There’s nowhere for me to go. No one for me to call.
I don’t know why I do it, but I dial his number.
He picks up on the first ring.
“Derrick,” I say with a broken voice, trembling despite the warmth of the day.
I don’t need to say any more. “Give me ten minutes,” he says. “Fuck. Give me five minutes.”
He stays on the phone not saying anything but not hanging up and literally 7 minutes later a black stretch Bentley peals around the corner and brakes hard outside my building.
Derrick bounds out and grabs me in his arms.
I sink my face in, and feel his strong arms around me, and for the first time since I get home, I start to feel a little safe.
“Someone broke into my apartment,” I say, my voice muffled into his chest. “They trashed my room.”
Derrick motions to someone and from the background I notice that he has nondescript bodyguards dressed as civilians. The man nods and opens the door to my building.
Derrick looks at me, “What apartment, love?” he asks.
“4F,” I reply weakly, not wanting him to let go. Derrick conveys this to the man standing at the entrance to my building and the man rushes upstairs. Derrick continues holding onto me.
“Sam’ll go upstairs and get whatever he can carry and bring it back to my place, okay?” Derrick asks, disengaging himself slightly to be able to look me in the eyes. “You’re coming over and staying with me until we get this whole thing sorted as well. Okay?”
He’s commanding, and takes control of the situation. But that’s exactly what I need right now. I look into his eyes and nod.
He holds onto me as he helps me into the car and the Bentley takes off.
He never let’s go the whole time.
Derrick
Fuck me, I’m going to go mental if I don't fuck that beautiful body of Daphne’s soon. It’s only been one fucking morning and already my cock is twitching like it’s got a mind of its fucking own. It knows what it fucking wants and it's getting pissed as all hell at my brain for denying it.
That’s exactly all I’m thinking about right now as the Bentley’s driving me to One57. I’m still fucking wet from jumping into the water. But I’m not even thinking about that. Why wouldn’t I jump in? You’re thinking I’m trying to be a hero for Alicia or something, right? Well, listen, mate, I’m no fucking hero. I know you might be shaking your head, especially if you’re the skeptical type, but you need to believe me when I fucking tell you that I wasn’t doing anything on that boat for Daphne. I was just trying to get through the morning without popping my massive fucking cock in front of her.
She’s been gone for a bit but it’s doing nothing for my state of mind.
That’s when my phone rings.
It’s Daphne. I pick that shit up on the first fucking ring.
“Derrick,” she says and her voice is fucking trembling like she’s afraid.
Fuck me.
I don’t need to hear another fucking word. “Give me ten minutes,” I say into the phone. I look at where we are – on 23rd street near Chelsea Piers. Fuck, I think we can do better than that. Pressly looks at me for the driver’s seat. “Fuck, give me five minutes,” I say out to her. I nod to Pressly who kicks the shit into high gear. The tires squeal as he turns a fucking U-turn onto 12th Avenue, and kicks the speed up as fast as it’ll go.
I’m on the phone but I don’t say anything unless she needs me to. I’m not hanging up on her and she’s not hanging up on me. I can hear her breathing and I curse under my breath, wishing I could fucking fly.
The Bentley’s flying, dodging traffic left and right. The other cars on the street, let's just say they’re rightfully fucking pissed.
It’s too long, but eventually we turn onto Daphne’s street, and the Bentley literally peals in and I jump out as I see her on the curb.
She runs into my arms and I hold her while Sam, my bodyguard that was in the front seat rushes up to her.
“You’re coming over and you’re staying with me until we get this whole thing sorted, as well. Okay?” I ask her, but I’m not really asking. I’m taking charge because I’m going to protect this woman. This most perfect creature that I’ve ever met.