Page 78 of Baby Daddy
I’d never been a competitive or confrontational person, but I had enough of this venomous bitch. I drew in a long, steeling breath.
“It was nice seeing you again, Krizia. I’ll tell Drake you said ‘hi.’”
She narrowed her eyes at me as I pivoted on my heel and stalked off. “Wait a second, Deidre,” she snapped before I took two steps. “I just need to ask you one thing.”
Against my better judgment, I spun around and faced the bitch. A smug smile tugged at her full lips. “Weren’t you waiting for a drink?”
“Yes, I was.” Before I could blink an eye, Krizia hurled the contents of her wine glass at me. I gasped with shock as the red wine splattered all over me…both on my exposed chest and my beautiful red dress. Tears stung my eyes as I stared down at the dark crimson liquid dripping down my cleavage and saturating the silk fabric of the gown. My mouth agape and quivering, I gazed up at Krizia.
She smirked. “Enjoy the rest of your night, Deanna, or whatever your name is. The wine’s on me.”
No, the wine was on me. Literally. My eyes watering, I brushed away the deep burgundy rivulets still dripping down my chest as she triumphantly slithered away. My gown was soaked. Stained. And ruined. As a rebel tear crawled down my face, a welcomed voice drifted to my ears.
“Sorry it took so long. The line at every drink station was crazy.”
Drake. Holding two drink in his hands, a white wine for me and some cocktail for him, he strode up to me.
“Drake, I need to go home.”
His eyes fell on me and grew wide. “Jesus. What the fuck happened?”
“Krizia,” I spluttered, holding back more tears.
Drake’s face darkened like the sky. “Fucking crazy bitch.” He plunked the two drinks onto the hors d’oeuvres tray of a passing waiter and gripped my hand. “Come with me.”
Five minutes later, we were inside Drake’s parents’ house in one of the luxurious guest bathrooms. Bigger than the bedroom Ty and I shared, it was all rich marble and bronze, the walls covered with an elegant floral wallpaper. An intoxicating scented candle lit it up in a soft amber glow.
“Step one,” Drake said, dabbing a damp hand towel on the main area of the stain, the halter covering my left boob. “The key is to blot, not rub.”
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Totally turning me on! As he applied pressure, my nipple responded to the friction, growing hard beneath the thin silk fabric. I’m sure he could feel it peeking as well as my heart pounding.
“Thanks to my mother, I’m an expert on red wine stains. I’ve watched her remove them from tablecloths a gazillion times at dinner parties.”
I watched as he continued to dab, my eyes darting back and forth from his hand to our reflection in the large gold-leafed mirror above the sink. He was standing so close I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. The light, manly scent of his cologne mingled with the vanilla scent of the candle, creating a heady combination. Taking a break, he looked down at his handiwork and smiled coyly.
“It looks good.” He eyed my breast, a mixture of pride and lust flickering in his eyes. “Onward.”
“You’re ruining your mother’s beautiful towels.”
“She won’t care. Remember, I told she doesn’t believe in loving things that can’t love you back.”
“I shouldn’t love this dress so much,” I sulked, still convinced it was ruined.
He set the wine-stained towel on the marble counter and then cupped my shoulders. “You should because I love you in it. You look sexy as sin.”
At both his sweet words and gentle touch, goosebumps erupted along my arms. “Thanks,” I gulped. “What’s next?”
He flashed a confident, oh so sexy grin. “Step two.”
Retrieving the hand towel, he dipped it into a bowl of warm sudsy water.
“It just takes patience and a little dishwashing liquid mixed with water.” He applied the towel to my breast, again blotting the stain, but now squeezing the nipple with his fingers as he did. White-hot sparks of arousal shot to my core. It was if a power cord was attached to my pussy.
“This is challenging,” he breathed against my neck, still working my breast.
Oh God, was it. I wanted his luscious mouth all over me in the worst way. My breathing grew harsher. “I bet it’s not as hard as it was removing chunky barf bits,” I randomly spewed, harkening back to our very first encounter in his office.
“D-baby, it’s harder.” On my next rapid heartbeat, he pressed my hand to his crotch. Holy shit. His cock was hard as a rock! Make that a volcano.