Drake pocketed his phone. His brow pulled together, deep in thought.

He didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t control the situation. It wasn’t that he wanted Bethany to remain the way he remembered her either because he liked the change. Loved her sass. Shy Bee. Sultry Bethany. She was hotter than fire in her burlesque get up. Her legs were shapely, long and he wanted to feel them around his waist while he thrust into her.

She wouldn’t have traded sassy comments with him had she remained who she was. The shy girl who had to stand tall despite the taunts that at times she had been afraid of her own shadow. The new Bethany was hiding something in those beautiful, now-haunted blue eyes. She had lost something so inherent in her, replacing it with skepticism, disenchantment, mistrust.

He’d done that to her.

Drake looked around. In the old house the spare key was kept under one of the potted plants by the entrance. There were no potted plants now save for the vase. Drake knelt, his fingers groping around the cold concrete until he felt the key’s cold metal. He scowled. Of all the things that didn’t change about Bethany, it just had to be tempting a home invasion. He was going to have a word with her, even if he had to spank some sense into her. Just the sight of her ass turning pink…By the time they were ready to return to the hospital, he might just be strutting like a gunslinger in some western with his aching balls.

He let himself into the narrow foyer before closing the door. Pegs lined the wall to his right. An umbrella stand was flushed against the corner. The stairs to the upper floor teased him like the stairway to heaven.

But he had to make a million and one penances before he deserved to step on to the first rung. There were small framed pictures of a young girl in different ages. She had the same blond hair as Bethany and in all the photos, she was smiling.

Drake’s chest constricted.

Bethany’s daughter.

He looked away, pain and jealousy filling his head and whipping his soul. He could her given her that, could have given her a child. But would they have been able to make it work?

He inhaled. Lavender. There it was in a vase on top of the credenza by the wall. He looked around the cozy lounge and dining area of Greek blues and whites, moving away from the tempting staircase to the sliding door leading to the garden that was kept trimmed and simple. Off to his right was the kitchen.

He clenched his jaw when the faint scent of Bethany’s shower reached him. The sounds of her getting ready gunned his imagination to overdrive—the whisper of a towel falling from a body he longed to take to the tendrils of wet hair he’d hold on to while he watched his cock go in and out of her from behind. Overhead, the floor creaked under the weight of her feet. The muffled hum of the hair dryer turning her damp hair to a silky black curtain made Drake curl his hands into fists.

He should have stayed by the car.

“Make yourself at home,” she called from above. “Mum baked some biscuits. It’s in the tin on the kitchen counter.”

Drake’s lips quirked to one side as warmth seeped into the cold places of his heart. Cora’s biscuits had been something Drake had looked forward to after walking Bethany home from school. They made him feel at home more than in his own house. Joe Brook only nudged his head whenever Drake was around and faintly disguised his displeasure that he had an extra mouth to feed. So Drake only got one helping of food even though he could have eaten more than half of what was served at the table.

After supper, he’d wait for Bethany on the roof of her house and while they talked, he’d eat the extra food Bethany brought up for him. Whether her father knew or not he didn’t say, but Drake was grateful for the kindness they extended.

Kindness begot kindness. Drake knew Joseph wasn’t in the best of health. To show his gratitude, he helped mow the lawn, wash the dishes, or any other chore that needed doing.

He sauntered to the kitchen and opened the floral decorated tin before helping himself to coffee, opening the upper cupboards to find a mug. He bit into the chewy concoction that brought back some of the happy memories he had as a teen.

By the time Bethany appeared, he had eaten four cookies and was about to drink the last dregs of his coffee. His brows rose in appreciation at the way her dark brown roll neck jumper hugged her body like second skin, clinging to the beautiful shape of her breasts and tucked into the slim waistband of her black jeans. She topped her get up with knee high brown suede boots. She was one delectable package that his cock wanted to tap.

“Perfect.” He nearly growled.

Bethany gave an indelicate snort. “Stop it.”

His brow rose. “Why? You’ve always been pretty, Bee. Now you’re sexy. I knew it back then you’d be breaking a lot of men’s hearts. I wasn’t wrong. Why can’t I say it now?”

Bethany froze midway shrugging into her dark brown leather jacket. She paled. Her eyes flickered in…panic?

“Bethany.” He placed his mug down and strode to her. “What’s wrong?” He touched her arm and she stepped back as though she had been burned. He let go. He felt his brows pull together in confusion. “What the hell, Bee?”

“It’s nothing.” Her shaky laugh was fake, if he ever heard one. “We better go.”

 “Bethany, talk to me.” Drake didn’t want to scare her even more. Just the thought that something or someone might have hurt her before made his blood boil. He stopped short.

You hurt her when you left.

He watched her, saw emotions flicker through her expressive eyes. Saw the determination in the firm set of her jaw as she battled the demons that escaped her stronghold, and saw her succeed in the blank expression of her face.

And all he wanted to do was to hold her and remove whatever haunted her.

Her arms moved once more, straightening the leather material over her shoulders and giving it a jerk downward.

“We better go.” She repeated not waiting for him to follow.

He stood his ground, arms folded over his chest. “We don’t have to.”

She whirled at him. “Excuse me?”

“Your mum said and I quote, ‘Take your time. I’ll be fine with Joe here.’”

She bristled and he mentally dared her to let her retort fly out of her beautiful mouth.

He exhaled before sitting down on one of the armchairs and rested his ankle on his knee. Her eyes flashed before they shuttered whatever she was feeling.

“Go on.”

“Go on what?”

“Let it out. That’s what you want to do, right?”

Exasperation flitted through her face.

“I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Such as?”

Her eyes turned to the teal colour of stormy skies. Her anger was the colour of dark pink flowers the rain pelted on the ground.

And she was beautiful.

“Things you don’t need to know. You don’t know me anymore, Drake. Why can’t you just let it go?” Her chest moved slowly mesmerizing him. Her nipples poked against the fabric. Fuck, her tits were playing peek-a-boo with him.

Drake dragged his eyes up unable to stop his imagination from rioting, giving him ideas of what he wanted to do with her breasts. He knew he was egging her on but he couldn’t help it. He liked this new fiery, hot, and sexy Bethany. He liked that she was fighting back.

Good girl.

Shadows of her secrets broke through the storm in her eyes. Drake wanted in. Dammit, he wanted in. Maybe he’d find the reasons why she disappeared and allow him to do his penance on her body.

“It will never be enough, Bethany,” he said, his tone lost its teasing giving way to seriousness. “With you it will never be enough until you realise that I’m back.

 

* * *

 

Her pulse ricocheted against every pulse point. Her heartbeat was as loud as the planes that flew overhead from the nearby airport. She didn’t like the possessiveness in Drake’s tone. No one was going to possess her, own her until she had no identity left. She was nobody’s property. She was stronger now and no longer the naïve girl who fell for sweet promises and bold assurances only to be left lying on the ground beaten and picking up the shards of glass that made blood soaked ribbons out of her self-respect.

But God, the shiver that tingled down her spine was as delicious as if Drake had poured honey down her back and lapped it with his tongue.

Bethany blew out the sigh she didn’t realise she’d been holding, the carbon dioxide making her lightheaded. She moved away.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To the hospital.”

Bethany didn’t see him stand as much as feel the heat coming from him warming her back. He was closer than she wanted him to be—to protect her sanity. Drake Rosen was a bane to her sanity. His mere presence teased and stoked her imagination. Her dreams were filled with warmth and laughter of his eyes. She also dreamt of his gaze burning her, watching her every release. The walls were made of his strong arms around her keeping her away from the ugly taunting she had had to contend with. Of his lips on hers that melted what was left of her anxieties.

And she wanted to run away from what she was desperate to have.

“Bethany, goddammit!” Drake gripped her arm to turn her around.

She expected to feel revulsion at the way Drake held her, expected to see the face of her nightmares. But all she saw was Drake. All her body felt was Drake’s touch.

No one else’s.

Her breath caught in her throat and her skin sizzled with need despite the extra layer of her jacket that had become a conduit for more of the heat coming from Drake’s hand. His nearness, his scent, his warmth made her pliant with desire. Anticipation buzzed in her ears adding to the need throbbing in the apex of her thighs. Back when they were teenagers, she had enjoyed Drake’s touch because he made her feel safe. This time his touch was so deliciously hazardous and destructive that burning for him would be her undoing.

It made her want it even more.

“What gives, Bee?”

“Stop ˗˗˗”

“Stop what? Calling you the name I used to?” His arms caged her against the wall. “Well sorry, sweetheart. I don’t fucking care. That’s my name for you. It comes from my heart, through my throat and out of my mouth.”

Bethany glared at him. Some glare when she couldn’t even think, let alone order her eyes to throw daggers at him. Drake’s eyes skimmed her face in confusion. Then they cleared and the crinkles at the sides of his eyes deepened. He grinned.

Bethany’s eyes narrowed. She knew that look. He was up to something.

“Drake,” she said in warning.

“Here’s what we’ll do.” His voice was so deceptively soft that her gaze fell on his lips. Her mouth watered just imagining his taste.

At the last minute she looked away too afraid to be sucked in and be hurt again.

“Bee?”

She inhaled deeply as his breath and his scent mixed with his cologne of clean man and the promise of dirty sex hovered over her skin. She couldn’t stop herself from leaning toward him, from wanting more of him.

She had to stop this, had to stop her downward spiral to sweet oblivion. All sense of responsibility vanished and thoughts of her bed, the couch, or the breakfast counter with Drake balls deep inside her replaced them.

Shit, the wall behind her would do.

Drake’s eyes flashed with hunger, the pupils dilating, reflecting her desire in them. He leaned closer, his mouth mere inches from hers. Her throat thickened, her body hummed.

“C’mon sweet Bee. Talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Your answer.”

“My answer to what?”

His chuckle rumbled up his chest and against her breasts. Her nipples hardened.

“Didn’t you hear my question?”

She snorted. “You do remember I’m partially deaf.”

The teasing light in his eyes flickered before humour filled them.

Damn, he remembered and that made her giddy. Throwing her impairment at him when she didn’t want to listen had always been a ruse between them.

“Don’t you want me to call you Bee?”

“No.”

Drake’s nose flared when he exhaled stirring the nerve endings of her skin. His entire body was now flushed against hers and there was no mistaking his half aroused dick teasing her belly. Stoking her need. She inhaled sharply when his arms cornered her against the wall.

“Good.”

“Good?” She couldn’t think when Drake’s mouth was so close. Her mind had slowed to a crawl.

“Yeah, ‘cause the only way you will stop me from calling you the way I want to call you is if you take it from my mouth and make it yours.”

Bethany’s gaze flew to his. Her brows drew together like a drawbridge going down.

Take it from his mouth my ass.

Drake was daring her, pushing the buttons he didn’t know no longer existed. She used to shy away from his teasing.

Not anymore.

Drake brushed his jaw against his cheek. Bethany’s eyes closed at the sensual caress and sighed when Drake’s lips skimmed her ear before dipping against her covered throat. Dammit, why did she have to use a bloody turtleneck? Her body screamed, wanting Drake’s lips against the skin.

Bethany’s breathing laboured, her mind filled with tantalizing possibilities. Her body had betrayed her long before they were placed in this situation—bodies flushed, breaths joining, and temperatures rising from steamy touching to fuck-me-so-hard-I-can’t-leave-the-bed level.

Drake leaned back slowly. His gaze dipped down to her lips before his tongue swiped against his bottom lip, tantalizing her to take a taste.

Warning bells inside her head joined her thundering heartbeat cautioning her. If she stepped over the line she could lose everything with just a kiss that had become the crux of her fantasies, her wishes, her dreams.

Her heartache.

Temptation was a damn good diplomat. That’s why so many fell and if she wasn’t careful, she’d join those who went about just existing, not living. Conscience was supposed to stay with her. Where the hell was it now?

That was her only thought as she allowed herself to drown in Drake. To get lost in him and never get out.

Bethany’s mouth curved to a seductive smile. Drake’s brow arched, desire blatant in his eyes. She parted her lips. His smirk lowered and a slow hiss passed through his lips when she twisted her hips slowly from side to side, rubbing his semi-erect dick to hardness while her hands crept up his hard chest and around the back of his neck. Drake held her waist to stop her.

“We won’t be able to leave for the hospital if you keep doing that.” His voice rumbled.

She didn’t answer. In her three inch heeled boots, she was still nine inches short to Drake’s six foot tall frame. Bethany closed her eyes for the moment Drake angled his head. She brushed her lips against his. That simple and not even close to intimate touch still lit a fire, igniting her being.

“You win,” she said, her voice as pliable as her body began to melt in Drake’s arms. “I’ll take my name from your mouth so you’ll stop.”

Her heart pounded against her rib cage. There was no doubt in her mind that Drake felt it, heard what she dreamt of all the years they were apart. That was until the rose colored panes covering her eyes shed its tint and Bethany saw how cruel the world could be.

Angling her head in the opposite direction, she continued rubbing her lips against his, flicks of lust falling from her belly to tease her clit like the softest touch of his finger sliding inside her cleft. Drake’s tongue seared the seam of her lips. She inhaled his breath, the cookies and coffee, the sweet and the dark, tasting it as it went down her throat. She swallowed to keep them inside her.

The only thing she vowed she’d allow from the man in front of her. Which was actually going nowhere when his touch was turning her brain to mush. But she had to hold on to something. Yeah right, who was she kidding? The minute she allowed Drake to touch her, she was on the highway to heartbreak.

Bethany stopped Drake from going in, pushing away gently. Her lips curved to one side at the bemusement on his face.

“Let’s go.”