I want to be naked with Derrick, bared to him in every sense of the word.
I want to wrap my legs around his waist and feel him hard and pulsing against me where I need him most. I want him to take my virginity, and in my current beer-buzzed and kiss-addled state, my brain decides it’s a good idea to tell him so.
“I want you to be my first,” I mumble against his lips as he squeezes my ass through my jeans. That one, possessive touch is nearly enough to make me come.
“What?” he whispers, his hand abandoning my backside as he shifts away, putting a hateful two or three inches between us.
I step forward, tightening my grip on his neck again. “I want you to be my first. Let’s get a hotel room for the rest of the weekend. I don’t have a curfew anymore, so I don’t have to be home until Sunday night if I don’t want. As long as I call Mom in the morning and tell her I’m okay, and tell her not to tell Dad I didn’t come home at all so he won’t have a meltdown, she won’t worry and everything will be cool. We can stay in bed all day if we want.”
He tries to pull back again, but I arch my hips forward, grinding against the thick, delicious hardness behind his fly. “It’s okay,” I say. “It’s not a big deal. I don’t need hearts and roses or love or whatever. I just need sex, and I’d much rather lose it to you than some guy my age who has no idea what he’s doing.”
Derrick reaches behind his head, circling my wrists with his fingers and gently, but firmly, pulling them from around his neck. He holds onto my arms as he says, “I’m flattered, I really am, but—”
“Oh God, don’t,” I groan, my stomach filling with acid all over again. “Don’t do the let me down easy thing. Clearly you like kissing me as much as I like kissing you. So, let’s go kiss some more and worry about the other stuff later.”
“I can’t have sex with you, Harlow,” he says, the pained tone in his voice easing my stinging pride a little, but not enough.
Not nearly enough.
“Even kissing you…” He exhales. “That was a mistake, one that won’t happen again. Ever.”
Chapter Four
Harlow
Derrick releases my wrists and takes another step back, shaking his head like he’s snapping out of dream. “Fuck, I don’t even know why I did that. When I came after you, I was just… I just wanted to make sure you got home safely.”
He drags clawed fingers through his hair, which falls perfectly back into place, because he’s Derrick, and everything about his life is perfect.
Everything, apparently, except the fact that his lips just touched mine.
“Way to make a girl feel great about her kissing skills,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my aching chest.
I thought nothing could be worse than being turned down flat, but this…
This is so much worse.
As I watch Derrick fight to swallow, his throat working as if he’s struggling to keep down a rush of bile, I can safely say I’ve never felt more repulsive.
“I can’t do this.” He reaches a stiff arm out to clasp the Jeep’s door handle behind me.
“Can’t do what?” I shift to the side as he opens the door.
“Talk about it,” he says, nodding toward the empty seat without making eye contact. “I can’t talk about it or think about it, and I’d really appreciate it if you’d keep this between us. It would upset Evie, and there’s no point in upsetting her when it was a freak accident that won’t happen again.”
“You make kissing me sound like a car crash.” I shift into the space between him and the open door. He steps back again, moving so fast it summons a humorless laugh from my throat. “Jesus, Derrick, I’m not going to give you cooties. Or throw myself at you or…whatever. You’ve made it clear you’re not interested, and I’m not a sexual predator. Not even a little bit.”
He mutters something beneath his breath that I can’t quite make out before adding in a louder voice, “Just get in, Harlow. Let me take you home.”
“Fine,” I mumble as I climb into the passenger’s seat. I strap the seatbelt into place before crossing my arms over my chest again, feeling like I’ll explode if I don’t make an effort to hold myself together.
The last of the beer-and-kissing-buzz fades away as Derrick guides the Jeep out of the field and onto the dark country road leading back toward town, leaving me with a sour taste in my mouth and a sinking feeling in my stomach.
Shit. I’ve screwed things up.
I’ve screwed things up so badly, I’m not sure they can ever be normal again.