“Drake,” I holler while walking out of the bathroom.
“Hey, you.” He comes around the corner. His arm is out of his sling. I raise my eyebrow at him.
“Good morning.” I lean up, wanting a kiss even with a question playing on the tip of my tongue. Drake gives in to me, grabbing my ass and molding our bodies against one another. It’s one of those all-consuming kisses that leaves us breathless.
“I like that kind of good morning,” I tell him. He kisses me again before pulling back and asking, “Will you help me? I’d ask if you want to join me in the shower, but there’s no way I could not give in to temptation, and angel, I no doubt would.”
“There you go with that sweet talk again. This time, I wouldn’t let you pull away either. I’d drop down to my knees, take you in my mouth, and not stop until you came down my throat.” Two can play this game.
“Fuck, I knew there was a fire deep inside you,” he replies. I take the plastic out of his hands.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Go shower. Didn’t you say the guys and their wives were coming today? If you want me here like you said you did, I kind of need to go home, take a shower, and change.” I point down to his shirt I’m wearing with a pair of his boxers that I had to roll up three times.
“Angel, they look better on you than me. You can wear those.” I see the smirk playing on his lips.
“How about no. Go take a shower. Then I’ll rebandage you, grab a quick shower, go home, change, then come back.” He smacks my ass as he walks to the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door. Oh no. Drake drops his boxers, and I get a world class view of his naked ass. He steps in the shower, my eyes glued to his. The shower door is fogged up, and it’s depriving me of the view I was lucky enough to feel all night long.
“Angel, my cell is ringing. Will you answer it?” He knocks me out of my reverie. I nod and go about getting his phone off the nightstand.
“Hello,” I murmur breathlessly, still trying to gulp air into my lungs from being in a sexual trance.
“Hello,” I say again. Still, there’s no answer. What there is in the background is something out of a nineteen seventies porno scene. Don’t ask how I know, I just do. It’s groaning, skin slapping, over-exaggerated moaning, and I’m about to throw up in my mouth.
I don’t think twice. I keep saying “Hello” until I get into the bathroom and wave my hands around like a lunatic to get Drake’s attention. I point at the phone once he sees me.
“Hello,” I state again. I mouth, “Some weirdo is on the phone.” When Drake steps out, he’s in all of his naked glory, and if I weren’t grossed out about this phone call, I would really take the time to look him up and down. I hand Drake the phone. He listens until I assume he hangs up or the caller does.
“Fuck, I need to call Easton. That call needs to be traced. We thought it was a part of Kellie’s situation with her ex when we got the last call at the office.”
“What do you mean? You guys just randomly get pornographic phone calls day and night?” I’m trying to make light of the situation even though I can see Drake is fuming mad.
“No, but the call doesn’t have a caller ID on it, which means it’s going to be a bitch to trace. Why don’t you take a shower. I’ll call the guys. Anyway, do you think your parents would mind bringing you over a change of clothes? I wanted to go with you and meet them, but with this call, I’d like to keep you here. If they can’t do that, I’ll text Slade. Taylor can stop at the store and pick you up something.” Drake’s voice is exasperated.
“Okay, promise to tell me what all this is about though?”
“Of course.” He kisses the side of my head, still naked as the day he was born, and already on his phone. I take it as my cue to make my own phone call, hoping like hell my dad doesn’t go bananas, get pissed himself, and hate Drake in the meantime.
Eleven
Drake
Six Weeks Later
Every few days, like clockwork, I either get a call on my cell phone or my office line. We’ve blocked them, tried to trace them. Shit, Easton and Cam moved back home, which has been a long time coming, but all of us were happy as a pig in shit when they told us their plans earlier this year. Though, we still have not one fucking lead. He’s slowly coming back into the fold even though he owns his own company now. It’s stumped us all, and it’s churning at my gut night and day. The only good thing that came from today is that I made great progress, so I’m officially cleared from the doctor to do light work and only going to physical therapy twice a week.