Gone with the Wolf

chapter Fifteen


“Tell me again what this proves?” Drake stood at the end of his pier that jutted into Lake Washington, and peered into the dark water.

“It proves that you’re a man of your word. You lost that game fair and square.”

Kneeling on the slated wood, Drake untied his shoes, slipped them off, then pushed them aside. “You could’ve mentioned that you were a ringer.”

Emelia laughed. “You could’ve asked.”

“I think you cheated.” Moving as slow as molasses, Drake took off his coat, folded it, and draped it over his shoes. “Nobody gets three bull’s-eyes from their first three shots.”

“Nobody but a woman who has played in dart tournaments since she was sixteen.” Emelia looked back down the long stretch of pier to where Drake’s mansion perched on the raised bank, its warm lights beckoning them in from the cold. His home looked different than it did the night of the Halloween party. It looked warm. Homey and inviting. She wished she’d grabbed a blanket before heading down to the lake. Her raincoat and jeans did little to block the wind. “Come on, fishy-fishy, get swimming. It’s freezing out here.”

“My coat’s right there. If you’re cold, put it on.” He stripped out of his shirt, robbing the breath from Emelia’s lungs. The bright light of the nearly full moon gave Drake’s chiseled body a glow that rivaled bronze statues. His muscles twitched and flexed as he unzipped his pants and yanked them down, then stepped out of them. “This is madness. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“It’ll be over before you know it.” Emelia brushed her hands over her arms and jumped up and down for warmth. “You can’t think, you’ve just gotta jump.”

Thunder rumbled overhead as drizzles of rain seeped from the night sky.

“Oh, sure, add some rain to the mix.” Drake stepped out of his underwear and chucked them onto his pile of clothes, then stood at the end of the pier, hesitating. “You and Mother Nature must be in cahoots.”

Emelia would’ve laughed at how big of a chicken Drake was being, but she couldn’t clamp her mouth shut. His shoulders were wet, dripping with rain. Shadows played over his body, accenting the hard lines of his back, his rear. He was the most gorgeous guy she’d ever seen, a man who radiated power and dominance…yet he was scared of a little rain and a lot of water. He curled his toes over the edge of the pier and peered into the lake.

“Go,” she whispered, losing her voice. Oh, how she wanted to sneak up behind him and rub her hands over the slick, pulsing muscles on his back. Okay, okay, so she wanted to shove him in. “Go!”

As lightning split the sky, Drake blew out a few quick breaths of air and jumped. He landed in the water with a giant splash and disappeared into the lake’s murk.

Surprised he actually did it, Emelia ran to the edge. Drake popped out of the water like a rocket, his eyes as wide and bright as silver dollars. “It’s f*cking cold!”

“It’s November! Of course it’s cold!”

“Ah shit, it’s cold, it’s cold, it’s f*cking cold!” He swam frantically for the ladder, his arms and legs flailing like he couldn’t gain control of them.

She’d never seen his wall of composure crumble like this. It tickled Emelia down to her toes. She laughed, then felt bad, and met him at the ladder.

“Here, give me a hand,” Drake said, stopping at the bottom. “Some of these steps are broken.”

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” She teased, extending her hand.

Drake snatched her arm and yanked her into the water behind him, then toppled over with her. Emelia screamed as the water cocooned around her, sucking the air from her lungs. The frigid water burned on contact, prickling her skin with thousands of needles. Drake’s legs tangled in hers, his arms lifted her up, and moments later they both emerged from the water gasping for air.

“You sucker!” she screamed, splashing Drake. “The water’s freezing!”

He laughed. Really laughed. Then splashed her back.

Every muscle in Emelia’s body went numb as something in her middle came to life. She buzzed with excitement and her heart swelled as she cowered from Drake’s splashing assault. She swam away and kicked hard, drenching him with the force of her flapping feet. For the first time, Drake wasn’t a shrewd businessman, her boss, or even a werewolf. She wasn’t a bartender, or a secretary. Drake was her equal. A man who made her feel like no other could. Emelia was freezing, her extremities going numb, her mind screaming at her to get out of the water as fast as she could. But there was nowhere else she wanted to be.

Drake swam toward the ladder and tugged Emelia along. She laughed between gasping breaths and didn’t miss each opportunity to splash Drake in the back.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he said, holding on to the side of the ladder. Rain fell on his lashes, drenching his face. “You first.”

Emelia took the first submerged step, felt Drake’s leg brush hers, then stopped when an electric current surged between them.

“What are you waiting for?” he said, as rain fell harder, dimpling the water around them.

As Emelia’s heart leaped, she said, “This,” and pressed forward, catching his mouth. His lips were slippery and soft, sliding against hers in an erotic dance that she didn’t want to end. His tongue caressed hers with dizzying skill, reminding Emelia of Drake’s unmatched talent in the bedroom. He moaned into her, sliding his arms around her waist as if her figure had been molded to fit perfectly into his embrace. With a firm hand against Emelia’s hip, Drake guided her to the stairs, so that her back was flush against them. He pinned her there, wedging his thigh between her legs, and continued his possession of her body. She gasped for air, clutched at his back, and ached to taste more of his lips.

He dove down to her neck, smudging deliciously wet kisses along her collarbone, and back up to her chin. She quivered as his tongue shot out, tracing the tiny, circular indentation at the base of her neck. She lost her breath when his kisses turned to gentle sucks. And as Drake found her breasts beneath the water and massaged them in his strong hands, Emelia couldn’t help but lay her head back and let the sensations flood her.

Between the frigid water lapping around them, the heat of Drake’s mouth on her skin, and the warm rain falling on her face, Emelia could’ve exploded from sensory overload. His touch was electric, lighting her skin on fire. Her body responded instinctively by arching into him, begging to give him what he wanted. Despite the temperature of the water, she was warm with Drake’s body crushing hers.

“You were right,” Drake said, then continued to devour her mouth.

Emelia gasped for air, relishing the roughness of his hands as they raked over her body. “About what?”

“Everything,” he said. Rain slid between their mouths, but couldn’t quench Emelia’s burning desire for Drake’s body to cover hers. “If this is what I get for feeling instead of thinking, I think I should try it more often. Minus the midnight swim, of course.”

Emelia smiled into another kiss, and as Drake effortlessly lifted her out of the water and set her on the pier, she laughed. He made her giddy. The way he eyed her body like it was his. The way he claimed and possessed her.

She couldn’t get enough, and she knew she’d never tire of it.

As Drake emerged from the water, he swept Emelia into his arms and carried her to the opposite side of the pier, where a massive tri-level yacht was moored. The top decks were pearly white, with tons of windows and an open bow, while the bottom half was painted a glossy shade of midnight blue.

“Watch your step,” Drake whispered, setting her down.

“What’s up there?” Emelia’s teeth chattered, and although she couldn’t see her lips, she’d bet they were turning purple.

“I keep towels on the deck,” he said, crossing his arms in a shiver. “Unless you’d rather run back to the house.”

Running a few hundred yards in the pouring rain in soggy shoes didn’t sound appealing.

“No, this is…fine.” Her gaze trailed across the long, swooping deck of the yacht, then focused on the white, bulky letters stenciled on the bow: Tara. “A former flame?” she asked.

“Excuse me?” He took her hand.

“The name of the boat. Was Tara a former lover?”

Even through the pouring rain, Emelia could see hints of laughter sparkling deep in Drake’s chocolate-toned eyes. “Tara is the name of the plantation in Gone with the Wind.”

“You’re a fan of the movie?” Emelia couldn’t picture it.

“I’m more of an all-around classic movie fan. Back then, the men were smooth and the women had tenacity to spare. Doesn’t get better than that.” His full lips pulled into a smile and he squeezed her hand. “Now up you go, my lady.” Holding her hand, Drake helped Emelia on board, then followed closely behind her.

The yacht was magnificent, long and sleek, with a formidable bow and bench seats lining the cabin. Although the boat was dark and quiet, bobbing smoothly on the water, Emelia bet the thing was powerful at sea—a beast. She stepped beneath a balcony to get protection from the rain. As if the storm knew the second she’d found somewhere dry, the rain began to fall harder, dripping from the edges of the awning like a lightly streaming waterfall. Drake popped the lid on a bench on the deck as Emelia breathed deep. How had she ended up on the most luxurious yacht she’d ever seen, on Lake Washington, in the middle of a rainstorm, with the elusive Drake Wilder? Two months ago she wouldn’t have believed she’d be here.

“Here.” He draped a towel around her shoulders, then pulled her against him.

Emelia’s body responded to Drake’s body, not the terry cloth, and instantly warmed.

“Better?” he asked, pulling back to look into her eyes. “Your lips aren’t so purple.”

“Thank you.” Lifting up on tiptoe, Emelia kissed him with all the passion she’d kept buried inside. She tried to snapshot this moment—the sound of the rain, the way her stomach somersaulted when his tongue slipped inside her mouth. She wanted to keep this memory with her always. It was dreamlike. Beyond surreal.

Emelia’s heart pinched as realization struck her like a thunderclap. This wasn’t her reality…it might as well have been a dream. Drake wanted to show her what it would be like if she lived with him day and in and day out. If this was the life Drake wanted her to see—jet-setting to galas in the city, mansions in Seattle and San Francisco, and spending the night on an elegant yacht—she didn’t fit. She was a middle-class, hardworking bartender. She couldn’t talk to his associates the way he did. She couldn’t drive his Mercedes every day, though she’d started to get used to how that car could get up and go.

How long would it take before Drake realized she didn’t belong in his world?

As Emelia put her head on Drake’s chest and scanned the long length of the yacht, she realized she was out of her league. If this was the way Drake lived, she’d never live up to it. She refused to live her life feeling inferior to what Drake had to offer. If they were going to be “bonded”—as he put it—she would need to feel like Drake’s match.

If Emelia said yes to Drake, would she be marrying the businessman, or the carefree man who flapped around buck-naked in the lake? Would she be marrying the stern, unshakable man who loved extravagances that she couldn’t dream of having, or the man she met in the wine cellar when he could’ve been the janitor or company security? If she was going to consider spending her life with him, Emelia needed more reality and less of…this.

An idea struck.

“I think I’d like to let you take me on that date,” she said, as lightning lit the sky.

Would Drake continue to try to impress her with glitz and glamor or would he be the man she wanted him to be?

“I have some last-minute business to take care of tomorrow,” he said, “but how does Friday night sound?”

“I have to work the bar on Friday.”

“After your shift then?” He didn’t skip a beat.

What kind of date starts at two in the morning?

“Okay,” she said, struggling to remember that the date would have to happen on his terms. “Friday night sounds perfect.” As a light on his neighbor’s back porch clicked on, Emelia smiled. “I think your neighbors might be peeping on us.”

“Only if they have a telescopic lens.” Craning his neck around, Drake peered through the rain. Without warning, he hauled Emelia against him and bent her back into a dance-like dip. “If they’re watching, let’s give them the show of their lives.”

Emelia’s body surged with heat as Drake possessed her mouth and dragged her to the floor.