
instep. It was painful but a good pain that sent a shiver to my
groin.

“What makes you say I seduce women for a
living?” he asked, reaching his hands across the couch to hold
mine. If I didn’t know better, I would say he was scared.

“You run that club.” I wanted to add more,
tell him that he was good at his job but I couldn’t. Drake lifted
his dazzling blue eyes to stare into mine. I wanted to curl back up
in his lap and leer into those eyes for hours.

“I’m a private investigator. A damn good
one,” he added.

I almost felt an instant relief. The invasion
of privacy wouldn’t have been a hard trick on a guy that pries into
someone else’s life for a living. I was not the exception. I was
the rule. Drake didn’t get close until he knew what or who he was
getting close to.

I pulled my knees and feet under me and moved
closer to him.

“Are you going to ever tell me how extensive
your research was?”

“Believe me, you don’t want to know.”

Oh, you have no idea how much I want to
know everything about you.
And if I have to play games to learn
the truth I would. “Your turn,” I said.

“Now that you’re getting the hang of it, tell
me something about you that no one else knows?”

A thought came to my mind, but I didn’t want
to sound pathetic.

He leaned in and whispered, “And make it
good.” He rolled me on my back until he was hovered over me. His
breath was hot as it streamed down onto my face.

I swallowed, trying to think of what to tell
him. “I like when you spanked me, but for the life of me I can’t
figure out why I like for someone to punish me.”

“Because it’s not a punishment if your body
craves it.” He blinked, absorbing my words. “You were made for me.
Your skin was made specifically for my touch, your mouth was
created to mold into mine, and your body was formed to fit
perfectly against me.” He paused and raised up a fraction. “What
have you done to me?” he asked before pressing a kiss to my
shoulder and taking a deep breath. “Whatever you’re doing don’t
stop.”

What are you doing to me is more the
question?
“How can you say that?”