"Okay.” Surprise and hurt dulled his brown eyes.
"No, it's not okay. Dad's a mess. His life's ruined, and all for something he didn't do.” Her words rushed out before she could stop them.
"I'm sorry, Rachel.” Regret flitted across Derek's face, but regret about what exactly?
Rachel should've stayed on the sidelines, but her heart had gotten into the game and kept fumbling the ball. Ignoring her head's warnings, she called her own audibles. “I want to believe that."
He opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off. “Get the check, please. This interview is over."
Puzzled, he waved the waitress down and paid the check.
She'd fallen for him again, harder than ever, if she'd ever fallen out of love with him. Now the ball was in play, and she wished her head had blown the whistle.
If ever a play needed to be blown dead, it was this one.
A few hours later, Derek stared at a sleeping Rachel and tried to sort out his feelings. Right about now, he should feel the trap closing on him. He'd tied himself to her for the rest of the season in more ways than one.
And when the season ended, what if he wanted to fall in love with Rachel? Was he even capable of love? Love like his dad had with his stepmom? Love that overcame all odds, stood the test of time, and all that romantic crap he'd always blown off as nothing but bullshit. What if he was just flat-out fucking nuts?
Somewhere buried under all his false confidence was a frightened, lonely little boy who swore he would never put himself in a position to be hurt by someone he loved.
It'd taken him years to let his guard down enough to allow his stepmother into his heart. She'd been persistent and relentless in her campaign to become a part of his life. His sister had embraced her from the moment his father started dating her. Not Derek. He'd been polite but distant, always holding a part of himself away. But then, he still did, from everyone. Even with his family, the people he trusted most in his life, he still kept something inside.
If he succumbed to this particular brand of craziness, would the outcome be another broken heart for her and a heavier dose of guilt for him?
He didn't know if he had it in him. Not when he had football games to win and two hearts to protect—his and hers.
"I have a job-warming surprise for you."
Rachel glanced up from the computer as Derek walked into the makeshift office in his house. She studied the large sack he toted in from the garage.
"Job-warming?” She pointed at the bag. “For me?"
"Yeah.” He looked down like he was embarrassed, and shuffled his feet.
"What kind of surprise?"
"Since you've given up voyeurism, I wanted to make sure you continued your path down the road to sexual deviancy."
"I'm with you; doesn't that count?” Anticipation buzzed around her like a pesky fly.
"Hmmm. It's a start. But no, not good enough. Now if I was Tyler, it might be.” His dark eyes lit up from the inside out.
"Let's not go there. I don't sleep with men who measure their IQ by the length of their penises."
"You think I don't?"
"You might pretend to, but you're too smart for that.” She eyed him nervously as he placed a sack from the Sex Store on the desk in front of her. “What's in there?"
"I recall you mentioning something about being tied spread-eagled to a bed and taken advantage of."
"I recall you saying that, not me.” She pushed her chair back from the desk and stood, keeping a safe distance.
"Who said it is irrelevant. It was put out on the table, and I don't remember you protesting."
"I didn't.” She licked her lips. Her body started its pregame warm-ups. Moistness gathered between her legs. Her nipples hardened. Her heart rate spiked. All the usual stuff she experienced when this man walked into a room, and then some.
He apparently liked what he saw. “Good. Then let's get started.” He attacked with the speed of a veteran linebacker pitted against a rookie running back. In one swift motion, he tossed her over his shoulder, caveman style. She shrieked in surprise and pounded on his back, but he wouldn't let go.
"Grab the sack."
She snatched it on the way past. He hauled her butt to the bedroom and dumped her on his large four-poster bed.
Sitting up, she peeked in the bag. Her eyes grew big. Her naughty girl side rubbed its hands with eager glee. “I didn't know you were experienced in this sort of, uh, thing?"
He grinned. “I'm not, but we'll figure it out as we go. Improvisation is the game. And I can always punt."
"I don't have a clue what most of this stuff is for.” She bet he did.
"No peeking.” He snatched the bag from her hands.
Rachel sat on the edge of the bed and ran her gaze up his body. Long, muscled thighs, big bulge in his pants, wide chest, broad shoulders, firm jaw, sexy lips, smoldering brown eyes, short, dark hair. Everything just the way that naughty girl liked it—with one exception. “You're wearing too many clothes."
Derek broke a speed record stripping out of his clothes. His cock stood tall and proud like a warrior poised for battle. Giving her his back, he walked around the room, lighting large candles, then flipped off the light. Rachel admired his ass and the way the candlelight played on the contours of his back. He turned to her, lust and excitement darkening his brown eyes. “Your turn. Off with the clothes."
"You're certainly bossy all of a sudden."
"Honey, that's the name of the game. I'm in charge here. Surrender yourself to me."
Her mouth twitched with a suppressed smile. She should be scared or worried. She wasn't, not really. She trusted Derek. What little anxiety she felt had nothing to do with him and everything to do with her. Ripples of excitement shot through her at the unknown danger of it all.
She looked him up and down, taking her time to appreciate his hard body and harder cock. He watched her, not moving. Instead he stood even straighter and let her eyes take their fill of what he had to offer. Finally she rose to her feet.
"You've seen mine; now I want to see your body, Rachel."
"Why?” She lifted her chin and tilted her head at him.
His eyes lit up at her challenge. “Because I own it. Every square inch of skin, and I'm going to show you pleasure you've never known."
She couldn't wait. Taking off her clothes, she left them in a neat pile on the dresser. He made no attempt to touch her, though the blatant lust in his eyes showed his obvious desire.
Turning to his bag, he dug around and removed a pair of handcuffs. Her eyes grew bigger. “Oh wow."
"Trust me?"
"Uh, I do.” A little unsteady, she held her hands out to him, and he snapped on one cuff.
"Okay, sweetheart, back on the bed."
She lay down on the bed. He pulled her hands over her head, wrapped the empty cuff around the bed post, and attached it to the other wrist.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine.” She squirmed a little, her hands shackled over her head. He moved to the bottom of the bed and slipped a soft, fat rope around an ankle, then tied the ankle to the bedpost. He repeated the process with the other leg, then stood back and admired his handiwork. Rachel squirmed again. She was dripping wet and swore she'd come if he even touched her for a moment.
"Are you sure you've never done this before?” She tested her bonds, but they held fast.
"Positive.” He reached in his bag of tricks and treats and pulled out a red and green vibrator.
"Red and green?"
"Hey, ‘tis the season. At least, almost.” He climbed on the bed between her legs and bent his dark head low. She shuddered as his warm breath skated across her knee. His stubble rubbed her sensitive thighs. Moaning, Rachel pulled against her restraints. He parted her pussy lips and slid his tongue inside.
"Oh. Oh. Oh, Dare."
He lifted his head. “You're pretty wet, baby."
No joke, the evidence was on his face. “You do that to me."
His head disappeared between her legs again, and his tongue and mouth resumed their raid of her defenseless body. He lapped at her juices, thrust his tongue deep. As he withdrew, he ran it upward to her clit, toyed with the nub, and repeated the unbearable torture.
Rachel thrashed on the bed, helpless to stop him or, even better, entice him to go further. She moaned, begged for mercy, but the bastard withdrew and sat back on his haunches. She lifted up her head.
"Don't you dare quit now,” she panted.
"Who's in charge here?” He flicked on the red and green vibrator and held it up for her inspection.
"That's pretty large."
"The better to pleasure you with, my dear.” He wiped his mouth on his arm.
Derek pressed the vibrator against her wet entrance and traced a path to her clit and back. Pausing at her opening, he rotated the purring device like a corkscrew. Going slow, she felt it moving deeper bit by bit. It felt cool at first, but her hot body warmed it in a few seconds. It pulsed inside her, charging her with sexual energy and driving her wild. Rachel bucked her hips in an attempt to take more and more of it. She demanded he give it to her, not that her body was in any position to demand anything. He took pity and slid it deeper. His thumb grazed her clit. Lord, she loved a man who aimed to please.
Derek moved the device in and out of her like a well-oiled piston and established a rhythm. She attempted to increase the speed by moving her hips forward and back and straining against her restraints.
"Damn, you've got great tits.” He watched as they bobbed up and down with each thrust of her hips. Rachel glared at him. He grinned back.
"I can't take much more of this.” Her body quivered. Her hips jerked against the mattress. Her arms strained to touch him, give back a little of the torture he'd inflicted on her.
"Then I'm doing my job."
She tossed her head from side to side and shuddered. He pulled the vibrator out. Rachel struggled, so close to coming, and the male tease had removed her stimulation. She couldn't take care of herself because of the restraints.
"Put that back."
"I don't think so, darling.” He faked a southern drawl.
"Well, sugar pie, you'd better give me some satisfaction soon or I'll have your little bitty hide when you turn me loose.” Damn him. She'd been so close to coming. Again. And he kept pulling the plug.
"Who says I'm turning you loose?"
"Derek.” She pleaded for mercy. He didn't blink.
"Rae. I have more toys we haven't used yet."
"I'm tying you up next time."
"I can't wait."
"And I can't win, can I?"
"Oh, you will tonight. We both will.” He dug in the bag and pulled out another toy.
"What is that?"
"I think they call it a flogger."
"Derek, you wouldn't...” The thing had a handle with several leather straps about a foot long.
"Honey, I don't have to inflict pain to make you scream.” Standing, he slid the flogger over one breast, letting it feather over the swell of it. It slid across her nipples, into the valley between them. Then up to the other breast. He circled her nipple with the lashes. She shut her eyes. It felt so darn good. She did want to scream. The lashes stroked her breasts, over and over.
He journeyed down her body, dragging it across her belly button to her already sensitized pussy. He skimmed it over her crotch, slowly and deliberately. It caught in her wetness and slid between her pussy lips, causing sweet and slow torment. Turning it around, he rubbed her most sensitive spot with the butt of the whip. She fought for control and lost it. Screaming, she thrashed about on the bed, strained against her restraints. Her world dissolved, fragmented, flew apart. She came in waves, over and over.
He watched, way too smug, as she dissolved into a quivering mass of spent and sated woman.
Okay, so she'd asked for this. That didn't mean he needed to listen. For once it would've been nice if he'd done the typical guy thing and not listened. But no, when it came to sex, men actually opened their ears. Not that she was complaining.
"So what else is in your bag of tricks?” She was a sucker for asking. Her chest heaved. Her eyes fluttered shut. Her body melted into the sheets.
"A little out of breath, aren't we?"
Her eyes snapped open. “You are evil."
"And you love every deviant minute of it."
She didn't deny the obvious. “Do I get a turn?"
"Not this time. I planned this fantasy; I get to control it."
Rachel took a deep breath and let it out. She felt spineless, loose, and relaxed. She doubted that'd last long. He'd build her back to a frenzy in no time.
He moved between her legs, parting her pussy lips and sliding his tongue inside. He thrust in and out, then sucked on her clit. Without looking up, he felt for the vibrator, switched it on, and inserted it. Rachel's eyes rolled back in her head, and she pushed against it, trying to drive it deeper.
Just when she honestly thought she could take no more, he pulled out the vibrator and lifted his head. His breath came in short, shallow bursts. His dark eyes reflected the depth of his arousal. A fine sheen of sweat covered his muscled chest.
He slid up her body and kissed her with passion and a burning fever. She writhed underneath him, teasing his cock.
With one hard thrust, he buried himself deep. Rachel moaned and nipped his earlobe, rocking back and forth in an attempt to satisfy them both. He pulled out and thrust harder, deeper. She met his thrusts the best she could, considering her restraints.
Rachel closed her eyes and savored the moment. He filled her, not just physically but emotionally. She felt him, the real person under all the layers of complexity. She knew his insecurities, his weaknesses, his strengths, and his good points.
Helpless as she was, she should feel anxiety or nervousness. She didn't. She trusted this man with her body. He'd never hurt her physically. Now emotionally, that was another story. A story she refused to dwell on because right now, right here, in this place of feeling warm, she felt loved. Even if it was an illusion, she'd take it because it was all she had.
She arched to meet him as his thrusts built in frequency and passion. Just as she teetered on the edge, he came, his seed filling her. She blew into a million pieces and scattered into the wind, floating without care or concern.
In this place and time, she'd been so well loved.
They must have fallen asleep. Rachel woke first, her aching arms still tied over her head. She squirmed and tried to knee the man snoring softly beside her. He had one long, muscular leg straddled across her thigh. She bumped him again.
He stirred but didn't wake.
"Derek? Derek! Dare, turn me lose!"
Derek opened one eye and yawned. “Hmmmm?"
"You've had your fun, big guy. Untie me."
He stretched and checked the bedside clock. “Untie you?"
"Yes. Please."
He stretched and yawned, shut his eyes.
"Untie me!"
He opened his brown eyes. “I like you like that. All spread and ready for action. Mine for the taking.” He rolled onto his side, propped his head on his hand. He assessed her naked body with a slow smile. Leaning forward, he tasted the creamy skin on her breasts. She squirmed, already wet and tingly.
"Then either take me or release me."
"I don't think you're in a position to be demanding."
"I don't think you're in a position to refuse my demands.” She directed her gaze to his hard cock.
"You have a point.” He straddled her. His erection pressed against her crotch. He slid inside her slick opening and met her demands.
Several minutes later, he fumbled with the handcuff key and finally removed her bindings. Then he untied her feet. Rachel rubbed her wrists, getting the circulation back into them. Derek rubbed her ankles.
"Bondage turns you on, doesn't it?” Rachel ran a hand across his washboard stomach.
"You turn me on.” He sprawled on th
e bed, his long limbs spread in four directions.
"Next time I get to have my way with you."
"Hit me with your best shot, baby. My body is yours."
"Why did I think you'd say that?"
"Because it's true."
Now if only his heart was hers, and she was in a position to accept it.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Twenty-five
Thrown for a Loss
Flipping fate the finger, Ryan gritted his teeth and wheeled his ride through the stadium gate and toward the sidelines. The guy who said life wasn't fair knew what he was talking about. Life sucked at times, but death sucked worse.
Wiped and almost whipped, he'd refused Andre's offer to push him. A guy had his pride even though it came with a price. He panted harder than the class nerd after bagging the Homecoming Queen. His shoulders ached, and his arms, once strong enough to bench-press his weight and more, shook from the effort.
Mara, a former girlfriend, fell into step beside him and chattered about nonsense. He kept his silence and stared straight ahead. She didn't notice. Her familiar scent wafted toward him, reminding him of wild times and late nights in his beat-up truck. Mara had a hot body and knew how to use it, but she didn't use it on him anymore. As soon as cancer destroyed his jock status, she'd dumped him for a hotshot quarterback from a neighboring school.
Not that it mattered; he couldn't perform anyway, on or off the field. His days as a jock were long gone, not that he'd ever been a typical jock. Even during the best of times, he'd prided himself on being a nice guy. Everyone liked him, even his ex-girlfriends, which said a lot. Derek Ramsey wore the same nice-guy suit, which explained why Ryan felt an affinity for him.
Mara tossed her blonde hair and stared down at him as if waiting for a response. He faked a smile, hoping he wasn't agreeing to her hair looking like crap or some other trivial bullshit. Duty fulfilled and conscience eased, she waved good-bye and bounced off to join her girlfriends. She couldn't wait to get away from him, almost as if he were contagious.
He tried not to let it hurt. But it did. The sicker he got, the more people avoided him, even his mother. And he was sick. Really sick. The cancer in his body was winning. It was third and goal, no time-outs left, and the clock was running out. Tonight the disease slammed him down hard, but he fought it. He was here for his team, his buddies, his coaches. Winning this play-off game would put them in the state finals and one win from the state championship. He might be sidelined, but he still had a few trick plays left in him. Cancer had sacked his dreams, but it damn well wouldn't cheat him out of living vicariously through his team and being there every step of the way. It wasn't over till it was over.
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