“How do we know he’s really watching?” he asks, glancing up at the mirrors again. “Can’t exactly text him.”
“He’s watching,” I reply. “This is Hunter we’re talking about. He’s never late and always shows up.”
“True,” he replies.
“So just stop thinking about him and try to relax.” Drake has so much confidence around women and I hate to see him so uptight and uncomfortable with me.
“You’re right,” he says, jumping out of his seat. When he swallows the distance between us, I tense up. “I’m just going to…stand close to you, okay?”
“You literally rubbed your erection on me today, Drake. I can handle you standing close.”
He doesn’t laugh at my joke, and the second he crowds me on my stool, he steps away again. “I can’t do this. It feels so wrong.”
Reaching out a hand, I set it on his, feeling the tremble under his skin. “Drake, just kiss me.”
“What?” he stammers, staring at me with a look of shock.
“Kiss me. I think it might make things feel more natural.”
His chest is heaving as he stares at me, his eyes leveled on my lips.
“You want to freak him out, and yet, the only one freaking out right now is you,” I add.
“I think I need to get out of here. I don’t like this place,” he replies, and I feel my shoulders deflate in disappointment. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Drake made a bet with Hunter, and those two don’t make bets they’re not willing to pay up for, but if Drake doesn’t get out of his head, then this is about to get so much more uncomfortable.
But he’s right. This club is terrible and not the right vibe at all.
“Okay, come on. Let’s go,” I say, standing and reaching a hand out toward him, which he takes, before I lead him toward the exit. But when I try to take the short way to the left, Drake nudges me to the right, around the bar, and I assume he just wants to see the far side of the room. The lights are a little dimmer here, and it’s not as congested with people.
I take one glance back up at the mirrors on the second level when I hear Drake whisper my name.
“Iz.”
I glance back at him quickly before his hands are on my waist and I’m being pressed into the pink wall. I gasp, my mouth open as I stare up at Drake, and he takes the opportunity to capture my lips in his. Then, he’s kissing me. Drake is kissing me, and not some awkward pressing of our lips, but a ravenous, overwhelming kiss.
A short murmur slips through before his tongue is in my mouth, not invading or forcing, but softly exploring. Our tongues glide together as he hums, a deep gravelly earthquake of sound that makes my knees weak and my panties wet.
Drake is so much taller than me so being crowded between him and the wall feels a lot like being swallowed up by him, and I love it. His hands are still frozen on my waist, but with every lap of our tongues, he squeezes, like he’s sending me a silent signal of desire.
My hands, which were glued to his chest a moment ago, relax and begin to roam, exploring the hard surface of his pecs before gliding upward to wrap around his neck, giving him even more access to my body as it curves eagerly against him.
When his hands lower, wandering over my ass and squeezing one whole cheek in the palm of his hand, heat strikes my core. And when he lowers his touch even farther, gathering up the back of my dress as his hands move, my heart beats even faster.
In his aroused hunger, he brings my dress up far enough to expose my ass and puts his palm against my flesh, squeezing again, this time with another low growl. With his body pressed to mine, I feel the erection in his pants, grinding against me like a promise. I ache to touch it.
Then, he pulls away from our kiss, both of us breathless with his hand still on my ass, his large fingers dangerously close to something else entirely. Our foreheads are pressed together as we both try to catch our breaths, eyes closed and tense.
His fingers squeeze again, this time nudging them closer to the warmth of my moist panties. And I gasp. Ever so subtly, he rubs the tip of his finger against the fabric, before pushing it aside and finding the sensitive folds underneath.
My eyes open as I stare up at him.
“Is this okay?” he whispers.
My cheeks are hot. My neck is hot. My chest and stomach and arms are all so hot I am nothing but a blazing inferno of desire and indecision.
Is this okay?
This is what we came to do, right? This is why we’re here, but then again, it’s not like Hunter can see that Drake’s finger is delicately prodding the entrance of my eager pussy.