Page 22 of Good Girl

A chance that how I felt in that half hour could be amplified enough that I could start believing Iwasenough.

And it was growing more enticing by the second.

10

CHARLOTTE

Istood in front of Derek Hansen’s front door, hand poised yet painfully unable to knock on the wood. I’d talked myself out of coming here two or three times over the past day, but the desire to see Derek again always won out. Now, standing here in front of his rather unassuming brown front door, the simplicity of it didn’t match the adventurous memory in my mind.

The memory of being pleasured by Derek was intense, almost too intense, and just lingering on howacceptedhe made me feel brought a pulse of need right through my core unlike anything I’d experienced before. How that man had such a pull on me so quickly was unexplainable, and yet, it also still felt like a dream.

Like I’d tricked myself so well that turning up here was about to make me look like some creepy stalker.

I studied the four-paneled door for a few minutes longer, then my hand fell to my side.

Fuck. Who was I fooling?

Just as I started to turn and leave, a lock clicked on the other side of the door and it swung open to reveal Derek. My heart skipped a beat.

He leaned casually against the door, one arm up against the wood and the other lightly tipping a half-full glass of red wine back and forth. He wore light jeans and a white shirt that was buttoned only up to his navel, giving me a generous glimpse of the well-defined muscle peeking out from between the gaps in the fabric. Just that peek brought further warmth to my core, and my mouth ran dry, utterly smitten by the tall, dark, attractive line he cut in front of me.

“Charlotte,” Derek said, his voice just as calm and yet just as powerful as it was in class. “As much as I would adore you to be a decoration, wouldn’t you prefer to be on this side of the door?”

My lips parted repeatedly like a goldfish, and I curled both fists into the back drape of my skirt.

“How did you...?”

Derek used the wine glass to indicate a small black box on top of the door frame.

“Motion camera. Alerts my phone when someone is at the door.”

Oh. Duh.

“Care to come in?”

Despite the anxious bubble of caution that had swelled in my chest ever since I’d arrived at this building, I couldn’t say no. My legs obeyed before my mind could process, and I stepped forward. Derek leaned away from the door, giving me space to pass, and closed it behind me as I slowly walked into his apartment.

I had no expectations of style, yet I was still wowed by what I saw. The short hallway opened out into a cozy, open-plan lounging area. There were two sofas set at an off angle, a table in the middle filled with a vase of flowers and several magazines, and the curtains at the far wall were thick and blue, pulled tight against the creeping darkness outside.

“Drink?” Derek brushed past me, and the heat of his presence lit a flush of tingling anticipation up and down my arms. I clutched at my bag strap for security and nodded.

“Wine?”

“Please.”

He headed to the left where the open-plan lounge was attached to an equally open kitchen. With black marble countertops and white cabinets lining the walls, the kitchen looked just as sharply designed as Derek himself. He headed for the far counter and grabbed the open bottle of wine already sitting there. I lingered in the doorway, unsure of where to stand or what to say, but my silence didn’t appear to bother Derek.

He poured me a large glass of wine and approached. I accepted it, and as our fingers brushed together, my heart skipped another painful beat. I tipped my head up to look him in those dark eyes, and the second we made eye contact and I saw the slight, pleasant smile on his thin lips, a warm smile broke across my own.

“You’re nervous,” Derek said, picking up his own discarded glass.

“A little.”

“And yet you look much more comfortable than in class.”

So, it wasn’t a dream. A flash of heat wove through me from head to toe and warmed my cheeks. Derek’s slight smile widened as he placed one hand on my left shoulder.

“Come, sit.”

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