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I frown, stretching both arms away from my body.
I don’t feel like I slept much.
Could it be lunchtime already?
It must be Thomas with my soup.
At least, I hope it is because if it's not Thomas, that leaves just another person. My mom. And I'msonot ready for her inquisition right now.
I check the time on my phone and see that It's not even ten a.m.
I huff to myself.
So, Mom, it is then.
I pull on a robe over my PJs, and I trudge heavily down the hall.
I open the door, and I feel my eyes grow wide.
It’s definitelynotmy mother that’s standing in front of me.
No, what I see is a giant, grumpy-looking, sexy, and totally disheveled, glaring man in sweats and a long-sleeved black T-shirt that looks like it’s almost painted to his sculpted, massive chest.
“What did I tell you, baby? No running away. And what do you do? Sneak out on me without a word. Again,” he tuts, his voice husky.
“How the hell did you find me?” I ask shakily.
Derek smirks at me. “Really? How the hell did I find you? Not,hello Derek, good morning, nice to see you...”
I roll my eyes at him. “Hello Derek, good morning, nice to see you.” ?” I repeat tonelessly, my heartbeat picking up speed at the very sight of him. “How the hell did you find me?”
He chuckles and lets himself in, closing and locking the door before starting to stalk after me as I retreat to stand in the middle of the hall.
“How about a kiss first?” he murmurs on my lips, his arms already encircling my waist and pushing my body firmly against his hard one.
I stand on my tiptoes and brush my lips with his in the softest kiss, and then I pull away and start to walk into the living room.
"What do you want, Derek?" I ask, my voice sounding cold and detached even to my ears.
He takes my hand in his and interlaces our fingers together.
I feel a frisson run through me, but I ignore it to focus again on his steely gray eyes.
“Uh… pretty much the same thing I wanted yesterday, baby.”
I nod. “So you want to fuck? Don’t you ever need recovery time?”
He laughs. "Not with you, it seems, but no. I don't wantto fuck, Carina. I wantto talk. I wanted to talk when I took you to my place, and you wanted to fuck, and then I wanted to talkafterwe fucked, and you again found a way to shut down my brain pretty quickly, and then I wanted to talk this morning, but you are bent on thwarting my plans over and over it seems 'cause you up and left."
I shrug. "Isn't this how ano-strings-attachedrelationship works, Derek? We meet, we fuck, one of us leaves. Lather, rinse, repeat. End of the story?”
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his straight, patrician nose as if to stop an oncoming migraine.
"It might very well be, sweetheart. I wouldn't know, though. I'm not a player, and I don't like games."
“Yeah, right,” I murmur more to myself than to him. He isnota player, sure.
“Look, whatever. I agreed to your terms yesterday, but you also agreed to mine, or have you forgotten already?”
