"Hey, you two," I said and slipped my arm through Drake's, pulling him away gently. "I'd like to see the rest of the exhibits. Sefton," I said and gave him a nod. "Good to see you again. Maybe Drake and I will drop by your exhibit and see your latest works."
Sefton had locked eyes with Drake and held his gaze, not looking at me.
"I look forward to it."
Then he turned and walked off. I felt the tension drain out of Drake's body, his muscles relaxing under my hand.
"Let's go," I said softly. We walked in the other direction, and were barely ten feet away when Drake muttered something under his breath.
"What did you say?" I asked, leaning closer.
"I said he's a fucking jerk."
"Drake!" I pushed him as he walked beside me, his hands stuffed into his own pockets. "You were ready to get into a fight with him. I could tell by the way your body tensed."
"Damn right I was. He did practically assault you in the tent in Africa. You texted me right after and were really upset, Kate. By all rights, I should plough him one now."
"Drake!" I stopped him and rested my hands on his shoulders, looking deep into his eyes. "I'm a big girl and was able to look after myself."
"He could have raped you," he said, his voice deep and emotional. "Out there on the savannah. What could you have done to stop him?"
"Scream? Hit him? Luckily, Claire came in and that shocked him back into reality."
"That's my point. If Claire hadn't come in, what then?"
I sighed. "I'm fine. Nothing more happened and it was all just a bad memory I tucked away in the back of my mind. Seeing him again brought it back and I'm glad nothing more came of it, but let's not allow Sefton and his pompous snark ruin our evening."
Drake leaned closer to me, his eyes half lidded. "When I get you home tonight, I'm going to tie you to my bed and make you come three times without a brea
k."
That sent a jolt of lust to my core. Drake hadn’t spoken to me like that for a long time nor had I seen the possessiveness in his eyes like that for a while either.
It totally turned me on.
"When we get home, I promise you can do whatever you want to me, especially if you look at me like that when you do it."
"Oh, yeah?" Drake said, his tone lightening a little. "How am I looking at you?"
"Like a lion regards the lamb he's just about to eat."
He smiled slowly, but not a full smile. It was a lusty smile that promised so much pleasure.
"You like it when I look at you like I'm just about to eat you, do you Ms. Bennet?"
"Oh, yes, I do, Dr. Morgan. I do, very much."
"Hmm," he said and quirked an eyebrow, totally ruining the effect. Then he chuckled. "I'm sorry I was such an idiot, but the thought of any man touching you makes me feel like a raging bull."
I ran my fingers along the lapel of his sports jacket. "Raging bull, hmm?" I said in a soft voice, aware of the people milling around. I leaned closer so that only he could hear me. "I think I like that image almost as much as the hungry lion image. You with your nostrils flared, examining my naked body with salacious intent, standing over me like you own me."
"Salacious intent?" Drake leaned down and kissed me, a smile on his lips. When he pulled back, I could see the humor in his eyes. "I do own you, Mrs. Morgan," Drake said. "In a totally feminist, full equality, sort of playacting ownership way."
"You do, Dr. Morgan," I said and stood on my tiptoes, my mouth beside his hear, "and you could put a collar on me and lead me around a dungeon and I'd do anything you asked of me."
"Oh, God," Drake said when I moved back. He leaned down, his mouth beside my ear this time. "Are you trying to make me hard right here in the middle of the art exhibition? Because if you are, you're succeeding. I'm going to have to walk bent over and with a limp the rest of the evening because of all the hard inches I'm going to give you later..."
I smiled up at him, my own eyes half-closed. "You know what I'd love to do with all your hard inches, Dr. Morgan?"