Dark Truths: Kiss Her Goodbye #2

by Royce, Rebecca

  I sniffed. “So not sexy?”

  “Everything about you is always sexy. Come here.” He gently pulled us both onto our knees. Chest to chest, my already pebbled nipples stung as they pressed into him. I tugged at his pants, and he undid my jeans. The tears were forgotten in the frenzy of the motion.

  “You on top.” The gentle easiness of earlier was gone. He bit down on his lip. “I need to get lost in you and you need to get there, too. Let’s do that. Let’s fucking make each other forget.”

  I loved that idea. Derrick moved back from me only long enough to grab a condom from the drawer next to the bed. I was glad he’d thought of it. I wasn’t anywhere near protected enough to do this skin-to-skin, yet.

  I sat back, getting my first look at his long, hard cock. There were no two ways about it. Derrick was huge. I gulped. It was a fine line with these things and there was such a thing as too big. Most guys wanted to believe they were on that edge, and they just weren’t. I wasn’t a small girl, I could handle a lot. Plus, there was the whole thing about men just thinking they were more impressive than they were.

  That wasn’t Derrick.

  For the first time in my life I was a little bit worried about how this was going to go.

  He came back over to me, getting back in his kneeling position but spreading his legs wider so that his cock sprung out in front of him. He held the package out to me. “Put it on me.”

  I nodded. “Sure.”

  With shaking hands he didn’t comment on, I rolled the condom onto his impressive length. Once done, I lifted my eyes to his. He crooked his finger to me. “Climb up my body. You ride me, just the way you want to; there’s nothing you can do that’s wrong, nothing that I won’t want. Take me in at your pace.”

  “You do know you’re fucking huge, right?”

  His grin was fast. “I do, actually.”

  Yeah… of course he did. I climbed up his body. “I’ve never done it this way before.”

  He grabbed onto my ass, squeezing it slightly. “You’ll like it, and I’ve got you.”

  I took him in my hand, once again feeling the impressive length of him. I couldn’t focus on that, only on taking him inside of me. The angle was tricky but actually I thought this might have been the smartest way to go about this. I could really handle his size, the movement, and the actual insertion myself this way.

  Inch-by-inch I took him in. Derrick closed his eyes, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Finally, getting him fully inside of me, a feat that took several minutes, I inched out, slowly. Okay, I grinned. I could do this. And he felt fucking fantastic. I wrapped my arms around his neck. Derrick held my lower back. I leaned away from him, keeping him deep inside of me at the same time. Only our hips moved. As I made this up as I went along, it worked pretty well.

  Pretty soon I couldn’t think at all. Derrick took over the movement, going faster than I had with jerks of his hips. Pleasure surged through me.

  Derrick made the best noises. Every pass of our bodies against each other made him moan, and I felt all the more powerful for doing that to him. The earlier build up had me more than ready, and it wasn’t long until I came hard.

  Colors danced in front of my eyes.

  But Derrick wasn’t done with me yet. Although I wouldn’t have thought it possible, it just took his finger on my clit to bring me back up again. He pushed harder while he rubbed my clit at the same time. I could hardly breathe. It was painful and yet so amazingly good at the same time. My breasts ached and my insides burned. Was it possible to die of too much pleasure?

  The next time Derrick did, too. We cried out together, and although I’d never done this before in my life I bit him. He yelped before he laughed. They were all the best sounds in the whole world.

  His bed was comfortable or maybe I was spent. It was possible it was both things. I lay on my stomach, Derrick drawing circles on my back. Every once in a while he’d catch the edge of a scar and it hurt, but I didn’t say anything. Why make him stop when I really liked it?

  Finally, he kissed the back of my neck. “Water?”

  I lifted my head. “I think I might have died.”

  He grinned at me before he tugged me over onto my side to face him. “Nope. You’re still here.”

  “That was fun.”

  He got out of bed and walked to the bathroom, reemerging with two glasses of water, one of which he handed to me.

  A thought dawned on me, something that he’d said before we got all hot and bothered and I lost track of life. “Does it hurt? Whatever injury took you out of baseball? Does it still hurt?”

  “I got what they call a SLAP tear three times, it’s a labral tear. A lot of people don’t need surgery, but I did. Three times. The last time, it just didn’t heal. I can still throw. Better than most people ever will, but not major league baseball good anymore. It doesn’t hurt now.” He touched his left shoulder. “But it did. A lot.”

  I scrunched up my face. “I’m sorry.”

  He lifted his eyebrows slowly. “Thanks.”

  Derrick sat down next to me on the bed. “We should eat dinner.”

  “I can try to cook.”

  He laughed. “I’m a good cook. I didn’t in Vermont. Those guys don’t know I can, and I wasn’t… feeling like they should know. I’ll cook. You come down and let me admire the light on you through the downstairs windows while I do it.”

  The thought struck me as funny, and I threw my head back, laughing. “Are you telling me to come look pretty?”

  He kissed my cheek. “Yep.”

  That’s what I thought. I didn’t feel very pretty right now, it might be a long time until I did, but yeah, I’d come downstairs and admire the light through the windows. I really didn’t have anything else to do just then, and for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t worrying about anything.

  Chapter 8

  I didn’t just stand and look pretty. He cooked steak, and I cut up some cheese and crackers for us to munch on while he did. I also opened up some wine. The company who opened up the house for him had stocked it with food.

  I leaned against the counter and watched him. “Did you decorate this place yourself?”

  He shrugged. “No. I had it gutted when the old man kicked it. Then I thought Alyssa and I would live here. But she wanted nothing to do with it. Back to Boston she went as fast as she could from here. So I hired a company to fix it up, decorate it. Why do you ask?”

  “It’s very loudly decorated and that doesn’t seem like you. Not the you that’s around when you’re not on camera.”

  Derrick looked over his shoulder. “I put that on pretty well, right?”

  “You do look pretty authentic as the playboy.”

  “Well, they’ve written their story about it. Alyssa died in a car accident, so they think. And I never got over it so now I break hearts everywhere. It’s fine. They don’t know I’m a psychotic killer and obsessed with you.”

  I waited for the jolt that should have come with that statement, but when it didn’t, I just decided I was getting more and more comfortable with the crazy.

  “There’s nothing here that has you anywhere. I mean not a picture.”

  He did that shrugging motion again. “I don’t really have things. Usually a bag or two. If I need things, I buy them and discard. I think there are boxes in the basement with some of my family’s stuff. Hey, you could redo the place if you don’t like it. Hire people. Make it so you like it.”

  My mouth fell open. “Derrick, I don’t think it’s appropriate at this stage for me to be redoing your mansion. We’ve been in bed together exactly once, and we don’t know each other as well as we should for that kind of thing.”

  He turned off the oven where he’d been cooking the garlic and headed outside to the grill. I’d never seen anyone do this before, cook garlic on the stove and then take it to the grill. What was he going to do with it?

  “How many times should we sleep together before you’ll redecorate my home?”

 
I followed him outside. “I don’t know. I’ll let you know. Is it safe for us to be doing this?” I stared up at the sky. Being exposed and outdoors had been something I’d been avoiding before I was taken and hadn’t had, except on Judson’s secure island, since. “Is it really secure enough to be grilling?”

  He pointed to the phone poking out of his pocket. “This house is as secure as anywhere can be. Actually more so than Jud’s house in Vermont. There’s a giant bubble around it of radar and signaling. If anyone tried to get here by land or sky I would know. Actually, water, too.” He looked at the lake. “Take your wine. Go sit by the lake. We’ll eat there.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed him. There couldn’t be anywhere actually safe, but if he was going to go hang out by the lake, I supposed it was safe enough. “I could become a shut-in if I’m not careful.”

  “I know.” He didn’t try to disagree with me, which both pacified and concerned me at the same time. Was I already giving off “close to the edge of losing it” vibes?

  On the deck near the water’s edge, I sat on a bright red painted wooden chair and watched the movement of the lake. It was… soothing. I’d never been the kind of person who wanted to sit around on vacations. I had friends growing up who used to like to go to Destin or Pensacola, sit on the beach all day, swim a little bit, go back to wherever they were staying and do the same thing again. I’d preferred vacations with activity. We’d tried the beach thing, and I’d loved it when Trace took me. Now with this, I was pretty sure I’d turned into one of those sit and don’t move people on vacation.

  Was this a vacation?

  Derrick was supposed to be teaching me how to kill people.

  Well… it was a break from the basement. That much was for sure.

  Derrick set a plate in front of me with the steak, garlic, and some asparagus he’d roasted before he took the other seat. The chair had clearly not be designed for a person of his size to sit comfortably in. I couldn’t help but think that he looked like a grown up sitting in a toddler sized chair.

  “Thank you for dinner. I’ll clean up.”

  He sipped his wine, and if the chair issue bothered him, he didn’t comment. Maybe people his size got used to it. “I’ll help you clean. I liked the cooking. It’s not a chore.”

  “No.” I cut into the steak, which looked to be cooked a perfect medium rare. “I insist.”

  “We’ll see.” The sun started to set over the lake. I could see why he’d wanted to sit out here. “How do you stay away from here? I think if this was mine, I’d want to be here, a lot.”

  He touched the top of my hand. “Maybe I’ll start spending more time here.”

  The steak was delicious. I hadn’t thought I’d ever get to do this kind of thing again. Food. Wine. Sunset. Pleasant weather. There was something so… alive about it.

  And I was. I wiped at the tears spilling from my eyes. “Sorry.” I tried to wipe them away. “I’m just going to be a wreck at your house until you’re sick of me.”

  Derrick set down his wine and leaned toward me to wipe the tears I missed off my face with his thumbs. “It’s because you’re safe. It’s been a long time since I cried. So long I can’t remember when. But I remember what you feel. You’re not weak. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m not going to get sick of you. Ever.”

  “Not going to put me on the street?”

  He shook his head. “As you’ve said that twice now, I’m going to assume that’s a real worry and not a joke. No, Everly Marrs, you will never be put out on the street by me.”

  I believed him. And despite the tears that stopped right after, the meat tasted delicious.

  * * *

  I woke, heart pounding in my ears. Derrick’s room wasn’t pitch black. He’d left a small light on in the bathroom for me. Well, I assumed it was for me. He’d put it on without much comment, crawled in next to me, and not said anything about it in the way that only Derrick seemed to be able to stay silent. The man could say a million things without ever opening his mouth.

  I’d expected more sex, but he’d made no move for that. I must have dozed off. But now here I was, trying to calm my heart, lying in the semi-dark room, wishing I’d never gone to sleep. I almost always had nightmares now. Would that go away? Were there therapists I could speak to that were somehow Alliance approved? Or what were we in this schism? Maybe I could just get more and more fucked up.

  Next to me, Derrick snored loudly. It wasn’t a small sound but rather an all-consuming noise banging off the walls in the room. I listened to him for a while, trying to find a pattern to the sound, and when I couldn’t, it just seemed to make the panic threatening to come over me even worse. I slipped out of bed.

  Derrick didn’t budge or roll over. He’d told me to kick him if he snored. I remembered that from the airplane, but I didn’t want to rouse him. I couldn’t just go around kicking people I cared about. I had plenty of aggression but none of it aimed at him.

  I used the bathroom, and when I came out, nothing was better. I wasn’t about to curl in a ball and cry—splashing water on my face helped with that—but Derrick still snored way too loudly for me to stay in the room. Maybe I was a princess and just needed to get over myself. Maybe I couldn’t deal tonight.

  I thought about locating one of the other five bedrooms and going to sleep in there, but now I was awake and likely to stay that way for the rest of the night. Besides, I didn’t even know if there were sheets on the beds in the other rooms. I could make up the bed myself if I had any idea where he kept them.

  The downstairs was chilly, and I rubbed my arms. The temperature must have dropped overnight. Derrick was a heating pad in the bed. I rubbed my arms and tried to ignore it. I’d been a lot colder than this in that basement.

  I curled up on his couch. A television on the wall beckoned me and after locating the remote on the large center table, I turned it on, keeping the volume low to not wake Derrick. I could still hear him snoring upstairs. I fooled around with the television system, eventually opening the internet browser that was one of the apps on the screen. I should have probably found some old black and white programming and just dozed. But my mind was awake.

  My thoughts drifted to Judson. They shouldn’t. He’d seemed pretty disinterested in me by not spending any time with me after that first night, even when I was at his house. Still, I couldn’t help it. I did a web search on rope play during sex. That was what he’d told me he liked and informed me I’d have to consent to the way he wanted it to be between us.

  I stared at the images that came up. The women in the photos were posed in all kinds of contorted positions, mostly putting things into their own vaginas. I sighed. It was interesting from a purely educational experience, but I couldn’t say that it titillated me. I didn’t really want to be those women, and in several cases, I wasn’t at all sure that my body could move in those angles. I shut off the query and shook my head. Was that what he wanted?

  I sighed. I’d probably never know. It wasn’t like I could ask him. I had no phone, no money, no way to communicate with anyone. I wasn’t a prisoner anymore, but I was still entirely dependent on other people, even when those other people were as accommodating as Derrick.

  I rubbed my eyes and grabbed the bright orange blanket that was on the side of the couch where I lay. I covered myself in it. Instead of the tying up thing, I put Derrick’s name into the engine and settled in to watch him pitch a game ten years ago.

  He’d still been married back then. I wasn’t sure how long Alyssa had been dead, but I thought I remembered it had been about five years now. How did I know that? I didn’t think anyone had actually told me about the date of her death. Had Ben? There were portions of that time with him I didn’t remember clearly.

  Maybe he talked about Alyssa’s death. I pushed away the thought. It didn’t matter right now. The Derrick pitching for the Yankees right there had been a married man. His hair was shorter, no man bun to be seen. That was a shame. His long blond hair was sexy as hell
. The man should never cut it.

  He’d been slightly leaner, too. He didn’t have an ounce of fat on him now but it was possible he’d gained even more muscle tone over the years. I didn’t know who the other team was. I yawned. Derrick threw the ball hard. The announcers remarked on it, and he had a particular movement of his neck that only he did, like it was a tic that was just his.

  He was beautiful and that body had been all over me like I was the best thing in the world just a few hours ago. Who would have imagined he was also a killer and a member of a secret organization currently at war with each other?

  I woke up to the sound of his voice. When had I fallen asleep?

  “It was a pretty boring game.” His voice was low. “Could put anyone out.”

  He took the remote from my hand. It was still dark outside. I really wasn’t thinking all that well. I rubbed my eyes. The television was off. Had he turned it that way?

  “Why did you come down here?” He picked me up.

  “Hmm.” I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “Woke up. Couldn’t get back to sleep. Wandered down here. Guess I fell asleep again.”

  He was quiet as he carried me back upstairs. “Did my snoring keep you up?”

  I hated this conversation, and I’d just started having it. “It didn’t wake me. I had a nightmare. I have constant nightmares. But then I couldn’t go back to sleep because of it. I’m sorry. I can sleep in one of the other rooms.”

  “No.” His response was fast and hard. “I don’t want that. I don’t want my woman sleeping in the other room because I snore.” He shook his head.

  Discomfort made my stomach clench. “Please don’t worry. I’m fine. I’ll learn to ignore it.”

  Derrick set me down in the bed. “I’m going to get you some ear plugs from the drawer and make an appointment to have it fixed.”

  I sat up fast. “Derrick, you can’t have surgery because of me. I’m not going to be responsible for someone going under the knife. I’ll get used to it. How I feel doesn’t matter that much.”