DRAKE CLIMBED THE porch steps as the front door flew open and Serena barreled out. He stopped midstride. Her eyes were heavily lined, making the greens and browns stand out even more, and her hair had a just-been-taken look, a little wild and very sexy. It cascaded over her shoulders in natural waves. And holy cow, what was she wearing? Her shoulders were bare, and her top-if he could call it that-was only a few inches from top to bottom. It laced up the center, revealing not only a path of exquisite cleavage, but also her enticingly sexy belly, from hips to ribs. Her skirt stopped just above midthigh, with a tiny row of lace at the edge. His fingers curled with the itch to touch her.
"Drake?" she said with more than a hint of surprise. "I didn't think you'd show up."
He blinked several times to clear the lust from his brain, and when that didn't work, he forced himself to step onto the porch. "Did you think I'd leave you hanging?"
She lowered her gaze and said, "You left early. I wasn't sure … " The hurt in her voice was inescapable.
"Look at me, Serena." He waited until he had her full attention, and then he said, "You were on the phone, and I had to run to P-town to get something, but at no time did I consider standing you up for tonight." He pulled the jeweler's bag from his pocket, hiding it in his hand, and said, "I missed out on bringing you to your prom, and I was going to bring you a corsage, but at our ages it seemed … " This sounded much better in his head. "That's not true, Supergirl. Flowers die. That's why I didn't bring you a corsage. I wanted you to have a going-away present that would always be with you, something that would make you smile when things got tough." He opened the little velvet bag and withdrew the wrap bracelet he'd had made just for her.
Her eyes bloomed wide. "Drake … ?"
"I'm sorry I've been a little messed up lately." He wound the long, braided gold and brown leather bracelet, which was accented with dozens of tiny diamond stars, around her wrist several times. As he hooked the clasp he said, "My partner in crime is leaving and I'm not really sure which way is up anymore."
"This is … " Her eyes dampened as she gazed at the bracelet and then up at him. "It's beautiful. Thank you."
"A beautiful woman deserves beautiful things." He repositioned the bracelet so a circular gold charm rested in the center of her wrist. Then he withdrew the accessory chain from the bag and hooked it to the charm. "Spread your fingers, palm down."
She did, her eyes darting up to his, and he imagined giving her all sorts of commands.
Holding her gaze, he tried to push away those thoughts as he pulled the chain down the center of the back of her hand and wound the end around her middle finger and then connected it just above her knuckle to the tiny heart-shaped clasp.
"Oh, Drake," she said breathlessly. "I don't understand. Why … ?"
"I had it made for you so you always remember that everything is better under the stars. Is it comfortable? Too binding?"
Her eyes darkened, and she inhaled a sharp breath. "What? Um … No. Not at all."
"Good. Then shall we go celebrate?" He offered her his arm, and she wrapped her hand around it, holding her other hand out to admire the bracelet.
Serena fidgeted with the bracelet the whole way to the bar. Her skimpy skirt rode distractingly high on her thighs, making it difficult for Drake to rein in his desires as he turned on to the main drag in Truro, a neighboring town to Wellfleet, and caught her stealing a glance at him. She turned away so quickly, he didn't get a clear view of her face. He'd been fighting himself since he told her how he felt yesterday. He knew he was doing the right thing, but confessing his feelings for her and knowing she was leaving tomorrow had lit a wick that he felt burning down too fast. Every stolen glance, every breath she took in that barely there top felt like it came from his own lungs-and man, he wanted it to.
By the time they reached Undercover, she was nibbling on her lower lip, and that sexy innocence nearly made him detonate.
The lot was packed. He parked at the far end, beneath an umbrella of trees, and turned toward Serena. She was still staring straight ahead, her face a mask of apprehension, which tore at his gut. Was it him, or was it her leaving that was causing her distress?
He took her small hand in his and brushed his thumb over her warm skin, memorizing it to hold him over when she was gone. The gold chain sparkled against her sun-kissed skin. "Talk to me, Serena."
She turned to face him with worry in her eyes. He gently pulled her across the seat, close enough that he could almost feel her racing pulse between them.
"Aw, sweetheart, what's wrong? Are you nervous about leaving?"
"Yes," she said softly. "And about this." Her gaze fell to the bracelet. "It's gorgeous and sweet, but it's also confusing. What does it mean, Drake? On one hand I feel like you're sending mixed messages by avoiding me all day and then giving me this … " She ran her finger over the chain on her hand. "But on the other hand, you don't owe me an explanation about what you're up to at work, and you've given me presents before. This should be no different. But knowing how you feel about me makes it different."
He touched his forehead to hers and slid his hand to the nape of her neck, holding her there as he said, "I'm sorry. I told you I was messed up right now. I did avoid you today, but only because I can't stop thinking about"-making you mine, kissing you, and loving you until you can't remember why you wanted to leave in the first place-"things I shouldn't."
"Join the club," she whispered.
His insides flamed at the secret between them. He brushed his lips over her cheek, and she inhaled a ragged breath. It was so sexy, he did it again, earning another seductive inhalation. He drew back so he could see her face, still holding the back of her neck, and she clutched his forearm. Her breasts rose with each heavy breath, and her tongue slicked over her lips, making his mouth water. There was no denying the calculated, seductive move. Nicely played. Their eyes locked, and hers narrowed ever so slightly, suddenly brimming with confidence, and if he was reading her right, which he was darn sure he was, also ripe with challenge.
"You're going to make a liar of me if you keep looking at me like that."
"Sometimes a lie isn't a lie," she said breathily.
He couldn't resist pressing his lips to her cheek in a series of light kisses, telling himself her cheek was safe. If he could just have this little taste, he could get through the night and figure out how to lock his desires away again.
Her skin was warm and temptingly soft. She closed her eyes, barely breathing as he kissed her cheek again and again, so trusting and sweet. Her fingers pressed into his skin with every touch of his lips, fueling the battle raging in his head. Just one more. He kissed the tender dip just below her ear, and she sighed dreamily. Oh man, this is torture.
"Then what is it," he asked, "if not a lie?"
"It's a … " she whispered.
She turned her face, and their lips brushed like a breeze passing over too quickly. The tease ignited sparks beneath his skin. He ran his hand along her thigh, aching to make her his, though knowing he shouldn't even be tempting himself with the kisses he'd already taken.
"A … ?" he said as he began kissing her neck.
She arched toward him, holding his head, keeping his mouth on her neck. Oh yeah. That's it, baby. Show me you want me. He opened his mouth and sealed his teeth over her tender skin, sucking hard enough for her to gasp. He threaded his fingers into her hair, tugging her head to the side so he could take more of her. Her hand fisted in his hair, pulling hard-but not pulling away-causing a deliciously erotic sting. He needed to break their connection or he wasn't going to stop. He'd fought to remain on the right side of the invisible line between them for years, and he was messing that up. Sending her mixed messages only scratched the surface of why he should break their connection.
"It's a bad idea," she panted out.
Her words, along with the roar of a motorcycle, crashed through his reverie. He released her like he'd been burned. "Bad idea. Right. Sorry." I'm such a jerk.
"No-" She grabbed his hand, leaning closer. "This isn't a bad idea. That's what the lie is. We're not making a liar out of you. You just had a bad idea in the first place."
A series of successive taps on the window made them both jump.
"Oh, great." He rolled down his window, teeth clenched, and Violet peered in. "Hey," he ground out.
Violet's gaze sailed over Serena, and Drake fisted his hands to keep from shifting in his seat and blocking Violet's view of Serena's lust-filled eyes and tousled hair.