Then Comes Marriage (25 page)

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Authors: Emily Goodwin

BOOK: Then Comes Marriage
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“You’re right,” Derek whispers. “This place screams horror movie.”
 

“Great.”
 

He wipes his hand on his pants, a moot point since they’re wet too, and rings the bell on the desk. A minute passes, and no one comes. I look around the little office. There’s a room behind the counter, with the door shut but not latched. Shelves line one wall, holding toiletries and extremely overpriced souvenirs, all made in China. He rings it again and a sour-faced teenager comes out of the backroom. He glares at us, obviously annoyed, and pulls earbuds from his ears.

“Can I help you?”
 

“We’d like a room,” Derek says and steps up to the desk to pay and get the key. We’re two rooms down from the office. We step back outside, staying close to the side of the building. The covered sidewalk helps block some of the rain.

I huddle next to Derek as he unlocks the door, then step in and feel for the lights. The room is muggy; the window air conditioner hasn’t been turned on in God knows how long. But things are surprisingly clean. There is one bed, a table with two chairs, a dresser, and no TV. The bathroom smells like bleach and two folded towels sit on the sink.
 

Derek turns on the air conditioning, and I dump the contents of my bag on the table, making sure things stayed dry. There is a picture hanging on the wall above the dresser, centered across from the bed. I tap at it.

“What are you doing?” Derek asks.
 

“Shhhh,” I say and carefully push the painting to the side, looking behind it. “I was checking for peepholes. We should probably check the bathroom too.”
 

Derek just laughs and shakes his head.

“I’m going to take a quick shower,” I tell him and grab my spare clothes. Luckily, the extra sundress I packed is comfortable enough to wear to bed, and Derek has a pair of dry boxers among his extra clothing.
 

I unwrap the soap and step in the shower, quickly washing the sunscreen from my skin. My mom never let us shower during storms for fear lightning would strike the ground and the current would carry through the water and electrocute us in the shower. I have no idea if that is actually true, but it’s a risk I don’t like taking.
 

In record time, I wash and get out of the shower. I towel dry my hair the best I can, then pull my dress and clean undies on.
 

“My turn,” Derek says when I come out. Finger-combing my hair, I check out our stash of food to get us through the night. We have a water bottle each, one loaf of banana bread, and an array of candy. It’s not perfect, but it’ll suffice.
 

I sit on the bed, watching rain slap the window. I feel a million times better being off the road, but the way the old building creaks in protest against the wind makes me nervous and wishing for a basement to hide in. I check my phone—still no service, then try Derek’s since he has a different wireless provider. He has one bar but requires a passcode to open his phone.
 

My eyes feel heavy and I lean back. It’s not that late, but all the day’s activities are hitting me hard and all I want to do is sleep. The bathroom door opens, and Derek steps out, running the towel over his dark hair. He’s only wearing boxers, and I feast my eyes on his muscular body.
 

Now that’s something else I want to do.
 

“Now what?” he asks, sitting next to me. The mattress bounces from his weight, and cold air rushes out of the air conditioning, making me shiver. “How can you be cold?” Derek asks with a laugh.

“I get cold easily. You should see me in the winter. Well, the winter in Michigan. Texas winters are nothing.”
 

“It gets cold in the winter.”
 

“Hah. Your version of cold is nothing compared to what I’m used to. Have you even seen snow?”

He nods. “A few times, but nothing substantial. It snowed enough to make a snow fort when I was in fifth grade. The whole city shut down for days.”
 

“Last winter was my first away from home and while it was nice not having to dig my car out of the snow every time I wanted to go somewhere, I missed it. Christmas is a lot less festive when you can wear shorts.” I lay back on the bed and extend my arm. Derek moves in and lays next to me, encasing me in his arms so that I’m on my side with my head on his chest.
 

I run my fingers over the tattoos. They start on his left pec and run up his shoulder and down his arm, stopping a few inches above his elbow. It’s a masterpiece of colorful ink, and it’s also hiding more of the scars than I had noticed before.

“What happened?” I ask softly as I run my finger over a mound of scar tissue on his chest.
 

“Car accident,” he tells me. “When I was seventeen. I got hit by a drunk driver on the way to school.”
 

“Holy shit.”
 

“It’s one of the things that made me become a cop,” he continues. “The person who hit me kept driving. He almost got away with it.” Derek lets out a deep breath. “The first officer on the scene promised me he’d catch the asshole. And he did.”
 

“And that’s when you realized you wanted to make the world a better place too?”
 

“That’s when I realized that the world is unfair as fuck, and needs people to carry out justice.” He bends his arm up, fingertips brushing my cheek.
 

“What about this one?” I ask and touch his arm. “It looks new.”

“It is, and I was shot.”
 

“You say that so casually.”
 

He shrugs. “I lived. It’s no big deal.”

“Well, for what it’s worth I find scars like this very sexy.”
 

“Oh, do you now? I have more scars…lower.”
 

I shake my head and laugh. “The only cool scar I have is from falling off a horse three years ago.”
 

“That’s a cool scar?”
 

I sit up and show him my left wrist. “You kind of have to squint to see it. But saying I got in a horseback riding accident makes me sound a little badass, doesn’t it?”

“If you say so.” His long fingers wrap around my wrist and he brings my arm in, inspecting my flesh. “How did you get cut falling off a horse?”
 

“I might have landed in a rosebush.”
 

He laughs. “Sorry. It’s not funny. But it is.”
 

“Told you, I’m not athletic. Not like you.”
 

“Everyone can be athletic if they try hard enough.”
 

“Spoken like someone who has no idea what its like to
not
be a natural athlete.”
 

He slowly runs his thumb over the faint scar on my wrist. “I’m sure you’re athletic in other ways.”
 

I bite my lip as I smile, leaning in. “You’ll have to be the judge of—” A flash of light and a bang that sounds like a gunshot echoes off the building, and the bedside light flickers off. I freeze, unable to see in the dark, and hold onto Derek.

“Sounds like a transformer blew.” The walls of our little room shake from thunder. “No light and no air conditioning. Perfect ending to a perfect day, right?”
 

I twist my hand out of Derek’s and put it on his back. He scoots closer, arms slipping around me. “It was a perfect day.”
 

Multiple bolts of lightning flash, allowing me to see Derek’s handsome face for just a second. And that second is all I need. I lower my head so my lips brush against his as I speak. “I never thought this would happen, coming here alone.”
 

“Meeting someone?”
 

“No. Being happy.”
 

Derek’s mouth meets mine and he moves his hands to my face. One cups my chin and the other pulls my hair. He kisses me hard, then breaks away and flips me over onto the mattress. He’s too far away and my heart and my body longs for him. I reach out in the dark, fingers finding him, and pull him to me, bringing him between my legs.
 

Derek kisses my neck, mouth knowing exactly where to go, what to kiss, what to suck, what to lick. I explore his body with my hands, feeling every scar on his shoulders, every ridge of muscle on his back. I run my fingers down his spine and along the elastic of his boxers.
 

Derek groans and takes a fistful of my hair, pulling my head back. His tongue runs along my collarbone, then he’s kissing me again. Hard. Fast. Like if his tongue isn’t in my mouth he might not survive. He’s rough, knowing what he wants and taking it.

It’s such a fucking turn on.
 

I rake my nails up his back, slow, teasing, then bring them back down. I curl my legs around him, feeling his cock harden against me. Desire builds inside me, as intense as the storm that’s raging around us. He takes his mouth off mine, moving his lips to my neck. Tingles make their way through me, and I squirm beneath him.
 

With a grunt, he pushes himself against me, grinding his cock against my core, and nips at my neck. I let out a moan as I hook my legs around his, bringing my hands down along his back, fingers going inside his boxers. I pull them down as far as I can, moving my hands to his hips to push him up and continue to strip him. He lifts himself just enough for me to get the boxers off.

I reach for him, taking his cock in my hand, wrapping my fingers around its girth and slowly bringing it along the shaft, all the way up to the wet tip. Derek moans and buries his head into my neck. I slowly rub my thumb over the tip, spreading the wetness down. Derek stills for a moment, enjoying my touch. Then he sits up and grabs the hem of my dress. I let go of his cock and put my arms over my head, allowing him to pull the dress off in one swift movement.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says as lightning flashes. He grabs my breasts, bringing his face down and taking one in his mouth. His tongue lashes out against my nipple, sending pulses of pleasure straight through me, getting me so hot and wet. He moves his mouth to the side of my breast, trailing kisses down my torso, stopping when he gets to my stomach. Then he works his way back up to my breasts again.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.
 

I’m going to come right here, right now, and he’s nowhere near my pussy. I want him with everything inside of me. From the loneliness that had always been there, the emptiness in my heart I worked hard to deny, to the desire for him to be closer, it’s almost too much.
 

“Derek,” I moan, pulling him to me, bringing his mouth to mine. He silences me with a kiss, and I grab his ass, pushing his big cock against me so it rubs my clit through my panties. “Fuck,” I mumble when he does it again. He pulls his mouth back, takes both my hands in his, and moves them over my head. I curl my fingers around the wooden slats in the headboard and bite my lip, watching him descend down on me.
 

He’s moving slowly on purpose, knowing how absolutely insane he is driving me. His tongue swirls around my nipple again, but this time he slips one of his hands down my side, pushing it under me and grabbing my ass. I grip the headboard tight. Derek kisses his way down, to my naval, running his fingertips along my flesh. He flicks his eyes up to me, promising—no warning—me how good this is going to be.
 

He parts my legs, eyes still locked with mine. He licks his lips, then puts his mouth to me, kissing me softly. My panties are still on, and I’ve never hated an item of clothing more than I do right now. Gently, he hooks his fingers on either side and slowly rolls them down an inch. He turns his head and kisses my inner thigh.

I want to yell at him to strip me and fuck me. Because I can’t take much more of this. I’m aching for him, desperate for his touch. I lift my hips, bringing myself to him. Derek continues on teasing the hell out of me, acting oblivious to my desperation. Then it’s like he’s hit with the same lust as I am, and pulls my underwear off and throws it on the ground.
 

I throw my head back when his mouth moves against me. His stubble-covered face rubs against me, almost painfully, which only intensifies the pleasure. He pushes his hands under my ass, lifting me to his face, working his tongue like he was born to do this and only this.
 

My legs tighten around his neck and loud moans escape my lips. Tight coils of pleasure wind inside, tighter and tighter until I’m on the edge, ready to come. Derek knows and suddenly stops.

It’s all I can do not to reach down and slap him. He lets a beat pass then slips a finger inside me, and picks up right where he left off, licking, sucking, working his tongue. I come hard, harder than ever before and it takes over every single part of my body. My body stiffens, toes and fingertips tingling. I’m seeing stars and my ears are ringing. Derek doesn’t let up and he keeps going, drawing this out longer than anything I’ve ever had before. My body shudders, on overdrive, and I feel like I’m going to pass out.
 

He holds his mouth against me and runs both hands down my thighs, then back up to my stomach. I’m panting, heart racing, unable to get up and walk, or even form a logical thought. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and moves back up, putting himself between my legs. His cock rubs against me, unintentionally, and I come again.
 

Holy shit.
 

I’ve never been this turned on, this stimulated before. Derek has a magic tongue and talented fingers, but it’s more than that and I know it, even if I’m too sex-drunk to realize it right now. He rolls me to my side and spoons his body against me, kissing the back of my neck. I open my eyes and see spots floating around me in the dark. He rubs against me then pulls back, and I realize that he’s probably pretty fucking turned on from that as well.
 

I try to catch my breath, try to get my heart-rate down enough so I can function. My body is in overdrive and my thoughts are still hazy. I’m floating, body humming. I’ve never felt so alive.
 

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