Lily's Mistake(9)

Drake roars with amused laughter. "That sharp wit of yours, Babe, it  will get you in trouble. I get turned on more when you whiplash me with  your words. I can't help it. You're sexy as hell …  and that dress is  giving me all sorts of ideas … " Drake uses the back of his fingers to  trace my naked back and doesn't stop until it reaches the top of my ass.  "I do so want to rip this off your body. You naked with your heels on  and nothing else... bent over and ready to be mounted."

Mother of God! What in the world?! "Damn it, Drake. We're at a fucking  event. Stop being such a horny kid and focus," I chide him, but to no  avail.

"You can't dress like this, dangle this sinful body of yours, and not  expect me to react." Drake moves closer, his state of arousal hard  against my butt cheek. I try to compose myself before I pass out from  the feel of it. "Behave yourself tonight. I don't want you talking to  other men."

I straighten up, tense. "You wish."

"Don't push it, Lily. You've been running away from me for too long.  That's coming to a close. I will possess every inch of you, soon …  very  soon." Drake's deadly warning pins me on the spot, but I will not be  threatened.

"Not yours, Drake. Now, go find your seat and be a good boy. I will find mine. I'll see you around."

When Mindy made the reservations, she had assumed that Shannon was going  to be with Drake tonight, so our seating arrangements are different. I  am grateful for it since the tension is too much with him. I can only  take it in small doses.

Of course, Drake sits with The VIP's while I sit next to the minions,  but I don't mind it. In fact, I have a blast. Chris, a guy who works at  one of the most sought after PR firms in Hollywood, is quite  entertaining. His stories about celebrities are hilarious. It actually  drowns out whoever is talking and making a speech about so and so. Yeah,  I don't pay much attention on those since Chris's storytelling is much  livelier and not as much of a snooze fest by some stuck-up CEO.

I'm already on my fourth champagne flute by the time dessert rolls in  when Chris asks me to dance, I delightfully say yes. He chooses a spot  where it is dark and secluded. I don't mind since he is quite attractive  with his brown hair, mini-faux hawk and chocolate brown eyes. Chris  holds me close against him as we dance to the slow jazz beat.

We're not dancing for long before a gruff voice comes out from behind  me. "Excuse me, but I need my assistant. Right now," Drake barks while  Chris apologizes as he recognizes who Drake is.

When Chris leaves, Drake orders me to follow him outside. His chilly  demeanor makes me nervous. Drake leads me to the garden, away from the  fountains and the noise, behind some tall bushes. Once we are out of  earshot, all hell breaks loose.         

     



 

"How dare you defy my order! Did you enjoy flaunting him to me?" It's  dark, and yet, I can still see the anger profoundly etched across his  face.

"I wasn't thinking …  honestly, I forgot about you for a bit."

That stops him. "Did you just tell me that …  you forgot about me?"

I lick my lips nervously as I look away. "Well, newsflash, Buddy. You're not the only attractive man living on the planet."

Drake cusses me out before he moves in and before I know it, he is  biting my lips hard and devouring them. I don't even hesitate to respond  when he growls as one of his hands seeks the slit of my dress and  roughly pushes my underwear aside. I mindlessly writhe against him as he  drives his middle finger inside me while his thumb crushes my clit. In a  minute, I'm coming apart from his fingers.

"What you said is true …  but there is only one man that is meant for you …   and you are staring at him, moaning his name as you come beautifully on  his fingers. Stop fighting it, because I have. I'm yours."





What the hell just happened? "Will you please take your fingers off me?" I'm red with shame and totally beyond humiliated.

Drake takes his fingers off, but fixes my underwear back beforehand. He  leans over and kisses the tip of my nose. "I guess you're still  rejecting the idea of us?"

"Damn right, I am. I want to go home now, Drake. I am done playing your games."

Drake is silent while he stands there watching me. "You're tired and  clearly drunk. You need to rest before we leave for Greece on Sunday."

"Greece?" I croak. He never mentioned anything about Greece. Well, his  agenda has been curiously absent of a few things. Drake seems to love  throwing events at me quite unexpectedly.

"One of the biggest investments we have made this year. The movie is  called Blasphemous with Bass Cole. I have to see how everything is going  and check if they need more for the budget or what not."

"How long will we be there?" My heart hammers against my chest. I know  what this is. Drake is going in for the kill. He is going to drive me  crazy until I give it up to him. I haven't forgotten his ever reliable  tactic for women; he's used it ever since we were kids.

"More or less, three days."

That's hell of a long time. A day is enough to drive me mental with him.  Three days is surely going to put me on suicide watch. "Work …  I will  work …  but the underlying agenda you have, Drake, won't happen."

"We shall soon find out, Little One."

Precise. Cold. And fucking determined.





9

Drake, as promised, picks me up at three in the afternoon in a hired  limo. Not saying much to each other, he takes my luggage and hands it  the driver. I mumble my thanks to the cheery looking chauffer.

Why is Drake in a bad mood anyway? Am I not the one he humiliated at the  event? Aren't I the one who got the tongue attack from his crazy  ex-fiancée? I know he's finished with her, but I'm still a little  baffled as to why a man like Drake would want to date a woman like  Shannon Mallory in the first place. Sure, she's pretty to look at, but  surely there's more to a relationship than just wild sex? Well, if the  man in question is Drake, I'm sure IQ isn't necessary. He just loves his  women to be good to look at from what I noticed and heard.

I suppose that says a lot about him, doesn't it? How disappointing.

Since we're travelling, I have donned a pair of comfortable black  leggings and a black shirt with my Tory Burch flats. I loaded up my  E-reader earlier to make sure that I'll have all the books that I need  to catch up on ready and waiting, but I'm not too sure if I will have  enough time to read once we get there, since we're going to check out  the Blasphemous film-shooting. I am super excited to see and meet the  men of the movie. I am a mega fan when it comes to Bass Cole. Though I  don't mention this to Drake, he might think that I'm unprofessional if  he finds out that I am a diehard fan of one of the actors in the film  that they're backing.

We are in the first-class cabin and somewhere above the Atlantic Ocean  when he finally starts a conversation with me. "What happened with that  first boyfriend of yours, Aaron, was it?"

I gasp. What the fuck!?

Drake sees my shocked expression and offers an explanation. "Your mom …  she told me after I kept nagging her for a while."

I put down my e-reader and eye him cautiously. "Why are you so interested about my past?"

Drake nonchalantly shakes his head before he responds, "I wanted to know if you had moved on. I was curious, I guess."         

     



 

Right, of course, since I blurted it out that I loved him that night in  Mexico; he had probably wanted to make sure that I wasn't in love with  him anymore.

"Aaron was great. You know first love and what not. We were together for  two years and decided it wasn't working out anymore. So, we amicably  parted ways. I still talk to him from time to time." I pick up my  e-reader again and continue to read my book. After a few minutes, he  speaks up again.

"Funny, I thought I was your first love." Drake toys with his whiskey before he takes a sip.

"Huh? That is funny." Fuck, don't embarrass me, Drake! Drop the fucking subject already. Let it slide, please.

"Why did you tell me I was, then?" Drake picks up his whiskey, drains it  and places the cup back on the tray, his eyes stay glued on the glass  before him.

"I don't want to go back there, Drake." I meant it, too. That night is  best forgotten. I can't bring it up with him. Especially, since I have  no means to escape the conversation in the damn airplane …  then it occurs  to me that maybe this was his plan after all …

Clear gray eyes clash with mine. Somehow, there is sadness in them.  "What if I want to go back there and dig it up? We have to talk about  it, Lil."

I know, but not right now, we aren't. "Later, when I am ready to do so, let's leave it at that for now."

"As you wish, Little One."





"Lil?" Drake asks next to me.