And he did. His eyes were clearer than I’d ever seen, and his skin already had a healthy glow back to it. I walked over and stood by his chair, placing my hand on his shoulder for comfort. He was dressed in his regular clothes and his legs were spread wide. He had a relaxed grin on his cheeks and for once, his hand wasn’t shaking.
“I cussed Hank out for you,” Drake said.
“No need for all that. He was right to be mad,” I said.
“Doesn’t mean you talk to a woman that way.”
“Well, thank you for being my knight in shining armor.”
His hand came up to mine and he wrapped his fingers around my wrist. He brought the palm of my hand to his cheek and I felt the three-day stubble on his skin. I bit back the urge to run my fingertips along his jawline. I bit back the urge to straddle his lap. After a few days of being away from him, he was still irresistible.
And I hated myself for it even more. He was vulnerable and I was thinking about sex. It was like I didn’t even know who I was anymore.
His face turned into the palm of my hand and he kissed it. The warmth spread up my arm, causing my grip on my purse to release. He guided me around his chair and tugged me into his lap, and my hands planted on his chest to push away.
But instead of pushing away like I was telling myself to do, my hands curled into the fabric of his shirt.
Our lips collided as my brow furrowed. This wasn’t right. None of this was right. I hadn’t come here to do this. I came here to see him off to rehab, but dammit, I couldn’t resist the pull of him.
His hands rushed up my skirt, squeezing my thighs tighter than I wanted. His fingertips pulled my panties off to the side, ripping the fabric as my hands fiddled with his belt buckle. I managed to free him from the confines of his jeans as his cock throbbed in my hand, and I worked to straddle his lap as he held his girth for me. I sank down onto him, our motions desperate and his touch hotter than even I remembered it.
My legs shook as they dangled around his waist, my toes not quite touching the ground.
“We shouldn’t do this,” I said as his cock throbbed within me. “We—we can’t, Drake. Not here. Not now.”
“Delia, I’m about to go to rehab. I won’t be able to call you or see you. It’ll be months before I see you again. And I want you. I need you.”
I looked up into his eyes as he rolled his hips into mine. His touch was raw. Rough. Rugged and callused. He gripped me hard and thrust deeply into me . I leaned my face into his neck, trying to stifle my moans of pleasure.
I clawed at his shoulders, my body trembling in his arms as his hips assaulted my own. His large hands encompassed the whole of my hips as his dick slid in and out of my warmth. Salacious electricity surged through my veins, forcing whimpers up my throat as I muffled them with his shoulder.
No matter how much he fucked up and no matter where the hell he went with his life, I would always want him. Even if this was the last time I’d be able to have him.
He was like a sickness within me. A virus I couldn’t shake. I felt his cock throbbing against my fluttering walls as my arousal poured over him. His hips were stuttering, and his body was thrusting shallowly against mine.
My lips found his as he exploded within me, triggering my own orgasm as I fell over the edge.
My pussy pulled him deeper. My arms snaked around his neck as our tongues collided and I memorized the sweet taste of him. A taste untainted by alcohol.
Our foreheads knocked together as we drank in each other’s breaths. His cock stayed sheathed within me until it dwindled, slipping from my body.
He gave my ass one last squeeze before I removed myself from him.
I watched him stuff his cock back into his pants as I fixed my underwear and skirt. I wanted to reach out to him, to cover him in kisses and to stay with him, all day. My heart pounded in my chest as I touched the stubble on his face.
“You should probably go,” he said, staring out the window instead of looking at me.
“Drake, I don't want to go,” I said. Tears filled my eyes.
“You deserve better than this, Delia. Better than me. I'll only fuck up your life,” he said. “I shouldn't have asked you to come here.”
“But you did ask, and I came to support you.”
“Why?” he asked. “Why do you care so damn much?”
I couldn't answer that. It was more than just him being an addict and needing my help. I didn't want to turn my back on him.
“I don't know.”