Page 38 of Derek
Three minutes is all she lasts before she starts talking again. “Where are we going?”
“My house,” I mutter, gripping the steering wheel. I can’t scream at her. That is not the way to handle this, but fucking hell, what was she thinking?
“I can’t stay there.” She huffs, and I snort.
“Not up to your obviously high standards? I’m sure I can whip up some bed bugs and shit stains to make it more accommodating.”
“I can’t stay because of you. You jerk.” She mutters the last part. I sigh as I pull into the driveway.
“Indy, I’m sorry for what I said. Really, I am.” She stares at me and shakes her head.
“I don’t need your apology. I forgave you the moment it happened.”
“Well, that makes one of us,” I grumble and get out of the driver’s seat and walk around to help her. I unlock the front door, letting her into the house.
“I don’t want to be here.” She says, and I ignore the sting in my chest those words cause.
“Indy I’m so–”
“Stop apologizing!” She snaps, and her tone takes me aback. “I don’t need your sorry! What I need is for you to leave me alone! I was trying to be nice, and you… you hurt my feelings, Derek! Really bad. And while I understand and forgive you, it still hurts. And I’m so angry that it hurts because no one is supposed to be able to hurt me, not like this.” My brows soften as I look at her.
“Indy, listen, the truth is, I’m not sorry for what I said, how I said it, absolutely. I don’t want to hurt you, ever. It fucking guts me when I do.”
“Why?” Her voice is so small, but the question is so loud. She looks up at me, her eyes glassy and lost… I lose it. I close the distance and capture her lips with mine. I hear her squeak in shock, and I about pull back when she wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer. This is wrong, so fucking wrong. But I can’t stop. I growl out a breath as I feel her lick my bottom lip, and it causes my cock to twitch. I grab a fistful of her raven locks and tug gently, pulling her head to the side as I open my mouth, allowing her to slip her tongue in and explore. My knees nearly give out at the feel of her sweet tongue against mine.
“Indy!” I gasp, breaking the kiss when I feel her hand on my belt buckle. I look at her wild, lust-filled eyes and swollen lips. God, I want her so bad, it’s killing me.
“What?” She pants, unbuckling the belt. She goes to run her hand over the front of my jeans, and I grip her wrist, stopping her. If she does that, I will lose all resolve.
“We can’t,” I think I say firmly. I’m not sure, though. It may’ve come out as a whimper at this point. Jerking her hand away from me, Indy fucking jumps on me. I grip her under her ass, and before I can speak, she’s kissing me again, and fucking hell, she tastes too good. I bounce her up to get a better grip, and she lets out a moan that is absolutely sinful. Breaking the kiss, she leans back, and I watch as she begins to lift her shirt. Fuck.
“N-No. Indy, stop.” I state as I set her back on her feet. I watch as the rejection flashes over her face.
“Wait,” I say slowly as she shakes her head.
“It’s fine. Not your type, I get it.” She states. Those fucking words are going to haunt me for the rest of my fucking life.
“Indyyy…” I groan out. “Come on, you can obviously see I was lying when I said that.” I gesture to the erection trying to bust through my jeans. I can’t help the inward smirk when I see her do a double take.
“Well, obviously something is wrong with me.” She scoffs, and I can see the embarrassment and rejection all over her face.
“Oh, baby girl,” I grab her hand and pull her to me. “There isn’t a goddamn thing wrong with you. Never think otherwise.” She huffs and looks away.
“It’s not you, it’s me.” She says in what I’m assuming is a mock me voice. I want to laugh, but the look of rejection on her face is destroying me.
“It is me, Indy. If I wasn’t fucked up in the head, do you think I would say no to you? Really?”
“Yeah, I do!” She snaps, and I watch as a tear falls down her cheek. “Because they all do. Everyone rejects me. I have MS, but you would think I tell them I have the goddamn plague. I’ve already accepted I’ll never have a boyfriend or husband because I won’t put my shit on others, despite what you said earlier. But now, I can’t even get a casual fuck or make-out session. Perfect, I will just grow old and die with a shriveled-up vagina and exactly one really shitty sexual encounter.”
I stare at her, annoyance coursing through me. “Do not,” I state through gritted teeth. “Put me in the same category as those bitches. Your MS doesn’t have a goddamn thing to do with this. My god, are you telling me you would actually fuck me if you thought that I felt that way?”
“What does it matter?” she shrugs. “I just wanted to feel wanted, alright. Are you happy? I am always ‘Indy the fragile doll’ ‘Indy the happy ditz with rainbows shooting out her ass.’ Nobody sees me and thinks, ‘Wow, now there’s a hot woman.’” She shakes her head. “Just forget it. I don’t want to talk anymore.” She turns to walk away.
“Indy, you can’t just–”
“I don’t want to talk!” she shouts, glaring back at me. “You don’t want me? Fine. Then don’t. Stop fucking talking to me!” She spins on her heel and storms to her room, slamming the door shut in the process. I jump when my phone starts ringing. Normally, I would ignore it. But the ringtone tells me I need to pick it up.
I put the phone to my ear. “Hey mama,” I say while staring down the hallway.
