Chapter 57 Derrick #2
“I don’t know. But what I do know is that man makes me happy.” And he does, we may not have known each other for long and may have gone about things in a roundabout way, but I know that if things progressed between Charlie and me, he wouldn’t be embarrassed over me, unlike Chance.
“And I never made you happy?”
“No. Not in the way I needed you to,” I answer honestly.
Chance’s eyes widen. “This is fucked up, D. You’re breaking up with me because I won’t come out of the closet.”
I shake my head. “We’re not dating, Chance. It’s just been sex. That’s all it’s ever been between us. Sex.”
“You think what we have has only ever been sex?”
“Yes!” I say, raising my voice.
He has the audacity to look hurt. I’m not lying. This shouldn’t be a shock to him. But it seems like it is. Did he seriously think there was more to what we had? This time, maybe he did. Now I kind of feel bad.
“I still don’t understand what you see in him.” Chance sneers.
Anger burns beneath my skin. “See, that’s the thing, you don’t need to.”
Chance’s eyes narrow on me. “You used me.” I’m surprised by his words. “You got off on the fact that behind the scenes, I was on my fucking knees for you. That all those girls screamed for me, wishing they could be in my bed, except all I wanted was you.”
He’s not going to turn this around on me. “And yet you seemed to always have a girl in your bed.”
“You can’t hack that they give me something you can’t,” he spits back.
“A vagina. Big deal.” I huff at him, folding my arms defensively in front of me. “This conversation is going nowhere. I wish you well, Chance. Hope we can still be friends.”
“Fuck you, Derrick.” He sneers and pushes me.
I stumble a couple of steps back. “Fuck you.” He storms past me.
A pang of guilt hits me as I shake my head at what has transpired between Chance and me.
I didn’t think we would be here again. I slam my door shut and let out a heavy sigh, replaying that conversation in my mind, but I still can’t believe he said those things about Charlie.
There’s a knock at my door moments later and my stomach sinks.
Is Chance coming back for round two? I get up from the chair and stomp over to the door, pulling with much more force than I meant, ready to give Chance a piece of my mind, and still when I see it’s Charlie.
He looks at me for a moment before grabbing my face and kissing me.
Wow.
I was not expecting that from him, nor was I expecting him to push me up against the wall as his kisses become more frenzied. Look, I’m not going to say no to a dominant Charlie, but I’m also confused over where this sudden change of heart has come from.
“Charlie …” I moan his name as I push him back slightly. His teeth nip my bottom lip as he reluctantly pushes away. We are both breathing heavily as we take a moment. “Look, I will never say no to a good make-out session, but … um …”
Charlie’s forehead rests against mine. “I heard you defending me.”
Oh.
“I’m sorry you had to hear that. I’m assuming you heard it all?” I’m cringing over that conversation I had with Chance.
“I did.”
“And?” I ask, wondering if he’s going to change his mind about me. I wouldn’t blame him, Chance is baggage.
“And …” He sighs. Oh no. Here it is, he’s going to tell me that as much as he is attracted to me, it can’t work between us.
“… I want you.” Oh. I’m surprised by his comment.
“I’m sick of fighting the pull I have with you, Derrick.
I’m sick of denying myself … you,” he says, cupping my face. “You make me happy, and I like you.”
“You like me?”
“I’m scared, but yes, I like you,” Charlie confesses.
My heart wants to break out of my chest. “You like me?” I reiterate, which makes him smile. “I like you, too, a lot.”
His smile widens. “I do too. I don’t know what the future holds, but it feels brighter with you in it.”
“It does?” Oh, my goodness, this man.
“It does.” He grins before leaning forward and kissing me slowly, ever so fucking slowly that he makes my toes curl.
“I don’t know what is going to happen when we head home, but honestly, we have another week on this island, and I want to spend it with you, in the open,” Charlie declares.
“Like PDA?”
He nods. “I’m not ashamed of whatever this is. How can I be when you make me feel alive?”
“I do?”
“You do. I’ve been using my injury as a wall to protect me from the world, but you smashed your way through it.” His words are melting me. “Let’s not label anything, we will figure out whatever this is later. I just want to enjoy you. Is that okay?” He continues to cup my face.
“Yes.” I think I’m willing to give this man whatever the hell he wants.
“Good. Now get in that bed, Derrick, and let me do all the things I’ve been wanting to do to you since the night we met.” He smirks darkly.
Yes, sir. I am all yours. He doesn’t need to ask me twice as we rush toward the bedroom.
As soon as we enter the room, I turn around and look at him.
There’s something different about Charlie right now, he has a dominating confidence I haven’t seen before.
Tingles rush down my spine at the thought of this man taking what he wants, and what he wants appears to be me.
I back toward the bed, and when my calves hit the mattress, I sit, then scoot back.
Charlie follows, crawling over me with a predatory grace that has no business being that attractive.
His leg doesn’t seem to slow him down one bit.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve had to walk away from you before I did something stupid.”
“Fucking me isn’t stupid.” I pout.
He smirks at me. “It’s not, but the feelings it’s going to give me are,” he mutters against my throat, his lips dragging over my pulse point that is thumping a million miles a minute.
I swallow against his touch. Hearing his confession does things to me.
And like him, I’m wondering if us going all the way is going to have me feeling things for him that might complicate what we have.
Then his mouth is on mine, and I don’t care about whatever concerns I was just having about us fucking because I need him, like I need oxygen.
My fingers find the hem of his shirt, tugging at it impatiently.
He breaks the kiss just long enough to pull it over his head, and …
fuck … the sight of him shirtless has my dick standing to attention.
My hands explore his chest, his stomach, and I feel him shiver as I memorize every taut muscle of his body.
“Your turn,” he says, voice rough.
I reach for my shirt, but Charlie’s hands are already there. “Let me.”
It’s not a request.
He grabs the fabric and drags it up slowly, his knuckles scraping my ribs. When it’s off, he just looks at me, and the hunger in his eyes makes my breath catch.
“Stop staring.” I giggle nervously, not used to someone looking at me that intensely.
“Never,” he commands as his hand spreads across my chest, thumb dragging over my nipple, and I bite back a sound.
“Charlie …” I groan desperately.
“Say my name like that again.” He leans down, his teeth grazing my neck hard enough to make me gasp. “Louder.”
My fingers dig into his shoulders. “Use that soldier voice on me again, it makes my dick leak.”
Charlie arches a brow at me before a smirk slides across his lips. He lowers his mouth to my skin again, his tongue drags across my chest, and when his teeth scrape over my nipple, I whimper.
“Fuck …”
“There we go,” he mumbles, his hand already working at my pants. “That's what I wanted to hear.”
This man is torturing me. “Charlie, please …”
He pulls back, looking down at me with that infuriating smirk. “Please, what?”
I roll my eyes like the brat that I am. “You know exactly what.”
“Say it anyway.” His fingers pop the button on my shorts, but he doesn't move any further. Just waits, watching me squirm.
“I hate you.”
“Liar.” He palms me through the fabric, and I curse, my hips bucking up. “Try again.”
“Fuck me, sir,” I manage, and his grin turns wicked.
“Fuck, D …” He groans. “Hearing you call me sir, fuck …”
“New kink unlocked?” I chuckle.
“Seems like it.”
He drags my shorts and underwear down in one motion, and I'm suddenly very aware of how hard I am. Charlie's eyes darken as he takes me in.
“Fuck, look at you.” His hand wraps around my cock, and I nearly come off the bed at his touch. “So, fucking perfect.”
“Charlie … shit …” If he keeps looking at me like that, I might just come in his face.
“That's not what you just called me.” He strokes me slowly, deliberately, and I'm going to lose my mind.
“Sir,” I gasp out, and he groans, liking hearing the word. “Better.” His thumb swipes over the head, and I buck into his hand. “You're going to be good for me, aren't you?”
This man is going to be the death of me. “Depends on what you're asking.” He stops moving his hand entirely, and I actually whine. “Charlie …”
“Sir,” he corrects, smirking down at me like the smug bastard he is.
“You're enjoying this way too much.” I pout at him.
A deep chuckle vibrates through him. “I really am.” He releases me completely, and I want to cry. “On your stomach.”
My brain short-circuits. “What?”
“You heard me. Turn over.” His voice drops lower, commanding, and fuck if that doesn't make me scramble to obey. I flip onto my stomach, and his hands are immediately on me, sliding down my back, over my ass. He squeezes hard enough to make me gasp.
“You know how long I've wanted to do this?” he mutters, and I feel him shift behind me.
He reaches out, and I hear the shuffle of his hand inside the bedside table.
“How many cold showers I've taken thinking about you like this?” Then I hear the squelch of the bottle of lube, instant coldness against my skin, and warm hands, tenderly readying me.
“Tell me.” My voice is muffled against the pillow.
“Every. Single. Night.” His hands spread me open and … oh fuck ….