Megan, the never-ending peacemaker, pipes in. “I’m an all about touch girl. I love the feel of Nick’s skin. You know?”
Casey says, “And smells. I know it should be gross, but I love the smell of Jason’s sweat. My pheromones definitely dig his testosterone.” She has that moony, in-love smile on her face.
I joke. “He must love the smell of you too. He deals with those feet.” I flick down a low diamond, hoping Lori will take the trick and start off with a low club.
“Hey! My stinky feet get such a crappy rap. They aren’t that bad.”
Megan snorts. “You sure you want to go there? I remember a certain experiment last winter.” We all laugh, remembering how two male instructors spent almost a whole winter trying to determine which person in the locker room was putting their overwhelmingly pungent boots on the dryer each night, making the locker room stink every morning.
Casey grins and says, “What I remember about that experiment wasn’t my boots.” The day the guys figured out Casey was the culprit, Lori and Kaleb got caught making out in the ladies’ room.
She glances at Lori, who shrugs. “I like it all. Smells, touch, tastes, his eyes, his body. I like the way I know he loves me. Kaleb is the whole package. He’s so hot that sometimes I just have to drag him into the bathroom for some of his everything.”
Her candor makes us all laugh. Since Lori moved here she’s opened up a lot, and I’m happy she feels comfortable enough with us to joke around.
Lori leads with the three of clubs, and Casey follows with the four. Yes! I casually snap down the queen of spades and Megan glares at me, but she’s not angry. “Nice play.” She takes the cards graciously.
When the round is finished, I get up to refill drinks. Ice cubes clank against the metal shaker cup when I drop them in. I think about what Lori said about the whole package. For the first time, I’m with someone who is entirely it sexually. I do like the smell of Derrick’s sweat, the taste of him, the sound of his voice, and the feel of his—his everything. Except love, we’re both clear on that. Aren’t we?
I shudder a little and pull out my phone to check for a text. Nothing. My heart sinks because I haven’t spoken to Derrick in two days. I click off my phone and shove it in my back pocket with a sigh.
Pale pink liquid fills each martini glass halfway except mine. I fill my glass and then top off the other girl’s drinks with seltzer. Cards flutter while Meagan shows off her shuffling skills and I set down a drink for her and Lori.
When I return to the kitchen I gulp down a big swig of my cocktail. Barely feeling the burn of vodka in my throat, I pull out my phone. What the hell. I text Derrick.
“How’s Cleo?”
I return to the table with the two remaining drinks. I ask, “So what are the guys doing tonight?”
Lori says, “They’re playing poker at the big house.” Jason and Kaleb live in a large, log cabin–style house with six other instructors. A great place for parties, I picture the big, picnic-style table full of empty beer bottles and guys playing cards.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out hoping its Derrick.
“She’s just fine. How’s girls’ night?”
How does he know I’m at girls’ night? “Good. How’s your night?”
Casey leans over to see who I’m texting. Her voice sings, “Aww, he’s texting you.”
Cards slide across the table with a swish as Megan deals. Lori says, “He’s texting you in the middle of poker? He’s totally into you.”
“What? He’s at poker night?” I grab my drink because this news unsettles me.
“Yeah, Kaleb saw him at the grocery store and invited him to play.” Lori’s brown eyes study me, I hide my uneasiness, and the gulp I take of my drink is louder than it should be.
I say, “That was nice. I’m sure he’ll have a good time.” My phone vibrates on the table, and I find Derrick replied.
“I’m losing at poker.”
I smile and text back. “Good, you’re giving away some of that money.”
Gray dots dance, telling me he’s typing. “Maybe we should play. You can pay in clothes. ;)”
“Yo, quit sexting and pass your cards, Gretch.” Casey elbows me and tries to read what I’m typing.
I turn away from her and send the text. “Now that’s my kind of poker.”
I pick up my cards, sort them, and quickly pass three to Casey when my phone bleeps with Derrick’s reply.
“Where are you tomorrow night? Want to come over when you’re done? I can come get you.”
I curl my toes instead of letting out a squeal. I throw down a club and pick up my phone to answer.
“I’ll be in the weight room at the rec center until nine. Yes, come get me.”
I return my focus to the game and realize I don’t know what has been played. That doesn’t erase the grin on my face, or the way my body is tingling in anticipation of seeing Derrick tomorrow night. Yeah, I want his everything.
Chapter 19
“Save room for dinner, I owe you.” Derrick’s text makes me glance at the canned tuna I’m about to scarf down before going to the rec center. The fishy smell causes my stomach to growl, and I take a bite because I’m not going to last without something. I’ll bypass my snack later.
“What are you making?”
“I’m making trout almandine, steamed kale, and saffron quinoa.”
I salivate and shove another forkful of fish in my mouth. Dinner is going to be worth waiting for. I text back. “Wow, you know how to treat a girl.”
“That’s me, a full-service kind of guy.”
I smirk at that comment because full service is definitely on my menu. A glance at the time gets me moving so I won’t be late. I hop down from the counter, and the can clinks against bottles when I throw it in the recycling bin. I have to bike over and will need an extra fifteen minutes.
I double check to make sure I have what I need to do a quick freshen-up in the gym bathroom before leaving with Derrick. While a shower would be ideal, it’s not going to happen. The lace of the sexy underwear set I packed slips through my fingers and reminds me of the night outside the dance club. The thought of Derrick’s fingers under my dress makes my core flutter.
On impulse I race to Casey’s room and grab the black dress and heels. She won’t mind, and I recall Derrick’s gaze practically undressing me the first time he saw me in it. I think a fancy dinner calls for a something short and sexy.
I arrive at the rec center with minutes to spare. I’m sweaty and wish I had time to cool down before changing. The metal door clangs shut behind me and my bike shoes clack on the tile.
“Hey, Tina.”
An older woman sitting behind the front desk smiles up at me. “Gretchen, you look hot.”
I smile, thinking she probably means temperature. “I am. I’m running late today. Think I can get changed in two minutes?”
“Of course you can.” She has a gleam in her eye and sticks a pencil in her silver bun. Glancing down at her watch she says, “Ready, set, go.” I race across the hall to the bathroom, pulling off my shirt before the door slams shut.
I emerge disheveled, but dressed, in simple cotton shorts and a cute tee. “Ta-da!”
Tina hands me my time card as I jog by her. The clock clicks as it prints the time stamp at four on the nose. I fist pump. “Yes!”
I leave the chuckling woman and head to the weight room. Summer is slow, and I usually can get a workout in if I want. But after a late night with the girls yesterday and what tonight might hold in store for me, I’m not sure I have the energy.
The weight room is empty except for Nate sitting behind the desk. The odor of his sweat makes its way to my nose, and I resist the urge to grimace. Yeah, he’s so not making my pheromones take notice. I bet he worked out hard with not much to do during his shift.
Nate says, “Deadsville today.” He slings a backpack over his shoulder and offers me a fist bump. “Keep it real.”
I just nod. Sta
rk white machines and black plates of metal sit noiselessly. The beep of my phone signals it’s charging when I plug it into the outlet behind the desk and pull up a game. I’m going to spend the next few hours working up my appetite for dinner, and for Derrick.
***
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I’m a mess. I’ve washed all the stinky parts with baby wipes I took from Casey, brushed my hair out and shimmied into the tight dress. Now I’m trying to put on mascara without poking my eye out because my hands are shaking. I brace myself with my hand on the cold porcelain sink.
No wonder I don’t need foreplay, I can get myself worked up to a lather just imagining what might happen tonight. Holding the bathroom stall door open, I hop up on the closed toilet to view the full effect of the dress. Yeah, this ought to rev him up.
My heels click on the tile when I step back down. A text from Derrick rattles on the countertop. “I’m here. Should I come in?”
I tap out a reply as I walk down the hall to punch out. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
A whistle catches my attention and I smile at Tina. “Not too much?” I twirl for her. My light body spray reaches my nose, and I hope the exotic spiced scent covers the odor of any sweaty residue.
“Oh, it’s too much, but you pull it off beautifully. You’re a pretty girl, Gretchen.”
“That is so sweet of you to say, Tina. Thank you.” I slide by her and click my time card.
“You’re welcome. Now get out of here and off to the hottie you dressed up for.” She winks at me, and I grin at the way the word hottie sounds coming out of her mouth.
“No can do. I won’t let you walk to your car alone. Are you almost ready?”
Her face crinkles up in a smile. “You’re a sweetie too. Just let me grab my purse.”
Tina’s leather-soled shoes tap lightly on the tile as we make our way to the front door. I push the panic bar and the metal door sighs open. Seeing Derrick, I wave and hold my hand up in a stop sign to let him know I’ll be a minute.
When we reach Tina’s Honda I say, “See you tomorrow, and give Snuggles a hug for me.” I wave as I leave her and walk to my bike.
The combination cable lock clicks open, and Derrick’s Land Rover door slams at the same time. Clad in loose jeans, he struts over to me, and damn if he isn’t wearing a tight tee. Not the same one as the other night, but just as sexy. I’m not sure if I’m drooling, but I know my face shows my appreciation.
Strong hands take the bike from me and Derrick’s deep voice sends a tingle down my spine. “You wear that dress to work?”
“Yeah, you should see me spot in it.” I guess he’s envisioning me leaning over him as he lies on a weight bench, by the twinkle in his eye.
My nose detects his musky scent, and he says, “I may need to join this gym.”
I bump up against Derrick, and he grasps my hand. The skin-to-skin contact zings through me and makes me wonder if he’d be up for sex in the Land Rover because my knees are weak.
Muscles ripple along his back and arms when he hoists my bike into the back of the truck with ease. I glance around the parking lot and decide there are still too many cars for me to jump him here.
Derrick opens my door, and when I slide onto the cold leather seat he gazes at my legs. I think I hear him catch his breath. Of course, it could be wishful thinking because lust is clouding my logic.
It’s only a few miles to his house, but I really want car sex, and decide to make it happen. As he pulls out on the main road, I slither out of my panties. He glances at me, and a grin forms on his face.
“I think you’re up to something.” He squirms a bit in his seat.
“These are wet. What should I do?” I dangle my thong from a finger in his line of vision.
He snatches them out of my hand and holds them to his nose. Fudgesicles. My core is twitching uncontrollably.
Derrick says, “Yes, we do have a problem. I’m pretty good in this kind of emergency.” He glances at me and then takes the turn a little too quickly, throwing me off balance.
“I’ll just bet you are.” I slide down the seat and extend my right stiletto-clad foot onto the dash. This makes my dress hike up, and I reach down and touch myself.
In a breathy voice I say, “Hurry.”
We’re speeding, and he blows by the road to his house. Moments later we’re on the dirt road to the pond, and Derrick is forced to slow down.
I unbuckle my restraining belt and turn in the bucket seat to face him. The metal end thuds against the door, making it clear what I did. I have my legs spread wide with my feet firmly planted on the floor. I place a hand over his jean-covered dick. “Oh, dear, you need help too.”
He thrusts up against my hand. “Unzip me.”
I take it one step further and release his thick length through his underwear. The skin is silky smooth in my hand, and I get down on my knees to take him in my mouth.
“Fuck, that feels good.”
His heady scent spurs me on, and somehow Derrick manages to park. The seat motor hums as he moves it back. I sit back and ask, “Do you have a condom?”
Without a word he reaches in his back pocket and produces his wallet. When he pulls out the foil packet, I grab it. He yanks down his pants and boxer briefs while I tear it open. Rolling it on quickly, I straddle him.
He guides his cock into me, and I slam down on it hard. His heat radiates through me, and I hold him deep inside me, and I say, “I think you got to me in time.” I slowly move up and down, knowing it tortures him, and me.
“Ride me, Gretchen. Fuck me hard and fast.”
I increase the speed and begin to pant. Instead of holding my hips, Derrick reaches under my dress and shoves the cups of my bra down to squeeze my breasts. He repeatedly pinches and flicks my nipples, but the sensation barely registers as my orgasm builds.
I dig my fingers into his shoulders and let it take me. When I get there I cry out, “Derrick!”
“Don’t stop, darling.” He moans and moves his hands to my hips to drive me faster. His muscles grow taught, and he trembles with his release. “Yes, oh God, yes.”
I slow and settle deep in his lap, taking in all of him. “Much better.” I sigh and lay my head against his shoulder.
“Oh, I don’t think so.” He reaches between us and strokes my tender folds. I shudder and gyrate my hips.
With his cock still in me he slides a finger in to rub my g-spot. An electric shot shoots through me, and I move against him. Mewling sounds escape as he works me toward another climax. Within minutes, I cry out again as I fall.
A satiated, quivering mess, I don’t want to move. Moisture is slick between us, and I should probably let him remove the condom.
Derrick takes my face in his hands and kisses me. I taste a hint of coffee as he nibbles and tastes me too. He breaks away and says, “No more sex without kissing. I need this part with you.”
I’m confused by his words, but he kisses me again, and this time it’s so hungry I can’t think. So I don’t, and let myself get lost in his everything.
Chapter 20
The cork comes out with a loud pop and white mist rises from the bottle. The odor of butter and garlic simmering on the stove has curled its way into my psyche, and I’m accepting the fact I’m going to indulge in calorie overload.
Derrick pours the pale amber liquid into two flutes with practiced ease. It’s Ruinart, and I’m impressed he knows good champagne. I may not be rich, but working as a bartender has given me a taste for fine wines.
He hands me a glass and says, “To finally having our dinner date.”
I stop petting Ollie’s silky head and smirk, thinking about how much of the fuck date part we’ve already covered. The velvet bubbles dance their way along my tongue, and the champagne’s full, smooth flavor ends with a crisp finish.
The thin crystal clinks on the granite when I set down the glass. “I think this has to be my favorite champagne ever. I can’t believe you’d know that, so why did you pick it?”
“Because it’s my favorite too.” Derrick takes another sip and holds it in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. “You and I have excellent taste.”
He gives the butter sauce a quick swish and says, “Nika will be glad you like it. She’s the one that started us drinking this every New Year’s Eve.”
“You spend New Year’s together?”
“It’s a family tradition. Every year we take a ski vacation in Vail Christmas week.” Derrick’s phone dings with a text. He says, “Excuse me, I haven’t talked to Nika today, and want to check that.”
“Of course. Tell her I’m here, I think that’ll make her happy.”
He snorts, “It will. She…” He frowns reading the text and then says, “Shit.”
“What?”
Derrick shakes his head and moves the sauté pan off the burner. “You’re about to meet Paul. He’s a college buddy, and Nika hates him.”
My stomach sinks as I hear him tap out a reply. So much for a romantic dinner. “Why does she hate him?”
“He’s a chauvinist ass.” He purses his lips and stares at me, his gaze slowly moving down my body.
“Spit it out.” And then it dawns on me. “It’s the dress, right?”
“Yeah, I don’t want to tell you what to do because I know how much you hate it, but would you mind changing?”
“Not at all, but I only have work clothes.”
“Go find something in Nika’s closet. She won’t care, and there’s a lot to choose from.”
I slide off my chair and the two black dogs jump up as if we’re going somewhere fun. We all click up the stairs the stairs as Cleo lazily watches from her curled-up position on a couch.
I’m not a huge clothes person, but the idea of finding something to wear in a sea of designer labels appeals to me. A floral odor lingers in Nika’s room, and it’s pleasant. I head toward her dresser first, thinking jeans are probably a good choice. I guess they’ll be too long but should fit everywhere else.
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