“That’s enough!” the bartender yells. “Don’t make me call the cops!”
“Call them, I’m pressing charges,” Kevin whines from underneath Derrick. “He assaulted me.”
“Boy, from where I’m sittin’, you threw the first punch and he defended himself from your shenanigans. Where I come from, you put money in the register, you gon’ get a receipt more often than not,” one of the bar patrons drawls. “Figure at least four more of us saw the same thing.”
Kevin looks like he’s about to whine, but slumps down. Derrick gets up, and I notice he’s bleeding. I go to touch the wound as Kevin gets up, grabbing a tumbler off a nearby table, but one hard look from Derrick is all it takes, and he lets go of the weapon to leave the bar.
“Are you okay?” Derrick asks, turning to look at me for the first time. “I’m sorry, I would have let you handle that, but he was being a bit too much of an asshole.”
I feel oddly excited. I mean, Derrick just went Neanderthal. Why not clunk me on the head, and drag me back to his cave by the hair? But I’m turned on, power coursing through me not only in that I stood up to Kevin, but that Derrick had my back.
I grab his head and pull him down into a deep kiss, our tongues swirling as I reward him for being there for me. “Let’s get out of here and get that cut looked at,” I whisper.
I usher Derrick onto the couch, where I strip off my jacket. “Okay, let me get the alcohol,” I say, going to grab my kit.
I come back, soaking a few cotton balls in alcohol. I dab at his cut, which is a lot deeper than I expected. “Damn,” Derrick says, inspecting it. “Got any tape?”
“Uh . . . probably,” I say, looking in my kit. “Why?”
“Learned from a friend,” Derrick says, taking the roll. He tears strips and carefully covers the cut with a narrow piece of gauze before taping his eyebrow back together. “Damn . . . could have done without this, but there was no way I was throwing the first punch.”
“You let him hit you,” I whisper, running my finger through his hair just above his eyebrow. “Why?”
“Because you deserve to have someone take a punch for you,” Derrick says, his hand closing over mine and pulling me closer. “Besides, I heard somewhere that chicks dig scars.”
I chuckle, and gently trace my fingertips along his forehead and down around his eye to his cheek. I’m checking for any tender spots, but mostly just marking him with my touch, appreciating that he was willing to sacrifice himself for me. I dip down, finding his lips with mine, hoping he feels the thank you I’m trying to communicate with my kisses. The fire we’ve been stoking for the last few days rages at my center, and I need to . . . worship him. This man, who isn’t showing me who I am, but is helping me actually discover who I am for myself, which feels even more important. I lower to my knees, my face level with the hardness already pressing against his jeans.
“Kat, you don’t have to. What about our second date?” There’s a plea to his voice, and I know he’s trying his damndest to do the right thing. But I know that this is the right thing. It’s not some guidebook dating rule, arbitrary so everyone thinks you’re a ‘good girl’, this is just real and what I want. Using all the tips from the show today, and maybe a few tricks of my own, I take Derrick to the edge in minutes.
“Damn it, Kat. Just like that . . . suck that cock, take me all in. Are you gonna swallow for me because I’m about to fill you up. Where do you want it?” I feel his balls pull tight, and I suck him in deep, leaving no doubt to my answer. I swallow down every drop, satisfaction humming through me.
I lay my head on his thigh, tracing lines along his softening cock as he pants above me. I realize that I’m really falling for him, despite my misgivings and fears, and that’s both exciting and terrifying. He’s not just healing my heart like the casual rebound I though this might be, but he’s filling my heart with new hopes and dreams, which feels dangerous.
Chapter 15
Derrick
I wake up in an increasingly familiar, comfortable tangle of arms and legs, opening my eyes to see again the increasingly familiar poster of Einstein with his tongue poking out that’s next to the closet. I stretch, feeling Kat’s breast shift to press against my ribs warmly. “Mmm, good morning.”
“Mid-morning,” Kat yawns sleepily. “You better be glad that my job lets me do flex time, stud. Let’s get brunch.”