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A quick peek at the mirror beside the front door, and I take in a deep breath. My uncle’s in bed, and while I don’t want to leave without letting him know I’m going out, I don’t want to disturb him either. Instead, I scratch out a note and leave it on the door of the fridge.
Whatever happens with Drake tonight, I’ll approach it with an open mind. One-night stands aren’t my thing, but maybe it will do some good to put my ex firmly in the past.
When I step out onto the porch, Drake sits on the porch swing. His long legs rock him forward and back. He stills, and his eyes latch on to me. I shut the door quietly, taking care not to wake my uncle.
“Holy hell,” Drake says.
“What’s wrong?”
Between one breath and the next, he closes the distance and presses me against the door.
There is no preamble. No slow exhale as our lips wait to meet. Aggressive and powerful, he leans against me, the weight of his body blanketing me with his commanding presence. He wraps an arm around my waist, claiming me with his strength as his powerful lips take my mouth prisoner.
I wrap my hands around his neck and surrender to the kiss. My rational mind tells me to think this through. It’s too fast. Too soon. I need to get settled before attaching myself to a man, or worse, sleeping with a stranger.
What will the town think of their new doctor? But my heart refuses to listen and chases those thoughts aside. For now, I’m willing to live on the edge and deal with the consequences later.
He flattens his palm against the small of my back, and the kiss softens with the kneading of his fingertips against my spine.
A lick.
A nip.
A final press of his lips and he breaks off the kiss.
With his forehead pressed against mine, we share an intimate moment. His breath spills out and swirls into my lungs. His scent, a mixture of wood smoke, earth, and musk, makes my eyes close and my head tip back against the door. He follows me, pressing his forehead to mine, keeping our connection intact.
“What the hell,” he says with a weighted sigh. “Please tell me something really important came up and that’s why I didn’t see you at Shelly’s.”
My eyes drift shut. The press of his lips fade from my mouth, but the taste of him lingers, making me need more. Slowly, I open my eyes. Hardly any distance separates us, and while I can’t focus on his eyes, I don’t need to see them to feel the darkness swirling inside.
“Something came up. I’m sorry I didn’t call, but I didn’t have your number.”
“Where is it?”
“Where’s, what?”
He thrusts out his hand. “Your phone. Where is it?”
“In my purse.”
“Give it to me,” he demands.
“Why?”
“Because you need my number.”
I undo the clasp of my purse and fish out my phone. Unlocking the screen, I dutifully hand it over. With a few quick taps, he enters his number and hands the phone back.
“There, now no more excuses for not calling.”
The bossiness of his tone takes me back. Scott was nearly as pushy. It started with one demand, followed by another. When I made a mistake, his disappointment flared. Within a month of moving in together, he hit me the first time.
Drake only asks for my phone, but it makes me cautious.
I duck out from beneath him, surprising myself nearly as much as him. The sizzling energy which charges the air fizzles and dies.
“Um, maybe we should slow down a bit?”
