Chapter 8: Chapter Eight

Lydia was stunning. She was simply breathtaking. Everything about her was refreshing. Drake found it nearly impossible to steer his gaze away from her and he felt the need to give her anything and everything she wanted. He'd chuckled when he saw how in awe she was with his home. It was all meaningless and replaceable to Drake, but to Lydia, well she'd seemed enchanted by every single detail.

"I find myself wanting to give you everything you desire," Drake stated, his voice husky as he walked toward her, two long-stemmed wine glasses in hand.

Fuck, why had he just said that? He wasn't meant to be romanticizing her. This was a contract. That was it.

"You already have," Lydia purred, taking the glass of red from him, and taking a tentative sip, "Mmm, Malbec. My favorite."

Drake slowly lowered himself down on the loveseat, sitting close enough to Lydia to feel her body's natural heat, but not close enough to touch her. He wanted there to be space between them for this conversation. They had plenty of time still to perfect being comfortable with each other's presence later.

He brought the wine glass to his lips, tilting it slightly to admire the deep, rich red color of the Malbec. The glass was elegant and fragile, but Drake's grip was steady as he lifted it to his mouth, taking a deep sip. The flavors exploded on his tongue, a mix of black cherries and a subtle hint of vanilla. The small taste warmed his body and calmed his nerves enough for him to begin, "Okay, so let's talk about the contract."

Lydia lifted her own glass to her lips and almost drained it, before she responded with a timid, "Okay."

Drake extended his arm towards the coffee table and retrieved the bottle he had set there earlier, pouring more of the red liquid into Lydia's glass for her. "It's easier to remember the truth than it is to remember a lie, so I think we should stick as close to the truth as possible. Tell me a little bit about yourself and then I'll tell you about me."

Lydia's hands trembled as she lifted her freshly refilled glass. She quickly downed the entire contents in one gulp. This is exactly what she didn't want to happen. She didn't want to get closer to Drake. She didn't want to know him on a personal level. She wanted to play a character, whose clothes and personality she could shed when the day was over. If she let her real self show, it would be hard to separate her life and her work. She wouldn't be able to pretend she wasn't an escort at the end of each day.

"Sorry," She croaked, face flushing red with embarrassment, "I'm normally not this shy."

Drake just smiled and gently took her glass from her hand, refilling it and handing it back to her, without saying a word. He wanted her to feel comfortable with him and share her story with him when she was ready. He was willing to wait all night if that's what it would take.

"Okay, well my name is Lydia Greystone. I'm eighteen years old. I was born on Valentine's Day of '94. That was a Monday, by the way. I was born to Rebecca Greystone. I don't know who my father is. He walked out on my mom when she found out she was pregnant with me. His name isn't on the birth certificate and my mom has never uttered his name. Umm... let's see what else..."Lydia tapped her chin, leg bouncing up and down with nerves, "I'm a business school dropout. My mom ended up severely injured in a car accident and I became a hooker... err... I mean an escort to help pay the bills. There does sum it up enough for you." Lydia growled out with irritation, bringing her glass back to her lips and taking a much smaller sip than previously, wishing she had something stronger to drink instead.

"Lydia," Drake purred, leaning in closer to her, invading her personal space. He took the wine glass from her grasp and placed it on the nearby table. With her hands now free, he gently took hold of both and brought them to his lips, brushing each palm softly against his mouth, "I don't need to know what is in your file. I want to know more about you. About what makes Lydia, Lydia. Let's start simple. What is your favorite color?"

Lydia hesitated for a moment, cautious before replying, "Pink. Yours?"

"Blue. A very light shade of blue. So light it appears to be white unless it is seen in the sun. Once it's lit up you would be able to see the hues of blue. Any nicknames?"

Lydia thought his answer was strange. It seemed too in-depth for a favorite color, too detailed. She wanted to ask more, but Drake had seemed almost eager to move on from colors. She decided to store her questions for a later date. They would have a whole month together and if she really wanted to know more, she'd likely be able to find the time to ask him, "Liddy. My friends call me Liddy. And what about you, Mr. Alston? Any nicknames?"

"You can call me Drake." He replied, his answer so cut and dry. He wanted her to open top more, but he seemed so closed off himself. How was she supposed to get to know him if he wasn't willing to share anything? He was being a hypocrite. Not that she should have expected any less. He owed her nothing. He practically owned her for the month. She was his property, nothing more.

"Okay." She grumbled rolling her eyes with irritation, "But what do others call you? And might I remind you that this stupid exercise was your idea in the first place? You could at least play fairly."

"Fiesty, little one." Drake chuckled, shifting so he was leaning back against the couch, legs spread wide, arms thrown across the back. "Fine, my dear, since you asked so politely, I'll concede. My brother, Kevin, he calls me Dray. He struggled saying Drake when he was younger, and the nickname just stuck."

"See, Mr. Alston, that wasn't too hard was it?" Lydia asked, leaning toward him, her lips curled up in a smile. She was well past her third glass of wine and was feeling freer now. Not so caged in by her anxiety.

"No, not at all." Drake replied his lips lifting in a smile as he humored her, "But next is the hard part. You see, Lydia, Darling, I'm going to kiss you now." His voice was a mere whisper as his hand reached up cupping her back, and pulling her towards him, causing Lydia to fall onto his lap. "I don't want our first kiss to seem forced when we are in front of the cameras." He had shifted his body and Lydia was now straddling him, his hand flat on her back, holding her body in place. His green eyes met her blue, before trailing down and settling on her plush lips, waiting for her permission.

Lydia could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest as she stared into Drake's eyes, her gaze flickering down to his lips, and then back to his eyes. She licked her lips once, before biting her lower lip. The only sign of permission she was willing to grant him.

Drake's hand slipped up her back and looped around her neck, tilting her face up and pulling her even closer to him, bringing his face mere inches from hers. Lydia's eyes closed as she awaited his kiss. She held her breath, her lips slightly parted in anticipation.

She wasn't kept waiting long. His lips crashed down onto hers. Drake tasted like the wine they'd just been drinking. His kiss was warm and intoxicating. A soft sigh escaped Lydia's lips as she melted into the kiss. His kiss was passionate and left her wanting more. She responded to him just as greedily, hands clasping his shirt and she kissed him hungrily, the warmth of the wine coursing through her blood, spurning her on. It had been so long since she'd been kissed. Kissing was one of her hard limits. It, just like sleeping beside someone in bed, was too intimate. And God did she miss kissing. She didn't want it to end. She wanted Drake to devour her. Her hands moved off of his chest, wrapping around his neck and pulling him further into her, wanting to fill his rough body against her feminine curves. When she felt him harden beneath her she let out a soft moan. Drake smiled, slowing his kiss, before tilting his head up and breaking his lips from hers. They were both breathing hard.

"Well, the chemistry is definitely there." She chuckled bashfully, sliding off of his lap and taking the seat beside him.

"There's no doubt about that." Drake replied, looking down at his pants, and glaring at the tent he was now pinching.

"Oops, sorry about that." Lydia giggled, averting her eyes as he adjusted himself.

"No need to be sorry, Beautiful." Drake smiled, "Sex won't happen unless you want it to. I'm a grown-ass man, I can take care of my own needs."

Lydia's mouth dropped open with shock. "Y...y...You are paying Mia Novella's Escort Services $100,000 a week and you aren't wanting sex in return?" She stammered.

Drake couldn't help but laugh again, "I never said I didn't want sex, Darling." He winked, "I just said that I want to have sex with you on your own accord. I don't want you to feel forced by some contract to have sex with me."

Lydia blushed profusely, her entire face and chest lightening up, "Oh. I see."

"How about we practice a kiss that's okay for the public's eye." He smiled, leaning in and placing a chaste kiss against her lips, before pulling back.

Lydia's arms wrapped around his neck, stopping him before he could pull back completely, and placed two more light pecks on his lips, before pulling away, "Like this?" She smiled flirtatiously.

Drake leaned back in and kissed her again, linger a few seconds longer, than he had, "Mmm... much better." He smiled, clearing his throat, "I think we've just about perfected it."

His smile left his face as he stood up, once again his features took on a professional demeanor, "Tomorrow kicks off the start of the wedding. My mother will be hosting a late brunch-style engagement party for my brother, Kevin, and his fiancé, Madilyn. It will be plastered all over every social magazine. Are you okay with your face being shown in public?"

Lydia took a second to really think about it. If she was seen publicly with a playboy billionaire there really would be no going back to life as it was before her mother's accident. But hadn't she already crossed that line? In less than a year, she felt like she'd become an entirely new person. Even if she walked out of Drake's life right now, and voided her contract, she still wouldn't be able to return to who she was before the accident. "No. I have no issues." She replied, shifting in her seat.

"Good," Drake nodded, "I typically try to stay out of the spotlight, but my mother is all about publicity. So we will probably be on display, and quite often at that."

"Maybe this will be the kickstart to my acting career." Lydia winked playfully.

Drake scowled, his brows furrowing, but before he could say anything in response, Lydia interrupted him. "I'm only kidding Drake. No one, not even your mother will be able to tell that this," she gestured between him and herself, "is fake."

"I sure hope not." Drake sighed, silently wondering how well his business would fair, if the media found out he'd hired an escort.