Fireworks 1 and 2

Chapter Seventy-Four

    Drake rolled over in bed. His first thought was to lift his head and look at his phone. It was resting quietly on his nightstand. "Ugh." He laid his head back down. I wake up, and I immediately think about texting her, he thought. When she said she's not even ready to talk to me yet. What the fuck is wrong with me?

    He was lying on his stomach with one of his arms stretched out, covering the spot that he'd already grown accustomed to Mia sleeping in. The spot felt exactly what it was: cold and empty. He ran his hand across the designer sheets. Soft to the touch, but what did that matter without the woman he wanted right by his side?

    He rolled over onto his back and tried to shut his mind off. If she needed time to sort her thoughts out then he was going to give her that time. In order for him to give her that time and maintain his sanity, though, he was going to have to find a way to stop thinking about her. Because every time he thought about her, he wanted to have his driver chauffeur him to her hotel so he could go there, grab her, and bring her back to where she belonged: with him at YOLO Estate.

    So you have to stop thinking about her and the fact that you want to bring her back, he thought. But...that was easier said than done, because he was lying in bed. He was lying in the bed where he'd laid her down and crawled between her thighs just last week. The bed where he'd tasted her and teased her and pleased her until she was shouting his name to the ceiling - his first name, not the middle name he used for his stage name. The very same bed where he'd grabbed her by the hips, dragged her down, and slipped inside of her juiciness. Just the thought of how wet and tight she was made him hard. He fit so perfectly inside of her that it was as if her body was made specifically for him.

    If this is me not thinking about her, then I'm in trouble, he thought, resting a hand on his bare chest. It's hard not to think about her when I want her here so badly, though. He slid his hand up and down his chest. He turned his head and looked at the balcony. Even the balcony reminded him of her, now. He closed his eyes, remembering the feel of her as he'd taken her out on the balcony. With her gripping the railing and moaning loud enough for everyone in the entire household to hear. A thought like that shouldn't turn him on. But it did.

    He moved his hands down his chest, past his stomach, and below the sheets. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth while thinking about her, wrapped his hand around himself while thinking about her. He pictured her naked and on top of him, naked and in front of him, naked and under him. The visual imagery was enough to drive him crazy, more than enough. He stroked and thought about that little thing she did with her tongue when she had her lips wrapped around the length of him. The thought was enough to make him growl out loud. The thought seriously made him consider going to her hotel.

    "You like that, baby?" she'd asked him, looking up at him with those big, beautiful brown eyes.

    "I love it," he'd said, looking down at her and grabbing handfuls of her hair in his hands. "I love everything you do to me."

    He closed his eyes again, picturing her on her knees. Naked, and brown and beautiful, skin glowing. Eyes full of lust and desire for him. And there was something incredibly sexy about someone when they had that look in their eyes, when you knew that look was for you. He hated that she was staying at a hotel, but he also had to admit to himself that the look she'd had in her eyes was even sexier to him now that he knew she was willing to walk away from him.

    Being a celebrity at the level that he was at, women would often let you get away with things that they'd normally harp on an ordinary man for. Caught flirting with another girl? A lot of women were willing to let that slide. Caught screwing another girl? He'd known women who turned their head the other way, as long as they were the girl that he was out in public with. Those women had thought that he would appreciate them for that. They'd thought he would appreciate them because they were willing to turn their head the other way while he got away with all kinds of dirt. What he wished women would realize is that, letting a man get away with disloyal behavior was not a turn-on. It was something that a lot of men took advantage of without any intent in becoming serious with that woman, in most cases. Why? Because ignoring disloyal behavior wasn't wifey material behavior. Wifey material behavior was putting a man in his place. Letting him know, plainly, and in a ladylike way, that his behavior was wrong. Making it known that she wasn't going to be treated any which way.

    Sure, he'd continued to see a few of those misguided women on a casual basis. Their behavior made it nearly impossible for him to fall in love with them. Keeping them around had been safe. A nice, convenient placeholder whenever he visited X city and needed someone to keep him company.

    Then Mia comes into his life, and he no longer wants any placeholders. Mia comes into his life and he starts to doubt that any other woman could turn him on as much as she did...as much as she was right now, even though she wasn't even here.

    He hadn't brought any other women here. He was sure that Mia was probably thinking the worst, thinking that he'd invited women over as soon as Free had left the premises. That was the furthest thing from the truth. He didn't want anyone else. Some people would find that romantic, and...it was. But ultimately, for him right now when he wanted her with every fiber of his being, it was annoying. It was a problem. One of the worst feelings in the world was to want someone who didn't want you back, even if that was only temporarily the case.

    When he was finished, he let out an explosive, frustrated groan and turned his head into the pillow.

    A knock sounded at his door.

    He raised his head and looked toward the door. "Just a minute," he called, cursing under his breath. He shouldn't have been so loud. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He pulled on a pair of pajama pants and went to open his bedroom door.

    Chubbs stood on the other side of the door with one eyebrow raised.

    Drake chuckled and crossed an arm over his chest. "Those damn pushups," he muttered, trying to play off that earlier groan with the excuse of exercise.

    Chubbs narrowed his eyes. "Pushups. Right."

    "You know how I get when I get into workout mode," Drake went on, laughing nervously.

    "Something was being worked out," Chubbs said and he held up his hands with his palms facing outward. "But hey, I'm not here to judge. Whatever floats your boat, man. I'm here because someone is at the gate. Someone claiming to know Mia and Bri. Don't know if you want to let them in."

    Drake ran a hand over his head. "Let me see who it is." He followed Chubbs down the hall and downstairs to the security room. The security room was a room he was only very rarely in. His security team was efficient. They knew what they were doing.

    The security room was filled with monitors. Unbeknownst to a lot of the people who came over for his parties, Drake had cameras installed all over his estate, inside and out. It was how he'd caught strippers trying to steal shit from him in the past. It was how he helped to prevent items from being stolen from him in the present.

    Drake sniffed and leaned over the console to peer at the monitor covering the outside front gate. He was staring at a young, bi-racial man seated in a nice car rental. Drake pressed a button on the console. "Who are you?" he asked the visitor.

    "My name's Shawn," the young man replied. "I'm looking for Bri."

    Shawn, Shawn, Shawn...is that the annoying kid who was always calling Bri's phone? Drake wondered. He moved his hand and pressed the control that opened the gates. He would soon find out the answer to that question