Red Hot Lovers: 18 Contemporary Romance Books of Love, Passion, and Sexy Heroes by Your Favorite Top-Selling Authors

by Milly Taiden

  Derrick places steaming plates in front of us, and the garlic mixed with fish is a delightful odor. “Wow, this smells amazing.”

  Paul lifts his glass in a toast. “To old friends, and new.” He winks at me, and I decide maybe I was being a bit harsh. Clinking our glasses, I notice Derrick’s jaw is clenched. Or maybe not.

  CHAPTER 21

  Dinner was delicious, and I’m not nearly as full as I would have been if we didn’t split things three ways. Paul and Derrick have been telling me funny stories about fraternity antics, and so far none of them have been inappropriate. I keep waiting for the asshat to show up.

  I swallow the last bit of champagne in my glass and wish it weren’t gone. I must have frowned because Derrick says, “I could open another bottle.” His smile is so sweet and I long to touch his lips. Hell, I want to kiss that mouth.

  Tempted as I am to say yes, I decline. While I can certainly hold my liquor, I’m not comfortable getting more than a slight buzz tonight. Derrick is on edge, and I keep waiting for the reason why.

  Paul, on the other hand, is quite drunk. Not quite slurring, his voice is loud. He reaches across and takes my hand. His grip is warm and not too tight. “So waitress or bartender?”

  “I’m a bartender.”

  Derrick’s eyes flash with anger, he clenches his jaw, and it makes me tense a bit. He says, “She’s also a competitive snowboarder.” Derrick stands. “Coffee anyone?”

  I’m not sure what’s going on, but I think I’m about to find out what has had Derrick so nervous all night. “I’d love some, thanks.”

  “Paul, coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  Before he can say more, Derrick speaks again, “How are your parents?”

  Paul waves him off, and leans forward while gripping my hand a little tighter. “Whatever he tips you, I’ll double it.”

  “What?”

  Derrick interrupts again. “Paul. It’s not like that.”

  I pull my hand away. “Not like what?”

  Paul’s voice gets crystal clear. “Do you like it hard and fast, Gretchen?”

  I sit back as tiny hairs on my body stand on end. Fuck. I don’t think I want to know where this is going.

  Derrick sits next to me and tries to take my hand. I pull away, and he says, “That isn’t what we have.”

  Paul is wearing a smug smile, and my voice sounds far away when I say, “Tell me what you mean.”

  He grins, and I have a sudden fear of the devil. “It’s quite simple. Find a girl a little down on her luck. One who’s been robbed, or who has totaled her car. Tip her heavily, and she’s willing to go out of her comfort zone for the rich boy.”

  He tilts his head at me. “Don’t tell me you haven’t caught on.” He sits back with his drink in his hand and chuckles. “What did he tip you the first time? Fifty?”

  Shit. I clench my teeth and glare at Paul as he cackles.

  “Sugar, I’d have given you a hundred.”

  Derrick’s chair scrapes against the wood as he stands and moves to Paul’s side. He gets in Paul’s face and says, “Shut the fuck up.”

  Derrick turns to me. “It’s not like that with us, I swear it.”

  My dinner rolls in my stomach and my hands get cold. He was setting me up to have rough sex with him? Like a fucking prostitute?

  So many of Derrick’s words replay in my head. “I take what I want if it’s offered.”

  “Look. My relationships are about sex.”

  “So we understand each other?”

  Paul smiles like the Cheshire cat. “Tell you what. I’ll triple it, because you must be fucking amazing to have my boy here so torn up.”

  His words snap me out of my daze, and I’m so angry I envision punching Paul and blood spurting out his nose. But I’m smart enough to know a hissy fit is not what I want to do in front of Paul.

  I stand calmly and walk toward my backpack. The strap is rough when I grab it tightly and go upstairs. A series of footfalls tap on the stairs as Jake and Ollie follow me like good friends.

  Almost at the top, I freeze and realize I’m going to lose it. I race to the bathroom and slam the door on the dogs. I crumple to the floor by the toilet and puke up dinner. I flush, but am still nauseated. Inhaling the septic odor makes dry heaves come, and yellow stomach acid burns its way up and into the bowl.

  Shaking, I stand and strip out of Nika’s clothes. I gulp straight from the faucet and swish cool water around my mouth. I spit and stare at my semi-naked body in the mirror. The bruises on my hips are purple, and I push against them to feel the pain. Fuck you, Derrick. I pull on my tight bike clothes. They hug my body like a second skin, and I wish they were bulletproof. Even though I don’t have a light on my bike, I’m getting the hell out of here.

  I rip my brush through my hair, leaving several strands behind and braid it. Casey’s outfit is in the corner. Shit. I’ve become a stupid girl. Prancing around in a fuck-me dress and heels while I let him boss me around. I’ll bet he was laughing when I asked him to stop over-tipping me, thinking he was getting a bargain.

  Just as I’m folding the jeans, someone pounds on the door. “Gretchen, I’ll take you home.”

  Fuck. I really don’t want to deal with Derrick, but riding my bike on the highway, in the dark, is insane. I open the door. “Fine.” I hand him Nika’s clothes. “I’ll wait for you in the car.”

  The clothes thud on the floor where he drops them, and he follows me down the stairs. When I walk by the granite counter, and toward the garage, I don’t even glance at Paul. But it doesn’t keep his mouth shut. “Damn, how could you not tap that? She’s got a body to go with that cock-sucking mouth. Bet she’d be up for a three-way if the price was right.”

  Derrick’s movement catches my eye and what I guess is the bourbon bottle shatters on the floor. It makes me flinch, but I don’t stop to look.

  Cold mountain air slices through my thin attire when I get outside. How could I have been so stupid? Derrick rushes to my door and opens it. I slide in without a glance toward him and let him shut it.

  The engine starts with a roar, and he peels out of the driveway. Great, just fucking great. Like he has a right to be mad. “Slow down and get over yourself.”

  Derrick takes his foot off the gas and lets the car coast. At the end of the road, he stops and turns to me. I refuse to look at him. “Gretchen, I swear to you. I never thought I was buying sex from you.”

  “You know what, Derrick? It doesn’t matter. This relationship has always been just sex. We agreed to it that night at the club, remember?”

  A lump is in my throat when I turn and stare out my side of the car. The light from the Land Rover’s headlights fades quickly to pitch black as I glance at the forest of evergreens on the side of the road. The onyx night is sprinkled with tiny pricks of light.

  The gearshift clicks into drive, and we continue on. When we get to the main street in town, Derrick says, “I don’t know where you live.”

  I turn forward. “Go toward Silverthorne. Gold Camp Road is up ahead on the right.”

  I direct him to my house. The tires crunch over the gravel driveway, and he parks behind Casey’s old Saab. The white paint glares back at us, and the brightness hurts my eyes.

  As I reach for the handle Derrick grabs my arm. “This is more than sex for me. It has been since I first laid eyes on you, Gretchen.”

  I yank my arm away. “I almost have enough money for my car now, so let’s call this done.” I shake my head. “It’s a shame this has to end. You were a damn good fuck.” I get out of the Land Rover, and the door slams with a solid thunk when I shut it.

  He waits until I get in the house before leaving, but I don’t turn to watch him go. Tears drip down off my chin, but I refuse to let him see me crying, so I don’t wipe them away. When I step in the door Casey, is on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. The smell of butter makes my stomach clench.

  “Whoa, Gretchen.” She comes to me, and I let her wrap me in her arms.
r />   I pull away with a sniff and say, “Shit. I left my bike in his car.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Casey knows me better than anyone, and me crying has to have her worried. But she lets me until I’m ready to talk.

  The pile of spent tissues is a small, white mound on the coffee table. I blow out the last bit of mucus I could possibly have and clear my throat.

  “Apparently Derrick thinks of women as prostitutes. He tips them heavily for sex.” I huff. Tears reappear, and I wonder why the hell I can’t control them.

  Casey picks up the tissues and shoves them in the empty box. She asks, “He’s been sleeping with other women he pays?”

  I shake my head. “No, I don’t think so. He’s been paying me. Only I thought he was just an overgenerous tipper.”

  “I don’t understand. Why would a guy like Derrick think he has to pay for sex?”

  “Because he likes it rough, so he finds a girl that needs money, hoping they’ll be willing to play for the cash.” I snort. “When he found me, it was his lucky day.”

  “He told you this?”

  “No, his friend Paul told me. I’ve never been more humiliated, because he offered me triple what Derrick tips me, like I’m some fucking whore. Paul acted like I should have known.” I get up, and the tissue box crunches when I squeeze it flat for recycling.

  “I don’t get it because, Gretch, rough sex isn’t that bizarre. Probably not what most people like, but hardly something one would have to pay for.”

  “I don’t get it either, but it doesn’t matter. We’re done.” Hot tears roll down my cheeks. What the hell’s wrong with me? A relationship based on sex is what I do. Only that’s not all I wanted with Derrick, was it?

  Casey pulls me against her chest. “Oh, honey. You were falling for him, weren’t you?”

  I breathe in her pine-scented shampoo and nod. Casey’s hand pats my hair, and I let her embrace seep into my being.

  She says, “I’ll go get your bike for you in the morning. You never have to see that asshat again.”

  ***

  Casey must have gotten up at the crack of dawn, because when I stumble out to the kitchen the aroma of coffee greets me, and my bike helmet is on the counter.

  Her pale face is full of concern when she looks up from her coffee. “Get your coffee, and come sit at the table with me.”

  Watching the black liquid splash into the red mug makes me think of the scalding coffee at Derrick’s, and my heart aches. I gulp a mouthful down, hoping it can cauterize the pain bleeding out. All I get is a burnt tongue.

  I slump in a wooden chair that seems too hard for my body. Casey moves eggs around on her plate. I’m not sure I want to hear what she’s about to say.

  I wave my hand toward me. “Bring it.”

  “Did you hit Derrick?”

  “What? No, why?”

  She lets out a big sigh, and her body relaxes. “He has a black eye and his hand was wrapped up. I thought maybe… I thought maybe things got physical last night.”

  My stomach lurches. “Oh God, Casey. No, Derrick isn’t like Rod.” Rod was the one that took rough sex too far. Our relationship was volatile. I couldn’t seem to stay away from the rush of fighting and make-up sex, angry sex that turned so hot I craved it. The day he hit me, I was done, and that’s probably what Casey thought when she saw Derrick.

  I say, “He must have fought with Paul. He was pretty pissed at him. The guy’s a pig.”

  “Do you think maybe he’s a big enough pig that he didn’t quite tell you the truth?”

  She’s swirling the coffee in her cup, and it bugs the crap out of me, so I reach over to grab her wrist and make it stop. “You talked to Derrick, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah. Don’t be mad.”

  “I don’t get mad at you, Casey.” I sigh. “What did he say?”

  “He said to tell you what Paul said isn’t what it sounded like. That even though you’re over, he wants to explain it to you if you’ll let him.”

  I set my cup down with a thump that makes coffee splash over the rim of my cup. “Fat chance.”

  “I kind of said the same thing. But I thought he might have hurt you, so I wasn’t willing to believe a word coming out of his mouth. But now I think maybe you should let him.”

  She reaches over and pulls my hand out of my mouth, and I realize I was biting my nail. “Gretch, he got in a fistfight with Paul. Something’s up here, and for your own peace of mind, you might want to let him explain.”

  I can’t imagine how you explain this one away, but I’m willing to appease Casey. “I’ll think about it. I’ve got to get ready for work.”

  I down the rest of my coffee even though my stomach is churning. I know I should eat, but I just can’t. Through the window over the kitchen sink, I notice snow has dusted the continental divide, leaving a frosty residue. The thermometer reads forty-four, and I don’t relish the cold ride to work on my bike.

  “Case?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Would you mind giving me a ride to work? I’m not sure my head’s together enough to not get hit by a car.”

  “Of course. Want me to pick you up, too? I only have one house to photograph today. Then we would have time to get an early dinner at the Baked Bean if you want.”

  I smile because Casey knows I won’t eat otherwise, and because I would do the same for her. “Okay. Thanks for having my back, girlfriend.”

  “Any time.”

  Knowing I have extra minutes, I linger in the hot shower and shave. The scrape of the razor against my legs is rough because I haven’t changed the blade in a while. Distracted with thoughts of how Derrick could possibly explain what Paul said leaves me with a bleeding ankle that stings when I rinse it off.

  I rub lotion all over my skin to combat the lack of moisture in the air. My bruises are turning yellow and green around the edges, and I recall Derrick’s words. “I don’t like that I hurt you, Gretchen.”

  Tears prick my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. I swallow the lump in my throat. I’m done wallowing over this man. Yeah, so I let him in closer than most people get, but you can bet I won’t be making that mistake again. Love is for the Caseys, Loris and Megans of this world. It’s clearly not for me.

  Cold air refreshes me when I step out of the bathroom. Steam follows me across the hall, but I easily shut it out with a slam of my bedroom door.

  CHAPTER 23

  A burning smell that makes me think dust is being cooked out of the heat vents wafts toward me. Fall seems to have arrived overnight, and the chilly day will mean the club restaurant will be slow.

  As I wait for my first customers, I pull out my phone and power it on. I had turned it off last night because I didn’t want to deal with any texts from Derrick. A stream of notifications is on my screen from him and Nika.

  I read Nika’s first. “I Quit! Cmg hm.”

  Wow, good for her. I know it might be weird, but I don’t want to lose Nika as a friend. I text back. “When will you be here?”

  She replies quickly. “5 min”

  Oh, boy, I wonder what she’s going to think when she sees Derrick, and I sure hope Paul left.

  I worry about her insecurities and text back. “Want to get coffee tomorrow? We can get fat at the Baked Bean. They have awesome desserts.”

  I glance around the restaurant, and we haven’t got any customers. I brace myself for Derrick’s texts and read them.

  “I have your bike and will drop it off in the morning.”

  “Nika is coming home tomorrow. I hope I didn’t ruin your friendship, she needs you.”

  Then I read the ones from this morning and notice by the time stamp it must have been after Casey got my bike.

  “I’m so sorry. I would like to explain everything. Please, when you’re ready, let me.”

  And within a minute of that text he sent another.

  “Gretchen, I’m not sure what love feels like, but I’ve never wanted to be with anyone the way I want to be with you. I
don’t mean sex. I want to smell your hair, touch your soft skin, and hold you tight. I want to laugh with you, and talk about nothing while I stare into your beautiful eyes. This hurts so damn much.”

  My throat gets tight, and it’s painful. I want to punch, kick or throw something. Every nerve in my body is firing, and I need to move. “Hey, Lyndsey?”

  She turns from the kitchen window where she was flirting with Rick. “Yeah?”

  “Could you watch the bar for a bit? I need to go down to the pro shop for a minute.” I slip my phone in my back pocket, and it’s hard against my butt.

  “Sure, take your time. I don’t think we’ll see anyone for a while.” She sips her cup of coffee with a slurp that reminds me of my empty stomach churning.

  “Thanks.” I walk briskly out into the cold day. The bright sun makes me squint, and I wrap my arms around myself. My shorts and polo shirt won’t do much to keep me warm, but moving will.

  My feet tap quickly as I run through the parking lot in a sprint and onto the main road. My legs are powerful, and even my obliques surge with power, as I race as fast I can go. Letting my anger push past the pain of my muscles, I don’t stop until I am about to collapse. Slowing to a walk, my lungs burn from the lack of oxygen, and I suck in cold air. Giving myself mere seconds to recover, I turn around and sprint back.

  When I get to the parking lot, my chest is heaving so hard I feel dizzy. Gulping in air, I bend over my thighs in exhaustion.

  What the hell? He thinks he might love me? What kind of fucking game does Derrick think he’s playing? Oh, no, I won’t be sucked in. He can screw over some other girl. This one’s done.

  I pull out my phone, delete every text he sent, and remove him from my contacts. I then go into my call history and block his number.

  By the time I return to the bar, I’m relaxed and focused. One douche rocket deleted from my life. I force a smile and prepare to move on.

  When I get to the kitchen I lean in the window. “Hey, Rick, would you make me a burger, please? I forgot to eat this morning.”