Protecting What's His (Line of Duty #1)(9)

“Listen, I’m sorry about the other day. You caught me on a bad morning.”

Ginger cocked her hip and turned to face him fully, the wind plastering her tissue-thin dress against her curves. Light pink silk molded to her breasts like a second skin. He could even make out a distinct outline of the lacy bra she wore underneath and absently wondered how easily the material would rip in his hands.

“You mean, you don’t make a habit of antagonizing your neighbors? If you tell me you’re actually a member of the welcoming committee, I won’t believe you.”

He chuckled. “No, I don’t normally antagonize my neighbors. In fact, I barely speak to them at all.”

“Oh, so we just got lucky, then.”

“You have a funny way of accepting an apology.” He watched Ginger sip her wine. “I was on my way to a funeral. Colleague of mine. So, yeah. Bad morning.”

All traces of humor drained from her expression, the base of her wineglass clinking down on the concrete wall surrounding the roof. “I’m so sorry.”

Derek shrugged, surprised by the sincerity on her face. “Don’t be. I just wanted to explain.” Wanting to move past the seriousness of the moment, he added, “What about you? I seem to remember someone calling me a dickhead and telling me exactly where to go.”

Flipping her hair back over her shoulder, she smiled up at him. His breath got trapped in his lungs. Damn, this girl knew exactly what she was doing.

“Now, Lieutenant. It’s not very gentlemanly to remind a lady of her past transgressions.”

“I’m having a very difficult time remembering to be a gentleman around you.”

Her smile wavered a little bit. Was it his imagination or did he have as much effect on her as she did on him? Impossible, he decided. While there might be some attraction on her end, nothing could compare to the single-minded lust he was experiencing. It was quite literally all he could do not to throw her over his shoulder and carry her to bed right then and there.

Easy, boy. If he allowed even a hint of what he was thinking to show on his face, he’d scare her away. He needed to keep it together.

“Well, if you’re not a gentleman, maybe I shouldn’t be up here alone with you on a dark, deserted roof.”

Despite her words, Derek detected a hint of breathlessness in her voice and felt the answering tug low in his belly. If she’d given any indication that he intimidated her, he would’ve pulled back, but that didn’t appear to be the case. No, she seemed…interested.

His hooded eyes dropped to her sassy breasts and watched her nipples stiffen against the thin fabric before dragging his gaze back up to hers. Definitely interested. The part of him that usually alarmed women started to rear its head. He gave her one final out.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be up here with me, Ginger.”

Her breathing kicked up a notch. Excitement moved through him as he waited to see what she’d do. Draining her wineglass in one long swallow, she met his eyes. “Maybe I like it up here.”

Closing the distance between them, Derek tipped her chin up in his hand so he could look down into her considerably wound-up expression. He would be taking a risk, but decided to lay all his cards on the table anyway. What he had to say might shock and disgust her. But if it didn’t, if she found his words gratifying, the reward would be sweet. God, what he wouldn’t give to voice his needs for once without judgment or falsely coy reactions. Ginger’s approval seemed especially vital.

“I warned you that I’m having a difficult time being a gentleman. Should I assume you’re provoking me on purpose?”

She wet her lips. “Is that what I’m doing?”

The need to kiss her inundated him, but he wouldn’t give in to it until she asked. Derek rubbed the pad of his thumb across her plump bottom lip, pleased when she inhaled sharply but didn’t pull away. “Let me be clear, Ginger, since you insist on talking in circles. I want you underneath me in my bed. I want to be buried inside you so deep that I have to remind you of your own name. And I want those motherf*ckers leering at you from the other side of the bar to smell me on you for a week afterward.”

Her eyes widened with each declaration. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“I just wanted to be up-front. Good night, Ginger.”

Forcing himself to remove his hand and step back lest he push her too far too soon, Derek turned and descended the stairs to suffer alone in his apartment.





Chapter Six


Ginger set two bottles of light beer on the bar, smiling playfully up at the stocky grad student in a backward Bulls hat. Without taking her eyes off him, she swayed to the cash register and made change for his twenty-dollar bill. “You kiss your mother with that mouth, sugar?”

“No, but I’d love to kiss you with it.”

Not a chance in hell, but if you leave me a nice tip, I’ll let you think it’s a possibility.

Ginger set his change on the bar and laughed. “Now, there’s an offer I might consider.”

His slightly drunker friend nudged him with an elbow and raised his eyebrows, clearly approving of Backward Hat’s boldness. Ginger cringed. Not that they didn’t appear to be fine, upstanding young men, but tomorrow they’d wake up with hangovers and either be embarrassed or have forgotten this whole exchange. Or maybe they’d take their girlfriends shopping at the mall, winking at each other when tonight came up in conversation.