Page 50 of Mommy

He said he needs me to eat. He didn’t say that I needed to eat or even that he wanted me to, no. Derek said that he needed me to eat.

“But…why?” The question is on my tongue and slips past my lips before I can think about it twice.

Allowing a small smile onto his lips, Derek leans closer to open the car door for me, and offers me a hand to get in. I take it despite the small whisper in the back of my head that tells me not to get used to it.

Once I’m seated and buckled in, Derek relaxes a little. The tension leaves his shoulders, and when he brings his face on level with mine there’s a real smile on his lips.

It should be illegal to be this handsome because honestly, it’s impossible to stay mad at him for getting what he wants now that he’s so damn happy about it.

“Remember how you went to the gym with me?” he asks, his eyes following the movement of his fingers as he straightens my jacket under the seatbelt.

“Yeah.”

It’s only been a few days, but my muscles still ache at the memory of what he made me do.

“You’re sore.” It isn’t even a question. His thumb brushes over my shoulder, sending goosebumps across my chest. “Your body needs protein to fix the damage we’ve done. I feel responsible for giving your body what it needs, so would you please get some proper food, Ivory?”

I’m not sure what about that last sentence has me nodding absently. Maybe it’s the way he keeps using my full name.

His lips brush over mine once, and I can feel him pull back slowly.

Not yet.

My face follows him without me thinking about it. I can taste his grin on my lips, his teeth grazing my tongue when I go to lick away the promise of intimacy.

“Later.”

Derek’s voice is a growl against my skin, rough and raw.

Just like him.

If you look at him from afar you wouldn’t expect his soul to be as it is. You’d think that he’s like a stone in a river, edges softened by many waves, but he is not. Derek is not smooth, and he has edges that are sharp as knives. I’ve only glimpsed them a few times, and they’ve not yet sliced into the fabric of my heart, but I don’t doubt that the shards would cut deep. Derek has just gotten really good at hiding them from the world.

I’m already halfway down the driveway when I realize that I did in fact take his car. I refused to and somehow I ended up so distracted with what he said about food and eating, and going home that I completely forgot about the main issue here.

Hitting the breaks, I come to an abrupt stop.

Staring out the windshield, I try to think of a way to get out of this again when a dark shadow speeds past me, close enough to the car that I yelp.

The exhaust of the motorcycle howls, the front wheel leaving the asphalt when Derek gives speed. He is out of sight before I even had time to close my open mouth.

Leaving me in his driveway alone.

Shit.

Gnashing my teeth, I release the break and the car rolls down the rest of the driveway. No matter how much I wanted to resist him, I can’t leave the keys to his car at his front door and I don’t feel comfortable pushing them through the slim letter slot.

It’s a nice car. Nothing too expensive, so I’m not terrified to break it when I touch it wrong, but in good condition.

The interior is a little dusty, but I can still guess that it’ll be shiny once it’s polished again.

A small smile tips up my lips, as an idea takes root in my head.

Derek might be lending me this car without wanting me to pay for it, but there are things I can do for him to earn it.

And the first thing I’ll be doing after my shift at the shelter is making sure this car is as clean as it can possibly get.

Right after I buy myself something appropriate to eat of course.