Chapter Seven
Tasha
As it turned out, I really loved sex.
During my years with Wes, from the time we’d started dating until the disastrous last days of our doomed marriage, sex had been ... okay. I’d figured it was because I was young and stupid, and Wes hadn’t done anything to dispel that belief. He’d never said anything positive about what I did in bed, and later, if I’d dared to try something new in an effort to make things better, he accused me of cheating on him. I’d learned to simply bend myself to his will there as I did in the rest of my life.
Making love with Derek, then, was a revelation. He made it clear with every touch, with every word and with every sigh that I pleased him, that I brought him pleasure. He praised me with his words and he worshipped me with his body. He told me over and over how beautiful I was, how perfect my body was, and how much he loved to make me come. When I returned the favor, he couldn’t say enough, even when he was basically incoherent, babbling in the wake of his orgasm.
And between all of that, he told me how much he loved me. It went beyond the words he used; his love for me was evident in every touch.
On Saturday morning, he brought me coffee and breakfast in bed. We ate together, talking about what we usually did on weekends. When Derek learned that I loved to haunt flea markets and farm stands, he decided that was what we’d do ... after he’d settled himself between my legs to use his mouth to get me off, which he called the prerequisite for a good morning.
After we showered together, we stopped by his house so that he could pick up clean clothes and some toiletries. He tossed another pair of underwear and a clean T-shirt into a bag, which he slung over his shoulder as we returned to his car.
“I, um, thought if it was okay with you, I could stay over again tonight. I mean, unless you need some space.” He’d studied me so seriously that I just had to grab his face and kiss him.
“I don’t need space from you, Derek. Of course, I want you to stay. I’d be lost if you didn’t.”
His smile lit up the morning.
We wandered the flea markets, hand in hand. Derek stopped here and there, pointing out items he liked. We talked about our tastes in decorating, and I shared that I loved anything I could reclaim and make new.
“I like to take something that seems like it can’t be useful anymore and make it beautiful again.” I swung our hands between us. “It feels good.”
“That’s what you did with me.” He squeezed my fingers. “I didn’t think I was ever going to come back to life ... but you didn’t let me stay in that place.”
Talking about our therapist-patient relationship now, when we were so much more, gave me a twinge of unease. Although the flea market we’d chosen was actually over the border in North Carolina, I still worried that we might run into someone we knew. I tried not to let that concern show to Derek, but when I got quiet, he noticed.
“Hey, there.” He hauled me into a quiet corner between two booths, where no one could see us. “You okay, babe?”
“I am.” I lifted my face, kissing his jaw. “I’m just ... thinking. But I’m enjoying being here with you. It’s so much more fun than doing the market by myself.”
He studied me, his head cocked to the side. “Okay.” Framing my face with his hands, he kissed me, his tongue making lazy forays against my own. I wrapped my arms around his neck, desperate again for his touch. I felt like I would never get enough of him.
We barely slept Saturday night, because it seemed Derek couldn’t get enough of me, either. We made love until we fell asleep in each other’s arms, and then one of us would wake and begin touching once more, until we were so aroused that we’d start all over again.
Consequently, we didn’t wake up until after noon on Sunday. My mom’s call interrupted our sleep; she invited me for dinner, and when I declined, she sounded surprised. I told her that I’d had a busy weekend, and she must have heard something in my voice that made her leave it at that. After we hung up, I fell back onto the bed.
“You’re close to your folks, huh?” Derek’s voice was muffled in the pillow.
“I am, but it’s one of the things I’ve been working on over the last year—maintaining boundaries, and making sure we have a good relationship, but that I’m making my own decisions. My dad is great, but my mom still struggles sometimes.” I sighed, snuggling up to Derek. “But I understand. That year when I was with Wes was terrifying for them, too. Letting me have space isn’t easy for them.”
“I’d never get in the way of that.” He sounded so earnest that I just had to kiss his cheek. “I mean it, Tash. I want to be part of your life, but I want to do it the right way. When you’re ready, I want to meet your parents. I want them to get to know me and to understand that I would never hurt you or try to take you away from them.”
The idea of introducing Derek to my mom and dad gave me a flurry of butterflies in my stomach. It was what I wanted, too ... but that didn’t mean I wasn’t a little nervous about it.
After dinner that night—we’d called for pizza and eaten it on my sofa, watching the baseball game and drinking beer—Derek stood up, stretching, and hauled me to my feet.
“I better go home, babe.” He sounded so reluctant that it made me grin. “I’d love to stay, but I don’t have my uniforms here, and I have to get up way the hell early for work tomorrow.”
I brushed my hand over the scruff of beard on his cheek. “Hey, mister. You’re not cleared for physical training yet. Not for another two weeks, and even then, only modified.”
“I know, Ms. O’Hare.” He kissed my forehead. “But I go in at the same time and get caught up on work while the others are doing PT. I’m so behind on everything that I need those hours.”
“Hmmm.” I tucked my head under his chin. “You’re back full-time this week?”
“Yeah ...” He trailed off and then cleared his throat. “But I do have an appointment tomorrow afternoon at the clinic.”
