The Warrior: DERRICK (Cover Six Security Book 4)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  "Do I look like someone who would be upset about that?"

  "No, not really."

  Lidiya wasn't sure how to take his answer so she chose to ignore him. She spun on her heel and walked the ten feet to the bed and tossed the backpack down. She pulled the clothes out, unrolled them, then gave each a quick shake before carefully folding them and placing them in the dresser. It gave her an odd feeling, placing her clothes next to the ones already in the drawer, clothes that obviously belonged to Derrick. Jeans. T-shirts. A thick gray sweatshirt that looked warm and comfortable.

  She placed the backpack on the floor next to the bed, sat on the edge of the mattress then quickly stood again. For some reason, being so close to the bed made her nervous so she walked across the room and studied the books on the shelves lining the wall. It was a mixed collection of mystery novels, westerns, crime fiction, and military fiction. He even had a hardbound copy of the complete Sherlock Holmes, as well a few dry classics that held no interest for her.

  She grabbed the Sherlock Holmes collection and lowered herself to the loveseat. Squirmed around a bit to get comfortable. Opened the book and started reading.

  Twenty minutes later, the words blurred in front of her and ran together in wavy lines that failed to hold her attention. Her gaze wandered to the computer against the wall, its screen dark, its heart still and lifeless. Her fingers itched to get to it. To turn it on and see what kind of set-up it was. The computer looked like any old computer you would buy in a store but this was Chaos and she knew it was more than just an ordinary computer. She wanted to play with it, peel back the layers of security he had surely added and poke around at the different programs that lived inside it. She wanted to—

  "Don't even think about it."

  She jumped at the sound of his voice, so close behind her. She turned, almost bumped his nose with her head because he was bent over the loveseat, his arms carelessly folded across the back.

  "Think about what?"

  He nodded in the direction of the computer then straightened. "The computer. It's off-limits."

  "I wasn't—"

  "Yeah you were." He moved to the counter, grabbed two plates and brought them back then took a seat next to her. His thigh pressed against hers, warm and hard and distracting. Lidiya slid away but there wasn't room, not with the way he seemed to take up every inch of the loveseat.

  She accepted the plate from him and placed it on her lap, stared down at the simple meal: grilled cheese with tomato and potato chips. She picked up one half of the sandwich then quickly dropped it and blew on her fingers.

  "Careful, it's hot."

  "You could have told me sooner."

  "Thought you would have realized it. And I doubt if telling you would have helped anyway."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "The bartender told you the other night that the pizza was hot but you didn't listen."

  Surprise made her mouth drop open. She knew he'd been there—he'd come up to her right as she had burned her fingers on the pizza. But she hadn't realized he'd been so close that he actually heard the bartender's warning. "You were paying that close attention?"

  "Lee, I was watching you from the minute you walked into the place."

  "But—you couldn't have been. I would have noticed."

  "Not unless I wanted you to."

  "No." She shook her head, repeated the denial. "No, I would have seen. I looked, just to see if anyone was watching me. Nobody was."

  Derrick took a bite of the sandwich, chewed and swallowed. "Like I said, I was watching every move you made as soon as you walked in."

  "But you didn't even let me know it was you!"

  "I didn't want you to know. Not until I was sure."

  "Sure about what?"

  "Sure I wanted to make contact."

  Lidiya frowned, shook her head and tried to hide her disappointment. "That's why you left? Because you weren't sure?"

  "No, I was sure."

  "You mustn't have been, not at first. Something must have changed your mind because you didn't say anything in the bar. In fact, you didn't say anything at all until you scared me half to death in the parking lot."

  Derrick's eyes were steady on hers, the expression in their depths warming something deep inside. "I didn't change my mind. I was sure from the minute I saw you walk through that door."

  Lidiya opened her mouth. Snapped it closed.

  And knew, with a certainty that left her breathless, that they were now talking about two completely different kinds of contact.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Derrick lay in bed, staring through the darkness at the ceiling above him. The loft was just beyond that, with its hard floor and still air and a sleeping bag tucked away somewhere among all the supplies. If he were smart, he'd be up there right now, curled in a corner sound asleep.

  If he were smart, he would have never opened his mouth and made the tactical error he'd made earlier.

  Jesus. Talk about fucking up.

  They'd been talking about the night in the bar—because he'd been an idiot and brought it up. He still wasn't sure why. Maybe to judge her interest. Maybe to see if she really regretted last night. Maybe to let her know that he was interested. He had no fucking clue why he'd brought it up, not really.

  Yeah, he wanted her. Didn't mean he had to fucking act on it.

  But like an ass, he'd opened his fucking mouth and made that loaded comment about making contact. Maybe Lee was inexperienced but she sure as hell wasn't stupid, she knew what he meant. Not right away, but she figured it out soon enough.

  And instead of the blush he expected, she'd gone completely cold. Frigid. Distant. There was an immediate withdrawal as she disappeared inside herself. As soon as he realized his mistake, he'd backtracked and tried to turn it into a joke. Yeah, real fucking funny. Ha ha. But it had been too late and any ground they might have covered between them—which wasn't a whole hell of a lot to begin with—had been lost. He'd even told her she could get on the computer if she wanted. Hell, she could poke and prod and tear it apart for all he cared, there wasn't anything interesting on it. But she'd even turned that offer down, saying she wasn't interested.

  She'd quietly finished her meal, cleaned up, read for a little bit—at least, pretended to read because she sure as hell wasn't turning any pages—then said she was tired and wanted to go to sleep.

  Sleep, not bed.

  Like she thought he hadn't gotten the message already, loud and clear.

  He'd stepped outside to give her some privacy and stood there staring up at the clear sky for a long time, longer than it would take for anyone to change. Long enough that he'd started shivering from the cold seeping through his thin shirt. The cold surprised him, even though it shouldn't. They were further north and at a higher elevation, of course it would be colder. Cold enough that there might even be frost on the ground in the morning.

  In spite of the chill, he waited a little while longer, just so she couldn't say he hadn't given her enough time. Then he went inside, took a few seconds to revel in the warmth sliding over his chilled arms and chest, and glanced over at the bed. She was already huddled under the heavy blankets, curled on her side with nothing but the top of her head peeking out.

  Shit.

  He'd thought about going up into the loft and getting the sleeping bag so he could sleep on the floor. Changed his mind and finished cleaning up. Grabbed a book and read a little. The oil lamp he'd lit earlier was too dim for reading so he gave it up and put the book to the side. Thought about getting a fire going in the woodburning stove and decided it wasn't that cold. Glanced up at the loft and again thought about getting the sleeping bag down.

  Then he'd finally said fuck it, blew out the oil lamp and made his way over to the bed. He'd kicked off his boots and shucked out of his socks and jeans but left his boxer briefs and t-shirt on. He'd be tossing and turning all night because of the damn shirt but what the hell, he'd survive.

  The bed dipped unde
r his weight and he held his breath, expecting Lee to jump up and ask him what the hell he thought he was doing. Yeah, he should probably sleep on the floor, it was the gentlemanly thing to do. But dammit, this was his bed and it was big enough they could both sleep in it without touching each other.

  Except Lee was the only one sleeping. She hadn't moved when he pulled the covers up around his waist. The rhythm of her deep breathing hadn't changed when he rolled to his side and punched the pillow to get it just right under his head. Hadn't stirred when he flopped onto his back, folded his hands behind his head, and stared into the darkness overhead.

  He usually enjoyed the darkness and the silence, the solitude and peace that both provided...but not tonight. Tonight, both things conspired against him, giving him ample time to think.

  And he didn't like where his thoughts were going because they kept circling back to TR's words.

  I have a feeling about this.

  Your missing half. Your soulmate.

  Hearing that damn word—soulmate—come out of TR's mouth so often was bad enough but he could usually tune it out. Ignore it. He'd done it often enough, now shouldn't be any different. And it wouldn't be, except he kept recalling the expression in Lee's eyes when he'd told her he had no soul. When he'd deliberately let the facade slip and allowed her to see just a glimpse of the man he was inside.

  He'd wanted to scare her. Reassure her. Let her know that he was more than capable of handling whatever trouble was following her while he warning her away from him at the same time. And how fucking stupid was that, to think he could do both? It was like he was deliberately sabotaging himself and he didn't understand why.

  Or maybe he did and he just didn't want to admit it.

  But she had surprised him. Had turned the tables on him. Because instead of drawing back in fear, or even running away, she'd just stood there, watching him. The expression in her eyes had been his undoing. There had been understanding. Sympathy. Concern and compassion. For one horrifying second, he'd actually thought she was going to put her arms around him and tell him everything would be alright.

  That's when he had stepped back and quickly lowered the mask over his true self.

  Jesus. Talk about a tactical error.

  Yeah, he'd fucked up. Nothing he could do about it now. In the morning, he'd try one last time to convince her to tell him what was going on. If she didn't, he'd step back and regroup and go from there. The smart thing to do would be to leave here and head back home. He'd still offer help but there was only so much he could do without the information he needed.

  Only so much he could do when he was becoming invested in ways he didn't want to admit.

  Maybe he'd pass her over to Wolf or Ox or even Ninja. No, fuck that. Mac would be a better choice. Or even Zeus or Boomer. At least he'd be certain that none of them would make a play for her, although Mac might scare the hell out of her with his butt-ugly face so maybe that wasn't the greatest idea, either.

  No matter how he looked at it, he needed to be the one to help her. Now all he had to do was convince her—

  "Derrick?"

  He froze at her soft whisper, his mind emptying of everything except the woman next to him. "Yeah?"

  "Can you—" She stopped, settled deeper against the mattress with a breathy moan. "I'm cold. Can you—will you hold me?"

  He held himself still, not daring to move. Not daring to fucking breathe. Then he slowly rolled to his side. Waited for the space of heartbeat in case she changed her mind. There was no protest, no words telling him never mind. He slid closer, eased his arm around her waist and pulled her to him, spoon fashion so her back was against his chest and her ass was cradled against his hips.

  It was just one more tactical error in a night filled with them. She wiggled closer and his dick shot to immediate attention. He froze, waiting for her to pull away. To maybe roll to her side and slug him or even jump out of bed and storm off.

  Instead, she wiggled against him again.

  He sucked in a sharp breath, released it in a rush. "Lee, if you do that one more time, I'm going to be sharing a lot more than my body heat with you."

  He'd shocked her into utter stillness. Good, because he didn't completely trust his control at the moment. No, he'd never do anything to hurt her. He sure as hell would never force himself on her. But damn if wanted to spend an entire night being tortured by something he couldn't have.

  And then she wiggled against him again, the movement slow and deliberate as she pressed the round cheeks of her ass against his throbbing hard-on.

  Anger sliced through him and he rolled to his back, ignoring her surprised gasp, ignoring the effect it had on him. What the hell kind of game was she playing? He reached for the light, swore beneath his breath when he realized there wasn't one. He needed to see her face, needed to look into those big gray eyes that were his downfall and search for a hint of what she was up to.

  "What are you doing, Lee?"

  "I—" She hesitated, the sound of her swallow audible in the shadows. "I thought we...that you...I wanted..."

  Her trembling voice ended in another swallow. Derrick waited but she didn't say anything else. And she didn't roll away from him either, he could still see her silhouette, a darker shadow among the other shadows. She was on her side, facing him, and damn if he couldn't feel her gaze focused on him.

  He closed his eyes, scrubbed one hand across his face and blew out a frustrated breath. "I'm supposed to believe that after the way you shut down earlier?"

  "I didn't shut down." Her voice was a little stronger, with an edge that might have made him smile at any other time—if he'd been in the mood. He wasn't.

  "What the hell do you call it, then, if not shutting down? Jesus, Lee, if you could have, you would have taken off running. Don't deny it because I saw it clear as day in those damn eyes of yours."

  "What's wrong with my eyes?"

  Not a damn thing but he sure as hell wasn't going to tell her that, even if she was starting to sound a little angry. "Trust me, you shut down. And I got the message loud and clear."

  "There was no message. And I didn't shut down. Or if I did, it wasn't the way you thought. I—" She hesitated, pulled in a deep breath, released it in a rush with her next words. "You surprised me. I didn't know how to act. I...I thought you were teasing me."

  The vulnerability in her voice sliced through him, awakening a different kind of protective urge, one he wasn't used to. He shoved it away and reached for her hand, pulled it against his aching dick.

  "I wasn't teasing." He moved her hand away, released it. Slid closer to the edge of the bed. "Go to sleep, Lee."

  "I don't want to."

  The need in her voice damn near did him in. Instead of acting on it, he tossed the covers aside, swung his legs over the side of the bed. He couldn't do it. Couldn't sleep in the same bed with her, couldn't stay this fucking close to temptation. He'd grab the sleeping bag from the loft and crash in the corner. Or maybe his truck. Yeah, definitely his truck. That would put enough distance between them—

  Except he never got that far because a small hand closed over his arm, the trembling fingers unraveling the last of his defenses. He turned and rolled, pinned her body beneath his so fast that she squeaked in surprise.

  He pushed up on his elbows and caught her face between his hands. Dipped his head and captured her mouth. There was nothing gentle about the possessive kiss. Nothing sweet or tender or reassuring.

  He pulled away, struggled to control his breathing as he stared down into the pale shadows of her eyes. "Don't play games with me, Lee. Not unless you like losing."

  The words, uttered in a harsh growl, were meant as a warning. Meant to frighten her. To make her stop and think about what she was doing. She'd push him away and he'd roll over. Go to the loft to grab that sleeping bag then go out to his truck so they could both get some fucking sleep—

  Instead of pushing him away, she wrapped her legs around his waist and rocked her hips against him.
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br />   "This doesn't feel like losing to me."

  Something snapped inside him. Not control—he'd lost that the very first time he'd kissed her, back at her apartment, maybe even before then, when he'd first seen her walk into the bar. This was something even more basic, something in the very core of him that he couldn't name, that he had never known existed.

  He dipped his head again. Caught her mouth in an explosive kiss that left him trembling. Deep. Hot. Wet. Possessing and claiming. Surrendering.

  Her legs tightened around his waist as she pushed against him—not to push him away, but to roll him to his back. He wrapped his arms around her, taking her with him. Groaned as she settled on top of him. The heat between her legs seared him but it wasn't enough. There were too many layers between them. He wanted—needed—inside her. Now.

  But she'd already taken control.

  Lee broke the kiss, sat up and rocked her hips against his aching cock. Slow and hard, again and again. He reached for her, snagged the hem of her thin shirt and tried to drag it up but she slapped his hands away and reached for his shirt instead. Her fingers trembled against his heated skin as she pushed the material up his chest. Her breath was ragged, quick and almost desperate when the shirt caught on his arms.

  He levered himself up, grabbed the shirt with one hand and yanked it over his head. His arms closed around her and he dipped his head, caught the tight peak of one nipple between his lips and pulled it into his mouth, licking and sucking. Her body shuddered, nails digging into his arms as her head fell back.

  She shuddered again and pulled away. Ran her hands along his bare chest, teased his flat nipples with the tip of one finger.

  Then she pushed against him, forcing him to his back, and brushed her mouth against his.

  "My turn." Her breath was a warm whisper against his lips. Teasing. Promising. He lifted his head, tried to catch her mouth for another kiss but she was already gone, sliding down his body, that hot mouth trailing fire along his skin.