50 Shades of Drake 1 and 2

50SOD II: Chapter Twenty-Two

    After breakfast, Destiny drew a bath for Aubrey. In typical Aubrey fashion, he requested for her to join him. She agreed, but ordered him to sit in front of her this time.

    He arched his brow at the order.

    "Please, Sir," she added with a sugary sweet smile.

    He did as he was told. For once.

    She admired the width of his back and traced an index finger over the intertwined tattoos across the top of it. He had portraits of his family members, Aaliyah, the trademark October's Very Own owl, another large owl's feathery wings spread across his chest, and a red robin inked across his shoulder blades. "I don't think I've ever asked you about your tattoos," she said as she drew the washcloth over the red robin.

    His muscles tensed. "No, you haven't," he confirmed.

    "I know that this one in the middle is your uncle," she said as she washed the spot on his back. She lowered the washcloth into the bathwater and brought it back up. "And the lady next to him is your grandmother, right?"

    "Correct."

    "And the cute girl next to your grandmother?"

    "My mother when she was younger," he answered, his voice low.

    Her eyes remained anchored to the red robin. She dunked the washcloth into the water and lifted it back up. "And this bird..."

    He flinched away from her hand as if she'd burned him.

    She frowned. "Are you okay?"

    "Yes."

    "I thought the bird was a dove at first," she told him, squeezing out the washcloth. "Since the majority of the people in these portraits have passed away. But...it's red. It's a robin, right?"

    One of his shoulders lifted up near his earlobe and he turned his head. "Do we have to talk about my tattoos right now?"

    Taken aback, she held the washcloth up in mid-air. I thought I was making small talk, she thought. "Umm...no, not if you don't want to."

    "I don't want to," he said in a rush, barely letting her finish her sentence.

    She blinked in shock. What just happened? She stared at the back of his head for several minutes before lowering her gaze back down to the red robin. Is that tattoo related to his ex-fiance? I feel like I should know the answer to this, from the days when I used to indulge in celebrity drama.

    "I think we're done here. We should move to the shower." He reached out and grabbed the edge of the tub and started to stand.

    "Don't you move," she told him. "Are you crazy? We just got in here."

    He was antsy. Anxious. She could see it. Those perfectly formed layers of composure were completely gone, completely peeled back. She could see the man beneath all of that. He was unraveling. Fast.

    Wanting to calm him down, she chewed on her bottom lip. "How about this...how about you lean back against me, so I can get your chest and your stomach. Okay?"

    He looked back at her. The look in his eyes...raw vulnerability.

    She searched the depths of his beautiful, dark eyes and she didn't see the head of a company worth nearly a billion dollars. She didn't see a multi-media mogul. She didn't see the man who had the potential to top the hip hop charts for more than a decade, had he stayed in the rap game. She didn't even see the man who declared himself to be her Dominant. What she did see was a lost, frightened little boy. Her brows drew together. With her eyes locked on his, she spread her thighs further apart until her knees rested on the outer edges of the bathtub. "Lean back," she coaxed him gently.