Page 27 of Bayside Heat
Fuck it.
She put on a pair of gold dangling earrings, a matching necklace, and a handful of bangles. Then she grabbed her keys and headed out to her car.
Chapter Six
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-fucked look, a little wild and very sexy. It cascaded over her shoulders in natural waves. And holy hell, 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. Take me in your hand…That’s it…Stroke me, baby.
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.
