Cheater

52. Derek

I answer my ringing phone. “I’m busy, Grace.”

“I love her. Love her!”

“Huh?”

“Chloe, Derek. I love her.”

I scrub my itchy jaw with my fingernails. I should’ve shaved this morning.

“Derek?” Grace inquires.

“What?”

“I think marrying her was very smart. And I also think that if you play it smarter, you can win her over, too.”

“Oh yeah?” I mutter, sounding bored. But I’m not really bored. I’m actually interested in learning what my sister might suggest here, though I’m not about to feed her interference or she’ll run rampant with it.

“She’s having a lot of difficulty with some of your tactics.”

“No shit?” I volley sarcastically.

“Brother, you need to focus on showing her your good side. Keep doing what you’re doing in terms of showing her that her happiness matters to you, but ease up with the threats. Don’t do anymore of that if you can help it. Just do the other stuff. Show her what a life with you would be like if you didn’t feel like you had to make threats. You follow?”

“I follow,” I confirm.

“And lots more of the sexy stuff. She goes to a happy place when she thinks about that stuff with you.”

I say nothing to that, not remotely willing to talk sex with my sister, but now I’m wishing the house had cameras so I could rewind to see what Grace is referring to.

“Gonna dash,” she says. “See you tomorrow night then. We got her dress and shoes all picked out. She’s going to look stunning. I dropped off your pocket square, too.”

She always looks stunning. Especially when she first wakes up in the morning. Sleepy. Fresh-faced. Hair fanned out.

“Oh, and Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“Get home. It’s only days since you got married. You shouldn’t be at work. She said you guys aren’t speaking but you can’t fix that if you’re not home.”

“Did she tell you why we’re not speaking?”

“No. Do you wanna tell me?”

“No,” I say, scratching my jaw some more. “Gotta go, Grace.”

“Okay, love you, bye!”

She hangs up.

It’s after nine o’clock when I walk in to a quiet house that smells like lemons.

I go upstairs and see the light filtering around the door to the master bedroom. I walk the opposite way to the spare room I’ve been in the last two nights, but I stop in the doorway, surprised. The bed is made, and the room has been cleaned. The room smells like laundry soap. She must have washed the bedding. The clothes that were on the floor earlier are now folded on the chair. She did my laundry.

A half bottle of bourbon still sits on the table beside the bed, but the empty one is gone.

My stomach nags at me for food and it hits that I haven’t eaten for twelve hours, so I back out of the room, intending on going downstairs to see what might be there, but here she is, in the hall, in a pink tank top and matching short shorts. Very short shorts. No fucking bra.

Something primal rises in my system. Something else also rises. Immediately.

She startles. She must not have heard me come up. She hangs onto the doorframe, eyes dropping to point at her toes, and before I can calculate it, I’m in her space, using my index knuckle to tip her chin up so our eyes meet.

She backs up a step. I follow with a step, which makes her back up some more. This goes on again and again and now we’re deep into the bedroom. It’s lit with a soft glow from the lamp. It smells fresh in here, too.

Her phone is lit with a cooking video on the bed beside the paperback she’s now reading. A book I bought her the other day.

My eyes scan her face, her body, assess her body language. She seems afraid. And I don’t like it.

“You’re acting afraid of me,” I say.

“That’s because I am,” she whispers.

“I’d never hurt you, wife.”

She frowns. “But that’s all you do, Derek.”

An unpleasant sensation grips my insides and squeezes.

“And you’re obviously mad at me,” she says, “which is also scary.”

“I don’t just hurt you. Did buying you this house hurt you?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

I shake my head. “Did buying you that book hurt you?”

“Yes.”

I shake my head again, giving her a confused look.

“You don’t get it,” she says. “Because you’re not well.” She points to her head.

“I get it, Chloe. But I don’t think you get it.”

“You’re right; I don’t get it. I don’t understand any part of this obsession with me. At all.”

“Why do you think I’m mad at you, Chloe?”

While she moistens her lips and swallows, my eyes are glued to her mouth. Wanting to take it. Wanting to slam my cock into it. Wanting her to give me what I want, for fuck’s sake. Devotion. Loyalty. Unwavering love. I want what she gave him. He didn’t deserve it and I want it so fiercely it makes me want to drive over there and beat the living shit out of him for having something he didn’t deserve, something I want, something I’m working to earn.

“You’re mad because I left you wondering where I was all night. You’re mad because I made a threat. And you get to make threats against me, Derek, but clearly while you dish it out, you don’t like to take it. Do you?”

My eyes snap up to meet hers.

“I’m not mad at you, Chloe. And my threats are never empty. Was your threat empty?”

“It wasn’t going to be empty. Because I was very much wanting to strike back at you. But I didn’t follow through because I…” She doesn’t finish her sentence. She swallows in a way that looks painful as she looks away.

“Because that’s not who you are,” I finish for her. “Don’t try to be anyone other than who you are.”

“Because I didn’t want you to murder someone. If you’re not angry with me, why are you staying in another room? Why do you seem like you’re angry?”

“I’m not mad at you,” I repeat. “I’m mad at me. I’m denying myself you because I don’t want to hurt you.”

“And you’re afraid you will?” She bristles, taking another step back.

I take another step forward. “No. I already did. I hurt you by trying to make you love me.”

“You can solve that by stopping with the threats. By letting me walk away and make my own choices about who to marry, who to be with.”

I shake my head. “If keeping you makes me bad, Chloe, oh well. Because nobody and nothing will take you from me. And I might have to keep making threats if I think you’ll do something that’ll destroy me. And now maybe you’re starting to understand that the threats aren’t empty. The threats will stop when I don’t feel the need to make them.”

Her face turns exasperated. Tears fill her eyes. And I hate it. Tears never affected me before. From anyone. Chloe’s tears started to do things to me not long after we met.

I move in, ready to reach for her and she backs up faster, shaking her head. “Don’t.”

I grab her anyway and pull her against me. Tight against me. Her big, blue eyes widen. My eyes rove her pretty mouth as I absorb how she feels. So soft. So right, so fucking right. I can’t believe I voluntarily went days without touching her. Hours without touching her is too much as it is.

“If keeping you makes me bad, I’ll be bad. But the problem is how much I hate myself right now. That’s why I’ve stayed down the hall. It hurts me that you’re hurting, and I don’t like the way it feels in here.” I thump my chest. “I fuckin’ hate the way this feels when I see how sad you are. I want to make you happy.”

“Then stop hurting me,” she whispers.

“I don’t think I can. And right now I know I’m about to hurt you some more.”

“How?” she asks, looking afraid.

“Not in a violent way. Never, baby. Nothing beyond what you can handle.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I’m about to fuck you. And it might get a little rough.”

“Derek, don’t.”

“I need to,” I inhale her hair. “I need to feel you. I need those sounds you make for me, Chloe.” I grab the back of her neck and put my nose to her throat. “I need that feeling that comes over me when you give in to how it feels, when you stop fighting me for a minute and hold onto me, writhing in what I make you feel. When you let yourself be mine.”

She whispers, “No.”

But she’s melting into me just enough that I feel the change.

I nod. “Yeah.” I back her up a few more paces so she falls onto the bed. I climb over her, fingers threading into her hair, mouth fusing with hers, tasting her, grinding my rock-hard cock against the heat between her legs.

“I need you.”

“Stop it,” she whispers, and it feels like a game. Because I’m sure by the way she feels that she actually wants me.

“Are you playing a game saying no?”

“No,” she whispers, but she’s biting her lip while looking away and the fast way her chest is moving tells me she’s worked up like I am. “You don’t want me tonight. I have my period.”

“I don’t care.” I kiss her.

Surprise lights in her eyes.

I grab the shorts and rip them down, taking her plain white bikini brief underwear with them. I use my knee to push them further and they fall.

“You want this too. It’s okay that you don’t want to admit it. So I’ll hold you down, take it, and then you don’t have to feel guilty about enjoying it.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” she protests.

“You’re full of it, Chloe Steele, but we’ll play it that way, anyway. Are you gonna be my good girl immediately tonight, or do you want me to wrestle you into submission first?”

“Maybe I’ll just lie here like a corpse,” she snaps.

“You never do, though. Do you? I don’t think you can,” I say. “Because unlike everyone else you’ve ever been with, I’ve got the playbook. Don’t I? I know how to make you feel good. I know what gets your motor running.”

Between kisses and nips, I pin her wrists over her head with my left hand as I fumble to get my shirt unbuttoned, snap my fly undone, rip the zipper down and quickly free myself before I guide it through her folds.

She wasn’t fibbing. I run my erection over the dangling string. I smack her clit with my cock. She jumps, closing her eyes tighter at the same time as she opens her legs wider.

I grab the string and carefully tug. It resists, so I pull a little harder. The white clump has just a little pink tinge on it, so I toss it to the floor.

“Derek. The carpet!”

I laugh darkly. “It barely had a spot, Chloe. But even if it was sopping wet with blood, I don’t give a fuck. Because I need to fuck you. Now.”

I thump the crown of my cock against her clit again, loving how she jolts. I do it several more times while I attack her throat with my teeth, nibbling all the way down to her rock hard nipples.

“Struggle baby. Fight me. But this ends with me inside you. We never end, though. This is us, Chloe. You loving me back? That’s my end game.”

I fist my cock and line it up. Her slit is soaking wet for me.

“Yeah,” I whisper against her mouth as I slip in just an inch or two.

She blows out a slow breath.

I pull out and thump it against her clit again. “Maybe I won’t fuck your wet little slit. Maybe I’ll just fuck your mouth and leave you on the edge.”

She stares into my eyes and the heat there? It’s been too long since I was inside her. I slam my hips forward, hitting home.

She arches, gasping, and I’m kissing her again.

“I’m not ever letting you walk away. You’re my wife, Chloe. You’re my life now. You…” I slam forward, “are…” another thrust. “everything to me. And goin’ back to what you said on the phone the other night? I didn’t make you cheat on Hallman. He gave up on you. I won’t ever, will never do the same. You don’t let anybody in this body but me, Chloe. Nobody. If you even dare to even consider it again, do it knowing I’ll fucking kill them. And it’d destroy me. I would never, not ever be okay again. The very idea of someone else touching you this way fills me with so much fury I can’t even fathom. The reality of it actually happening?” I glare. “No. Don’t fucking do it, woman. Never.” I slam in again, letting go of her wrists, bracing so I can caress her throat. “You’re my wife. You’re mine. Yeah, I’m a thief who stole you from him so I could keep you for myself, but he didn’t fight back. He’d already given up. Nothing and no one will take you from me without me fighting to the death. The only way you get away from me is if I’m dead. Do you understand?” I grip her chin and say it again. “Do you?”

She doesn’t answer me. She also doesn’t look away. I know she sees just how serious I am.

“I want to make you happy, wife. I want you to love me back. I’m not gonna stop trying to get that. But I’m telling you right now that if you let anybody have what’s already mine, what you promised at that altar…” I shake my head, “I don’t care that I threatened you and made you make those promises. You made them. You’re keeping them. Or I will rip that person limb from limb and yes, I’ll make you watch. Because maybe then you’d get it. That I won’t ever be done with you. That my threats are never empty. But if it comes to that, know that you’d have ruined me, Chloe. Ruined. Me. If anybody else touches you like this? Like I’m touching you now? Lava will run in my veins until the end of my days. And I still won’t let you go. Do you understand me?”

I pull my hips back and snap them forward again, making her whimper.

I grab her left hand and kiss her wedding rings. “You’re mine. Don’t run away from me again without telling me where you are. It made me half-crazy.”

“Half-crazy?” she mutters defiantly, her chin trembling.

“If you do it again, you’ll see me go full-on crazy. I’ll chain you to this bed and fuck you so rough you’ll swear I’m rearranging your guts with this cock, and I’ll do it for a week straight before I unchain you.”

She sniffles.

“I wanna make you happy, woman. I love you and I want you to love me back. Nothing you can think to do will mean I’ll let you go. But what you do will impact how the rest of our life together will go. Tell me you understand.”

She nods, tears streaming down her face. She sniffles and makes another shuddering sobbing sound.

I bury my face in her neck and breathe her in as I continue to fuck her in a hard, bruising way. Skin slaps skin. Hips bruise hips. I fuck her so hard I know I’ll be bruised in the morning, which means so will she.

I come. But it’s barely satisfying, because I’m not remotely ready to be done. When I pull out, I take her over my lap and finger fuck her hard, alternating between twisting her clit and her nipples until she cries into the sheets. And now I’m hard again, so I give her ass one wallop of a slap before I fuck her again. And I fuck her for so long, in several different positions, that I’m exhausted by the time I finish.

On our sides, I wrap both arms around her from behind, burying my face in her soft hair. I pass out, clinging to her.

I’m woken by the phone ringing. I try to ignore it. It rings again. And stops. And starts again. I slept like absolute shit the last two nights and don’t want to let go of her. She’s so warm, soft, and cuddling me, too.

“Derek?” she whispers. I tighten my hold on her.

The phone is again ringing.

“Derek, she repeats.

I kiss her and snuggle her closer.

It keeps ringing and she’s tense, so finally I roll over and reach to the floor for my jeans and fish out the phone.

Why is Carson calling me at four AM?