“I had fun. No big deal. You know me.”
“Yes, I do know you.” It sounds like an admonishment. He leans against the adjacent counter, facing me with eyes narrowed, arms crossed. Biceps all in my face. Okay not in my face but I want them to be. “Do you remember that time in the ninth grade… that skit we did for acting class? The final exam?”
“Oh my god, Dray, I hadn’t thought of that in years!” My cheeks heat up remembering it. “God that was embarrassing. I hated that class.”
“Of course you did. You were like, the worst actress in the world.”
“Uh, thanks?”
“Tell me then…” His eyes darken a shade, his stare so leveled on me it’s like he’s trying to stop my heart. “…how does the worst actress in the world manage to be so convincing as my girlfriend?”
I look down to study the cutting board as if it’s become enchanted. “I was?”
“Mm. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were harboring deeper feelings for me, Harlow.”
“Hey.” I whirl toward him, wielding the chef’s knife with more relish than I intended. Gingerly I set it back down on the counter. “If I’m not mistaken someone else flunked that acting class. Someone else was also very…believable, tonight. That speech?” I cross my arms and quirk a brow, trying and failing to match his cool, calm, collected façade.
“Right.” He grins.
“So?”
“Babe…the hardest part about tonight wasn’t getting those folks to believe I had feelings for you,” he says. “I do.” He what? “The hardest part,” Drake goes on before I can even catch my breath, “was hiding the fact I’m falling in love with you.”
Hello, thoughts? Words? Hand gestures, anything? I go still, and mute, and utterly uncertain of what he’s saying, what’s happening right now. Am I dreaming? Where am I, really?
Drake pushes off the counter and snaps closed the distance between us. He cups my cheeks and looks intently at me, exactly the way he did throughout this evening’s ceremony, right before he was going to kiss me. For show. That was for show.
So what is this?
Heart, meet throat. He tilts my chin so that I have to crane my neck to look all the way up at his face, into his eyes. Suddenly a fierce wave of desire heads south, manifesting as hot, liquid oceans of yen. Drake looks at me like he somehow knows I’m soaked. He arrests my gaze.
“My question is…” Softly his fingers brush back some of my hair. “…Are you falling in love with me, Harlow?”
Is that what I’m feeling? Probably, yeah. Yes. A hundred times, yes.
“No,” I tell him. “I think… I’ve been in love with you for a while now.”
I watch the Adam’s apple bob in his throat, his only movement for too many heart-rending seconds. He’s wearing an expression I’ve never seen on his face before. Then, slowly, his lips curve into one of his signature liquid smirks.
He says, “Prove it.”
Four
Drake
I don’t know when the exact turning point was, the moment I started thinking of Harlow as more than a friend. Maybe we never turned a corner. Maybe this same road always aimed to bring us here.
“Prove it…how?” She’s reticent, but not unwilling. I can almost relate except that I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid of her, this, us—whatever we were, whatever we are, whatever comes next. Taking this new unexpected step isn’t a lot different than stepping into the Octagon. There’s a lot of fear in there. Fear of pain. Fear of losing. Fear of death.
But you can’t let the fear get inside your head. You can’t.
“However you wanna prove it to me.”
“Don’t make me go first,” she pleads, giggling shyly. Is this the side of her she’s kept from me all these years? She’s making me crazy, how fuckin’ adorable she can be. “You say it.”
“Are you dancing with me?” I ask.
“Do you…want me to dance with you?”
“Maybe later. Right now I just want to look at you.” I dip my gaze past the neckline of her dress, indicating exactly what I’d like to see. Everything.
“I’m not like the girls you date.”
“I know.” I wrap a fist over all that lush dark hair, and tug, so that she knows to roll her head back and around, baring her throat. “Cuz you’re the girl I’m going to marry.” I wet my lips and glide my tongue up her neck, her jaw. Her breathing shudders. My hands descend, coasting along every generous curve. The dress forms shimmering ripples as I work it up and up in fistfuls, over her hips, her tits, her head. Harlow giggles, nervously. I lay it down and quiet her with a starved kiss.
For the last two weeks I’ve wanted nothing more than to survey every inch of her body, but it’s been a long night and I’ve been thinking too much about diving in. Only her strapless bra and matching black lacy thong stop me from accosting her sweetest spots. They won’t, for long.
I sweep my fingers up along her inner thigh. Her smooth skin is damp already. Her breaths stagger as I come tantalizing close to grazing her hot, wet folds. Torturing her, torturing me.
I touch her wetness to my tongue, sampling her delicious, raw feminine taste. Aw yeah. My shaft lurches, hard, reaching for her. This gorgeous woman. My best friend. My girl.
“Jesus, Harlow.” I lick my lips. “You turn me on.”
“Really, I do?” she says, uncertain.
I take her hands, and weave our fingers together. “I want to make love to you.”
Her hands squeeze mine in return. “I want you to.”
“Thank Christ.” I plant a kiss on her nose. Harlow steps out of her heels. I lead her into the bedroom and sit her down at the foot of the bed. She tries to cross her arms over her fantastic cleavage. I peel them away, irritably. “Why’re you nervous?”
“It’s just…been a while. Since I’ve, um.”
“How long is a while?”
“Well. Let’s just say the last time I ate a popsicle—I spit on it first.”
I chuckle, amused. I’m sure she’s kidding. Like sixty-five percent sure. “If you’d like to demonstrate that technique, I’m just sayin’… I’d be willing to volunteer.”
“Would you now?”
“Hell yeah.” I trace the border of her bra, barely skimming the supple skin it’s hiding from me. Gooseflesh marks her local erogenous zones. “Remove this, please.”
Her eyes go wide. “It just feels like the point of no return. If you see…”
“Frankly, babe, we’ve done this a hundred times in my head already.” Wearing a happy smirk, I sit next to her at the edge of the mattress, laying my hand over her thigh. “I’m not inclined to turn back now.”
After a quick, surprised breath, Harlow smiles, and snaps it off from the middle of her back, never taking her eyes off mine as she lets her tits bounce out of their restraint.
I indulge my eyes some more, raking her upper body and face with just my gaze, as if to memorize the exact degree of every proportion, every soft sinuous curve. Yes, my girl has more to love, and I have time and a number of places where we could play…