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

home.”
    “Drake—don’t be so melodramatic. That’s not what I meant…I’m just…” Brooke gave up, sighed, and put an arm over her eyes as she listened to Drake stomp through the apartment and slam out the door.
    Apparently mind-blowing sex brought out his inner drama queen, which she had accidentally provoked more by voicing aloud her embarrassed reaction to letting him…fucking hell… ravish her . There was no other description for what he’d done, even though it sounded ridiculous.
    After more than a decade of calling the shots when it came to her sex life, letting Drake have his way so completely had been a shock. She typically slept with men on her terms…and when she wanted…not when they ordered her to.
    She certainly didn’t let them strip her half naked at her front door, bind her wrists with her own clothes, and tell her what the hell to do next. No man should have so much power, no matter how freaking good he was.
    Why did even thinking about the sex they’d just had make her head hurt?
    “There is no swear word sufficient to describe how deep I stepped in it this time,” Brooke told the walls.
    Fifteen minutes later, she was still staring at the ceiling while also grudgingly admitting how physically relaxed she was for the first time in as long as she could remember. As a lover, Drake was thorough, knowledgeable, and hell…just as seasoned as her mother had proclaimed he probably was. Brooke could practically hear “I told you so” being whispered in her ear.
    Now the seasoned man was upset, and she felt like five kinds of shit for sending him off with such a lousy thank you. Why though? Why did she care how he felt?
    She hadn’t even gotten to talk to him about the whole naked model issue. Her feelings about that had the ability to make her cringe, more now that he’d seen her nearly naked breasts.
    Okay. Maybe she could have done a better job at keeping her thoughts to herself after the deed was done. Maybe she could have fixed him a drink or two or three. Then when he was mildly inebriated, she could have told Drake it would never work out because she couldn’t stand the idea of being physically compared to other women.
    But why the hell did she care that he might be hurt by her feelings? That was…completely illogical. He was the one who pushed through the door and seduced her.
    “Men and their stupid male egos,” Brooke complained, pulling herself from the bed.
    Wearing only her high heels and black lace bra, she stepped over the rest of her clothes and headed to the bathroom to make repairs. At the very least, she probably owed Drake an apology for being so insensitive after he’d unselfishly given her two orgasms.
    And at most…
    Sighing, Brooke paused in the bedroom door and glanced back once more at the black dress pooled on the floor by the bed. The underwear Drake had stripped from her in one swipe was tossed halfway across the room. By that point, he’d been on autopilot to get inside her as fast he could. She was going to be reliving that particular moment…and a few others with him…until the day she died. So at most…she probably needed to confess to Drake how outstanding he had been, even if it couldn’t work out between them long term.
    Never one to put off doing the hard thing, no matter how much she hated it, Brooke decided she’d go see Drake as soon as she cleaned up. She would apologize, explain, and then he’d have the rest of the night to get used to the fact they would never work.

Chapter 8
     
    “Dad? Sedrick and I are heading to the late movie. Why are you sitting here in the dark?” Brandon glanced into the darkened room before tossing a look over his shoulder down the hall. “Sedrick, go start the car. I’ll be right there. I need to talk to Dad for a minute.”
    He waited until Sedrick had closed the front door behind him before turning back to his father who was slumped in his “thinking” chair in his studio. The only light in the room was