by Kade Charest
Focusing completely on calming herself down, Taylor missed a step of the stairs and started to fall, her head getting closer to the edge. She tried to steady herself, but the pool water wouldn’t comply and stay still, she panicked and thrashed.
Then suddenly she was upright and pressed against something hard. She looked up at Derrick, and he looked down at her. Her chest was up against his rock-hard pecs, and as her body felt the entire length of him, she noticed other things were rock hard too: his stomach, his legs, and his cock.
“You okay?” Derrick asked, his voice a whisper. He swallowed after he got the words out.
Taylor could only nod back, still gazing up at him. Her body was firmly planted, and she could not find the energy to push herself away from him. Her mind had obviously taken a siesta and released her raging hormones on the way because she could only think about staying close to him.
Derrick wasn’t pushing away either. He kept his hold tight on Taylor, despite her being safely on the ground now. Taylor knew she should tell him to let her go, but the words wouldn’t come out. Hell, she was having a hard enough time getting the air out.
Derrick was watching her intently, looking into her eyes, and Taylor stared right back. They were unmoving, and then Derrick’s eyes slipped briefly to Taylor’s lips, and his tongue came out and licks his top lip as his eyes slid quickly back up to hers.
Her mind signed off, and her body took over as she pulled Derrick’s face roughly to hers.
Chapter Nine
It had been refreshing to see Taylor laugh and look so carefree. Derrick thought he was in heaven as he saw her laughing and relaxing with him.
But he was wrong.
He had never been so happy to see someone fall in his life. His body went instantly tense when he brought Taylor up against him so she didn’t hit her head. She molded to him, and he was trying to will himself to let her go when he saw how she was looking at him.
Like she was starved and he was cake.
The heavens opened, and angels sang, and Derrick was ready to kiss her. But he waited. He didn’t want her to hate him for mauling her. He needed her to make the decision. And it was killing him, both the waiting and the realization that she might walk away.
Suddenly Taylor yanked his head down to hers and crushed her lips to his, and all of Derrick’s restraint snapped. He must have used it all on holding back, because now he was only moving forward. His tongue slid through her parted lips and caressed her. He felt Taylor respond instantly, sliding her tongue against his, her fingers sliding up to his hair and holding on.
Derrick groaned and tightened his grip on Taylor, lifting her feet slightly and pushing her through the water to the closest pool wall. His body begged to be closer to Taylor, his cock straining against his soaked jeans, and this was the best he could do. As his tongue twisted and explored her, massaging against her, Taylor moaned and the vibrations raked though his body. He ached so much. He leaned into her and moved to bring Taylor’s legs up, to get himself closer, but she was already moving one up, pulling him in with her foot against him. Derrick hastened the process and pulled both her legs around his waist and pushed himself into her, moving, creating friction that was unbelievable and painful and just … wow.
As Derrick rubbed against her, the sweet massage slowly tortured them. Taylor gasped, and her head fell back against the edge of the pool. Derrick kissed down her face and neck. Taylor moaned and flexed her hips against him as Derrick hit the base of her neck and sucked.
Flicking his eyes up, Derrick watched Taylor, her rapid breathing, her mouth open trying to draw in everything that she could, and her eyes shut. She looked abandoned. Derrick kissed his way back up, still rocking against her. He took her mouth again, nipping at her lip as he made his way in.
“Look at me,” he said against her lips. She looked like a goddess, but last time they had been like this she had pushed him away. He wanted her to be aware of everything that was happening. He didn’t want her to be able to deny their attraction existed.
She didn’t comply at first. Derrick moved a hand up to her hair. “Taylor,” he said against her lips, nipping a little harder this time. “Look at me,” he demanded, tugging her back gently, and then he was trapped in her aquamarine stare. “You with me?” he asked hoarsely, as he continued to rock and rub against her core.
She shuddered, swallowed, and nodded, her mouth still open and her breathing just as quick as his. Her body said yes, her nod assured him, but he needed her words. He did not want her to come around in a horrified shock like she had yesterday.
“Tell me,” he demanded, stopping his body. He ached to keep moving, but he didn’t want her to be anything but clear with him. If she was as hot as he was right now, he would get it.
“I’m with you,” she breathed out, and Derrick almost didn’t hear it.
But since he did, he launched right back to rocking his hips into hers. He covered her mouth with his again. He had felt frantic before, but now he moved with crazed purpose. He brought a hand up to her breast, her nipple hard beneath the wet of her shirt. Slowly he moved his thumb over it, and then he pinched it lightly. Taylor leaned into him, whimpering as he plucked at her nipple. She flexed her hips into his, and Derrick slid both hands under her shirts.
“Derrick?”
The sound of his name on her lips was enough to make him come right there. “Tay,” he whispered back to her. He wanted to get her out of the pool, but this moment was too perfect.
Then Taylor spoke again.
“Stop.”
Derrick stilled the instant the word fell from her lips.
His hands were still on her bare breasts, his groin was still pressed against hers, and his mouth still hovered over hers, but he was stock-still.
She wanted to say forget it, or that she was kidding. She wanted to beg him to continue on, to make all the pleasure sizzling in her body explode like it had just been on the cusp of doing. Just a couple of more rubs of his hard length against her clit in the pool and she knew she was going to orgasm. But something had stopped her: her conscience.
She had been spouting off about this not being anything real, about trying to not marry him, about how this whole thing was ridiculous and unfair, and now she had been in two compromising situations with him.
Holy mixed signals, Batman.
Derrick dropped his head to her shoulder and took several deep breaths. His body remained hard as stone, moving only as he took a breath.
“I’m sorry,” Taylor said, because she was. “I—”
Derrick shook his head. “It’s fine,” he croaked. But Taylor could tell it definitely wasn’t.
“Do you want—”
“I just need a minute,” he said. Taylor noticed his body was shaking a little. To her it felt like the quake of unfulfillment she had raging through her. Guilt flooded her.
Derrick slid his body across Taylor and plastered himself to an empty space of the pool wall just to her right. Putting his elbows on the pool edge, Derrick dropped his head into his hands. He looked awful.
“Derrick, should I—”
“Go get dried off, Tay. I’m fine,” he groaned. “I just need a minute.”
The heavy weight Taylor had on her shoulders was even worse now than before. “I’m sorry Derrick, I just don’t—”
“Taylor, go,” he barked at her.
“Okay,” Taylor whispered and made her way from the pool as quickly as she could. She worried about leaving him in the pool as she grabbed a towel brought by one of the Fletcher ninja staff. But as she walked away, she remembered that the giant blue balls she left him with would keep him afloat.
Derrick tortured himself a little more as he watched Taylor walk away. He groaned in sweet agony as his balls twitched, waiting for the release they had been promised but not received. The cold water he was currently submerged in was doing nothing to settle them.
“What the fuck?” he muttered as he rewound what had just happened. He’d made
sure she was on board this time, he freaking asked her specifically! As he went over it again and again, he made no headway in getting to the root of the problem, but he did make his balls increasingly sore from replaying it all.
Pushing away from the wall with a grunt, Derrick slogged up the pool steps and walked over to the pool house. Apparently the hand job he had given himself this morning wasn’t his last one for the day.
Chapter Ten
Taylor had so many decisions to make ahead of her, but the thing that was weighing the heaviest on her mind was what the hell she was doing with Derrick. Their situation was complicated, and she wasn’t sure how to begin to make it more clear-cut. The whole fake engagement thing really blurred the lines. She was making her way down the long corridor, trying not to remember what she had just walked away from—because she wasn’t sure if she was happy, sad, or angry to leave it behind—when Marty came from out of nowhere and grabbed her.
“Come with me!” she said excitedly, jumping up and down while holding Taylor’s arms, and then pulled her down the hall to Marty’s room. Taylor noticed two house staff members were making their way up the stairs, weighed down with multiple designer labeled bags. Taylor looked at Marty, mouth hanging open.
“I just couldn’t help myself,” Marty answered.
“Maybe I should dry off first,” Taylor said, trying to pull away.
“You can do that in my room!” Marty squealed.
About two hours and a zillion power outfits later, Taylor was in the suit. They had tried on light and dark, pants, skirts and dresses, and finally they found one. It fit Taylor perfectly, and when she turned to see herself in the mirror, she literally had to blink to realize it was her. They had gone through tons of different styles along the way. The skirt they settled on was tightly fitted, the shirt was a sleeveless blouse that was encased within the high waist of the skirt, and it had simple ruffling around the center buttons. The skirt was gray, the shirt was plum, and the whole thing made Taylor feel powerful. At first Taylor had said she was worried wearing a skirt would be a bad idea, that pants would be a more powerful choice, but this skirt communicated power and commanded attention. Or maybe it was the way Taylor wore it and how she felt in it, because she certainly felt powerful.
Marty flitted around, picking up this jacket and that bag, and finally came over with a large black-handled bag and a gray tufted-waist blazer. “Okay, so I know you aren’t really comfy in heels, so these flats …”
“No, I need heels,” Taylor cut Marty off with her words but never took her eyes off herself in the mirror. She had never in her life worn anything that made her feel so grown up, powerful, and, well, sexy.
Marty looked up at Taylor’s quick reaction, and her eyes widened. “Whoa,” she said softly, her eyes also glued to the mirror. “Oh yeah, you need the Louboutins,” she said, turning and throwing herself back into the bag mountain until she came up victorious with yet another bag.
“Lou who?” Taylor asked.
Marty let out an exasperated sigh for the umpteenth time since she and Taylor had been together. Taylor’s lack of fashion knowledge was both upsetting and irritating to Marty, and she made sure that was all very clear to Taylor. “Damn it, Taylor, where the hell were you? They haven’t heard of Louboutin on the East Coast? Only one of the most fabulous shoe designers ever to exist!”
The shoes that came out of the bag looked like just ordinary black heels with a pointed toe. The sole of the shoe was a brilliant red, but Taylor was thinking they didn’t look very amazing. They just looked like they were going to hurt.
And then she put them on.
The shoes were like pillows on her feet, and Taylor was certain angels sang around her as her feet thanked her for giving them such a wonderful gift. Taylor was feeling pretty awesome before, but the shoes completed the whole thing, making her feel outrageously fantastically supercalifragilistically awesome.
Marty stood up from Taylor’s feet and smooth and primped her way to standing and then looked in the mirror again beside Taylor. “Oh fuck yeah,” she said and then broke out into a grin and clapped her hands. “You not only show power, you command it in this outfit,” she said, confirming Taylor’s own thoughts. “Crazy how you were so set on pants and flats, and the complete opposite is what was perfect,” she said, laughing.
Taylor was nodding along but was still transfixed by her reflection because the person looking back at her was not the girl she felt herself to be. The person staring back wasn’t a girl at all but a woman, a woman who possessed power and was confident to use it. A woman who knew that she held Preston Corp. and its future in her hands and was able to handle it with just her pinky.
“You are going to slide into that new whole president of Preston with no issue looking like this,” Marty said. “Now jewelry …”
Suddenly the door to the room sprang open and Derrick sauntered in, eyes glued to his phone. “Are you guys almost done? I am frigging starving—” Derrick stopped mid-sentence, dropped his phone to the antique Persian beneath his feet, and allowed his eyes to shamelessly trace their way up Taylor.
“Like what you see, Derrick?” Marty asked dryly. “She isn’t a piece of meat, you know,” she chastised. When her brother only continued to stare, Marty stamped her foot. “Have you no manners? Tell the love of your life she looks fabulous, you idiot!”
“You, uh, wow. You just look so,” Derrick shook his head like he could shake the stuttering out of himself. “You are so stunning and perfect anyway, and now you look confident and powerful, it’s almost got me on my knees,” he said, still in a complete daze.
“Well, that was pretty good,” Marty said, smirking. “You can kiss her, but don’t muss up her clothes,” she lectured, pointing at her brother.
Derrick came to Taylor like a freight train and then stopped when he got to her. “You look beautiful,” he said, slipping one hand over the well-dressed curve of her waist and the other to her face.
“Thank you, Derrick,” she said softly. He was so close Taylor wasn’t really sure what to say, and then he kissed her softly but quickly, cut off by a knock on the door. They all turned to it.
“Yes?” Marty called out.
Harry, the Fletcher’s butler, spoke from behind the door. “Mr. Todd and Charlie are here to discuss some business things with you, Miss Taylor. Are you available?”
“Uh, yes. Yes, thank you, Harry. I will be right down,” Taylor replied. She took another look at herself in the mirror and decided it was time to test out her power suit.
Derrick could not believe how some new clothes could make such an amazing impact. Not only did Taylor look amazing, she now had a presence that commanded attention. Her looks had always commanded attention, but this was different. This kind of attention was full of authority. It was enough to temporarily distract him from the fact that she had left him high and dry earlier, well technically hard and wet. He still had no idea what had happened, but he had told her she was in charge, she could make her own choices, and she had made her choice.
He just wished it had been about what to eat for lunch and not about losing their clothes and fucking like crazy in the pool.
Taylor started to ring her hands after Harry came to the door, and she turned away from the mirror. She looked at the door, but she made no move to get any closer to it. She looked back over her shoulder in the mirror, and confidence flared in her eyes, but the second she turned away the nervous tension returned.
He needed to help her.
He walked over and grabbed her hand. Taylor’s gaze flicked up to his, and guilt was all over her face. He knew she felt remorse about earlier, and he was sure she had her reasons. But now she needed his help, and he wanted to earn her trust. He spun her back toward the mirror and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder and meeting her eyes in the mirror.
“You look amazing, Ms. CEO of Preston Corp.,” he said to her softly and smiled at her.
“Thank you,” she s
aid.
“Check you out,” he said, lifting his chin toward the mirror. Taylor took herself in, and he knew she saw how powerful she looked. “Okay, done. Now let’s go downstairs and meet up with your advisers.” And with that he pulled her from Marty’s room.
“I’m going to organize your stuff and then go get you more everyday clothes, Taylor!” Marty called to her as they left the room.
“Thanks, Marty,” Taylor called back as they made their way down the hall.
Derrick held her hand as they made their way through the huge mansion. Taylor kept glancing at Derrick, and after about the fifth time she finally spoke, “Derrick, about the pool. I’m sorry, I—”
“Don’t worry about it, Taylor. Just forget it,” Derrick said as they started down the stairs in the back of the home; this staircase was just one of six.
“I just want to—”
They were halfway down the stairs, and Derrick stopped, put his hands on her shoulders, and turned Taylor to face him. “Let it go, Taylor. Put it behind you. We need to push forward and get you through this meeting. It happened, and it’s over.”
Taylor glared at him. “Are you doing this because I won’t let you talk about what happened, before?” Taylor asked, motioning between them.
Well, isn’t that funny? Derrick mused, as he realized she was right. It was almost exactly the same scenario. “No,” he said, laughing and shaking his head, “I’m doing this because it won’t change the decisions you need to make when you walk in there with Todd and Charlie. You need to focus on being Taylor Preston, kick-ass CEO of Preston Corp., and not worry about silly stuff,” he explained.
Taylor searched his face for a second, as if trying to evaluate the truth of his statement. “I just don’t want you to be mad at me,” she said in a whisper, her eyes shining with the start of tears.