**Author's note: I'm not a slacker, I swear. I truly am not. I've been working and thinking on the story a lot lately, and a lot has happened. Between illness in the family, turmoil at work, and a slight case of author's allergy (ahem… it's not writer's block, people, just go with it), I've had a really hard time getting to write lately. But Drake and Gen are still cavorting around in my head, and so here's the latest chapter. If it sucks, you have all my apologies. It's not betaed (sugarbear_1269 and violetjersey always do wonderful work), because I've spent too long on this chapter and simply want it to out and done with. Bratty child that it is. Thanks to everyone who gave me encouraging words now and again to let me know they're waiting… for as long as it takes me. Now, happy reading and hopefully the next chapter will be longer, quicker, and um… low-carb. Or something.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN- Obeying the Rules
"She's not listening."
Gen shot an annoyed glance at Connor, who had directed the last comment matter-of-factly to Lucia, who was perched beside him.
"I bloody well am listening, Con," Gen snapped crossly. "Need I nod my head constantly just to prove it?"
"Genevieve is having a bad day," Lucia observed, but she, too, seemed distracted, craning her slender neck to peer across the room occasionally.
"She's having a bad day," Connor said, reaching across the table to cover Gen's hand with his, "Because she continues to put up with Moneybags Mallory." He'd have to have been blind not to see the look pass over his best friend's face, a subtle softening of her features, her breath catching in the beginnings of a sigh just before she stopped herself, trying instead to look casual.
"I rather think he's trained up a bit better," she said cautiously. "Sometimes he's civil."
Oh, yes, shagging someone definitely took at least some civility.
"Absolutely," Connor said solicitously, his reporter's mind trying to race through the details even as his heart tried to sort out his emotions. "You've trained him quite well. I'm certain I didn't see him grab you and drag you away this morning. Lovey, did you see that?"
"Hmm?" Lucia asked, her brow furrowing. "Oh, yes, I did see that. Is everything okay?"
For a sheer, idiotic, self-destructive moment, Gen considered telling them everything.
Secrets get you nowhere, a small, whispering voice in her head told her. A shiver of fear, of dread slithered through her, the memory of a memory, the ghost of a ghost.
And then it was gone as quickly as it had come, and she shook it off as one shakes off déjà vu or the feeling of someone watching.
"He was just crabby because he has homework I won't let him wiggle out of," Gen said by way of explanation. She'd spent the better part of the day dwelling on Drake's actions of that morning, sudden and hot and totally unexpected. He hadn't acted like himself-he'd acted like a man possessed. While that wasn't necessarily out of the ordinary, this morning he had been an entirely different demon.
She wasn't naïve enough to hope sex had somehow changed him, and she certainly wasn't stupid enough to think it had anything to do with emotions.
And then he walked into the student lounge where they all sat, lighting a cigarette and narrowing his eyes against the thin smoke it brought up, and her heart bumped double-time in her chest. He turned his head as he walked into the lounge surrounded by his entourage. He had never been a part of them, but he was even more separate now, his air that of an unlistening and unwilling participant in a group, his attention otherwise monopolized. His eyes met hers with a searing flash, and any following comments she'd had to make to her friends were lost in the space between them.
One impatient hand shoved flaxen hair out of silver eyes, and Gen bit her lip-
Didn't I have my hands in that hair?
Sliding his cigarette between his lips-
That mouth, oh God…
That hair, that mouth, the unbuttoned shirt, the expensive spicy smell of him…
And then he looked away, the moment broken, and she could feel her breath coming in short, sharp cycles.
"The trouble is," Connor was lecturing, "He has no concept of rules."
Gen jumped as though stuck with a hot poker. "Rules!" she burst out, standing quickly enough to rap her legs on the underside of the table. "That's right, Con, everyone needs rules, even him." A thin, strange laugh tumbled from her lips and she added, "Especially him." She couldn't get him out of her head, damn it all, and that was going to have to change.
Rules, indeed. She'd lay down the law, they'd get their tutoring done, and there'd be no more… transgressions.
She'd gathered her things and darted from the room before Connor or Lucia could reply, leaving the both of them staring after her perplexedly, and one other watching her go with something just shy of overt fascination.
"You reckon she knows she's mad?" Connor asked Lucia contemplatively.
~~~
It didn't really sound like an altogether bad idea just to drive off and leave her, to go out with his friends and just forget the whole poncey tutoring gig. He had to have been out of his mind to kiss her earlier that morning, just plain raving loony. But as the day wore on, as he sat through class so boring they were painful, after he saw her with her friends, a plan began to form in Drake's mind.
If he was nothing else, he was a consummate planner. He may have learned nothing else from his father, but he had learned how to outmaneuver the enemy. Up until now, he'd let her have the advantage.
But no more.
If he was cursed to want her, then she'd by God want him back, and she'd keep wanting him until he was finished with her.
That conviction only wavered a little when she walked out of the school, wind sending her skirt flapping around her legs.
"Do you think you could possibly hurry it up a bit so I'm not doing history homework until we ourselves are history?" he said, rolling his eyes grandly before shoving the sunglasses into place. He flicked his cigarette butt to the ground, grinding it out without looking. Instead, he kept his eyes on her.
It was her turn to roll her eyes. She could afford to be a little casual, she thought. She had things figured out now. Ground rules were the key. If she could get the heathen to do his homework, she could get him to keep his hands off her.
Provided that was what she wanted.
"Before we go anywhere," she said hastily, trying to stem her thoughts and keep her voice casual, level, cool. It shook anyway. "I have a few rules."
His eyes impassive behind black glass, he did what he'd wanted to do all day and touched her, trailing a fingertip down her arm., pleased to see her shiver. "You know I don't play by the rules, pet."
She drew back then, the swift motion sending music careening through his head.
Sweet dreams are made of this…
"First rule," she said, willing herself not to lean into that touch, curl into that stroke and purr like a damned cat. "No touching."
"I've heard that one before," Drake snorted, but a frisson of panic wedged its way into his brain. Was it even remotely possible she'd just… finished with him? Was it to all be cool and calculated and pitying from now on?
"Second rule?" he asked flatly, trying to sound disinterested.
"No tutoring in any room with a bed." A blush reddened her cheeks and she hoped a crack would yawn open and swallow her whole. Sure, it sounded reasonable, all things considered, but wasn't she basically admitting she couldn't control herself?
He, she insisted internally, nervously chewing on her lips, clenching her hands into fists as she waited for his response. He couldn't control himself.
"More simply put," he said in that maddening voice, that auditory smirk, "No homework in the bedroom." He looked at his fingernails and then back at her. "Clearly that's for other work altogether."
That got her breathing rate up, he thought, watching behind the safety and privacy of tinted glasses as her breasts rose and fell with the rapidity of inhalation and exhalation.
"Rule number three." Her teeth were clenched now, the words pinched.
Insufferable prick.
"No insults," she said. "No bickering and no fighting." Because even an idiot could figure out that's where the sparks were starting from.
And for some reason, that set him off.
"Anything else, mother hen? Any other rules? Because I have a few of my own." She was trying to tame him, tame them both, make him sedate, and all that did… was make him angry. "First rule, quit biting your lips before I take to them myself." Her eyes widened and her pout of a mouth stilled its movement at his whip-crack tone. "And second rule-" he paused his statement to shrug off his jacket and throw it at her. "Put that on. I don't want to have to see what I can't touch."
He rounded the car as she stood, shocked, holding his jacket in one hand as though she didn't know where it came from.
"Well, Miss Wesley, are you coming or are you not? I've been a good little pupil and found a suitable classroom. Now all you have to do is get your arse in gear and get in the car." He watched, half amused and half angry as she tugged on his jacket. "Oops," he said facetiously, sliding off his glasses and looking positively cherubic. "I forgot. No insults. Completely my fault, darling."
Gen bit her tongue, counted backward from ten, and wondered how it was, exactly, that she'd found herself wanting him.
Insufferable… bratty… prick.