Chapter 21
Allegra
His kiss is dizzying. His mouth a current I’m helpless against. Derek pulls me in as easily and quickly as he did the first time. And the second. And the time after that.
His thighs part and I press myself as close as I can get. His body heat seeps into my skin as his hand tightens on my waist, slips to my hip, rolls around to palm my ass.
I moan lightly. My fingers curl into the top of his shoulder while my other hand slides up his back, over his neck, my fingers slipping through the short hair on the back of his head.
I pull him even closer, wanting to lose myself in this moment. In this kiss.
Because it’s different than the frantic need against the brick wall in the alley.
It’s nothing like the night he took my mouth, desperate and needy, beside the stove.
This kiss holds hints of our first kiss. Sweet and sincere. Magic.
Derek’s tongue sweeps inside my mouth, touching mine. Dancing.
I grip him harder, and he folds over me, clutching me to his chest as his kiss drugs and drowns me in the sweetest of oblivions.
The last of our cold front melts. Our posturing proves pointless. The battle of wills we’ve silently raged for weeks clashes together, culminating in this moment.
I don’t want to push him away. I don’t want to burn from his rejection.
I want Derek. This kiss. This night.
He slides from the barstool, towering over me. But he keeps his mouth fused to mine, his hands kneading up and down my body, as if he wants to touch every inch of my skin.
My breasts grow heavy as my breathing kicks up. Derek’s touch is gentle as he cups my right breast, squeezes. Then, he pulls back and looks at me. His eyes search mine, asking permission.
Silently, I lift my arms and he lets out a shaky exhale. But his fingers hook underneath the hem of my shirt, and he slowly drags the thin material up my frame, clearing my head, and dropping it on top of his laptop behind me.
He leans back, his eyes taking their fill. “You’re gorgeous, Allegra,” his says seriously. His fingertips run along the swells of my breasts, and he watches, mesmerized, as goose bumps dot my skin in the wake of his touch.
Then, he reaches for the clasp in between my breasts and in one expert move, pops it open. My breasts spill free, but his hands are there to catch them. A perfect handful for his grasp. His thumbs flick over my nipples, massaging them, as my bra hangs off my arms.
“Perfect,” Derek murmurs, dropping a kiss to the side of my neck. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby. So goddamn pure.”
Heat pools between my thighs as a delicious ache spreads through my pelvis.
My hips lift, seeking out his length. Knowing what I want, Derek shuffles closer.
His mouth drags along the column of my neck, kissing a path up from my collarbone to the sensitive spot behind my ear.
The entire time, his hands are on my breasts, kneading and touching.
My hips tilt up again and this time, he presses his hard, impressive length, against the inside of my thigh.
I nearly shudder, wishing he would press against my core. Give me some friction. Give me some relief.
Instead, he turns his torso, dragging his hardness against my thigh again.
“You wet for me, Allegra?” he taunts.
I nod.
“Give me the words, beautiful. Want to hear you say them.” His teeth nip at my earlobe.
“Yes,” I breathe out.
“How wet, love?”
“So, oh God, wet. I, I’m, Derek,” I manage, half delirious. Between the buzz in my bloodstream and the desire pooling in my nether regions, I’m half incoherent.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, his hand sliding down my stomach.
I watch as his fingers trail to the waistband of my shorts. He pops the button and shimmies them down my ass. Once they clear my hips, they drop to the floor, and I kick them to the side.
It dawns on me that I’m wearing nothing but a black lace thong and Derek is fully clothed. I have no idea how far we’re taking this, but I know it needs to be more equitable.
I grasp the material of his tank top and he chuckles, whipping it off in an instant.
Derek takes my palm and presses it to the center of his chest. “Have your way with me, Allegra,” he taunts. “Whatever you want to do, beautiful.”
Then his lips are on mine. His fingers hook underneath the waistband of my thong and he drags the backs of his fingernails along the seam, back and forth over my lower abdomen.
My hands explore his abdomen and pecs. His coiled muscles and hot skin. I slide my palms over his shoulders and down his arms. I wrap my arms around his frame and grab his ass. I touch him the way I’ve dreamed of, imagined, fantasized about, for years.
Time stretches and stands still. Derek and I are wrapped in our cocoon, in our truce, oblivious to everything but each other.
I touch my tongue to his, tasting and taking. He dips his fingers into my panties, a whisper away from the place I want his touch. I lift up on my tippy toes, encouraging him.
He chuckles. “Don’t rush me, Stellina. I want to savor this with you.”
I melt at his words, wondering if he means them.
Enough to want to repeat them tomorrow.
Before I can decide if we should take this further, if this is a good idea at all or if we’ve already fucked everything up, a sharp voice bellows in the quiet.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Mav rushes Derek, shoving him away from me.
He stumbles to the side as I shriek and jump back. Except the kitchen island is at my back so there’s nowhere to go.
“Mav!” I cry out, throwing an arm toward him.
He throws my clothes in my face instead. “Get dressed, Allegra.” Mav points at Derek, not looking at me. “Don’t you fucking touch her. Don’t even look at her.”
Derek tosses his hands up in a surrender position, backing away from Mav. He shoots me an apologetic look.
What is he sorry for?
That Mav interrupted us?
That we got caught?
That we started this in the first place?
Now that his hot body isn’t pressed against mine, confusion infiltrates my mind.
“What the hell are you thinking?” Mav backs Derek up into the living room.
I quickly pull on my shorts and T-shirt, forgoing my thong and bra. I follow the boys.
“Mav,” I say.
He ignores me.
“She’s Levi’s sister,” Mav bellows.
Derek winces and I recoil into myself.
“She’s my roommate,” Mav continues. “She’s not one of your good-time girls.
She’s a good fucking girl.” He shoves Derek’s shoulder.
“But you couldn’t keep it in your pants, could you?
You always screw everything up because you don’t know when to quit.
You’re insatiable. Every fucking part of you wants more.
Isn’t this enough?” He throws an arm wide to encompass the living room, the brownstone, Boston.
“You had to fuck with her?” Mav’s finger jabs in my direction.
“Mav,” I say quietly, “it’s not like that.
” Do I tell him about our past? About my seventeenth birthday?
About how Levi invited me on tour, to Europe?
I frown. Didn’t Levi tell them that I’m coming?
My eyes snap to the clothes I deposited on the chair by the front door.
Claire lent me some items for September in Europe, knowing I’m low on funds and didn’t pack much for my summer in Boston.
I’m hoping to hit Levi up for a winter jacket but…
A new horror skates up my arms. Does my brother remember he invited me on tour or is he so messed up, he forgot?
“No,” Derek clips. “Mav’s right. I, fuck.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “I crossed a line. I never should have disrespected you like that, Allegra. Not in the kitchen.” His eyes find mine, bleeding with remorse.
Regret because he touched me?
Or because it’s out in the open now?
“I’m sorry,” Derek mutters.
And it’s the worst thing he could have said. His apology cuts, burning a path of shame through my center.
He’s sorry…?
“For which part?” I bite out, having déjà vu. How many times are we going to take two steps forward just to leap back again?
Mav’s face spins toward me, confusion evident in his expression.
I ignore him and keep my eyes trained on Derek.
“For all of it,” he rasps out. His eyes close in defeat.
My stomach sinks and my chest tightens. I wish I still felt drunk, from alcohol or lust. From anything.
“Whatever,” I bite out. I’m not doing this in front of Mav. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
Clasping my thong and bra in my hand, I scoop up Claire’s clothes, and take the stairs up to the bedroom I share with Mav.
I hover outside my brother’s bedroom door. Did he mean it when he invited me on tour? Does he want to work on our relationship and erase the space between us like he said?
Will Derek want me on tour? Three hours ago, I didn’t care. An hour ago, I would have said hell yes. Now, I’m not sure.
I just know that in another week, everything will be different. Everything is changing.
Even that doesn’t provide relief because it means this—all of this—will be over.
Summer is ending and with it, this familiarity I’ve formed with the guys. Living in their Boston brownstone is completely different than being on tour, in Europe, where they’re performing and practicing and preparing.
Except, maybe Europe will be better?
Maybe being on the road will give Derek and me time to explore what’s between us. We’ll be in close quarters, without our usual routine to rely on. My brother invited me for a reason. Does he miss me as much as I miss him?
My head spins and exhaustion, bone-deep and soul crushing, settles over me.
I change for bed and slip under the covers.
But sleep doesn’t find me. How can it when Mav and Derek argue late into the night?
Their clipped voices make me feel worse.
Even though I know, deep down, Derek and I are what we are, this is one of those times I wish we were nothing at all.