Page 17 of An Uphill Battle

“With you?” she asks, nuzzling into my chest. I think about it for a minute or two before answeringher.

“Yeah, withme.”

8

Azalea

“Wake up, Little Bit,”I hear Drake whisper as he lifts me from the passenger seat of his truck. The way his strong arms support me, and the feel of his hard chest under me, has my mind going a million miles aminute.

“You gonna take me to bed?” I whisper, my voice full ofwant.

“Yes, ma’am. You need a good night’ssleep.”

I trail my fingers up his neck, tangling them into the collar of his shirt. “But what if I don’t wannasleep?”

“Tough shit, Azalea. I’m not about to fuck you while you’redrunk.”

“Not drunk anymore. Not even tipsy. Swear it,” I say, sliding my tongue along the shell of hisear.

“Yeah, okay.” He snorts, like I’mlying.

“You want me to prove it to you?” I askincredulously.

“If that’s what you feel you need todo.”

I wiggle out of his hold once he crosses the threshold into his house. “No way. I’m not gonna beg you for sex, D. I’m not that hard up.” Pinning him with my glare, I wave my hand up and down my body. “You don’t want some of this? That’s fine. Get me a shirt to sleep in and your ass can take thecouch.”

“Now, hold on. Let’s slow it down. Didn’t say I didn’t wantcha. Just said I wasn’t interested if you were drunk. I’d rather shoot myself in the foot than take advantage of you, Azalea.” The icy anger flowing through my veins thaws a little at his words. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll get you that shirt you asked for, and you can go shower. I’ll whip us up a little midnight snack, and we’ll see what happens. That sound good toyou?”

I nod my head, feeling like a petulant child who’s beenscolded.

“Good. C’mon.” Drake takes my hand and leads me to his room, even though I know the way just fine on my own. I wait patiently while he grabs me one of his T-shirts and a freshtowel.

After laying them both on his bed, he presses a sweet kiss to my forehead. “Get cleaned up and come findme.”

* * *

Freshly showeredand dressed only in Drake’s shirt, I set off to find him. I step into the kitchen just as Drake is plating the bacon, along with a heaping portion of cheese eggs and toast. This man sure knows the way to my heart. Too bad it’s not my heart he’safter.

Without any preamble, I dig into the food he’s graciously prepared me. Every bite is better than the next, and I don’t hesitate to moan my approval. “Keep that up, Azalea, and I’ll give you something to moan about,” Drake says, all deep and rumbly.Guess he’s over the drunkthing.

“What was that?” I ask, hiding my smile behind mynapkin.

“You heard me. You wanna go on and make all those hot little noises? That’s fine. Just know it’ll be me causing them. Not some damn eggs andbacon.”

I place my napkin back down on the table before twirling a lock of hair around my finger. “But, D, technically thisisyou making me moan.” Locking eyes with him across the small table, I run my index finger through the bacon grease on my plate and bring it to my lips, running it slowly back and forth along my bottom lip before sucking it in to mymouth.

I don’t have the chance to drag it back out before Drake is up and in my space, yanking me up from my seat. “You want something to put in your mouth, Bit? I got something for you.” He latches his mouth to mine, drowning me in a kiss so delicious that I’m not sure where he ends and Ibegin.

Skillfully, he wraps my legs around his waist and carries me back toward his bedroom, never once removing his mouth from mine. “So, I guess you believe that I’msober?”

“Bit, after that show, I’m not sure I’dcare.”

Shifting against him so that we’re perfectly aligned in all the right spots, I remind him of his earlier words. “But I thought you’d never takeadvantage?”

“Azalea, your eyes are clear and you’re not slurring. But I’ll ask one more time, just to be safe. Are you sober, and do you want this?” He punctuates his question by pressing his hips into mine. And God bless it, with the feel of him so ready for me, I forget thequestion.

Restlessly, I circle my hips, desperate for that feeling only he can elicit, but he denies me, setting me down at the foot of his bed. “Answer me,” he gritsout.

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