It's Always Been You. Elle Wright

my home girl. We’ve never done anything remotely close to this.”

      “We can’t say that anymore,” she muttered under her breath.

      They exchanged glances before turning away. “I guess not,” he agreed.

      “I hope this doesn’t affect our friendship.”

      “It won’t.” As much as he hoped it wouldn’t, the very conversation they were having indicated that it might. Theirs was a relationship of comfort as much as it was one of respect and unconditional love, not marred by the hurt feelings and expectations that often accompany a love affair. Now, he couldn’t even make eye contact with her—a fact that didn’t go unnoticed.

      “You can’t even look at me, Drake.”

      “Neither can you,” he retorted.

      Love sighed and stood up. “Maybe I should just hop in the shower.”

      He rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe you can soak in the bathtub,” he suggested. “It’ll help with the soreness.”

      Without another word, she walked into the bathroom and closed the door. Once he heard the lock click, he fell back on the bed. As he listened to running water, he ran a hand down his face. He needed Advil and quickly.

      They’d had sex. But something didn’t seem right. What had made this time different from every other time? Why would they choose this trip to get busy? The sight of Love clutching the sheet against her breasts for dear life haunted him. She was scared and teary-eyed. He closed his eyes tightly, hoping to erase the image.

      He hoped the bath would relieve her anxieties. Deciding to take a shower himself, he slid off the bed and walked into the second bedroom. The Bellagio was Love’s favorite hotel in Vegas and she’d insisted on splurging on the suite. There was a separate living room and two bedrooms—one for each of them. His en suite had a steam shower and hers had a soaking whirlpool tub.

      He padded into the bathroom and turned on the shower. After waiting for the steam to fill the room, he stepped in. He placed a hand on the tile and let the water beat against his back, loosening his tense muscles.

      His hand massaged her back as they burrowed into the mattress. Their lips touched in the softest of kisses. She caressed his face as he suckled on her bottom lip.

      Drake shook his head as if to shoo away the vivid memories, and lost his balance. When he reached out to grab the bar, he slipped on the shower floor and landed on his ass. So much for relaxation. Taking a deep breath, he sat there and rubbed the water out of his eyes.

      He brushed his mouth against her chin and trailed his tongue to the hollow of her neck.

      He scooted back against the shower wall, letting the water drizzle over him.

      When he looked at her, he felt like he was drowning in her eyes. He felt his stomach tighten as he smoothed his hands over her thighs. She moaned and murmured her approval. He traced the band of her underwear with his thumb before he slipped a hand inside. He parted her slick folds with his finger and she purred. He thought he would explode. He loved to hear her satisfied groans. Kissing her deeply and possessively, he lowered himself on top of her.

      Drake leaned his head against the tile as more memories rushed back to him.

      Love wrapped her long legs around his waist and they linked fingers, gazing into each other’s eyes. He wanted her unlike anyone else. He wanted to claim her and make her his forever.

      “I want you,” he whispered.

      She smiled. “Have me.”

      He kissed her nose, then her chin. His mouth closed around her breast and he heard her gasp. His tongue swirled around her nipple until she dug her nails into his biceps. Releasing the nipple, he kissed his way over to the other one, taking it into his mouth and giving it the same attention. Her nails scraped against his scalp as he kissed his way down to her navel.

      Drake closed his eyes as his body reacted to the memory. His heart pumped with excitement.

      He began to enter her, and—

      “Drake!”

      He jumped and immediately registered the cold water pulsing down on him. Cursing, he stood up, pushed the shower door open, and stepped out.

      The knocking continued. “Drake! Can you hear me?”

      “What?” he yelled.

      “The concierge is here,” Lovely told him.

      Swearing, he wrapped a towel around his waist and yanked the door open, practically pulling her into the bathroom.

      She tried to regain her balance by grabbing him. Her hair was wet, her face flushed. Her hazelnut-colored skin was still moist. Grabbing her waist, he steadied her.

      When their eyes met, she pulled back. “He’s out in the sitting area,” she said, tugging on her robe.

      “Did you ask him what he wanted?” The small opening in the bathrobe gave him a glimpse of her breast and he tried not to look. Really. He didn’t want to remember taking it into his mouth. He let his eyes wander over Love’s curves. If there was a contest for best female anatomy, she’d win hands down. Her skin was flawless; her hair was like an ebony waterfall. And she was all natural—no weave, no acrylics, no color contacts and no silicone.

      “Drake, did you hear what I said?” she asked.

      “Huh?”

      “I said he asked for you,” she told him. “Said he had something to give you.”

      Adjusting his towel, he secured the knot. “Can you...?”

      “Oh.” She hurried out of the bathroom, bumping into the door on the way out.

      He slipped his sweatpants back on hurriedly. When he came out of the bathroom, Love was sitting on the bed, shoulders slouched. Grabbing a T-shirt, he pulled it on. He wondered if she’d remembered anything. His thoughts drifted to his roaming hands...her flat, quivering stomach...the sultry moans coming from her full lips. Shaking his head, he strode past her and into the living room.

      The concierge greeted him with a wide smile. “Good morning, Dr. Jackson. I trust you had a wonderful night.” He shook his hand.

      “What can I do for you?” Drake asked.

      Love appeared in the doorway. She folded her arms across her robe and leaned against the frame.

      Drake shifted his attention away from her and back to the concierge, who was eyeing Love with interest. Drake cleared his throat. “How can I help you?”

      The short man coughed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

      “You didn’t,” Drake told him.

      “I just thought you might like this,” he said, holding out a small box.

      Drake grabbed the box and examined it. “What’s this?”

      The concierge laughed. “Very funny, Dr. Jackson.” He patted him on his shoulder. “We rushed this up as soon as it was sized.”

      Opening the box, Drake gaped at the huge diamond ring. “Why did you bring me this?”

      The man shifted. “You ordered it, Dr. Jackson. Last night.”

      His headache suddenly grew worse. “I didn’t order this.”

      “You and the missus were in the hotel store and you purchased it.”

      Drake pretended he didn’t hear Love’s gasp or feel her body leaning up against his back as she gawked at the ring in his hand. “The missus? What the hell are you talking about? I’m not married.”

      “Uh, sir, you and your wife approached the front desk attendant and asked to purchase the ring from the hotel jewelry store.” The man motioned to Love. “It was around three o’clock this morning.