Page 17 of Inked Nights

“My wife has been trying to get Olivia to join the Montgomery girls’ club for over a year now, and I’m pretty sure she’s not going to take no for an answer again. And once Olivia is part of the core group? Well then, you’ve got the whole lot of them on your tail. And Sierra can take a man down if she has to. Believe me.”

Derek let out a sigh, nodding. “Understood. I don’t want to hurt Olivia.”

“Then make sure you know exactly what you want when you see her again. Because she deserves that. Got me?”

“I get you,” he mumbled, then shouldered past so he could focus on his job and not his love life. Love life? Hell, did he love her? No, he didn’t think he could, not when he didn’t know enough about her to form that kind of opinion. But he liked her. A lot. And not just because of how they were together in bed. He wanted to know more about her, more about what they could be.

And maybe that was an answer in itself.

He didn’t want to be the one fleeing, and that meant he sure as hell hoped she didn’t want to run away either.

By the time he got home, he was still on edge, but at least he didn’t need to head down to the basement for his punching bag. He’d gotten a lot of stress out of his system by just doing his job and making sure the final product on Jason’s skin was flawless. That had been their third session on the full right shoulder and sleeve, and while they might have to meet up in another month to make sure they had every angle perfect once the swelling went down, he and Jason were both happy with the results.

Of course, thinking about meeting up with Jason after a month only made him think about seeing Olivia tomorrow, and the next month, and the one after that. Only Derek didn’t think he’d be able to wait a month between visits anymore. He wanted to know her, wanted her in his life, and that meant he needed to see her for more than a few hours when the moon was high in the sky.

It would be a big change going from what they had to what he wanted, but that was what happened in relationships. Things progressed. Theirs hadn’t for so long because they’d made sure they had their rules. But what if their so-called rules had been shit to begin with? It seemed to him that they’d only implemented them to keep each other at a distance, and not just for the fun they thought they had.

He knew why he kept her at a distance, and it had to do with protecting himself. But why did she keep him at arm’s length? And what did she need to tell him? She’d been so damn cryptic and seemingly worried, and because he was an asshole and had kissed her instead of listening, he hadn’t been able to hear what she had to say. It was his fault, he knew, but he would hear her out, would listen like he should have—tomorrow night.

Derek let out a groan just thinking about her, and all that excess energy came rushing back in a hard wave. But instead of anger, it went straight to his cock, and he knew if he didn’t get some release, he’d feel as if he were going to burst.

Since he was alone and didn’t have any other plans except to sit and wallow over Olivia, he lifted his ass off the couch, undid his jeans to slide them down a bit, and fisted the base of his cock.

He shifted slightly so he could get a better hold, then slowly slid his hand up and down his length. Since he didn’t have any lotion or lube near, he spit into his hand to help him glide easier, then rested his head back on the couch, slowly and methodically running his hand over his dick. He let himself imagine Olivia doing the same to him, her eyes on him, wide and dark as she took him in hand, being gentle at first before squeezing hard and fondling his balls. At that thought, he picked up the pace, imagining himself fucking her tits, then leaning back as she licked and sucked down his cock. She was so damn good with her hands and her tongue. Usually, he was the one who took control in bed, even when she went down on him, but sometimes, she was the one with all the control, and if he was honest with himself, even with him leading her, she was always the one with the power.

And he damn well liked that.

With that thought and the idea of him sinking into her wet heat in mind, he came into his hand with a wet rush and did his best to come on his shirt rather than around his living room like a heathen. Thankfully, he had decent aim, even when he was losing himself in thoughts of Olivia.

As reality began to sink in, he rolled up his shirt a bit and then stripped it off from behind, doing his best not to spread his mess around. He was alone in his house, masturbating on his couch to the thoughts of a woman he wanted in his life while he was pretty sure she wanted to run again.

He’d officially hit another version of his rock bottom.

By the time he’d put his shirt in the washer along with his jeans and the rest of his clothes from the hamper and washed up, he was annoyed with himself. He put on some gym shorts, not bothering with underwear since he wasn’t planning to go anywhere, and walked into the kitchen for a beer. That’s when the phone in his pocket buzzed that familiar tone once again, and he gritted his teeth, knowing this call wouldn’t be good. None of them had been recently, but there was nothing he could do about it except listen and try to be a good son.

His mom had always loved Stacey more than she did him. It was a fact he’d never gotten out of his head, but he’d learned to live with it long ago.

“Mom.”

“I hate myself.”

Jesus. He hated himself too because all he wanted to do was hang up and try to get her to go and get help again. Only she wouldn’t, and he was all she had left, so he’d never do that to her, even if it took a little sliver of his soul with each passing day and every call she made.

But she was his mother, and he was going to do his best by her, even if it wasn’t enough.

Was it any wonder that he wanted to shield himself from anyone else that could get too close for too long? He already had enough on his plate as it was.

“Mom.” He tried to keep his voice patient. He was always so patient with her. He loved his mother and would continue to until the end of his days and perhaps even beyond that, but she took every ounce of his energy at times.

She deserved so much more, though, and that was something he needed to remember.

She’d been through hell and had clawed her way back out, bloody and broken, only to be kicked again when Dad left.

Derek was all she had left, and yet he felt as if he wasn’t enough. He couldn’t blame himself for it, though; she’d tried hard for too long and now she just was who she was, a shadow of her former self, with hardly a resemblance to the woman who used to cut up his and Stacey’s sandwiches into little hearts and other shapes for school then eat the leftover pieces herself since she hated wasting food.

“Derek. I’m tired.”

He leaned against the counter, giving himself a moment before he went to put on clothes and grab his keys. He always went to her when she needed him, and every time around a holiday, anniversary, or birthday, she got worse. They were a couple of months away from a trigger, but she was still having a bad day. It was obvious. He hated this for her and knew that no matter how much help he tried to get her, how much help he tried to give her, it might not ever be enough.