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And after that almost-kiss, I might as well have jumped in the water too – that’s how wet my panties are…
Uhmm, just a little, I mean. Not like a lot, or anything. I’m not falling for him or anything, okay?
I mean, think about it. He doesn’t even know that I’m really Alicia. He doesn’t know I work for a gossip column in a tabloid newspaper. That I’ve been lying to him. I wonder what will happen if he ever figures that out?
I mean, I’m not lying about everything. I told him about how a few days ago I discovered Jake had been cheating on me. He told me a bit about how he’s been on his own basically in New York since he moved here. And then finally left a few hours ago to go work out at his gym across the street. I shudder when I think of him doing deadlifts, straining his bulging muscles, and having his testosterone enlarge his monster cock.
I shake my head vigorously, trying to get these thoughts out of my head.
Just because he’s come picked me up when I was in danger doesn’t make him my hero. I need to remember that. Stop lusting. I’m supposed to be the good girl, remember? I don’t do these things. I’m not supposed to have melted panties. I’m supposed to be responsible.
And that’s when I hear Derrick come into the apartment.
Everything I had told myself goes out my brain the moment he walks to the threshold of my door. He’s got a smirk. He’s also shirtless, wearing just a pair of basketball shorts.
I try not to stare at the tattoos that grace his body. They take a warrior’s body and make it into a dangerous looking work of art. My spine tingles in unrequited lust as he hands me a package. It’s a black plastic bag.
“For you, love,” he says with a smirk.
“What is it?” I ask, taken aback.
“I think it’ll help with all the adrenaline you have going through your body,” he says. “It’ll take an edge off.”
He’s grinning and I open the bag.
“Since there's no more Jake, it's something to get you through the long nights,” he says.
I take the package and open it, and I don’t know what to say.
It’s a set of two clamps. I eye them for a bit and read the packaging. But it doesn’t dawn on me that until I see the picture.
These are nipple clamps. They show a picture that shows a woman with the clamps, and the box shows her getting an electric buzzing.
Next to it is a small vibrator bullet. And next to that is a wireless remote.
Oh. My. God.
What do I do? What do I say? I’m holding these two packages and I don’t know what to do here.
“What is all this,” I ask, deciding that confusion is easier to use to hide my embarrassment.
Derrick simply shrugs. "I figured it would help you, love."
“Help me do what?” I ask again. What is he thinking? Just because he looks so delicious and gets my mind all twisted he can give me these…these sex toys for presents?!
“It’ll give you all the pleasure you need, love,” Derrick says with a smile. “Without ever having to deal with a man again.”
Oh. My. God. Again, I’m speechless.
Who the hell does he think he is? That because I pretended to be a stripper that makes me a prostitute?!
I throw the package on the bed.
“Gross!” I yell out loud. “I barely know you!”
“Okay, Daphne, love, listen to me okay,” Derrick says and comes inside my room. Oh God, I can smell his musk. His sweat. His scent. It’s heady and it fogs my brain with desire.
Der
