Chapter 11: One Night

Bethany's POV

His house was a gray-shingled cottage on a lane above the harbor, with a single lamp burning in the window.

He unlocked the door and stood back to let me in.

I walked into the small front room, and it smelled of cedar and coffee and him.

"Terms," Derrick said behind me. "You said terms."

I turned around with my back to the wall.

"No mother," I said. "Not one word about her tonight."

"Agreed."

"No Dean. No Heidi. No file."

"Agreed."

"And no talking about tomorrow."

He looked at me for a long moment.

"That's three," he said. "Is there a fourth?"

"Yes." My voice was not quite steady. "Don't be careful with me."

His eyes went dark.

He crossed the room in three steps and put both hands on my face.

"Then say it again when I'm not careful," he said, and kissed me.

It was nothing like the kiss in the rain.

That one had been desperate.

This one was slow, and it took its time, and it made my knees give.

He turned his head and kissed along my jaw, and his thumbs held my chin so I could not look away from him.

"Tell me what you want," he said against my mouth.

"You."

"Be more specific."

"Your hands," I said. "Now."

He laughed under his breath, and then his hands were under my wet coat, pushing it off my shoulders, and it dropped to the floor.

He took my sweater by the hem and drew it up over my head.

The cold air hit my skin, and then his mouth was on my collarbone, my throat, the swell of my breast above the lace.

I held onto his shoulders.

I had not been touched like this in years.

Dean had touched me quickly, with his mind somewhere else.

Derrick touched me slowly and kept his eyes on my face.

He found the clasp of my bra and undid it with one hand.

I let it fall.

He made a rough sound and bent his head and took my nipple in his mouth.

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