Chapter Eight

Drake

" I s that Drake Whitlock?" Debbie Moorehead, one of the biggest gossips in town, whispers far too fucking loudly as I stroll through Dooley Advertising, my feet thumping against the luxurious tile, sweat trickling down my back. My heart feels like it's going to beat out of my chest.

I've never been this nervous in my life. I don't even fucking know why I'm nervous. Madeline left my bed a few hours ago—not nearly long enough for her to have forgotten that she's falling for me. But I'm fucking nervous anyway. I tried to work all goddamn morning but couldn't get a single thing done. All I could think about was her and the fact that she wasn't in my arms where she's supposed to be.

I need to see her, need to touch her. I won't be able to think straight until I'm looking into her eyes again.

"Yes," someone whispers to Debbie. I don't see who. I don't bother looking. What's the point? They've been whispering about me for years. Every damn time I come into town, they act like I've emerged from a black hole or some shit. It's ridiculous.

I'm also well aware that it's my own doing. This is the life I chose. But fucking hell. People like Debbie make sure it's as irritating as hell.

"What is he doing here?" Debbie asks.

"You didn't hear? Madeline Dooley left Trick or Treat with him on Halloween," her friend hisses.

"Are you serious? Why ?"

Jesus Christ. Does everyone in this fucking town think I've turned into a goddamn psycho in my mansion?

I snort to myself. Do I even need to answer that? I wasn't lying when I told Madeline that most people left high school in high school. They've either forgotten why I don't come around much, or they just don't get it. As far as they're concerned, all the time I spend alone makes me eccentric…which is just a polite way of saying fucking weird.

"Don't ask me," Debbie's friend mutters. "I don't care how much money he has. There's no way I'd go out to that big ass house of his alone."

"Girl, me either. He probably has bodies in the frigging basement."

A growl rumbles in my chest, irritation coursing through me. Is this really what everyone thinks of me?

"Well, if she's with him, you have to wonder about her too."

Fucking hell. I stop walking, my stomach churning.

Is this what they'll think of Madeline because she's with me?

It's a grim thought, one I hadn't considered before now. I'm used to people around here judging me. I'm used to being an outsider. But is that how they're going to view Madeline if she's with me? As an outsider? Someone to avoid? That's not what she deserves. She deserves someone who belongs, someone who can make this town a home for her, a place full of love.

Debbie and her friend fall silent. Their eyes bore into my back as my mind races through my options. Except…they don't feel like options. One is a future. The other is a prison sentence.

I spin on my heel.

My heart crashes against my ribcage when I see Madeline standing near the entrance, her hair in loose waves around her face, her tight pencil skirt highlighting every gorgeous inch of her body. Her eyes meet mine across the lobby, and I know she heard her fucking coworkers. I see it in her eyes—sadness, anger. Grief.

Fuck.

I stride toward her, my feet moving in her direction before I even give the command.

"You're leaving." Her shoulders droop, grief floating through her expression as she stares at me. That look on her face—like her whole world just fell out from beneath her—has mine shaking beneath my feet.

Leaving? Fuck. Does she think I'm running? That I heard what they said and decided to get the fuck out of here?

Hell no. It's the exact opposite.

"I love you," I blurt, my voice ringing across the lobby.

Her mouth falls open.

"I've hidden in my mansion for years, avoiding people like your coworkers." I cut my eyes in their direction, letting them know I heard every fucking word. Debbie has the grace to look embarrassed. Her friend, a blonde I don't recognize, hides behind her monitor at the receptionist's desk. "They don't know me because I never gave them that chance."

My goddamn heart is in my throat as I take another step toward her. "I want to change that, Madeline." I swallow hard. "You made me want to change that."

"Drake," she whispers, her cinnamon eyes wide. "What are you doing?"

"Telling you that I love you and that I'll do whatever it takes to make this town a home for you." I gently reach out, closing her mouth with a finger beneath her chin. "I don't fucking care if I have to leave the mansion every day, baby. I'll do it. I'll trick-or-treat. I'll go to parties. I'll make friends. I'll do whatever I have to do to ensure people in this town know you and love you as much as I do."

"You hate people."

"Yeah, but I love you." I cup her cheek, my lips kicking up into a grin. "I built a fucking mansion to piss off the town council. You think I won't show up in town every single day and learn to get along with people if it makes you happy?"

"Drake." Tears well in her eyes as I pull her into my arms. "I don't care what anyone else thinks. I don't care what they say about you or about me or about your stupid basement. I…"

"Say it." I don't ask. I fucking plead. "Say it, unicorn."

"I love you." A hint of vulnerability shines in the depths of her eyes. Her voice shakes.

She loves me. Fucking hell. My little unicorn is actually trusting me with her heart. And I know that shit isn't easy for her. I see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice, and feel it in the way she clings to me. She's afraid, but she's still so goddamn brave—for me. With me. If she's my peace, I'm her security. She needs me just as much as I need her.

I haul her up against my chest, my lips coming down on hers in a hard kiss. I don't care who sees. I don't care what they say. They don't matter. They never fucking did.

The concept of work as necessary is a bullshit human construct, I decide as I pace the living room, slowly losing my mind. It's been eleven thousand hours since I left Madeline's office this morning.

I haven't gotten a fucking thing done. Not one. All I've done all goddamn day is text her, stare at the clock, and pace. My home no longer feels peaceful. It feels like a prison keeping me from her.

This is a problem.

Actually, the fact that she's at work is the problem. She's supposed to be in my bed with my tongue between her legs, licking her perfect little cunt while she whines my name.

A soft knock on the door sends me racing across the living room. I don't even fucking pretend to be cool about it. I'm not cool about it. I'm a goddamn man on the edge.

I wrench the door open, breathing like a madman.

"Miss me, Whitlock?" Madeline grins, leaning against the door frame, looking like a goddess in her pencil skirt and pale pink blouse.

"Fuck," I growl, dragging her into my arms. My lips come down on hers in a hard kiss, my heart pounding like a fucking drum.

"I'll take that as a yes," she breathes, wrapping herself around me like she can't get close enough.

"I missed the fuck out of you, unicorn." I kick the door closed, carrying her inside. "You're never allowed to go to work again. Tell Tyler you work from home now."

"Home, huh?" Her eyes sparkle with mischief. "I already told you that you can't tie me up in your basement, Drake."

"Fuck the basement." I press her up against the door, raking her skirt up her thighs. "I'll tie you to the goddamn bed, baby. That is where you told him you were on Halloween."

"Are you trying to get me naked?"

"Noticed that, huh?"

"I did." She nips my earlobe. "You should really work faster, Drake. Otherwise, I may have to take care of myself again."

My gaze flies to hers. "Again? What do you mean again?"

"You were the one sending me dirty texts all day." She shrugs. "I did what needed to be done."

Oh, hell no. My unicorn did not get herself off without me.

"Show me," I growl, grabbing her hand and sliding it down her body. "Right now, unicorn. Show me what you did to this perfect little pussy."

Her eyes darken as she slowly trails her hand down her body. Biting her lip, she pushes her panties aside and dips her fingers into her slick folds.

"I touched myself like this, Drake," she whispers, arching into her own touch. "I rubbed my clit, thinking about your hands all over me."

I groan, my cock jerking in my pants as I watch her tease herself. Goddamn. This is the dream. "That's it, baby. Show me how you made yourself come."

She slides one finger deep inside, a breathy moan escaping her lips. Her hips rock, finding a steady rhythm as she fingers her tight little pussy. I grip her thighs, spreading her wider around my hips, entranced by the sight of her getting herself off.

"Another finger," I command. "Get this sweet cunt ready for my cock."

She obeys without a word, slipping a second finger inside alongside the first. She's so fucking beautiful like this—cheeks flushed, lips parted, completely lost to the pleasure.

"I imagined it was you," she pants, speeding up her thrusts. "Touching me, filling me, making me yours again."

I can't resist any longer. I balance her carefully as I drop to my knees. As soon as I'm sure she's steady. I bury my face between her thighs, sucking her sensitive clit between my lips as my tongue flicks over the swollen nub.

She cries out, her thighs trembling against my shoulders. "Oh god, Drake! I'm gonna come!" Her movements turn frantic, desperate for release.

I pull back just enough to look into her dazed eyes. "I love you, unicorn," I rasp, unable to stop the truth from spilling from my lips. Now that I've told her, I don't think I'll ever stop saying it. "Now, let go and fucking come all over my tongue."

Her orgasm hits instantly. Back bowing, she shatters with a scream, her juices flooding my mouth. I lap up every drop like a starving man, groaning at the addictive taste of her.

"I love you," I repeat as she floats down from her high. "I'm so fucking in love with you, Madeline."

"Good to know," she whispers, her wide eyes meeting mine. "Because I love you too. And I'd really love if you were inside me right now."

"Fuck," I groan, pulling her down onto my lap.

She immediately reaches for the fly of my pants, eagerly tearing through the zipper in her haste to get to my cock.

My head falls back on a groan when I feel her perfect hand around me, pulling me from the confines of my jeans. Goddamn, that hand is magical.

I growl against her lips as she grinds down on my aching cock, taking me deep inside. My hands fly to her ass, gripping her round cheeks possessively. She feels so fucking perfect wrapped around me, like her body was made just for mine.

"Ride me, baby. Take what you need."

And holy hell, does she ever. Rising up on her knees, she slams back down, impaling herself on my cock. Over and over, she rocks and bounces, finding a hard, fast rhythm that has us both panting and moaning.

Her nails dig into my shoulders as she rocks on top of me, her head thrown back in ecstasy. I'm mesmerized by the way her tits bounce beneath her shirt with every thrust, captivated by the flush spreading across her creamy skin.

She's a fucking masterpiece, and she's all mine. This gorgeous, sweet, sassy, smart-mouthed unicorn chose me. Trusts me. Loves me.

It's everything.

"Drake," she whimpers, rocking faster. "I'm so close. I'm gonna…"

I feel her trembling, her pussy fluttering around my cock. She's right on the edge, desperate to go over. Sliding my hand between our bodies, I grind my thumb against her swollen clit, giving her exactly what she needs to send her flying.

"Come on my cock, Madeline," I command. "Let me feel you."

Her mouth falls open on a silent scream as she shatters, her sticky juices flooding over my cock. Her silky walls clamp down, milking me for all I'm worth.

With a roar, I let go, erupting deep inside her clenching heat. My vision goes black from the intensity, fireworks exploding behind my eyes. I've never come so fucking hard in my entire life. This woman is going to be the death of me, and I'm not even mad about it. I'll die happy as hell.

She collapses against my chest, nuzzling into my neck with a contented sigh.

I wrap my arms around her, cradling her close as I press soft kisses into her hair. I'm addicted to the way she feels in my arms, all soft curves and smooth skin. I never want to let her go.

"I can't believe you actually love me," she murmurs after a moment, tracing the lines of my tattoos with her fingertip. "Are you sure I'm not dreaming?"

I buck my hips, earning a moan from her. "Does that feel like a dream, unicorn?"

She lifts her head, meeting my gaze. "I don't know. Better do it again. For science."

"For science, huh?" I flip us over, pinning her beneath me with a grin. "I think you mean for this greedy little unicorn."

"Yeah," she moans, wrapping her legs around my hips. "For that."

I chuckle, pressing my lips to hers.

"We don't have to do this," she says two hours later as I help her down from the truck outside of Midnight Oil , a cafe sandwiched between the bookshop and a bar downtown.

I glance down at her, my brows furrowed. "You think I don't want to go?"

She shrugs, staring up at me. "You don't like people, Drake. You don't have to do this for me."

I tip her head back, forcing her to meet my gaze. "I don't give a fuck about anyone inside that cafe, unicorn. You're hungry. We're getting food."

I'm not thrilled about sharing her, but I don't really give a shit. I meant what I told her today. I'll come into town every fucking day if that's what I have to do. Everything anyone could have said about me, they said years ago. So long as they aren't saying it about her, I don't care.

That's not why I stopped walking.

"You seem nervous," she murmurs.

"Nope. I seem annoyed. Sheriff Midnight is heading our way." I nod in his direction. God only knows what he wants.

Madeline glances to the left, her eyes growing comically wide when she spots him striding down the sidewalk at the far end of the block, his eyes locked on the two of us. Before I can even process what's happening, she's behind me, using my body like a shield.

"We have to run, Drake," she hisses. "Right now."

Jesus fuck. Did she actually murder her cousin today?

"We're not running from the cops, Madeline."

"I swear to God if you don't move your ass, Whitlock…"

I spin around, scooping her up into my arms, mildly alarmed that she did actually murder Tyler today and intends to flee for her life. I mean, I'll run with her. I'm a fucking billionaire. I'm fairly confident in my ability to survive a life on the lam. But Midnight will be pissed about it. And fucking her on the run will be a helluva lot harder than fucking her in my bed…but a motherfucker will do what a motherfucker's gotta do.

But apparently, I'm not the kind of ride-or-die motherfucker who just rides. I've got questions first.

"Why are we running?"

"He knows we had sex," she whisper-hisses, her cheeks blazing red. "I can't meet him when he knows we had sex, Drake."

Jesus Christ. She has me plotting a life on the run because the sheriff knows we're fucking.

"Marry me."

She gapes at me.

Fuck. It's too soon. I shouldn't have said that. I absolutely meant it, but I shouldn't have said it yet. I should have waited, given her more time to realize that this is exactly what she wants, and then asked.

"You want to marry me?"

"I wanted to marry you five minutes after I met you, Madeline." Goddamn my mouth.

"Whitlock!" Midnight lifts his hand, motioning for me.

Madeline's eyes flicker in his direction. "If I say yes, will you run?"

"Are you only saying yes because you want me to run?"

"No."

"Then yes, I'll run."

"Then yes, I'll marry you."

Fucking hell. She actually said yes.

I tighten my grip on her and turn, taking off in the opposite direction as the sheriff.

"Whitlock!" he shouts after me.

"Can't talk!" I growl over my shoulder at Midnight. "I'm fucking busy."

"Yeah. We're going to have we're-getting-married sex!" Madeline shouts, clinging to my shoulders as peals of her laughter ring out around us. The bright, happy sound hits me right in the goddamn heart, toppling every single inch of it into her perfect hands.

This is the most chaotic, perfect holiday I've ever had. And I get to spend a lifetime with her and her chaos turning my life upside down, making every part of it better every single day. The past doesn't matter anymore—this does. She does. And I can't fucking wait to turn this town inside out with her.