Sweet Heat at Bayside(15)

Suddenly Emery grabbed Serena's hand, jerking her out of her sensual taunt.

Emery's eyes widened as she stared at Serena's new bracelet. "What is this amazing thing? Where'd you get it?"

"It's a going-away present from Drake." Serena's pulse spiked again, and  she stole a glance at Drake, who was still practically drooling over  her.

"He gave you a slave bracelet?" Violet asked with more than a hint of shock. "I did not expect that kind of frickery. Wow."

"What's a slave bracelet?" Desiree asked. "That sounds really offensive, Violet. You shouldn't say that in public."

Violet stopped dancing and gave her sister a deadpan look. "Not that  kind of slave, Desiree. It indicates a love slave. They relinquish all  rights to their master."

"Who would do that?" Desiree gasped, looking at Serena with troubled eyes.

"What? No! What are you … ? He isn't … Ohmygosh." She stormed off the dance  floor and headed for the table. The girls followed like she was the pied  piper. She stopped, and they collided into her. She turned around as  they frantically apologized all at once.

"Please don't say anything, okay?" she pleaded. "I don't need everyone  thinking this about me. Us. There is no us!" And if he is into slaves,  there is definitely no us.

"We won't," Desiree promised.

"Promise," Harper said.

Chloe laughed. "My lips are sealed, but I totally want to know!"

"I don't," Mira said.

Serena needed a drink. Or three. She glared at Violet and Emery.

"Fine. You guys are so weird." Violet went back to the dance floor.

"Okay, but you have to tell us what he says when we're not around the guys," Emery urged. Then she joined Violet.

Serena thought she was nervous before, but every step closer to the  table made her heart race faster. The girls took their seats, chatting  with Rick and Dean and stealing glances at her. Her thoughts fragmented  as Drake rose to his feet in all his rugged glory-and she pictured him  with a whip, wearing leather shorts and a collar.

Shootshootshoot.

"Take my seat, Supergirl," he said. "I got you another drink."

She sank down to his chair.

He pushed a glass in front of her and leaned in close, bringing his  mouth beside her ear. His chest pressed deliciously against her side as  he said, "It was torture watching you dance and not being out there with  you."         

     



 

"What do you want to do? Handcuff me to your wrist?" she snapped in a hushed whisper.

He chuckled against her cheek, and despite her irritation, her entire  body heated and tingled in anticipation of his lips on her again.

"Is that what you want?" he asked in a low voice.

"No!" She put her hand up, shielding her mouth as she spoke harshly into his ear. "I can't believe you got me a slave bracelet!"

"What?" he said angrily. "I didn't."

She held up her arm and twisted her hand from side to side, showing him the bracelet. "Violet said it's a slave bracelet."

"She's wrong," he said vehemently, putting his mouth beside her ear  again. "I'd never want you for my slave. I'm not into that." The  distaste in his voice conveyed his honesty.

"Then why did you get me a slave bracelet?"

"I got you a bracelet I liked, something edgy and different, like you," he said.

She pressed her lips together, wishing she'd asked Violet if they sold  them in places other than kinky sex stores. "Where'd you get it?"

"From a custom-jeweler friend of mine, Sterling. We designed it together  two months ago. He's in P-town with his brothers for the weekend. He  called the office today. You've talked to him several times. Why?"

Oh boy. Now she felt like an idiot. "I'm sorry." She reached for her drink, and he covered her hand with his, stopping her.

"Before you get blitzed, tell me what's going on." His serious expression rattled her. "Don't you trust me?"

"Yes" came easily, honestly, and with a gust of relief. Luckily, the  girls were busy chatting and not hanging on her every word. "Tonight  threw me off or something. When Violet said that, it made me think I  didn't really know you." She leaned closer and lowered her voice to a  whisper. "Are you into that stuff? Slaves and submissives?"

He put an arm around her and pulled her closer. "I'm into you, Serena.  That's who I am. Do I enjoy a little kink? Sometimes, sure, if my  partner is into it, but I'm not into slaves and submissives."

She skipped right over his admission about being into her, because they  both knew this thing between them was like a simmering pot ready to  explode. "Kink," she repeated. Her mind zoomed through all the kinky  things she could think of. What if her definition of kink was different  from his? She shielded her mouth again and whispered, "What do you  consider kink?"

He gave her a get serious look and said, "We are not talking about this here."

"Do you make women call you Daddy?" she whispered, now more curious than ever about what he was into.

"Don't be sick," he said with a laugh. "I told you we aren't talking about this."

"Oh, yes, we are. I'm leaving tomorrow, and I want to know."

He hauled her closer. She was practically sitting on his lap. He'd never  been a close talker, and now it seemed that was the only way he wanted  to communicate with her. "I'm not going to educate you in kink the night  before you leave town."

The way he said educate you, in a lower and more serious tone, made her  stomach dip. She loved his reaction so much, she decided to push him  even further. She grabbed her purse and dug out her phone. "Fine. Maybe I  can find some explanatory pictures of guys doing kinky th-"

He snagged her phone, scowling at her. "Enough."

"If you won't educate me … " She glanced around the bar and spotted  Harper's brothers. Colton owned the bar and was gay, and Brock owned a  gym in Eastham and was straight as an arrow, making him the perfect  weapon to stir Drake's jealousy. "I bet Brock will."

She pushed to her feet, and Drake grabbed her hand, stopping her in her  tracks. Her nerves flared. She felt like she was standing on the edge of  a volcano, taunting an eruption by egging him on, but heaven help her,  she wanted to jump in feet-first.

He rose slowly and purposefully beside her, his steady gaze rooting her in place.

"Where are you going?" Chloe asked.

"To dance," Drake said, putting his other hand on her lower back so possessively he could have branded her bare skin.





Chapter Seven




DRAKE CONSIDERED HIMSELF a master of self-control, but Serena was  chipping away at it minute by minute. He'd believed he had conquered his  desire for her, shelved it out of reach to be fantasized about but  never realized. But as they weaved through the crowded dance floor, his  sassy, sexy girl clinging to him, colorful lights raining down on  bumping and grinding bodies all around them, the scent of lust  thickening the air, he struggled with his resolve.         

     



 

Out of eyeshot from their friends, he took Serena in his arms, crushing  her softness against his hard frame. His hands splayed across her back,  moving down her hips, demanding and possessive, like she was already  his. Carnal desires flooded him, and he struggled to remember why he'd  fought them for so long.

She gazed up at him with a challenge in her gorgeous eyes, rocking  seductively against him. There was no beginning or end to what she did  to him. Seeing her, laughing with her, wanting her was a continual  stream of goodness culminating in an ocean of emotions.

They danced to their own private beat, slow and sensual, then fast and  dirty. His hands moved greedily over her hot flesh. He spoke directly  into her ear. "Touch me."

He put enough space between them to give her hands room to roam, and  roam they did, moving hot and hungrily over his chest, ribs, and oh  yeah, baby, up his face. Her delicate fingers played over his scruff,  then down his neck. She closed her eyes, and her lips glistened  enticingly as she moved to the beat, exploring his body, getting lost in  him.

"Eyes on me, Supergirl."

Her eyes opened, needy and hauntingly sexy. Tangled between their  scorching chemistry and unrelenting desire was a whispered warning,  telling him to back off. He was going to upend her life if he continued  on this runaway train. Their bodies connected from thighs to chest,  brushing, pressing and rocking, turning him on beyond belief. She was  panting with desire. He lowered his mouth to her neck, breathing in her  intoxicating scent. Her fingers curled into the backs of his arms. He  didn't kiss her neck, didn't touch her skin with his mouth. His lips  hovered over the curve where her neck met her shoulder, breathing warmth  there. She went up on her toes to reach his mouth, but he kept a sliver  of space between them, enjoying her clawing and arching, her need for  more. The song "Strip That Down" by Liam Payne came on, and he pulsed  his hips to the sexy beat. His hands slid down, holding her tight.