by Golland, KM
She laughed. ‘Was there anything else?’
I shook my head. ‘No, thank you.’
As I bit into my sandwich, humming with delight at the tangy zest of the mint sauce connecting with my tongue, I noticed Derek’s amused face.
‘What?’ I mumbled around my mouthful.
‘That’s disgusting.’
I swallowed. ‘How can you say it’s disgusting if you haven’t tried it?’
‘I don’t want to try it.’
‘Well, good, that’s your loss then. And anyway, I wouldn’t share even if you begged me to. I do not share mint sauce.’
‘I’m sure I could get you to share if I really wanted you to,’ he said arrogantly before biting into his own sandwich.
Pausing with mine only centimetres from my open mouth, I snapped my jaw shut and glared at him. You cocky cock popsicle.
‘Derek, let me fill you in on something. The only time I will share mint sauce with you is if you licked it off my tongue, and even then you would have to lick it hard.’
Derek swallowed his mouthful and rocked his chair forward with a thump. ‘Baby,’ he said while leaning forward and grabbing the back of my neck, ‘there’s only one way I lick, and it ain’t soft.’
He then pulled me forward to meet his mouth.
CHAPTER NINE
The kiss caught me off-guard, but holy hot vagina spasms, the taste of Derek’s tongue mixed with the mint sauce was by far the tastiest thing I’ve ever had in my mouth. And without sounding like a slutsky, I’ve had a few tasty morsels in that orifice during my lifetime.
Derek’s tongue was warm, wet, hard and controlling, his lips firm but soft all at once. With the loss of control over my voice box, I moaned as he brushed his fingers over my neck. The way his mouth skilfully dominated mine was both divine and aggravating. Carly Henkley is not one to be dominated.
Releasing me gently, a stark contrast to the way he captured me, I had to admit that both comparisons melded flawlessly together, the kiss pure perfection. Goddamn it, no!
‘I believe in compromise, Carly,’ he said as he pulled away and sat back in his seat. ‘You shared your mint sauce the way you wanted to share it, and I proved I could make you do it.’
What? You stuck-up, egotistical, game-playing egghead.
Embarrassed at being played by him, I stood up in a fit of anger, tossed my napkin on my plate and proceeded to exit the cafe. As I wrenched open the door, not only did the stupid bell on top of it jingle and piss me off further — because I hate those stupid things — but I also spotted Vice Principal Sidebottom with her critical stare. Argh! Just what I need, a Sidebottom grilling when the lunch hour finishes.
Feeling hurt — a feeling I was not used to because of the protective wall I had built around myself — I stormed along the footpath which led back to the school, wanting to get far away from Dickhead Derek and his dickhead games. I didn’t appreciate being treated like a pawn. I hated pawns and I fucking hated chess ... last time I checked, castles were stationary. They’re not supposed to move. Stupid game.
‘Carly! Carly, wait!
My pace quickened when I heard Derek calling from behind. I was no martial artist, but I would sure as hell dig my shellac nails into his cheeks if I needed to, not to mention perform the trachea-jab self-defence move that Lexi showed me a couple of months back.
‘Carly, hold up,’ Derek said as he grabbed my arm.
I wrenched it free and kept walking. ‘Don’t fucking bother.’
‘Wait! What did I do?’ he asked with a tone of surprise.
Stopping, I spun around and glared at him. ‘I’m not a toy, Derek. I don’t like to be played with just so you can get your kicks and prove a point.’ I turned and began walking again, feeling tears start to pool in the corners of my eyes. Oh, no you don’t. I am not going to cry. Screw him.
‘Carly wait! I didn’t mean —’
‘You didn’t mean what?’ I interrupted, turning to face him once again. ‘To kiss me in a public place just so you could demonstrate some form of male chauvinistic dominance?’
Stepping forward, I poked my finger at him to make a point. ‘I may not be the settling down and marrying type. I may not be the type you want to take home to meet your mum. Hell, I may not even be the relationship type, full stop. But I can tell you what type I am. I’m the don’t-fuck-around-with-me type. The don’t-use-and-abuse-me type. The —’
Before I could cement just the type of person I was, Derek grabbed my face and kissed me once more, backing me up until I was pressed against a telephone pole.
My hands found his head and slid on the short stubble that was his hair. As our tongues ardently fought with one another’s and our lips competed for the upper hand, I was unable to help myself, gently digging my nails into his scalp and slowly dragging them down until I found his neck and shoulders.
I pushed him back, needing to catch my breath and bearings. ‘Stop. Don’t. I can’t.’
‘Carly, I wasn’t playing with you in the cafe. I wanted to kiss you ... I want to kiss you,’ he said as he leaned forward and seized my mouth for the third time in less than ten minutes.
I tried desperately not to welcome the intrusion when, truth be told, the intrusion was more like a welcome guest. A guest that I wanted to show some hospitality to even though my head was telling me not to. It was screaming: Don’t give in to him. He has the capacity to break your heart.
I’d come to the conclusion a long time ago that if I never handed a man my heart in its entirety, it would never be rendered vulnerable enough to break. I was the keeper of my heart. No one else.
Pulling back slightly, my lips left his, but lingered just long enough for one last featherlight kiss. They were traitors, wanting the soft caress of his mouth when they knew it would only leave me in turmoil.
Derek searched my eyes when I parted from him completely. ‘You don’t believe me, do you?’ he asked, the question more of a statement.
‘No, I don’t,’ I answered honestly.
‘Tell me what I have to do to prove to you that I’m not fooling around?’
‘I don’t know, Derek. I don’t know what to tell you. I ... I ... I’m not used to this,’ I answered painfully, my body slumping and my head dropping in surrender.
Raising his arm to rest it on the pole above my head, he relaxed his posture and leaned into me, lifting my chin with his hand. ‘You’re not used to what?’
‘This,’ I gestured between us with my hand.
‘What? Attraction?’ he offered with a smile.
Yes, attraction, undeniable attraction. I am utterly attracted to Derek. That’s all.
I nodded.
‘So you do like me,’ he said with a boyish grin.
I shoved his shoulder light-heartedly. ‘Shut up! You know I do.’
‘No, I don’t. I honestly thought you stood me up when you cancelled our date.’
‘I didn’t stand you up. I was really sick. I promise.’
He touched my lip just lightly. ‘I know that now.’
The question, with regards to the supposed happenstance of our meeting today, sat on the tip of my tongue, when Ms Sidebottom walked past, clearly taking note of both my and Derek’s positions against the pole.
Her expression was one of disdain. ‘Miss Henkley, need I remind you that you are in view of the students currently playing on the school grounds.’
‘No, Ms Sidebottom. I was just —’
‘In the middle of a demonstration,’ Derek interrupted, not bothering to look in my vice principal’s direction.
‘Demonstration?’ she asked, incredulously.
‘Yes,’ he replied, pushing off the pole with his arm and stepping toward her.
Her eyes widened in surprise as he approached her.
‘I was explaining to Miss Henkley the effects of smoke inhalation. Do you know what smoke inhalation injury is?’ he asked, his voice low and seductively suggestive.
‘Of course I do,’ she stuttere
d, feigning insult.
Derek nodded as if for her to continue. ‘Well?’
‘It is the effects of breathing in smoke from a fire,’ she answered haughtily.
‘To put it mildly, yes,’ he said, moving closer to her yet again. ‘But to put it more accurately, it is injury caused when inhaling or being exposed to hot gaseous products of combustion.’
Derek spilled the informative words from his mouth like a song without the need of a tune. His aura was one of pure sexual intoxication.
I watched with amused curiosity as Ms Sidebottom submitted to Derek’s instruction as if she were a cobra being charmed with a pungi.
Derek continued: ‘The hot smoke can injure or kill through a combination of thermal damage, poisoning and pulmonary irritation and swelling. This is caused by carbon monoxide, cyanide and other combustible products,’ he explained and then stopped.
Ms Sidebottom waited for him to continue, but Derek just stood there and put his hands in his pockets before rocking back on his heels. ‘That is what I was demonstrating.’
Realising that his ‘demonstration of a demonstration’ was done, she took a step back and gave us both a faux smile. ‘Right ... well ... thank you very much for that information. But maybe the demonstration could be done elsewhere in future,’ she said, as she stepped around Derek and made her way back to the school.
When Ms Sidebottom was out of earshot, I let out a laugh. ‘I can’t believe you just seduced my vice principal.’
‘Seduced? That was not seduction, Carly. I can show you sed—’
I ignored his seductive intent and butted in. ‘Then what the hell was that?’ I asked bewildered, and with my hands gestured to the space they had occupied.
‘A distraction.’ Derek grinned mischievously, then sauntered closer.
I put out my hand and held him at bay. ‘No.’
His tongue darted out of his mouth and traced his bottom lip. ‘Why?’
‘Because you’re a terrible kisser,’ I explained, lying through my teeth.
He smiled and pushed his stone-hard chest into my hand, the force buckling my arm. ‘Then help me improve.’
Before I could rebut any further, Derek’s tongue was exploring my mouth once again, his strokes slow, tender and utterly delicious. I melted into the kiss. I couldn’t help it. It was a meltworthy exchange.
After what seemed like a lifetime in pash-paradise, he pulled away. ‘Was that better?’
‘No. You need so much more practise,’ I slurred, still in a euphoric state.
‘Well, that being the case, our date is now Friday night.’
‘I’m busy,’ I lied, breathing heavily as I stared into eyes that were the sky’s mirror.
‘Carly,’ he said in a stern voice. ‘I’m fucking taking you out this Friday night and putting my mouth to further use. Don’t argue with me.’
I didn’t argue. How could I?
***
Friday came round rather quickly, and I soon found myself trying to come up with an excuse to cancel. ‘What if I told him I had perma-crabs?’ I explained to Lib.
‘Perma-crabs? What’s that?’ she asked, her tone and lack of interest in what I was saying clear from her decision not to make eye contact with me. Lib was completely engrossed in my Shop Til You Drop magazine, both she and Sasha comfortably splayed across my bed.
Standing in front of my full-length mirror, I frustratedly adjusted my black leather skirt which came to mid-thigh. ‘A permanent case of crabs.’
Lib lifted her head with a dumbfounded expression. ‘You are such an idiot. And you are your own worst enemy, you know.’ She returned her gaze back to the magazine and flipped the page angrily.
Sighing, I sat on the bed next to her. ‘I’m getting those,’ I said sulkily as I pointed to a pair of Iron Fist heels. ‘I ordered them yesterday.’
She smiled, but didn’t look up at me. ‘They are hot! They’ll suit you.’
‘Hmm,’ I mumbled, as I twisted a ring on my finger.
Libby closed the magazine and gave me her full attention. ‘Okay, Carls, what’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Don’t lie. You’re not very good at it.’
‘I’m not lying.’
‘You are the queen of equivocation.’
‘Don’t use your namby-pamby teacher vocab on me.’
‘Look,’ Lib said with an aggravated sigh, ‘you can either tell me what’s wrong and get it off your chest in the hope I can help, or you can continue to sulk and wallow in your own pathetic self-pity. It’s your call.’
Dramatically flopping onto the bed, I was ambushed by Sasha as she seized the opportunity to lick my ear. ‘Sasha! Stop it.’ I pushed her back to a safe distance and scratched her belly in order to keep her wayward tongue at bay.
‘So now you’re going to use evasion tactics are you, and not answer my question?’ Libby asked.
‘I’m not deliberately trying to evade your question. I don’t know what’s wrong.’
‘You’re sceptical about Derek. Why? He seemed nice enough.’
‘I never said I was sceptical.’
‘Queen of equivocation, enough said,’ Libby stated smugly as she rested her head in her hands.
A frustrated groan escaped my mouth. ‘I like him, all right.’
‘Aaand ... you didn’t like any of the copious other men you have dated?’
Sitting up again, I shot her a distasteful glare. ‘You make me sound like a whore. I’m not a whore, Lib. I’m just not fond of tying myself down to someone.’
‘So what’s different? Who said you have to tie yourself down to the firefighter?’
‘No one. I don’t.’
‘So what’s the problem then?’
‘He’s different.’
‘How?’ Lib was firing questions at me left, right and centre, backing me into that proverbial corner that no one wanted to be in.
‘He gives me heart palpitations, all right? I lose my sense of control when I’m around him. I don’t like it.’
She rolled onto her side and smiled emphatically. ‘Carly has a big girl crush.’
‘So.’
‘So, it’s good. First there’s a crush, then comes love,’ she said before laughing and continuing, ‘then comes marriage. Then comes a baby in a baby carriage,’ Libby sang, replicating the young girls in the yard at school.
‘Ha ha, you’re so funny,’ I spat sarcastically, huffing as I stood up. ‘You suck. Now get out, so I can finish getting ready.
She laughed and hummed the stupid taunting tune as she exited my room.
***
I spent the next hour conducting my own inner personal call to arms. The mission: reiterate that I was thirty-five, mature and not in the least bit like a school girl with a crush. Yes, I was unequivocally attracted to Derek. And yes, he kind of made me weak at the knees, but that was it. I was now of the mindset that he was just simply fucking sexy on an epic scale. And it was that total sex appeal that wreaked havoc upon my usual demonstrative self. I was going to have fun with him like I had with all the other guys I dated. He. Was. No. Different.
Pinning the final tendril of loose hair to the top of my head, I assessed myself in the mirror as I mentally repeated that mission to myself, hoping the repetition would actually have me believing it. My white Wayne Cooper tail blouse sat effortlessly over my black leather skirt. And my eyes, as per usual, were a seductive smoky grey. As I pulled on my black patent five-inch heels, there was a knock at the door.
‘I’ll get it!’ I shouted to Lib who probably had no plans of lifting her arse from the couch anyway.
I quickly shuffled along the hallway and past the lounge when Lib let out a long whistle. Halting in my tracks, I back-stepped until I was standing at the doorway. ‘Behave,’ I warned.
‘Since when do I not?’
‘You have your moments,’ I reminded her.
A knock sounded again.
‘You’d better get that,’ she chorused in a pr
ovocative singsong voice.
Stomping out of the room like a toddler, I made my way to the front door and yanked it open. ‘Hi —’
Sweet mother of twat tingles. The gush of air from the door’s movement, or his aftershave or the sexual magnetic field that was radiating from his body, nearly had me stumbling backward. The man before me screamed intense eroticism.
Derek was standing on the front doorstep wearing a white shirt and black jeans, a pair of mirrored aviators a seductive screen for his eyes. ‘Hey,’ he said with an upward nod.
Mouth, tongue, vocal cords, teeth ... for fuck’s sake, work in unison, please! I tried to speak, to say the simple word he greeted me with in return, but I failed on all counts. I could only comprehend that he reminded me of Maverick from Top Gun.
The sound of skittering paws on hardwood flooring broke my Kenny Loggins head-karaoke.
Spinning around to where the approaching noise was coming from, I spotted Sasha barrelling toward us. ‘Oh, no! Sasha, no, stop!’ I yelled, finally finding my voice.
Sasha did what Sasha always did when the front door to Libby’s and my house opened — she jumped on whoever walked through it.
I couldn’t stop her. It was either put myself in between her and Derek and ruin my outfit, or let her clean him up.
I opted for the latter.
‘Look out!’ I screeched.
Sasha launched herself at Derek and, to my surprise, he caught her quite happily.
‘Whoa! Who’s this?’ he laughed as she tried to lick his face.
‘This is my golden retriever, Sasha. I’m so sorry.’
Looping my fingers around her collar, I guided her back to ground level with Derek’s help, then awkwardly led her down the hallway and out the back door. ‘Naughty girl, Sasha. No Schmackos for you. Did you hear that, Lib?’ I shouted. ‘No Schmackos for Sasha.’
‘Whatever,’ Libby called back.
Sliding the back door closed, I turned around to find Derek a mere metre away from me, aviators now hanging from the dip of his shirt.
‘I must admit that when I planned for a cute blonde to jump me and lick my face, I was expecting it to be you.’
I swallowed, then, remembering my pep talk from earlier, sucked in a confident breath and stepped up against him, pushing my breasts into his chest. ‘The night is still young.’
