"I haven't seen the video," I said, trying to squeeze my legs together in case that was where he was heading.
Derek wedged his knee between my legs, releasing me just long enough to hoist me up so that I was straddling his knee. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a CD, holding it up in front of my face.
"It's just a copy, so feel free to destroy it when you're done watching it."
I glared at him, but took the damn thing anyway.
Derek pressed his weight into me, pinning me against the beam and said, "Let's make one thing very clear, Nikki. You are mine, whether you admit it or not, and until I decide I don't want you anymore, you will continue to be mine."
Well, I wasn't going to just accept that.
"No, Derek, you listen to me. I will never be yours, and I don't care if you want me or not, because I don't want you. I hate you. I hate you more than anything in the whole world, and to be perfectly honest, I don't care if you and Kayla make spectacles of yourself every single day for the rest of your pathetic lives, so you can stop thinking that you bother me. You don't."
He smirked, saying, "Now Nikki, what did I say about lying?"
"Let me down," I said, not wanting to sit on his knee.
Surprisingly, he listened, letting me down, but he kept hold of my hands. "Let's make one more thing clear," he said.
"Oh joy," I deadpanned, rolling my eyes.
"I could have taken you right here under the bleachers and had you begging me for it in less than three minutes."
Oh, I hated him and his arrogance. "I don’t think so."
He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head just slightly to the side. "Really? You don't think so? Want to go back to my car and see what we can do in three minutes?"
I stood there stubbornly, refusing to say a word.
"Our arrangement isn't over, Nikki. Not by a long shot."
"We'll see about that," I stated, full of bravado.
He smirked. "Yeah, I guess we will," he said, finally releasing my hands.
I hit him as hard as I could in the chest, but I think I hurt my hand more than I hurt him—not that I would ever let him know that.
His eyes just twinkled, making me hate him even more, and then he walked back out from under the bleachers.
I stayed there, grumbling about how much I hated him as I stared at the dreaded disc.
Well, there it was. Whatever was actually on that disk was responsible for all the bullshit I was experiencing. Part of me couldn't wait to see what was on it, while another part, the part that had been hoping he was lying, reasoned that if he handed it over like that, whatever he taped must have been bad enough that he felt confident I wouldn't want anyone to see it.
Chapter Six-
Any hope that I had of Derek's video being a load of crap disappeared as soon as I played it.
In the beginning, as I sat in front of my computer watching the video, it was just me doing a little striptease, clearly drunk and certainly not up to the standards of a stripper, so I decided it was probably nothing to worry about. I was giggling as I took off my shirt, then I approached the camera, and presumably Derek, and that was when I sat on his lap and started kissing him, taking his hair down, telling him his hair was sexy.
"Yeah?" he murmured in a tone that might've sounded tender or affectionate to a stranger.
"Yeah," I replied sweetly, then there were kissing noises.
Oh yeah, I thought sardonically, me clumsily (and drunkenly) taking my shirt off and then the sound of kissing. That was really going to shatter my reputation.
But then Derek said, "Can I keep taping?"
"Sure," I replied like a moron.