Page 31 of Headed for Home

He slips from me and I hiss at the loss. There’s no time to mourn the fleeting connection, which is entirely my fault. I slide off the counter and straighten my shirt, the hem falling beyond mid-thigh.

“Looks good on you,” Drake comments.

“Hmm?” I mumble absently.

He nods to the oversized garment. “Something to snuggle when I’m not around.”

My focus narrows on what I’m wearing. How I didn’t notice this was his before is another mystery. “Damn.”

“You can say that again.” His laugh is slightly unhinged. “I can’t believe you invited someone in here after what we just did.”

“It’s only my cousin.” My hand swats at his misplaced concern. “And to be fair, I didn’t know she was coming over.”

“You could’ve told her to wait a minute.”

“That would’ve raised suspicions.”

“And this won’t?” He motions to his mostly naked form.

“I don’t see a problem.” But the fib is transparent.

My ruined underwear does little to soak up the evidence of our morning sexcapades. I cross my legs and flex every Kegel muscle possible. A hollow ache spreads to remind me of the wreckage Drake left behind. My vagina will never be the same.

He shrugs, reading my bluff like a context clue. “No? Fine. Let her get an eyeful. Didn’t take you as one to share but—”

My lips flatten and I back him against the cabinets. “Don’t move.”

“Why not? Afraid she’ll see my hot ass?”

“Yes,” I say before logic can muzzle me.

“Is my cum leaking down your inner thighs? My shirt is the only thing concealing you from view. You’re covered in me, beauty. If I thought you looked freshly fucked before…” He trails off on a chuckle, scrubbing at his stubbled jaw.

I glare at the possessive gleam in his gaze while trying to tame my hair. “Just hush over there.”

“Howdy, cowgirl. How’s it—?” Paisley jerks to a standstill at the kitchen entrance. “Oh! You have company.”

My elbow misses the counter when I try to aim for calm and collected, which only adds to my frazzled state. “Don’t mind him. He’s just… someone I used to know.”

My cousin’s eyes bulge as she gawks at Drake. “Are you—?”

“Cassidy’s sexual servant? Yes, guilty as charged. I’d shake your hand but I’m under strict orders to stay in the corner.” The incorrigible flirt winks at me.

“You’re her…?” Paisley’s gaze swings my way. “Wow.”

“He’s joking,” I blurt. “Obviously.” But the needy clench in my pussy calls me a liar.

“I see,” she drawls. “You have Drake Granger in your kitchen, wearing aVagitarianapron, claiming to be your sexual servant.”

“That about sums it up.” His smirk exposes those naughty dimples.

“Well done,” Paisley praises me before waving at the man who has officially overstayed his welcome. “We haven’t met but you don’t need a proper introduction. I’m Paisley, if you were curious. Cassidy would be horribly lonely and even more anti-social without me.”

“I’m glad she has your moral support,” Drake laughs.

“Right? I don’t think I get enough recognition for that.”

My arms slide across my chest in a feigned pose for nonchalance. “Uh-huh, thanks a lot. Both of you. Was there a reason you stopped by, Ley?”

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