The Warrior: DERRICK (Cover Six Security Book 4)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  His chest. His stomach. Lower, along his side and down to his hip. Trembling fingers snagged the waistband of his boxer briefs, slowly eased them down until his cock sprung free. His breath caught in his chest and he froze, forced himself to remain still as her fingers slowly touched him, tracing the length of his cock from the base all the way to the tip and back again.

  Slow.

  Teasing.

  Torturous.

  He slid his hands into her hair, fisted his fingers in the silky strands. Wanting to pull her away. Wanting to guide her mouth to his cock. Needing all of it and more.

  Needing her.

  And then, fuck, her mouth was there, sliding around his cock. So fucking hot and wet. Her lips closed around him, taking him in, all of him, down to the base and back up again. Over and over. Slow. Fast. Slower still, savoring every inch of his engorged flesh.

  He rocked his hips against her mouth, desperate for more of her touch. Her heat. Desperate to feel that sweet fucking tongue swirl around the sensitive tip of his cock. And damn, it was too much. Not enough. Just right. Fuck, he didn't know what it was, only knew he didn't want the torture to stop.

  No, he didn't want it to stop, but he didn't want to come this way. He wanted to be inside her. To feel the heat of her tight passage closing around him. Squeezing him as he drove into her. Wanted to hear her soft sighs and moans as he plunged into her, over and over and over.

  He tightened his fingers in her hair, eased her mouth from his cock and pulled her up his body to kiss her. Slow and deep, hiding nothing, holding nothing back.

  Lee broke the kiss, her breathing harsh and fast, echoing his own. She said something, her voice so soft and quiet he couldn't make out the words. Then she was gone, reaching for something beside the bed. He heard the rustle of stiff fabric, the slide of a heavy zipper. Heard her mutter in frustration as she rummaged through something, heard a small whisper of triumph before she moved back to him and pressed something into his hand.

  Small. Square.

  A condom. Jesus, he hadn't even stopped to think, had been so fucking focused on Lee and what she was doing to him that he'd nearly forgotten. He tore open the package, quickly sheathed himself, then reached for Lee.

  He kissed her, pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, wondered if she could see the grin on his face. "I'm glad you thought to grab some because I sure as hell didn't."

  "It wasn't me. I found them in my bag, earlier. I think TR must have put them in there."

  TR. Damn her. He'd wring her silly, romantic, matchmaking neck when they got back—right after he thanked her.

  He pulled Lee across his body and claimed her mouth in another explosive kiss. His fingers slid down her side, curled around the waistband of her pajama bottoms and yanked them down and off. He started to roll, to pin her body beneath his so he could plunge into her, but she stopped. Shifted. Straddled his legs and forced him to his back. Her hands closed around his cock, teased him with several small strokes before she lifted her hips and slid down his hard length.

  Slow. So fucking slow, he thought he'd die from the exquisite torture. He curled his hands into the crumpled blankets beneath him, tilted his head back and clenched his jaw. Not moving. Barely breathing. Forcing himself to hand over the control she so obviously needed.

  Jesus. It wasn't enough. It was too much. It was everything and more and nothing at all. How long did he stay like that, not moving, holding himself still as she set the pace? Slow at first, then faster, finding the rhythm she wanted. Riding him, deep and hard, her muscles clenching around his cock with each rise and fall of her hips. Faster still, her breaths coming in sharp gasps. Searching. Seeking. Closer, closer still—

  Until her body shattered around his, her muscles clenching and unclenching around his cock, driving him to the edge. He grabbed her hips, set his own rhythm now. Deep and hard. Deeper, harder, her cries growing louder as another orgasm shuddered through her. He thrust one more time, plunging his cock deep inside her as his own climax exploded, blinding him with its force, erasing everything from his mind except here. Except now. Nothing else mattered. Not the past. Not the future. Just now. Tonight. Right this second, a frozen moment in time—

  And the woman draped against him, her body so trustingly cradled around his.

  They stayed that way for a long time, long enough that he may have even dozed. No, not that long, minutes only. Derrick gently eased away from Lee, stumbled into the closet of a bathroom to dispose of the condom then made his way back to the bed. He climbed under the covers, pulled Lee against him and closed his eyes. She shifted, snuggling even closer, then whispered his name.

  He pressed a quick kiss against her forehead and tightened his arm around her shoulders. "Get some sleep, Lee. We can talk in the morning."

  She stilled for a few seconds then shifted against him. Pushed up on her elbow and fidgeted with her arm.

  "Lee—" He started to ask what she was doing when she pressed something into his hand. He frowned, fingering the thin strand of rubber—no, not rubber, silicone. An unexpected chill raced over him as his fingers rubbed the small flash drive attached at the end of the bracelet.

  "Everything you need to know is on there."

  Had her voice cracked? Was that regret he heard in her soft whisper, or just his imagination? He ignored the chill gripping him and sat the bracelet on the small table beside the bed then pulled Lee closer. "We can talk in the morning."

  Derrick sensed her hesitation, wondered if she was going to ignore him and start talking now. But she didn't. She sighed and rested her head against his chest, curled her hand on his waist, just above his hip. Several minutes later, she was asleep, her breath slow and even.

  He closed his own eyes, willed for sleep to come, but it wasn't going to happen. He knew that but he still waited, longer than he should have. An hour later, he slid from the bed, each movement soundless. He tucked the covers around Lee, closed his hand around the silicone bracelet, and made his way over to the computer. Booted it up, waited for it to come to life, almost hoped it wouldn't. Almost hoped that there was no power left in the battery even though he knew better, knew it wasn't the computer's battery that powered it but rather the solar batteries that powered the cabin.

  He stared down at the bracelet for a long time. Finally set it aside and logged onto the internet. Browsed the latest news. Played an online game. Killing time. Prolonging the inevitable.

  His glance slid to the bracelet, stared at it as if it were a snake ready to strike a fatal blow. Then, cursing himself for what he was about to do, he grabbed the flash drive and popped it into the computer.

  Knowing already that it was a mistake. Knowing, with a sudden certainty that he didn't question, that this would be his biggest regret in a lifetime filled with them.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lidiya came awake slowly, reluctantly. There was a sense of well-being, of contentment, clinging to her and she didn't want to disturb it. When was the last time she'd felt like this? Too long. So long, she couldn't remember. Not since her parents had been murdered. Not before then, either, not really. There'd always been that sense of worry, of fear, of looking over her shoulder and wondering if today would be the day. If today would be the end.

  That feeling was still with her but it had faded, becoming nothing more than the faintest background shadow, eclipsed by the contentment now warming her. If it was a dream, she didn't want it to end. She wanted to cling to it. Enjoy it. Revel in it, at least for a little while longer.

  But it wasn't a dream, not unless she was dreaming with her eyes wide open. She stared at the ceiling above her, at the rough wooden beams and painted sheetrock. She turned her head to the side, felt another kind of warmth spread through her when she saw the indentation of Derrick's head on the empty pillow. Memories of their tangled bodies drifted through her mind and she closed her eyes, imagined he was still in bed, his strong arms cradling her so protectively. They had slept together the other night as well,
their bodies tangled together, but last night had been different somehow. Something had changed and she felt the first stirrings of the connection between them.

  The first stirrings? No, not really. She'd felt that connection before, months ago even, long before she'd even met the man who called himself Chaos. But that connection had been in her head, nothing more than a fleeting idea or thought or wish. The connection she felt now was in her heart, accompanied by the faintest promise of possibilities. Had Derrick felt it too? Maybe. She thought so, was positive something had changed for him as well. There was absolutely no reason for her to feel that way and the rational part of her mind—the logical part—threw up a wall of explanations, the biggest being that she was placing more importance on the sex than she should.

  She quickly silenced the rational part of her brain. Maybe she was placing more importance on the sex than she should and reading way too much into things, but she didn't think so.

  She stretched, rolled to her side and reached across the empty bed, wondering where Derrick was. She didn't hear him moving around, didn't smell any hint of coffee or food. Maybe he was outside. That must be it—if he was in the cabin, she'd feel his presence, would somehow know he was here in a way that didn't make sense.

  She rolled to her back and stretched once more. She'd get up, put on some coffee so it was waiting for him when he came back in. Hot coffee would be perfect, warm and welcoming against the chill she felt in the air around her. The temperature must have dropped a little during the night, something Derrick must have expected to happen since TR had included a sweatshirt among the clothes she bought.

  Lidiya pushed the covers away, shivered a bit as cold morning air washed over her. It was chillier than she had expected, which made her wish even more that Derrick was beside her. She would snuggle against him, sigh as his arm closed around her. Maybe he'd kiss her. No, she would kiss him. And then, maybe—

  She glanced at the bed, swallowed a small sigh of longing, then pushed to her feet. Coffee first, then she'd wash up and change. And then...well, they had the whole day in front of them. She knew Derrick would want to talk, knew he'd have questions for her. And she would answer them, as well as she could, and hope she didn't have to tell him everything.

  She turned, took one step toward the kitchen, then stopped. Derrick was sitting in the chair adjacent to the love seat, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his feet crossed at the ankles. His arms were braced along the sides of the chair, his hands curled around the front, his fingers loose and relaxed.

  But he was still. Completely, utterly still. He stared at her, those vivid blue eyes she found so mesmerizing completely void of warmth. Of emotion. They were cold, so cold and flat and empty.

  A chill washed over and she shivered. Folded her arms in front of her, shielding herself, suddenly feeling vulnerable, and shivered again. Forced a smile to her face, felt it falter and disappear. Derrick never looked away, never even blinked, just impaled her with that glacial stare until she was certain she'd turn into a block of ice, frozen for all eternity.

  She dragged her gaze from his, the effort leaving her limp and drained. She moved to the dresser, grabbed a pair of jeans and socks and the sweatshirt and quickly pulled them on, donning them like armor. She needed the illusion of protection they provided—as if anything could really protect her from the stranger sitting in that chair, staring at her with soulless eyes.

  She stepped into the boots, sat on the edge of the bed and quickly laced them. She should say something, needed to do something to break this suffocating silence. "D-did you want me to fix coffee?"

  Her voice wavered and cracked, the whisper echoing around them as loudly as if she had shouted. Derrick didn't answer her, gave no indication he had even heard her. She moved forward, stumbled in the new boots, caught herself and kept going. If she could somehow get to the small kitchen, if she could manage to do something as mundane and ordinary as brewing coffee, then everything would return to normal. Derrick would stop watching her with those cold, vacant eyes—

  "Sit down, Lidiya."

  And with those three words, with the way he pronounced her name, she knew it was over. Her fears had become reality. Derrick knew. He knew everything.

  She stumbled to a stop, her gaze darting to the computer. The screen was lit, covered with text so small she couldn't see it from where she was standing. She didn't need to see it, knew what it was even before she saw the small thumb drive hanging from the front of the computer. Her bracelet, the one containing all her secrets.

  Her family's secrets.

  "Sit down."

  He repeated the words, his voice oddly calm. Ordinary. Like he was getting ready to have a regular conversation over morning coffee with one of his buddies. Only he hadn't used her name this time and she couldn't help but wonder why.

  She knew why. Knew the sound of her name probably sickened him. Her own stomach twisted and lurched, threatened to empty itself right then and there. Lidiya pressed a hand against her middle, hard, refusing to embarrass herself by being sick in front of him. Would he notice? Would he even care?

  Yes, he'd notice—and no, he wouldn't care. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her get sick. Her entire life was spiraling out of control and there was nothing she could do about, had never had control to begin with—but she could control this, at least.

  She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, willed her stomach to unclench and settle. Then, her steps heavy and slow, she made her way to the loveseat and lowered herself to the edge. She folded her hands together, placed them in her lap, and stared straight ahead, at the damning words filling the computer screen.

  "You're The Butcher's granddaughter."

  Lidiya flinched at the words, so casually thrown at her. Other than that, she didn't move. Didn't speak. What was there to say? He knew the truth now, she couldn't deny it.

  The Butcher. Her grandfather. Her own flesh-and-blood. A memory flashed behind her eyes, as clear as if she was watching it unfold on a movie screen in front of her.

  Her grandfather, larger than life with gray eyes so like hers and a wide smile on his broad, sturdy face. A hand, big and strong and calloused, cradled her smaller one as they walked through the park. She skipped along beside him, anxious to reach the merry-go-round and ride the magical horses. His rich laughter floated in the warm Spring air as he cautioned her about patience, the words a mixture of English and Serbian that she didn't really understand. It didn't matter because he was her grandfather. She loved these little outings they took, loved the make-believe stories he told her. She loved him—

  Until they found out what a monster he was. Until they learned about the crimes he'd committed against humanity in the name of a war that had never really happened. Murder. Rape. Torture. Hundreds of men and women and children, their lives cut short on his orders. By his own hands. By his own brutality.

  Lidiya had been four the day the men came to take her grandfather away. She hadn't understood it then, only knew that something bad had happened to make her mother cry and to make her father hang his head in shame. They had moved then, far away from the tiny house in Oregon, and she had become Lidiya Rose Stephenson. A new person. A new start.

  It wasn't until later that she finally learned what had really happened—her grandfather had been found guilty of his long-ago heinous crimes, had been tracked down to their house and whisked away to face his judgment. Had died in a prison in another country while waiting for his sentence. She knew...but she still didn't understand it. Couldn't reconcile the memories of the laughing grandfather who had taken her to ride the magical horses with the monster he truly was.

  And then, five years ago, they had discovered just how deep The Butcher's legacy ran. The half-brother her father had never met was carrying on her grandfather's work, only in ways that made her grandfather's crimes pale in comparison.

  "You don't deny it?"

  Derrick's voice, so cold and quiet, jerked her to the
present. Deny it? God, if only she could. Yes, she wanted to scream. Yes, she denied it. She wanted to deny it, wished with all her heart she could do just that. She wanted to scream long and loud and deny that the blood of monsters ran through her veins.

  But she couldn't. Not now, not when Derrick knew the truth. If he didn't, she couldn't deny it. Not anymore. Not when it was time to end it.

  She dug her nails into the flesh of her hands and shook her head.

  "No. I don't deny it."

  Silence stretched around them. Thick. Suffocating. Heavy with accusation. Yet she didn't move, she couldn't move, not when she knew the worse was yet to come. Had he read everything? Gone through all the incriminating files? Yes, he must have. Why else would he be watching her with those cold, empty eyes? No, she didn't look at him. She didn't need to, not when she felt the weight of his stare on her.

  "What's your real name?"

  She did look at him then, just a quick glance, and immediately wished she hadn't. She thought about not answering because he already knew, he must know, if he'd read through everything.

  "Lidija Rosa Stefanović. My parents changed our names after they learned the truth about my grandfather."

  "You expect me to believe they didn't know?" His voice held the faintest hint of emotion, the first she'd sensed in him yet: disbelief. Disdain.

  Disgust.

  She clasped her hands even tighter and shook her head, tried to keep her own voice empty of emotion. "My father's parents were separated. His mother moved here when she was pregnant with him, never told him the truth about his father. My father never met him until after my grandmother died, right after I was born."

  And Lidiya's grandmother had never told her father the truth: that his father had forced her into marriage. Beat her. Repeatedly raped and brutalized her until she somehow managed to escape. But it was too late, she was already pregnant.

  Lidiya sucked in a deep breath, held it until she was certain she could control the tears that threatened to fall. "My father never knew. Not—not until they came for my grandfather."