by Leanne Davis
He finally stopped dead and hid his hands in the pockets of his dark jacket. He stared at his shoes. “I have never been with a girl before.”
She sucked in a breath and her eyes froze on his head, since his face was still turned down. “I guess, technically I’ve had sex, but I’ve never connected with anyone before. It was like what you probably witnessed in the bathroom. It was as cold and impersonal as that appeared to you. I felt nothing before. I didn’t even care. Until I met you, I didn’t know I wanted anything different. You just look at me differently. You don’t see what’s before you; you see what you want to see. And what you want to see is naive and innocent and good. You see everything you are. What you’re so worried about me not liking is everything I like about you. That’s what made me take a second look at you.”
“Yes, but you’ll get bored with me in a week or two, maybe a month.”
His shoulders slumped forward. “It doesn’t feel that way to me. Remember last weekend? It was like nothing I’ve ever done before. It—”
He shook his head and swore. She stepped a foot closer, suddenly drawn in by his deep tone and candid words. His confusion was endearing. He was one hundred percent sincere, although at times, she wasn’t totally convinced of it. She couldn’t say why, but she wasn’t.
“It… what?” she finally prompted when she stood only a few inches away from him. His head rose and his eyes burned into her like embers of coal.
“It was the first time I’d ever been with a girl.” He shrugged and threw up his hands. A blush covered his face and he grimaced as if to say it was lame, when it was so much more than anyone had ever confided in her.
“It was literally the first time I’ve been with a guy.”
“I got that. But you still know more about it than I do.”
“How do you figure that?”
“I can’t—I’m not sure I know how to care about anyone.”
She didn’t know what to say. “What do you mean? Anyone?”
He started pacing. “My family life was all shit. Okay? I don’t know anything about the stuff you talk about. Loving parents and goodness and living in a happy home. I didn’t have it. I’ve never had it.”
“You don’t have any family?”
“Well, technically, I do.”
“Derek? What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, when I tell you to run as far away from me as you can, I mean it. You need to listen and obey me. I can’t push you there, because I’ve never wanted anyone or anything as much as I already want you.”
She stepped back. His darkened gaze and the stark look in his eyes made a tremor slide up her back with a shudder. They were so young. Everything was new. They were supposed to be having fun. How could he become so intense? How could she resist being drawn to it?
“I don’t go to college.”
She jerked her head back. “What do you mean? You were there.”
“I was talking to Carter, and then I saw you, and you assumed I was going there… but all I wanted was to see you again.”
Her mouth dropped open before she shook her head. “So you lied to me? All this time? You lied about taking a class you’re not even signed up for? You’re not even attending that college?”
“Yeah,” he sneered, “and at the time, I didn’t even think it was wrong.”
“But it is. That’s a really shitty thing to do. You played me for a fool.”
“It was a way to get to you. I go after what I want.”
“No matter what, huh? Be warned? Isn’t that what you were saying to me?”
“It was. And then I spent more than five minutes with you.”
“And so what? You realized I’m a complete dork, not just the socially awkward wallflower you thought I was?”
He stepped closer and his eyes searched her face. His expression looked strange, almost lost. “I saw this kind, sweet, amazing, and very talented girl. Now, all I can see is the harm I would bring you, and yet, I want you even more now.”
She didn’t know what to say. He lied. Turning, she threw herself into the passenger seat. She crossed her arms and tucked in the coat he left there over her knees. He finally came around to the driver’s side and got in. “You want me to take you back to the dorm?”
“I want you to show me where you live.”
He gripped the steering wheel and didn’t comment, but stared hard out the windshield at the dark parking lot. He flexed his fingers. “I don’t want to show you.”
“You’ve lied to me. I want to see something that’s real.”
He suddenly turned towards her, leaned across the console, and kissed her. When he pulled back, she was again turning red. A strong desire to gulp in a breath of fresh air to calm her accelerated heartbeat was her only thought. “All I see, and all that ever mattered a fuck to me, is you.”
“You don’t even know me,” she whispered. His drama was intoxicating. So easy to get caught up in. But it was also too early in their relationship.
“No. You don’t know me.”
“I don’t know you yet. It was shitty thing to do. And for no real good reason.”
“The reason was to see you. It’s about the only really good reason I’ve had for anything I’ve ever done. Olivia,” He leaned his head closer and rested his forehead on hers, “I’m sorry.”
His confession sounded almost as if he were strangling. It seemed far more significant than just lying about being a college student in a class with her.
“I don’t like to look stupid.”
“You’re not stupid. Everything about me is stupid.” His jaw was clenched as he finally clicked the ignition and the engine roared. “Let me know when you figure that out.”
Chapter Seven
HE COULD NOT FATHOM willingly taking Olivia to see his hovel. It could possibly reveal exactly what he was. And what she was getting into. He prayed she’d run the other way from him. He also prayed she’d never leave him. He glanced over and saw she was quiet now, staring out the passenger window and watching the streets and alleys as they passed by. The city sprawled on endlessly for miles and miles. Moving away from the end of town where her school was located, there was little to gaze at that was appealing.
Why did he decide to take her to a freaking club? It was everything she wasn’t. He didn’t even realize how true that was until she was in there. Why did he do that? There were a dozen different people who could tell Olivia exactly who and what he was. Isn’t that what he was hoping to happen? And why he nearly dared Kylie to warn Olivia to stay clear of him? Perhaps strangers could do what he didn’t have the guts to do and save Olivia from him.
Damn Kylie! Why did she think she needed to change Olivia? In the club, she looked like all those other girls, yet he knew her heart, brain and emotions were miles above any of them.
All the sex, drug deals and illegal drugs being used really upset her. What would she think if she only knew a drug dealer, which she so feared, was sitting right next to her? Right there! And escorting her around. Naturally, he was very popular since people wanted to buy shit from him.
The only thing he accomplished tonight was staking a claim on Olivia. No one would bother her. Not unless they wanted to mess around with Quentrell. Although Derek wasn’t anything tough, or forceful, or scary, his association with Quentrell was. He imagined her surprise at hearing the couple having sex in the bathroom, not to mention, the drugs, and ran a hand through his hair before he nearly shuddered with revulsion. She was too good to be ogled by ordinary jerk-offs like himself. She was too special to be sitting next to a drug dealer.
He thought she’d be done with him. He told her only one truth. The very one he thought would drive her away from him, and certainly not result in her asking to visit his apartment.
He pulled into the darkened warehouse. The rear area still had loading docks and abandoned factory parts. The front had been converted into several apartments. He rented the top one. It had cavernous ceilings and very few walls. The bedroom
was loft-like and the bathroom was the only room with a door. He stared up at it in contemplation.
“I didn’t expect you to come here.”
“This is it? For real?”
“Yeah.”
She nodded and got out. He followed her and didn’t miss all the twitching and yanking on her far too-short skirt. It was so high, it almost showed a butt cheek. She was thin so she managed to carry if off better than most, but never quit tugging at it or readjusting it.
He unlocked the door to the foyer. They went up the dark, metal steps that groaned and clanked as they ascended. She grew quiet and watched as he eventually undid the lock of the metal door that separated his place from the rest. He liked the metal door because it was hard to kick in. The place was a freaking fortress. As much of a stronghold as he could create.
He opened the heavy, wide door and it swung slowly. He waited for her to come through before he shut it behind her and locked it. She didn’t say a word. Her gaze started at the left and took in the entire structure. It was cold and drafty with high, clerestory windows at the top, and a few peppered around low enough to see out of. His furniture was shitty, old crap he found on the street and picked up. The kitchen featured an assortment of abused appliances and scarred counters.
“Do you really live alone?”
He dropped his keys and crossed his arms over his chest. “I really do.”
“How can you afford it?”
“It’s crap, so it’s pretty cheap. I told you, remember? The pharmacy?”
“Right.” She searched the room some more and stepped forward before examining his stuff more closely.
“Sometimes, my brother crashes here.”
She whipped her head around, looking surprised. “Brother?”
“Yeah, Max. He just turned thirteen. He’s a handful, and gets into a lot of trouble. He crashes here sometimes.”
She picked up a sweatshirt that was draped over the back of a kitchen chair. “Can I wear this?”
He nodded and she ducked into it, covering the small tank top. It fit her as well as her own did. “Will you tell me something about yourself now?”
He closed his eyes and rubbed a hand on his neck. “You get, I take it, that there aren’t any nice doctor moms or Army soldier dads in my upbringing, right? You see that?”
“I see that,” she said in a serious, soft tone. “What happened to your dad?”
His stomach cramped at her direct question and inquisitive look. He walked over and dropped onto the saggy couch. Staring at his shoes, he replied, “He was shot. And while committing a crime.”
“By the police?”
“No. By some stupid, scared kid.”
She gasped as she came over and sat down next to him. He saw her boots in his peripheral view. “He was murdered?”
“Yes. Murdered.”
“How old were you?”
“Eight. Just eight years old when my father was shot and killed.”
“Did they ever catch who did it?”
“Who? The cops? No. No one went to jail for it either.”
“And your mom?”
He didn’t want to talk about it. It was already more than he’d ever told anyone on purpose. Even Max and he never really discussed any of it. Max often showed up and stayed for days on end before leaving again without a word. He rarely talked, only a few monosyllabic words. Max frequently appeared with black eyes and bruises, but refused to answer when Derek pried or asked him how it happened. Derek finally gave up his quest for information and just let Max crash there whenever he needed to. He assumed Max went back home to their mom’s apartment in between. He couldn’t say for sure. He was just as crappy an older brother as he was a person. He wasn’t even a good drug dealer. He could have had five times as many clients if he only networked. Or put an ounce of effort and enterprise into it. But he didn’t want to.
“My mom isn’t someone that I have fond memories of.”
“Meaning?”
“She’s a shitty mother, okay? I left home when I was sixteen and I never went back.” His tone sounded testy and rude.
He held his breath, expecting her to get up and leave him and the trashy, broken mess that he called his life. But he looked down when he felt a heavy weight on his hand. Her hand was lying on his. “It’s isn’t okay. Whatever she did that made you leave. But you don’t have tell me anymore right now.”
He almost begged her to insist that he tell her. He could give her all the answers and end this fiasco right here and now. But when he thought of her walking out, his skin grew itchy and his stomach tightened with revulsion. Nothing was good or felt good. Nothing except Olivia’s soft, warm hand on his. And Olivia’s body next to his. Her head was leaning against his shoulder. He didn’t care what the hell she was wearing, her presence alone mattered more than anything else.
He turned and caught his mouth on hers. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and ruined by showing her glimpses of his life. He hated every part of it. Except for meeting her.
He kissed her mouth for several minutes before his tongue touched her lips and she eagerly opened her mouth for him. He leaned into the kiss, his hands clutching her shoulders as he tried to absorb her heat and goodness. He leaned so hard on her, she fell back on his couch; then he took advantage by pinning her under him. Her legs shifted so he was between them. Her skirt rode up, and his t-shirt was even longer than the skirt. Her slim, white legs were resting on his sides and he slid his hands slowly down their smooth lengths. He leaned back far enough to look at her face. She was so sexy and fresh and open and innocent. Too much sharing. Too much skimpy outfit all night.
Far too easily, he forgot she was different and better. He shouldn’t have groped her like that; but suddenly, all he wanted to do was grope her, despite her innocence. It only further enhanced her sexiness. That quick, he knocked her off the pedestal he intended to keep her on. The one where she remained different from every other girl he’d ever known.
They kissed on and on and his entire body burned with invisible flames. His dick was so hard, he had to grind it against her. She sighed and lifted her arms around his shoulders before gasping. She let him have her, and that’s what got to him; she let him touch her.
“Let me touch you,” he mumbled as his lips moved to her cheek and neck and jaw. “You feel so good.”
She didn’t protest. His hand was already on her thigh. He lifted his pelvis off her and dropped his fingertips to the seam of her panties. They were slightly damp and he could see her dark pubic hair through them. She didn’t shave anything. He pressed his fingers on her, and she gasped and lifted her head and torso off the couch. Her thighs strained when he ran his hand up and down the seam. He wanted to evoke a visible reaction and he did. Her eyes fluttered back and her head tilted as if she were offering him more access. He leaned down and placed his mouth on a nipple, but through the shirt material. He bit gently and she moaned in surprise. Sliding his hand to the side of her underwear, he finally touched her wet fold. He barely grazed it. Then he set his fingertips there and nearly groaned out loud.
“Derek?” Her tone sounded unsure. She must’ve changed her mind. For some reason, that had to be it.
He heard his name, but his eyes were shut and he didn’t want to open them. He didn’t want her to tell him no. He didn’t want to stop. He wanted to touch her and fill her up with him. He wanted to see her naked and panting. He wanted her so much, he almost couldn’t open his eyes.
“What?” he finally asked as he lifted his mouth off her. “You want to stop?”
She bit her lip and finally nodded. He slipped his hand out of her underwear and stared down at her as she tried to shift around and close her legs. He sighed with disappointment. He was so hard, he almost touched himself, but somehow, managed to resist the urge. She probably would’ve started crying if he jerked off in front of her.
He slid off her as she swung her legs to the ground. He rubbed his palm to his forehead and tried to breathe regularly in a
n effort to control the raging hormones pumping through him. Silence made it even more awkward between them as she shuffled around next to him. How long did he get to touch her? A few seconds at most? That wasn’t exactly fun. The whole virgin thing. At first, it seemed intriguing and something he could feasibly conquer. In fact, at first, that was all he wanted from her, a stolen caress of her underwear. But now? All he wanted now, and more than anything else in his pointless existence, was to finish the act with Olivia.
What now? How do you resolve things when you were almost ready to have sex and then you don’t? He didn’t know. He’d never hung out with any girl long enough to learn. Sure, there were always women around Quentrell’s place, but he didn’t sit around talking to them. The longest he’d ever been on a date was tonight.
Damn! A date. He glanced at her finally. Why didn’t he just do that, and take Olivia out to dinner tonight? He felt lost, like an empty life raft accidentally released from an ocean liner. He just didn’t know what to do with a normal girl. Okay, more accurately, with any girl. The few girls he used for sex came on to him and he simply reciprocated. He had no idea what to do to initiate anything. He was ashamed and blistering heat colored his cheeks. He’d done all of this wrong, and now? He’d almost taken advantage of her. And he didn’t intend to ever take advantage of her. He didn’t want to. Not Olivia.
Her solemn gaze met his without flinching. She could be so bold at times, and at others, a little, innocent school girl. He straightened up and leaned back with a big sigh. “Why are you acting so tragic?”
He turned fully. “Excuse me?”
“Why are you looking at me as if something completely tragic just occurred?”
He shook his head and knotted his hands together. “I should have stopped. I should never have taken you to that club, or brought you here. I should have, you know, taken you to dinner. On a date. A—”
She scooted closer to him. “You did stop.”
Didn’t she see the dangerous position she was putting herself in with him? He pressed his knuckles between his eyes. Why was she so damn optimistic? Blind? Naive? Faced with every signal to repel her, what was she doing here still? Why didn’t she get how bad he was? So, so bad a person? Evil, really.