Page 50 of Bad Teammate
I was furious he wasn’t the guy I’d hoped him to be—the guy that Emma and Austen promised me he really was,“deep down, once you get to know him.”
That was all bullshit, and I was angry at myself for believing it. Was he the type of man I’d saved my virginity for? No. Not even close.
I grabbed a set of sheets and stormed out of his bedroom, determined to sleep on the couch. There wasn’t any point in trying to fall asleep in his room, when I knew he’d probably be coming home later to screw one of thoseblyatsin his bed.
I started making the couch into a bed, but I got the fright of my life when I heard his voice just behind me.
“Katerina, what are you doing?”
My head nearly hit the ceiling.
I turned around and eyed him. With a tea towel neatly strung over his shoulder, he looked like a hot dad. A hot, jacked dad, with biceps and pecs bulging beneath his muscle tee.
You’re supposed to be at the club …?
I wasn’t sure how to explain myself. Part of me was still mad at him, though now I wasn’t sure if my anger was justified. But I’d made my stand the moment I’d decided to sleep on the couch—and now I had to stick to my guns, or I’d look evenmorecrazy.
Derek stared and watched as I made the bed, asking questions and trying to talk me out of it.I wanted him to know I was mad. I wanted him to feel my disappointment. I wanted him to know why—because I knew he slept around a lot, and I was mad that he’d treated me as if I was one of his playthings, too.
And yet, it only made memoremad and upset that he didn’t take me seriously. Sure, maybe I was acting a little crazy—but he picked me right up off the couch and basically told me he didn’t care what I thought!
So why, then, did I still find him so sexy? So irresistible? Maybe it was preciselybecausehe slept around like a dog. And I was tired of being inexperienced. Maybe I’d given up hope of him being a decent guy … but he was still hot … couldn’t we still have some mindless fun?
I didn’t know. But the second I accidentally tore off his t-shirt, I knew I was in trouble. Amid a sexy thicket of graying chest hair, his chiseled pecs jutted outward like a mountain of muscle. His arms were thick and knotted; one was covered in sexy tattoos, the other rippled with a network of veins.
Good God, he was such aman.
I wanted to jump in his lap, get my hands all over his muscles, run my fingers through his chest hair.I wanted to kiss him again.But I couldn’t be the one to initiate it—I’d burned enough dignity for one night. And I’d already learned my lesson about trying to pursue him.
I climbed on top of him and took my anger out on him—mad about the way he’d treated me, mad that he wouldn’t take me seriously, mad that he didn’twantme—and slapped and kicked at him until a fire burned in his eyes. He’d finally had enough. He tossed me into the couch as if I were a rag doll and pinned me down beneath his massive body. I liked being so pleasantly crushed under his weight; my breath grew shallow as my chest and lungs tightened. I struggled against him, but the truth was, I loved feeling like his captive. Flares of primal desire exploded in my heart. Secretly, I wished he would hold me down and take my virginity, right then and there on the living room couch. The thought alone made a liquid heat pool between my thighs.
I put up just enough of a fight for it to be believable. In the end, though, he knew what I wanted. He could see it in my eyes.
Finally, our mouths met again.
Yes.
That kiss. I’d been thinking about it.
All. Day. Long.
The way his mouth moved against mine made my entire body come to life—insides twisting, throat tightening, heart fluttering. Every nerve in my body tingled with bliss. I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted him to go further, deeper. I moaned loudly, encouraging him to take more, more, more.
His rough, massive hands slid teasingly over my flesh until my pussy began to swell and throb.God,his experience showed—I needed to feel his big, talented hands between my legs.
“Play with me,” I whispered, gently snagging the lobe of his ear between my front teeth. “Please?”
My request made him grunt with desire, like some crazed animal. His muscled forearm tunneled under my shorts, stretching my waistband.
“You’re soaking wet, Katerina,” he growled as his thick fingers spread my lips apart. The gritty rasp of his voice made goosebumps pop all over my flesh.
Derek toyed with my soaking mound, stoking the heat in my belly until it grew into a blazing fire. Guilty and conflicted thoughts sprang from the dark recesses of my mind—
Did I really wait this long, just to throw it all away on someone who doesn’t even treat me right?
What about Sasha? Won’t this make me an awful sister?
What if we get caught?
