Covered In Paint: Book Five of the Art Of Love Series by Donna McDonald Page A

both hands in her hair and yanked to keep from yelling. Drake reached out and snagged one before it dropped back down. He used it to steady himself and pull her closer to him. He groaned as he wrapped her into his arms.
    “There is not enough cognac distilled in the world to make me forget how bad I still want you.”
    “Drake…”
    Exasperated more than she could ever remember being, Brooke said his name, but stupidly let him tug her against him. He smelled like the liquor he drank and like the man who had pleasured her earlier. Her arms came around him and desire returned. She sighed against the front of him as he leaned into her. This was not the careful wanting she’d allowed herself. This was mixed with frustration and topped off with a dizzy longing to have that erection he was sporting inside her again.
    “Let’s go lay down before you fall down,” she whispered, hoping to get him horizontal before he passed out in her arms.
    “I don’t want to sleep with a woman who doesn’t like me,” he complained.
    Brooke might have actually believed him if he hadn’t had a death grip on the wrist he was currently using to drag her through a totally dark house. She couldn’t have broken his hold without sending them both tumbling to the floor.
    “I like you…mostly,” Brooke assured him, as he pulled her into a room off the kitchen.
    “Not good enough,” Drake declared.
    His other answer was to lift her and toss her squealing, protesting ass into the middle of a king-sized bed. Before she could right herself, Drake dove in and wrestled her until he was lying on top of her and conveniently between her legs.
    “You are drunk. Don’t even think about it,” Brooke hissed, pushing on the shoulders she’d once admired.
    To her shock, Drake snickered over her threat and pushed his face into her shoulder. The hard smack she gave him on the back of his head was totally spontaneous because it snuck past her decision to be immovable.
    After doing it, Brooke froze, alarmed at having genuinely hit him.
    “Ouch…okay, maybe I deserved that for teasing too much,” Drake admitted, grinding his erection into her to get even.
    Brooke swallowed and squirmed against him, stopping when she realized her movements only made it worse. And then…then she let it all go and got comfortable.
    Two seconds later, she was laughing at herself and him. Being outraged over what Drake said and did apparently had a strange effect on her.
    “Don’t make me hurt that outstanding thing throbbing against my crotch. That would be a total shame, but I will do it if you try anything funny in your current condition. I don’t have sex with drunks,” she warned.
    Snickering, Drake raised his head and stared into her irritated gaze. “ Thing? Really? Are you that much of a prude? Ouch…are you into pain or something?”
    His yelping laughter didn’t make her stinging hand feel any better. She had smacked his butt, and he was wearing jeans.
    “Drake, get your lead ass off me and go to sleep. Your problem will calm down when you do,” Brooke stated.
    “Have you ever heard of Tantric Sex?” Drake asked, lowering his voice as he kissed her throat. His mouth traveled until he found the perfect place. She smelled heavenly.
    Brooke started to push Drake off…but paused to look at him when he stopped tormenting her. Only he wasn’t looking back. Drake was snoring quietly against her chin.
    “Oh for pity’s sake,” she declared, rolling him off her. It was a bit amazing how heavy he actually was. Those clothes of his sure didn’t give his true size away. But it was definitely more muscle than anything else.
    After rolling, he landed flat on his back, mouth open.
    Shaking her head, Brooke started to climb from the bed, only to feel an iron grip on her wrist again.
    “Don’t leave…please.”
    Brooke let loose a sigh. “Roll to your side then.”
    “Will you spoon me?”
    Despite her agitation, Brooke laughed loudly, the sound of her