“Oh, God,” I murmur.
“No, it’s Derek,” he says, just to be an ass.
I sigh, but I can’t move. “Fine, I’ll allow your ego. But only because you did really good work just now.”
Derek chuckles lowly, then climbs on the bed with me. “My turn,” he states.
I have just enough presence of mind to open my eyes and meet his. “Did you bring a condom?”
He nods his head.
I nod right back. “Okay. When I wake up in the morning, I need you not to be here,” I inform him.
“I’ll be gone,” he assures me.
It’s exactly what I asked for, but it leaves me feeling empty all the same.
I don’t have to feel empty for long though. Derek grabs my hips, puts me on all fours, and unzips his pants. He doesn’t even fully undress, just takes his cock out, rolls a condom on, and buries himself between my legs. I cry out at the force, grabbing onto the headboard. This may be a goodbye fuck, but the way he thrusts, it’s like he’s trying to bring down the house. His thrusts are so hard, so unforgiving, I swear he’s trying to break it so no one else can ever fuck me again once he’s gone.
He probably is, the fucking asshole.
I want to yell at him, but I love it rough, so with every brutal drive of his cock into me, I become a little less tethered to any rational place. More and more mindless as he fucks me, as he reaches up and caresses my breasts, playing with my nipples, whispering filthy things, his voice low and gravelly like he hates me. It shouldn’t send a thrill through me, but it does. He feeds a deep, dark place inside me that no one else can even find.
And then he sends me flying again, impossibly high, the walls of my body quaking, squeezing him, begging him to come with me. He obliges, grabbing a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back, and coming with a low groan.
I try to catch my breath, melting against the mattress. I’m limp and boneless, my mind hazy, my body supremely satisfied. Oh, God, I can’t move.
I hear Derek fall on the bed behind me, feel the weight of his arm around my waist. He doesn’t pull me close this time, just stays on his own side with his arm thrown over me.
I close my eyes, too satiated to even think. I don’t need to think. I am exhausted and more relaxed than I’ve been in… since last time I saw Derek.
I need to sleep.
We have nothing to talk about anyway.
Since I don’t have any relationship drama to deal with, I sigh, pull my pillow closer, and let myself drift off to sleep.
Chapter Thirty One
He may as well have been a dirty dream. Hell, if not for my nakedness and the mild soreness between my legs when I wake up, I might think he was.
He is gone when I wake up though, just like he promised he would be.
I’m tempted to lie in bed and think about last night, so I force myself to get moving. That was a nice reprieve, and I actually got a good night’s sleep for the first time in a while, but it’s a new day
; time to get back to work.
I still feel foggy as I move through my morning routine, making myself some coffee and cracking open a banana. I might as well eat something since Derek came over before I could schedule my food delivery. I’ll tackle my to-do list and get to it later. First I need to make up the work I still intended to do last night before Derek showed up.
When I sit down at my desk with coffee, I grab my to-do list. The first thing I notice is Derek’s chicken scratch. At first I think he ruined my to-do list with a note, but then I read it. On the line where I wrote about looking for a roof estimate, he gave me a ballpark range. Depressingly, it’s double what I expected a new roof to cost. Then after that estimate, he wrote, “Or you could just ask me to do it.”
“Hmph,” I murmur, taking a sip of my coffee. No way in hell am I going to ask him to fix my roof. Now I have images of him shirtless and sweaty out in the hot sun, doing hot construction worker things. Dammit, Derek.
Ugh, I never even got to see him at work. My mental images of him at work are probably hotter than reality.
My mind is not my friend, so it grows an even more detailed scene in my head. Derek is up there fixing my roof, it’s a warm, sunny day, birds are chirping, my neatly trimmed grass is almost as green as the grass at Simon’s house somehow, and there’s a blanket spread out on the front lawn. I’m sitting on it with my legs curled behind me, Cassidy on the blanket in front of me, and a picnic basket open beside us. I shield my eyes from the sun and look up at Derek. “Are you almost done up there?”
“It’s lunch time, Daddy!” Cassidy calls.