Page 21
Taylor
Drake pulled out all the stops for our first date.
We’re sitting courtside, a few chairs over from the Sixers bench at the Wells Fargo Center.
My mouth hangs open as the shooting guard dribbles the ball down the court only a few feet away from me.
This moment is so surreal I keep pinching myself to make sure I haven’t imagined the entire night.
The Sixers are playing the Los Angeles Lakers, my home team.
Well, with how much I’ve moved, it’s hard to choose one team.
But for the last six years, my family has lived in Los Angeles County, so I guess that makes us Lakers fans now.
And it doesn’t hurt that my best friend shares the same last name as one of the greatest Lakers of all-time.
An electric pulse hangs in the air, the screaming fans around us bringing the event center to life with their cheers. I love basketball. Every time I step onto the court, I get a rush like no other. The only thing that even closely compares is how I feel when I’m with Drake.
I cup his knee with my hand, and it looks so small in comparison. He catches me stealing a peek at his handsome face. The corner of his mouth turns up into a wicked smirk. With the pad of his thumb, he strokes the top of my hand, his skin so rough and calloused it feels good against mine.
“How do you like our seats?” Drake asks.
“Are you kidding? This is the best date ever, Drake.” I squeeze his knee and smile. “I love it. We’re so close I can see the sweat dripping off the players. I mean… I can’t believe you did all of this for me.”
“I would do anything for you,” he counters, his gaze so intense and hard it sends a shiver down my spine.
“Walk through fire?” I joke.
He laughs. “Anything.”
I never said I loved him back. And I wish I had because I love him so much it physically hurts sometimes. When I think about my life without him in it, I can’t breathe.
“I hope you got a good deal on these seats,” I mutter, eyes fixed on the court.
“I got the family discount,” he replies with laughter in his voice.
“Do you get to come to games all the time because of your uncles?”
“Yeah, pretty much. If the seats are open and they haven’t sold them, I can usually get them either free or for next to nothing.
” He covers my hand on his knee and drags his long fingers along my skin.
“These seats, in particular, belong to my Uncle Alex. Preston’s mom couldn’t make it tonight, so they had to bail on the game. She’s a diehard basketball fan.”
“Yeah, I know who she is. Bex obsesses over Coach. She wants to be like her when she grows up.”
He chuckles. “My Aunt Charlotte is probably one of the coolest women alive.”
“I don’t disagree. I’d love to meet her sometime.”
“Speaking of meeting my family.” He chews on his bottom lip. “My parents and sister want to meet you. I told my mom and Chloe that you read their books. They want me to bring you by the house, you know, if you want to. No pressure or anything.”
“They’re important to you, and you’re important to me. I’d love to meet them.”
“They’re supposed to come to my game next weekend. It’s in Boston. I know it’s a hike, but maybe you and Bex can sit with them instead of hiding all by yourselves.”
I snort, smacking him lightly on his arm. “We don’t hide at your games. Bex just likes to sit in a particular spot along the ice. Nothing wrong with that.”
“There’s no surprise why Preston likes her.”
I raise my eyebrow in curiosity. “Oh, and why is that?”
He flashes one of his boyish smirks that do unspeakable things to me. “Because he’s a pain in the ass, too.”
“So are you,” I challenge.
He hooks his arm around my back and hugs me against his muscular chest. It’s like having Bruce Banner wrap his arms around you when he’s in Hulk form.
Drake is a wall of man, all hard lines and smooth ridges that weaken me every time.
This simple touch causes my entire body to tremble.
My nipples are like glass poking through my Lakers jersey.
Drake smacks a kiss on top of my head, easing up his grip on me so I can relax my back against the chair. Then, he tugs at my jersey and whispers into my ear, “I wish this was my jersey you were wearing… and nothing else.”
I smile so hard my cheeks hurt. “How about I try yours on after the game?”
As the buzzer sounds to signify the end of the fourth quarter, Drake gives me a wicked grin that makes my core clench.
Standing in the middle of Drake’s bedroom, I watch as his eyes travel over my bare thighs.
Dressed in his jersey that falls down to my knees, and nothing else, I tug at the seam to slide it up my legs.
The navy and white fabric scratch my peaked nipples.
It’s not as comfortable as a basketball jersey, though after tonight, I don’t want to wear anyone’s number on my back other than his.
“How do I look?” My voice is low and sensual.
“Perfect.” He licks his lips, leaning his head against his headboard, his long legs stretched out on the bed. His hand moves to his crotch, and he cups his massive erection. “Now, take it off for me. I’d rather see my jersey on my floor… and you naked.”
Taking my time, I sway my hips to a silent beat and stroll over to the bed, slowly inching the fabric up my stomach and finally over my head. I drop it on the floor behind me, my body on display for Drake.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Drake hisses.
His eyes rake over every inch of my body, and if it were anyone else, I would feel self-conscious. But since it’s Drake, my breathing is even, there’s not an ounce of hesitation or nervousness flowing through me. He gets on his knees and crawls to the edge of the bed, reaching out to touch me.
I step forward and gasp when his hand contacts my stomach. His warmth leeches into my skin, producing an overwhelming sensation that goes straight to my pussy. An electric pulse hums between us, the air so thick with sexual tension and desire I can hardly breathe.
“Drake,” I whisper as his hand dips between my legs.
He slides his finger along my slit, teasing me as he stares into my eyes and makes slow, deliberate movements.
“Mmm…” I can’t even get out the words when his long finger slides inside me.
It doesn’t take much to fill me up. My tightness compared to his big fingers easily takes me to the edge.
He’s still dressed in the Sixers jersey and jeans he wore to the game.
So, I lift the shirt up his rock- hard stomach and push it over his head.
Next is the white tee he has on underneath.
Once I have him shirtless, I run my hand over his sculpted abs.
The combination of his fingers sliding in and out of me paired with the desire written all over his face takes me one step closer to finding my release.
“I’m ready,” I whimper, the words coming out in ragged breaths. A brush of heat washes over my body in waves.
“For what?” he asks as I hit the peak of my climax, clamping down hard on his fingers as I come.
I cup his shoulders with my hands, a little off balance from the sheer force of my orgasm.
Climbing onto his lap, I straddle his muscular thighs and whisper against his lips, “I want you to be my first.” I stare into his perfect blue eyes and finish, “I didn’t tell you how I felt the other day. I love you, Drake. I told you I wanted to wait to have sex with someone I love, and it’s you.”
His big hand palms the back of my head. “I love you, too, Taylor.” A shiver runs down my arms from his breath on my lips. “Are you sure? We can wait if you’re not?—”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “But take it slow at first. Okay?”
He flips me onto my back so fast I don’t even have time to realize what’s happening. “I promise.” His hand grazes my cheek, his fingers so long and rough against my skin. Sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, he rocks his hips into mine.
When I reach between us to fumble with the button of his jeans, he slides off the bed, quickly disposing of his pants and boxers. His cock is so long and hard I panic when I think of taking all of him.
He climbs onto the bed and resumes his place between my spread thighs.
“Drake,” I say as he bends down to kiss my neck, planting soft pecks down to my collarbone. He peeks up at me, waiting for me to speak. “I’m on the pill. So, you know, you don’t have to use anything.”
We’re both virgins, and I’ve been on the pill since I was fifteen to regulate my period. It’s not like he can knock me up.
He nods, but there’s a bit of apprehension in his eyes. I wonder if he’s nervous and hiding it well. While I might be ready, I’m still terrified of his enormous cock. I mean, seriously, will it even fit? I guess there’s only one way to find out.
Drake kisses his way down to my chest, his hand engulfing my left breast as he takes my right nipple into his mouth and sucks on it. His teeth tease the tiny bud, the pad of his thumb rolling over the other. I’m putty in Drake’s very skilled hands, practically squirming beneath him.
His mouth closes over my other nipple. He sucks so hard this time it rips a moan from my lips.
After he gives each breast careful attention, he inches his way down my stomach, dragging his tongue along my hot flesh.
His movements are so slow and deliberate, I wonder if he’s purposely taking his time or trying to drive me to the brink of madness.
Gripping my ass cheeks with his hands, he rolls his tongue over my clit. The warmth from his tongue combined with his breath on my pussy sends a ripple of pleasure from head to toe.
Threading my fingers through his hair, I maintain a good grip, keeping him right where I want him.
Drake’s tongue slips between my slick folds.
He laps up my juices like he needs another taste to survive, each kiss of my pussy driving me insane.
If he’s as skilled with his dick as he is with his fingers and tongue, he may very well kill me.