28. Derrick
28
DERRICK
“The lighthouse?” Izzy asks when I stop the truck. “What are we doing here?”
As I unbuckle my seat belt, I turn the key in the ignition. “It’s a rite of passage for locals to climb the lighthouse stairs.”
“But I’m not technically a local.” She peers up at me, fighting a smile, humor shimmering in her eyes.
“You’re an honorary local,” I say. Then, after a moment of hesitation, I add, “And you could be, if you wanted.” The moment the words are out, my lungs seize. I’m frozen where I am, waiting to see what she might say.
“I’m going to talk to a realtor soon about selling my place in LA.” She stretches her fingers out in front of her. “The idea of going back doesn’t make me happy. Canceled or not.”
My heart pinches at that word. “Are you still canceled? ”
She shrugs. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I haven’t posted in a long while. The last time I did, I got chewed out, so I haven’t been eager to try again. People will move on eventually if they haven’t already. It’s inevitable.” Picking at the hem of her skirt, she keeps her head lowered, her shoulders slumped, like despite her words, this all still weighs on her. “That’s the funny thing about cancel culture. No one ever truly stays canceled.”
I place my hand over hers on her thigh and squeeze, hoping to imbue her with a little of my affection. Izzy is a people pleaser, feeling like she’s hated hasn’t been easy for her.
“You should try to post again.”
She twists her lips back and forth in thought. “Maybe I will.”
“You shouldn’t give up on what you love just because people are assholes.”
“I don’t plan on it.” She tugs on the bottom of her skirt. “I’ve just needed time.” Squinting up at the lighthouse, she says, “We better get started. It might take me an hour to get to the top.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” I tease with a pat to her leg. “I’d carry you before it comes to that, and this one isn’t all that tall.”
I hop out, then jog around the front of the truck to get her door. She takes my hand, her sandaled feet slipping on the gravel when she touches the ground.
With my hands on her waist, I steady her, though I can’t help but simultaneously pull her into my chest. “I’ve got you.”
Fingers tracing the collar of my shirt, she looks up at me through her lashes. “Do you?”
It’s an easy answer. “Always.”
As I release her so I can shut the door and lock the truck, she scans the lot .
“Is it even open to the public? There’s no one here.”
I step up to her and grasp her chin. “They do tours sometimes, but I know a guy.”
She laughs, smoothing her hands down her white top. “Why am I not surprised?”
Gripping her hand, I guide her toward the entrance. I pause only long enough to pull the key from my pocket and unlock the door. Then, once we’re inside, I lock up again.
“Wow.” She turns in a circle, taking in the small space downstairs and the spiral staircase that leads to the lantern room. “It’s not as big as I thought it would be.”
“This lighthouse is on the smaller side. But the view is worth the climb.”
She spins around, her skirt fluttering around her legs. “If you say so.”
Gripping the side of her orange skirt, I growl out, “I feel like you chose this specifically to drive me crazy.”
With a wink, she gives her shoulders a sassy little shimmy. “Maybe.” She spins around quickly, her hair flying behind her, then starts up the stairs. She only makes it up a few before she turns and looks down on me. “Make sure you stay behind for your special view.”
I groan and bury my face in my hands. “Izzy.”
“What?” She looks over her shoulder, wearing an innocent smile. “I meant my cute outfit. What did you think I was talking about?”
I hop up the bottom few steps and pinch her hip, earning a giggle.
When we reach the top, she goes straight for the wall of windows encircling the small room and peers out at the ocean beyond. “Oh, wow.” Her gasp brings a smile to my face. “Look at that view. ”
“It’s even better outside.”
She turns around and rests her butt against the window ledge. Behind her, the waves roll, and a boat cruises slowly by, painting a gorgeous image. “I have a confession to make.”
“And what’s that?”
“I’m a wee ”—she holds her thumb and index finger an inch apart—“bit afraid of heights.”
“I’ll hold on to you.” I tug on her wrist, and she comes willingly, letting me pull her in until there’s only a breath between us.
Tilting her head back, she blinks up at me with wide, trusting eyes. “Promise me?”
With a thumb, I graze her bottom lip. I want to kiss her. I always want to kiss her.
In all the years I’ve been alone, not a single person has tempted me the way Izzy James does.
“I promise.”
She grasps my hand and laces her fingers with mine. “All right, let’s do this.”
I open the door and keep a tight hold on her as we step outside and grab the railing. The wind sends her hair whipping around her shoulders. She tries to tuck the long strands behind her ears, but to no avail.
“Hold on.” I let go of her hand, then quickly step behind her so I can wrap one arm around her torso and use the other to hold her hair back. “Does that help?”
“Yes. This is… look at that view, Derrick.”
“Do you want to move closer to the edge?”
“ No .” The word bursts out of her. “No,” she says, a little calmer this time, settling her hand on top of mine over her stomach. “I’m good right here. ”
The beach is a distance away, but we have a bird’s-eye view of the people dotted along the shore waiting for the sunset.
“Would you take a picture with me?” she asks. “Maybe just our hands?”
“Sure.”
She sets us up so our hands are clasped and resting on the railing—though she’s careful to keep the rest of her body well away from the edge—and snaps the photo, getting our hands and the view beyond.
“Would you care if I shared this?”
“Shared it?” I ask stupidly.
“On my social media.”
I hesitate. Because even I—someone not well versed in the happenings of social media—know it’s a serious declaration.
But that hesitation only lasts a heartbeat. Let the world know she’s mine. “I don’t mind.”
She taps on her phone screen for a moment, leaning into me like she knows I’ll keep her safe, and when she’s done, she tucks her phone away, and we take in the scene once again.
“God, I love it here.” Her voice is soft, reverent. “I think whatever drew my sister here was meant for me, too.”
My chest fills with warmth at that admission. “It’s a special place.”
I grew up here, raised my kids here. While a lot of people dream of leaving the place they’ve always known, eager for adventure, I’m not one of them. There’s nowhere else on Earth that will feel like this place does. The town, the people, are like a beating heart that keeps the blood moving through my veins.
She turns around carefully so that she’s facing me, her entire body practically wrapped around me. When she places a palm on my chest, I can’t help but wonder if she feels the way my heart stutters at her touch .
“You’re special, too, you know?”
I grunt. “I don’t know about that.”
She smiles, her eyes tracing the shape of my lips. “To me you are.”
I can’t stop the smile that overtakes my face. Being Izzy’s someone special is better than being anyone else’s something.
She stands on her tiptoes and presses her mouth to mine. The kiss is soft. Sweet. It feels like a promise.
Turning back around, she clasps her arms around mine where it’s looped around her and smiles into the setting sun. I gather her hair back again, securing it in my hand.
“Thank you for bringing me here.”
I bring my lips to her neck, just behind her ear. “Even though you had to walk up the stairs?”
Her breathy laughter causes her body to shake against me. “Yeah, even though I had to walk up the stairs. This is incredible. Look at the pier. The town. It’s amazing from up here.”
It really is. You can see Main street from here, as well as the cliffs beyond the beach.
“I was thinking,” she begins, her body suddenly tense and her voice wavering, “I could start looking for my own place since I’ve decided to stay here. I don’t want to overstay my welcome with you.”
Going as rigid as she is, I grit my teeth. The idea of her moving out doesn’t sit well with me.
It takes me a moment to gather myself, and the longer I take, the stiffer she grows in my arms.
“Is that what you want?” I finally say, going for as neutral as I can muster, and give her hair a gentle tug to look back at me.
“I… no… Not long term. But this is new. I was only supp osed to stay with you for a few weeks, and now here we are, and I just… I don’t want you to get sick of me.”
“Izzy.” Her name is a soft exhale. “I could never get sick of you.” The idea is ludicrous. “You have no idea what you’ve done for me just by being you. By caring for me. Even if this wasn’t happening between us, I wouldn’t want you to go.”
Her eyes fill with tears, and my heart tugs. Dammit. I could kick myself for making her emotional.
“You mean that?”
I swallow past the lump of emotion in my throat. “Wholeheartedly.”
She turns around again, hands on my stomach this time. “It’s crazy, and maybe some would say it’s too soon, but I can’t keep it bottled inside any longer. I love you, Derrick, and you deserve to know that. To hear it.”
I’m so stunned by her declaration that I swear my heart stops. All words leave me, and I gawk at her, silent.
“Oh no,” she blurts, a look of horror overtaking her features as she tries to step away from me. “It’s okay. Pretend I didn’t say anything. I?—”
I kiss her. I’m pretty sure I’ll die if I don’t.
And when I cup her face, my hands practically swallow it whole. Sometimes I forget how small she is compared to me.
I nibble her bottom lip, a gentle request for her to open up. When she does, I sweep my tongue inside. Claiming. Owning. Devouring.
This woman is mine .
When we finally come up for air, our breaths linger in the small space between us. “I love you, too, Izzy.”
She angles back and hits me with a smile that is so bright I’m nearly blinded. Love, my love, makes her that happy .
“You love me?”
“I do.”
“You have no idea how good that is to hear.” She clutches my shirt, the fabric bunching in her grip, and tugs me toward the door to the lantern room with desperation. “Come here.”
“What?” I ask stupidly as she opens the door and tugs harder. “What’s going on?”
Inside, she rips her top off, revealing a smooth white bra beneath. “I love you, and you love me, and if I don’t get you naked right now, I’m going to combust. There aren’t cameras in here, are there?” She spins in a circle, holding her top against her chest.
“No cameras,” I confirm.
“Thank God.” She lets the shirt fall and reaches for the hem of mine.
Stepping closer, I lift my arms to help. And when she can’t reach, I take over and tug it off completely. She bites her lip, drinking me in. The lust in her eyes is a massive ego boost. Licking her lips, she puts her hands on my chest.
“Your heart is beating so fast.” She sounds surprised by that.
“It is,” I confirm, holding back a smirk.
“Mine, too,” she whispers, drawing her thumb around my nipple. “You know, I’ve never told a man I loved him before.”
“Fuck.” I drop my head back. “That might be the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“You’re special, Derrick. I don’t think you see it, but you are.”
My chest tightens. I want to tell her she’s wrong. That she’s the one who’s special, but before I can, she drops to her knees. She makes easy work of my belt, then yanks my pants down my thighs .
Head dropped back, I bite out her name. “Izzy.”
She rubs her hand over my cock where it strains against the fabric of my boxer-briefs.
“Shh,” she hushes. “Just watch.”
Slowly, with her eyes locked on mine, she slides my underwear down, freeing my cock. It bobs between us. Grabbing it at the base, she gives it a squeeze.
“I want you to fuck me hard and fast.”
I open my mouth to protest, but she shushes me.
“And when we get home, we’ll go slow. Got it?”
I nod, swallowing. “Whatever my girl wants.”
Her lips curl up. “I like the sound of that.”
“Getting what you want?”
“No. Being your girl.” With that, she takes my cock into her mouth, using her hand to apply pressure at the base. Then she pulls back slightly and licks the tip.
“I love your cock,” she whispers the confession. “So much.”
Jesus.
That alone makes my knees so weak I have to lean against the wall to stay upright. This girl and the things she says. They threaten to undo me.
I thought I could handle anything until Hurricane Izzy came along. Now, I’m just along for the ride.
She licks and sucks me, teasing me until my balls are tight and tingles shoot up my spine.
“Izzy,” I warn with a gruff exhale. “Get up.”
She doesn’t listen.
“Get up,” I repeat, grasping her hair gently.
She still doesn’t stop.
“Izzy, if you want me to fuck you, you’re going to have to stop sucking my cock. ”
Finally, she pulls back with a pop, wiping at her mouth with her thumb, her eyes hooded and her chest heaving with heavy breaths.
“C’mere.” I grip her elbows and guide her to her feet, noticing that her knees are a little red from the floor. Dammit, I feel like an asshole for not making her stop sooner. “Lean over here.” I direct her to the window ledge.
“Mm,” she hums, wiggling her butt. “Sex with a view. I like it.”
Shoving her skirt up, I let out a growl. “Izzy?”
Peeking over her shoulder, she sinks her teeth into her lip. “Yes?” She bats her eyes.
My words are choked, but I force them out. “Where the fuck is your underwear?”
She smiles so bright I’m nearly blinded. “At home.”
I give her ass a light smack. “Don’t do that.”
“Why not?” She gives a soft laugh that turns into a moan when my thumb circles her clit. “I was determined to get you to fuck me.”
Shaking my head, I stroke my cock and bring it to her entrance. “You just want to be dripping with my cum all the way home.” I thrust into her in one swift move, making her throw her head back and cry out. “You’re my dirty girl, aren’t you? You love to have my cum filling this sweet pussy, don’t you?”
She slams a hand against the windowpane in an effort to keep herself steady. “Y-yes.” The word stutters out of her. “Oh, God. Derrick.” My name is a whimper.
Fuck, I long to hear it again. “Say my name, baby. Tell me how much you want me.”
“Derrick,” she breathes, head tipped back, neck elongated. “I love you. ”
“Fuck, baby.” I grip her hips, fucking her hard and fast. I’m not going to last long, but that’s okay. We have all night.
We have the rest of our lives .
She gasps, her hand on the glass splaying wider. “I’m so close.”
“Rub your clit,” I tell her. “I’m almost there, too.”
She obeys, and her cries echo through the lighthouse. “Fuck! Derrick!”
The pulsating grip of her pussy sends me careening over the edge. I come, leaning over the back of her body as I fill her.
As I come back down to earth and blink into reality, I brush her hair off her neck and kiss the skin there, finding it damp with sweat. “I love you,” I murmur, needing her to hear it. To feel it.
She’s quiet for a moment and then, “Enough to carry me out of here? I’m not sure I can walk.”
Chuckling, my heart feeling lighter than it has in years, I pull out of her and yank up my underwear and pants. “I can try.”
“Mm.” She gives a tired hum, pressing her forehead against the glass.
I tug her skirt back down and spin in search of her shirt. Once I’ve located it and helped her into it, I snag my own off the wooden floorboards. With our clothes righted, we take a moment to catch our breath and look out over the water one more time. Then we carefully take the stairs down to the exit.
“Is there some kind of club for that?” she asks when we’re safely in the truck.
“Huh?” I ask, my mind still scrambled from the unbelievable orgasm, as I adjust the AC.
“Well”—she turns her head lazily my way—“there’s the mile high club for sex on a plane. Is there something similar for lighthouses?”
I chuckle, turning out of the parking lot. “I doubt it.”
“There should be.”
She smiles over me, and even though the sun is almost gone, it shines directly upon me. That’s exactly what Izzy is—my own personal sun.