Rock All Night(36)

“Get OFF of me!” I yelled. I slammed my free hand against his chest, breaking contact, sending him spinning away at an angle with a stunned look on his face.

“What the hell?!” he asked, more surprised than angry.

I turned away from him. I didn’t want to look at him – I couldn’t. Because of the horrible images in my head… and maybe because my body was still incredibly turned on, and I was afraid of how easily I might still give in.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sounding concerned.

Anger gave me the power to look at him, just briefly. “If you want to sleep with me, maybe you shouldn’t come up here smelling like your whores.”

His jaw set, his expression darkened, and for a second I was actually a little afraid. He was far more powerful than I was – we were alone – he could do whatever he wanted to me –

And then one side of his mouth pulled up in amusement.

“I don’t f*ckin’ believe this,” he muttered.

Now I wasn’t afraid, I was just pissed.

“Believe what? That I’m not happy to be your second or third f*ck in a row tonight?”

He sighed heavily. “You know what that was down there? That was to make you jealous. That’s it. Seems it worked a little too well.”

My heart skipped a beat.

Ryan had been right.

Derek stepped closer to me and put a hand tenderly to my face. I flinched, but he kept it there, gently cupping my cheek.

“I don’t want them. I want you. You were playing so hard to get this afternoon… down in the bar, then in the locker room… I’ve always wanted YOU, Kaitlyn. Just you.”

I was breathing harder, my heart was pounding, and he moved in to kiss me –

Maybe it was the perfume, which I could still smell on the air.

Maybe it was my famous boneheaded stubbornness.

Either way, I turned my face away from him.

He paused, his lips a millimeter away from my cheek. I could feel his breath on my skin, hot and ticklish.

Then his hand fell away, and he stepped back.

“Okay, this is the way it’s going to be from now on,” he said. His voice wasn’t exactly cold, but all the passion was gone. It was more like he was being… firm. Stern.

I glanced over at him. He still looked vaguely amused, but he looked a little pissed, too.

“If you want me, you make the first move. I’m not going to make another one. If you don’t want me, then fine. I’ll be the rock star, you’ll be the journalist, and it’ll be cool. No harm, no foul. But no passive-aggressive bullshit from you about how I live my life. No snarky little comments or hateful stares just because other women are into me.

“You want me? I’m yours. But you let me know.”

And with that, he strode across the room, opened the door, and was gone before I could even answer.





22




It was a long-ass night.

A long-ass, frustrating night.

I laid awake, fitfully turning in bed for over an hour, replaying the scene over and over in my head.

Fuck this.

Him slamming me against the wall, kissing me, stroking me, tantalizing me –

The stench of a dozen other women’s perfume –

I’ve always wanted YOU, Kaitlyn. Just you.

My final refusal –

You want me? I’m yours. But YOU let me know.

It all seemed like a dream.

An incredibly hot, but incredibly disturbing dream.

Why did I have to say ‘no’? Wasn’t that exactly the thing I’d fantasized about for years – him forcefully pinning me against the wall, taking me, ravishing me?

I knew why I’d said ‘no,’ of course. The smell. The perfume. I couldn’t get past it.

Why did he have to dance with those women? Why?

Why did he have to flaunt it in my face?

Why couldn’t we have just left immediately after the concert and come here?

He could have been in my arms right now.

He could have been inside me RIGHT NOW.

I was so hot and bothered I wanted to cry.

I relived our night together in college – his fingers creeping down to my panties… slowly slipping beneath my underwear…

As I imagined it for the fifth time, I finally let my own hand drift down between my legs and pretend it was his.

Imagined it was his fingertip gently touching my clit… stroking… circling… caressing…

I remembered the feel of his body against mine… his lips kissing my ear, my neck…

And as I got higher, as I felt my orgasm build, I remembered his cock… I remembered holding it hot and long and thick in my hand, stroking it… using his own pre-come to make him wet and slick… my fingers slipping over the head, circling the shaft. I remembered the passion in our kisses, the look on his face, the ecstasy and the surprise as he cried out and his cock suddenly exploded beneath my fingers, the hot wet spurting over my hand as he called out my name –


And I came.

I cried out, a tiny little whimper, as the contractions raced through me. When it was finished, I rolled over on my side. The pain was still there in my heart, but the tension was lessened. For a few brief seconds I had forgotten how much I hurt.

It still took me another hour to get to sleep.