Authors: Devon Herrera
“What’d he do?”
“He almost killed someone.” I whisper. “They were in the hospital for a long time.” That’s all I’m going to tell him so I move to walk past him.
“My father is in prison.” Drake says softly just as my hand reaches the door knob of my bedroom. “He almost killed my mom one night.” I don’t turn around and close my eyes at the sadness I feel for Drake’s younger self. No child should have to go through something like that. “Anyways, I understand. I just thought you should know. There is no judgment here. Not from me.”
“Thanks for that, Drake, but we both know it’s unnecessary for you to try to sympathize with me. You said it yourself, you don’t care about me that way.” I know I’m being harsh but Mother ripped the proverbial Nathan sized band aid off just mere minutes ago, and the sting was still present. I close the door softly behind me and pull my night gown from my dresser to dress for bed.
My movements are robotic as I dress and pull my hair back for the night. As awful as the things my brother did were, losing Nathan wasn’t easy either. We were never really close, and he always had a sense of entitlement that came from my family’s financial status. It wasn’t until he hurt someone completely innocent in such a violent way that we realized he wasn’t redeemable.
I crawl under the covers and close my eyes and try to clear my mind. The oblivion of sleep is more than welcome at this point. Just as I’m drifting off, I feel the bed sink next to me. “Drake? What are you…” Strong fingers press my lips together mid protest.
“I never said I didn’t care.” Drake’s deep rumbling voice fans warm breath along my face, and he moves his hand from my mouth to tunnel under my hair and grasp my nape. “You don’t know me, because if you did you would run far away from me, but I never said I didn’t care.”
His words are puzzling and comforting at the same time. “Why would I ru-…” Drake presses his lips against mine to stop me from finishing my sentence once again in a brief, fleeting kiss that spreads chills throughout my body.
“This doesn’t change anything between us, you know that right?” He asks, and although I have a feeling it actually has changed, I need the distraction his body will provide me tonight, so I nod, brushing my lips against his again.
“Kiss me, Drake, I need this tonight.” I confess and he complies with a deep hungry groan, taking my mouth with his furiously.
My fingers tunnel into inky black curls as our tongues twist and turn together. Tension rolls off of Drake as he kisses me. I’m not sure where this side of him came from, or why he decided to add this level of emotion to our relationship, or if he even knew what this would mean to me. Either way, I’ve shifted. He’s made it more than clear he’s not going to go there with me, so dwelling on any amount of emotion I feel for him would be a mistake.
My only saving grace is what is happening right at this very moment. Emotions may be off limits, but physical displays are what this arrangement is all about. So, I’ll show him with my body how much his comfort means to me. I’ll return the favor without him even knowing it. My feelings regarding commitment haven’t changed, but bone deep attraction has grown into an easy affection based on trust. I trust Drake with my body and maybe one day I’ll trust him with my secrets, even if I could never trust him with my heart.
As usual, Drake is the most thorough kisser I’ve ever experienced. He seduces with ever part of his mouth. His kisses aren’t confined or restrained to lips and tongues, he nips and sucks and brushes, traveling across my chin and neck as well as my lips. It’s as though he can’t stand to do something the normal way, the standard way. That would be too predictable, too mundane for him. No, Drake has to make a meal out of kissing, and God help me if I don’t love being his sustenance.
With a low growl, Drake hauls me out from under him and off the bed to stand in front of him. He impatiently rips my clothes from my body, and then picks me up to deposit me exactly as I was, completely naked.
“Better,” is all he says as he drags his marauding lips down my body.
“It would be if you would take those damn boxers off.”
Drake chuckles against my breast and the sensation is strangely erotic. I clutch his hair tighter in my hands and an embarrassing moan escapes my lips. “You liked that?” He asks as though he has discovered some amazing new secret. Before I can come up with a sarcastic comment he takes the tip back in his mouth and hums deep in this throat causing a delicious vibration across my sensitive skin.
My back arches off the bed when he continues his assault, the sucking and gentle vibrations sending warmth pooling throughout my body. As if sensing how close I am, Drake trails two fingers down my belly then circles them between my thighs. The tips of his fingers swirl around and around as if tracing a spiral. It’s as though he’s winding me up, tightening some unseen spring inside of me. My muscles clench and I pant and writhe under Drake, pinned by his large body to the mattress and unable to fight against the rush, not that I’d want to.
I think I’m going to stay hovering on the edge of my climax forever until the maddening fingers change course and are thrust deep inside me. The pulsing release forces a cry out of my throat, and I barely register Drake sheathing himself in a condom before I feel him slide into me. Drake and I groan together as I clamp down on him, still in the midst of the longest orgasm of my life. My body is jostled with the force of his first thrusts, so Drake sits up on his knees and grasps my hip with one hand and threads the fingers of his other with my own to hold me in place as he continues to pump on relentlessly.
“Drake, hurry I can’t take it anymore.” My body is still shaking and quivering and the feeling is as disconcertingly helpless as it is pleasurable. I want to hold him in me forever and push him away at the same time.
“Hush, Lo.” He says softly, tangling his mouth with mine.
I get lost in his kiss and run my free hand through his hair slowly. After a few seconds Drake’s lips start to lose their rhythm, his thrusts become faster and harder, and the hand at my hip tightens to the point of pain. I squeeze the hand encased in mine and his forehead drops to my shoulder as he finally shudders and groans his release into my neck.
I run my fingers down his back to sooth him for a few minutes, and if it weren’t for his unsteady breath, I would assume he was sleeping. He lays on top of me completely still and silent for minutes before moving to discard the condom. I’m sure he’ll leave like usual so I roll over and let the sleep start to claim me.
“Sweet dreams, sunshine,” echoes through my foggy mind before I’m engulfed in darkness.
CHAPTER 9
“Spending that many hours in the saddle gave a man plenty of time to think. That's why so many cowboys fancied themselves Philosophers.”
-Charles M. Russell
Mmmm. That smell. I know that smell.
I’m just drifting into consciousness when my senses pick up the scent of ambrosia.
Coffee. Give me! I must have coffee now!
I reach out blindly with my eyes still closed. My hands close around air, but that won’t stop me. I search around some more and end up slapping warm rough skin.
God damn it! This is not coffee!
“It would probably help to open your eyes.” The familiar sarcastic humor is definitely not welcome at this moment. No matter how sexy the voice is.
“Give it to me.”
“I’m sorry, did you say, ‘Shiv him do bee?’”
I push my face up off of the pillow and glare at him through my hair. “Do you have a death wish, Thomas?”
Drake chuckles and lifts the mug in the air right by my face and swirls it around in circles. “If you want this, you better sit up like a good girl.”
“Good girl my patutee; you coffee depriving jackass.” I mumble as I sit up.
“I didn’t deprive you of anything,” Drake says as he hands me the cup of steamy goodness. “I made it this morning hoping to avoid your particular brand of morning cheer.”
I ignore his rude comment and take a large gulp, closing my eyes to savor the warmth as it spreads through my body. After two more healthy swallows, the sleep fog clears and I squint over at Drake.
“What are you doing here anyway? You usually pull a Houdini as soon as I fall asleep.”
Drake seems to think about his answer, pulling his cap off to run his fingers through his hair before putting the cap back on. He readjusts the brim several times before he seems to realize what he’s doing.
“I did leave. I came back this morning. The weather is pretty calm right now, so I thought I’d go for a ride.” He says.
“And this required waking me up, why?”
“You know, I’ve never met a country girl who hated getting up early. Didn’t your parents make you get up early for chores when you were little?”
“Why do you think I’m so addicted to coffee? I’ve been drinking it since I was ten.”
Drake chuckles and stands. “Well if you want to join me you better get going. I leave in fifteen with or without you.”
It takes me exactly twelve minutes to gulp down another cup of coffee, brush my teeth, pull my hair up and get dressed. I get outside and walk over to the hitching post, and Drake is leaning against Ruger with his hat pulled down. Standing next to them is Taz, who is already fully brushed and saddled. It seems I was a foregone conclusion.
“What made you think I’d come?” I ask.
Drake’s head snaps up as though he had no idea I was here; which is curious since I had to walk over several yards of snow and rocks to get here. His eyes are totally black beneath the shadow of his hat. He stares into me for several seconds and the sensation is totally unnerving. His face is always so guarded, I usually can’t tell what he’s thinking like with most men. This time there’s a distinct emotion in his gaze I can’t decipher. Before I can think on it further, he pushes up to full height and grabs Ruger’s reins and swings up into a perfect mount.
“You can’t resist this anymore than I can,” he says as I walk over to Taz and push up into the saddle.
“This?” I ask
“Riding,” he says, far too loudly, as though he’s driving the point home, and then gives Ruger one gentle kick and takes off at a trot towards the pasture hills.
We take off galloping through the brush and snow covered crests, with nothing except the sky above us and the earth around us. Usually this time of year is stormy and windy and freezing. This morning it’s cool and calm and totally peaceful. Winter is definitely my least favorite season, but even I will admit there are few things more beautiful than snow covered pine trees under an orange sunrise.
Drake stops at one of the many water troths we have spread throughout the property and jumps down off of Ruger’s back to stab at the think sheet of ice on top just as she leans down to take a drink. I step down from Taz and lead him over next to Ruger, who stops mid drink to whinny and groan at the other horse. Taz affectionately bumps his head into her neck and then leans down to drink from the water.
“Those two are hilarious. It’s like their long lost lovers or something,” I say giggling at the horsey affection.
Drake chuckles and runs his hand down Ruger’s neck. I unbuckle the saddle bag on Taz’s back and pull two biscuits from inside and walk over to Ruger. I pat her on the neck and hold my hand down where she can see it. Her lips tickle my palm as she very gently takes the treat into her mouth. I comb my fingers through her mane, and feel Drake slip his finger into my other hand to pull the second biscuit from me. I look up and see him walk over to Taz and copy my movements almost exactly. It hits me then how alike Taz and Drake are; both dark, strong, loyal, and just a little bit wild.
Drake notices me staring at him with a big goofy grin on my face and he raises his eyebrow in question. “My horse looks like you!” I say laughing. He glances down at Taz and smiles slightly.
“Yea you’re right we…” Drake trails off and his eyes widen as he glances back up. “Fuck.”
“Fuck, what?” I ask.
“Lola, look at Ruger,” he says.
I look down and Ruger is still slurping happily at the water. “What?”
“She’s blonde,” he says with a small smirk on his face. I look back down at her and smile, noting how close our colorings are.
“Wow! I never noticed that before. How crazy is that?!”
Drake takes the reins from me and points over to a tree a few yards away. “Let’s go sit down, I brought some food.” He starts to walk away from me then pauses and turns, “She has blue eyes too,” he adds. I grab the reins of my black eyed, black haired horse and follow him, smiling the whole way.
We tie up the horses loosely, next to each other of course, and eat our sandwiches as we watch the two lovebirds canoodle. The scene has me remembering something my dad had said about Drake not having anyone to help him with Ruger and all the same questions I had then come rushing back.
“Drake, can I ask you something about your parents?” I ask.
Drake stops mid chew and takes a drink of water. “You can always ask.”
“What happened with your dad? I just keep getting the impression you had a hard childhood.”
“What gave you that impression?” I shrug and wait for him to answer my previous question. He sets the rest of his sandwich down and takes another swig of water. “Do you want the condensed version, or all the gory details?” He asks.
“Well, we’ve got time, might as well start at the beginning.” I inch closer to him and steal a drink of his water and wait for him to finish his last bite.
“It’s your typical girl gets pregnant too young and guy wasn’t ready for it tale actually.” He starts out, staring into space. “My father loved the rodeo
,
and was on his way to going pro when my mother got pregnant with me. It was young love and I think at the time, he really did want to do right by my mom, so he quit the rodeo, got a job selling vacuums and married her.”