Rafael
When I finally broke the kiss with Drake, it was only because I badly needed two things. The first was oxygen.
The second was to get into his pants.
He was half-sitting on his motorbike, leaning back against it just enough not to risk pushing it over, bringing us mostly to the same height, and I was far from oblivious to the hard length that rested against my hip. I needed to see it, feel it, taste it. We couldn’t do that here, even if I didn’t have any bridges left to burn at the restaurant. There was a little matter of public decency, and even punch drunk on his kisses, I wasn’t going to forget about that.
“I live around the corner,” I said. “We could drive there. Or even walk.”
“You’re so committed,” he smirked. “Did you choose it because of how close it was to The Crow?”
I couldn’t think about The Crow right now. “Well?”
“Let’s do that,” Drake said.
“Which one?”
“I don’t know.” He ran a distracted hand over the top of his head, ruffling his hair. “Walk.”
“Then, come on,” I said. I grabbed him by the hand and yanked him in the right direction. It was only going to be a walk of five minutes – less if we really hustled – but I didn’t know how long Icould bear to wait. He just managed to grab his helmet from the top of his bike and then follow me, stumbling along behind for a moment until he caught his stride and walked alongside me.
“Rafael,” he said, and his voice was deep and throaty but also tinged with a little doubt.
“Don’t,” I said. I needed him not to do this. “Don’t ruin it.”
I could almost hear him biting his lip.
We rushed along the darkened streets. Apartment buildings loomed large on either side of the road we were following, directly beside us or down side streets. The air was still full of the tang of salt from the nearby ocean, and though no gulls called late at night, it was impossible to ignore the freshness in the air and the distant rush of the waves against the shore. The stars were out above us, and few cars passed by. I couldn’t say exactly that it was any different from any other night I had experienced.
Somehow, though, it was the most magical night I remembered experiencing for the whole lifetime I’d spent living in Crowhill Cove.
My apartment arrived both agonizingly slowly and quicker than I had expected, and then I was dropping Drake’s hand to fumble for my keys and open the door. Thank god I’d had the presence of mind to grab my coat on the way out, or we might have had to go all the way back. Or kick the door in. I think I would have preferred to kick the door in.
The second I had Drake inside my place, I slammed the door shut behind him and pounced.
“Woah!” Drake said, and chuckled, his hands holding me back, and for a second my heart sank with the thought that we’d left it too late. It had taken too long to walk here. He’d changed his mind. “I can’t even see anything. I’m going to trip.”
I relaxed again – it was only because he wasn’t familiar with this place. I hesitated at the thought of showing him my home, my inner sanctum, but it wasn’t, really – this was just where I slept. I reached up and flicked on the hall light, both of us wincing at the blinding brightness compared to the night outside, and then tugged him behind me down the hall to the bedroom.
There wasn’t anything else to see, anyway. I didn’t spend any time here. I’d never bothered to decorate or turn it into anything special.
And the only thing I wanted Drake to see was the bed.
I left the door ajar and only the light spilling in from the hall so that we didn’t need to turn on a bright light in here, too. For a second I briefly regretted that I hadn’t made the place more homey, because a few lamps here and there would have allowed me to set the mood much better.
But we didn’t need any mood. We had brought our own.
Drake turned and looked at me, framed by the bed behind him, the light from the hall spilling in a line down his face that illuminated just one of his golden eyes.
He stepped forward and shoved me up against the door, closing it and plunging us back into gloom again except for the glow coming in through the window from the street, his hands trapping my waist. He kissed me long and slow and deep, drawing sensations out of my core that had been coiled and dormant for a long time, his fingers squeezing onto my hips and making my breath come ragged.
His mouth fell to my chin, then my neck, and I threw my head back to moan. I linked my arms around his neck and curled one hand into his short, brown hair, letting the strands fall through my fingers as he moved. His kisses met the hem of my shirt and I stepped forward, our bodies clashing and his giving a step, justso I could yank my coat desperately off my arms and my whites over my head, letting it all drop.
Drake didn’t miss the memo; he was stripping too, tearing his clothes off as fast as he was able. My eyes were adjusting well to the light and I caught flashes of toned muscle as he discarded items, leaning to pull off his shoes and drop his pants.
I didn’t hesitate in my own undressing, even as I hungrily watched him do the same. Within moments we were both naked, standing panting facing one another. It was perfect and everything and not enough, all at once: the faint glow of the light illuminated just enough to tease, hiding the details I wanted to savor and pore over.
Drake put his hands to the sides of my face and kissed me deep and fast this time, like he couldn’t get enough, like he was dying of thirst and I was the only one that could slake it. My hands skated over his bare hips, his heated skin, up over the muscles of his abs and his chest, exploring, charting. Every touch was like a drug, only making me want more and more and more.
