The Warrior: DERRICK (Cover Six Security Book 4)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  Shook her head.

  Covered her mouth with a trembling hand.

  But she never looked away from the intensity of his gaze. She couldn't, he wouldn't let her.

  "Derrick, no—I...you—" She swallowed, shook her head again. "You can't. It's not—"

  "Are you going to deny there's a connection? That there's always been a connection?"

  "No, but—there can't be. Not like that. We—we don't—it's not—"

  Derrick reached for her, silenced her with a kiss. Hesitant at first. Soft and gentle. When she didn't pull away, he deepened it, caught her soft sigh in his mouth and pulled her pliant body closer, groaned when soft curves pressed against him.

  He gentled the kiss then pulled away, before he lost all control.

  "One day at a time, Lee. I'm not going to rush this. You've been through too much. Hell, so have I. But I'm not going anywhere, not now. And we'll figure out what this is between us together. Like a team."

  She frowned, tilted her head to the side. "A team?"

  "Yeah, a team. I've had the point driven home quite a bit recently that working as a team is a hell of a lot more effective than working solo."

  "It is." She wrapped her arms around his neck and offered him a smile so bright, his heart slammed into his chest.

  He grabbed her around the waist, settled her on his lap. "I know there's a lot we need to work on, Lee. And we will. Quantico is only a few hours away, I can come down on weekends—"

  "I'm not moving to Quantico."

  "What? But I thought—TR said you were moving to Quantico."

  "No. My training starts next week so I'll be down there for that but I'm not moving. I'll be back here, working in the Baltimore office."

  Derrick glanced at the stack of boxes and frowned. "But you said you were moving in the morning."

  "I am. I found a nice little apartment in Towson."

  "Towson?"

  "Yeah."

  He tightened his arms around her, pressed a quick kiss against her soft mouth. "I have a better idea. Move in with me."

  Lee shook her head so hard that her thick hair fell across her face. She pushed it out of the way, her gaze intent when it met his. "No, Derrick. It's too soon. Everything is happening too fast."

  "But—"

  She placed a finger against his mouth, silencing him. "Even you said we'd take our time and figure things out. Me moving in with you would only cloud the issue."

  He curled his hand around her wrist and pulled her finger from his mouth. "I also said sex would cloud the issue but you didn't seem to care about that."

  A teasing smile curled the corners of her mouth as she settled deeper into his lap and wiggled against him. "You can have your choice of one or the other."

  Derrick dipped his head, caught her mouth in a kiss that quickly intensified, sweeping them along in a fiery river of desire. Of need.

  Lee thought he had made his choice and he had, just not the one she assumed.

  Because he chose her. All of her. He'd finally found what had been missing from his life, what he had never even known was missing. He wasn't about to let her go. Not now.

  And he was willing to wait for her to realize it, no matter how long it took.

  Epilogue

  Two Years Later.

  It had taken two years.

  Two years, three months, and eleven days...

  Not that he was counting.

  Four months and eighteen days before she said she loved him.

  Thirteen months and six days before she accepted his proposal.

  Nineteen months and twenty-eight days before she finally moved in with him.

  And two years—two years exactly from the night he'd finally realized how he felt—before they stood in front of witnesses and pledged eternity together.

  That had been three months and eleven days ago and Derrick still had trouble believing she'd actually said yes. That she was his now. That he was hers. Officially. Legally.

  He stared down at the ring on his finger, bit back a smile. He didn't need the ring or a piece of paper to make it official—she'd been his since the very first night he'd seen her in person. Only—stubborn fool that he was—it had taken him a while to figure it out.

  He wasn't the only stubborn one. It turned out that his wife was just as stubborn as he was, maybe even more so.

  Stubborn.

  Witty.

  Sexy.

  His soulmate.

  Turned out that TR had been right all along—and she wasn't letting him live it down.

  Jesus.

  He propped his shoulder against the doorframe, his gaze completely focused on his wife. Warmth unfurled low in his gut, spread throughout him, leaving him with a feeling of peace and contentment. It hadn't been easy, especially those first six months. They had both had some serious shit to work through. But they'd done it—together.

  As a team.

  At least Zeus hadn't gloated about being right, the way TR had. Not too much, anyway.

  He watched Lee for a few more minutes, smiled at the way her brow furrowed in concentration. At the way her lips silently moved while she studied whatever was on the screen in front of her. She tilted her head to the side, chewed on that plump lower lip for a second. Then her frown cleared and a large smile spread across her face. Her fingers flew across the keyboard then she sat back, a satisfied grin curling the corners of her mouth.

  Derrick pushed away from the door and closed the distance between them. He reached down, snagged Lee's hand and pulled her to her feet. She came willingly, settled herself between his legs as he leaned against the edge of the desk. He dipped his head, caught her mouth with his, and kissed her. Deep. Slow. Thoroughly and completely.

  But not as completely as he wanted. Not here, in his office. They'd have to wait until later, when they were home.

  He broke the kiss with a low groan. Pure male satisfaction shot through him at the slightly dazed look on Lee's face. In her eyes—those big, gorgeous gray eyes that still took his breath away and always would.

  "Did you figure out whatever problem you were working on with that program?"

  "Hm?" She blinked and the dazed expression in her eyes cleared. She waved absently toward the computer and nodded. "Yes, of course. I figured that out as soon as I looked at it."

  Derrick bit back a smile, wondered if he should add humble to the list of his wife's traits. She'd appreciate the irony. "Then what were you so focused on?"

  "Oh, nothing important. Just, you know—" She waved her hand in the direction of the computer again, "—a little bug. Nothing more than an annoyance."

  "A bug?" His brows snapped low over his eyes as a little tingle of warning danced up his spine. "What kind of bug? Lee, what did you—"

  A frustrated roar echoed through the hallway, followed by the sound of pounding steps.

  "Dammit! Biggs!" Flare's voice, coming closer—and he wasn't calling for Derrick, either.

  A smirk of satisfaction spread across his wife's face. "He called Kelsey hormonal."

  Derrick bit down on the inside of his cheek and swallowed back a choked laugh. He didn't ask Lee what she'd done—he didn't need to know. Didn't want to know. All he knew was that he was damn glad she was on their side.

  "You can be a scary woman, do you know that?"

  Lee wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggled even closer as she tilted her head back. "Maybe. But you love me anyway."

  "Yeah, I do." He dipped his head, caught her mouth with his in a kiss filled with promises, both spoken and unspoken.

  With love.

  Always.

  ~ The End ~

  If you enjoyed The Warrior: DERRICK, I hope you'll take a few minutes to leave a review. Even a short one helps other readers discover my books—and it means so much to me! Thank you!

  If you missed the beginning of the Cover Six Security series, you can read it here in Covered By A Kiss, A Cover Six Security novella, available at your favorite digital retailers. />
  Mac and TR's story begins in the novella above, and continues in book one of the series, The Protector: MAC, available at your favorite digital retailers.

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  And be sure to keep an eye out for more information about the next title in the Cover Six Security series, The Rescuer: WOLF, available November 20 and now available for pre-order!

  The Rescuer: WOLF

  Cover Six Security Book 5

  These men never back away from danger—and always fall hard for love in Cover Six Security, an explosive new series from USA Today Bestselling Author Lisa B. Kamps.

  Sebastian "Wolf" Wood. Former soldier. Medic. Loveable, loyal...and lethal. He knows better than anyone that appearances can be deceiving and he has no problem exploiting his cover-model good looks to get what he wants, especially when it's for the success of a mission. He's done it before, he'll do it again—until the one mission where the tables get turned by a storybook beauty whose bite is worse than her bark and who leaves him trying to figure out what's real—and what's an illusion.

  Peyton Richards is getting a second chance at her big break—a chance most people would kill for. But her excitement at making a comeback is overshadowed by her irrational attraction to the man hired to watch over her—a man who looks like he'd be more at home on a California beach than as a bodyguard. A man who seems to relish butting heads and irritating her at every turn while stealing kisses that leave her breathless. A man who's entirely too comfortable in a glittering world where everyone is pretending to be someone else.

  When a publicity stunt goes terribly wrong and it becomes obvious that someone wants Peyton out of the picture—permanently—it's up to Sebastian to keep her safe. To do that, he needs to breach her defenses and show her that it's what you can't see that's real—and if he fails, it's only a matter of time before the game of fantasy and make-believe lures them into a nightmarish hell of lies, deceit...and death.

  Don't miss the next sizzling title in the Cover Six Security series, The Rescuer: WOLF--releasing November 20, 2019, and available for pre-order now.

  PLAYING THE GAME

  The York Bombers Book 1

  Harland Day knows what it's like to be on rock bottom: he was there once before, years ago when his mother walked out and left him behind. But he learned how to play the game and survived, crawling his way up with the help of a friend-turned-lover. This time is different: he has nobody to blame but himself for his trip to the bottom. His mouth, his attitude, his crappy play that landed him back in the minors instead of playing pro hockey with the Baltimore Banners. And this time, he doesn't have anyone to help him out, not when his own selfishness killed the most important relationship he ever had.

  Courtney Williams' life isn't glamorous or full of fame and fortune but she doesn't need those things to be happy. She of all people knows there are more important things in life. And, for the most part, she's been able to forget what could have been—until Harland gets reassigned to the York Bombers and shows back up in town, full of attitude designed to hide the man underneath. But the arrogant hockey player can't hide from her, the one person who knows him better than anyone else. They had been friends. They had been lovers. And then they had been torn apart by misunderstanding and betrayal.

  But some ties are hard to break. Can they look past what had been and move forward to what could be? Or will the sins of the past haunt them even now, all these years later?

  Turn the page for a preview of PLAYING THE GAME, the launch title of a brand-new hockey series, now available.

  The third drink was still in his hand, virtually untouched. He glanced down at it, briefly wondered if he should just put it down and walk away. It was still early, not even eleven yet. Maybe if he stuck it out for another hour; maybe if he finished this drink and let the whiskey loosen him up. Or maybe if he just paid attention to the girl draped along his side—

  Maybe.

  He swirled the glass in his hand and brought it to his mouth, taking a long sip of mostly melted ice. The girl next to him—what the fuck was her name?—pushed her body even closer, the swell of her barely-covered breast warm against the bare flesh of his arm.

  "So you're a hockey player, right? One of Zach's teammates?"

  Her breath held a hint of red wine, too sweet. Harland tried not to grimace, pushed the memories at bay as his stomach lurched. He tightened his grip on the glass—if he was too busy holding something, he couldn't put his arm around her or push her away—and glanced down. The girl looked like she was barely old enough to be in this place. A sliver of fright shot through him. They did card here, right? He wasn't about to be busted picking up someone underage, was he?

  She had a killer body, slim and lean with just enough muscle tone in her arms and legs to reassure him that she didn't starve herself and probably worked out. Long tanned legs that went on for miles and dainty feet shoved into shoes that had to have heels at least five inches tall. He grimaced and briefly wondered how the hell she was even standing in them.

  Of course, she was leaning against him, her full breasts pushing against his arm and chest. Maybe that was because she couldn't stand in those ridiculous heels. Heels like that weren't meant for walking—they were fuck-me heels, meant for the bedroom.

  He looked closer, at her platinum-streaked hair carefully crafted in a fuck-me style and held in place by what had to be a full can of hairspray—or whatever the fuck women used nowadays. Thick mascara coated her lashes, or maybe they weren't even her real lashes, now that he was actually looking. No, he doubted they were real. That was a shame because from what he could see, she had pretty eyes, kind of a smoky gray set off by the shimmery eyeshadow coloring her lids. Hell, maybe those eyes weren't even real, maybe they were just colored contacts.

  Fuck. Wasn't anything real anymore? Wasn't anyone who they really claimed to be? And why the fuck was he even worried about it when all he had to do was nod and smile and take her by the hand and lead her out? Something told him he wouldn't even have to bother with taking her home—or in his case, to a motel. No, he was pretty sure all he had to do was show her the backseat of his Expedition and that would be it.

  Her full lips turned down into a pout and Harland realized she was waiting for him to answer. Yeah, she had asked him a question. What the hell had she asked?

  Oh, yeah—

  "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I play hockey." He took another sip of the watery drink and glanced around the crowded club. Several of his teammates were scattered around the bar, their faces alternately lit and shadowed by the colored lights pulsing in time to the music.

  Jason pulled his tongue from some girl's throat long enough to motion to the mousy barmaid for a fresh drink. His gaze caught Harland's and a wide grin split his face when he nodded.

  Harland got the message loud and clear. How could he miss it, when the nod was toward the girl hanging all over him? Jason was congratulating him on hooking up, encouraging him to take the next step.

  Harland took another sip and looked away. Tension ran through him, as solid and real as the hand running along his chest. He looked down again, watched as slender fingers worked their way into his shirt. Nails scraped across the bare flesh of his chest, teasing him.

  Annoying him.

  He put the drink on the bar and reached for her hand, his fingers closing around her wrist to stop her. The girl looked up, a frown on her face. But she didn't move her hand away. No, she kept trying to reach for him instead.

  "What'd you say your name was?"

  "Does it matter?" Her lips tilted up into a seductive smile, full of heated promise as her
fingers wiggled against his chest.

  Did it matter? It shouldn't, not when all Harland had to do was smile back and release her hand and let her continue. Or take her hand and lead her outside. So why the fuck was he hesitating? Why didn't he do just that? That was why he came here, wasn't it? To let go. Loosen up. Hook up, get things out of his system.

  No. That may be why Jason and Zach and the others were here and why they brought him along—but that wasn't why he was here. So yeah, her name mattered. Maybe not to him, not in that sense. He just wanted to know she was interested in him and not what he did. That he wasn't just a trophy for her, a conquest to be bragged about to her friends in the morning.

  He gently tightened his hand around her wrist and pulled her arm away, out of reach of his chest. "Yeah. It matters."

  Something flashed in her eyes—surprise? Impatience? Hell if he knew. He watched her struggle with a frown, almost like she didn't want him to see it. Then she pasted another bright smile on her face, this one a little too forced, and pulled her arm from his grasp.

  "It's Shayla." She stepped even closer, running her hand along his chest and down, her finger tracing the waistband of his jeans.

  He almost didn't stop her. Temptation seized him, fisting his gut, searing his blood. It would be easy, so easy.

  Too easy.

  Then a memory of warm brown eyes, wide with innocence, came to mind. Clear, sharp and almost painful. Harland closed his eyes, his breath hitching in his chest as the picture in his mind grew, encompassing soft brown hair and perfect lips, curled in a trembling smile.

  "Fuck." His eyes shot open. He grabbed the girl's hand—Shayla's—just as she started to stroke him through the worn denim. Her own eyes narrowed and she made no attempt to hide her frown this time.

  "What are you doing?" Her voice was sharp, biting.