Chapter Four-
Whatever had come over Derek when he decided to ride to my rescue, he apparently got over it by the next day.
I said hi to him in the hallway and he walked right past me as if I didn't exist. In class later, he didn't exactly speak to me, other than to lean down and inform me, "You've been skipping your payments for long enough, Harmon."
I glanced up at him curiously.
"Tonight," he stated, before walking back to his desk.
I watched him, allowing myself a shallow moment to admire the muscles in his back as he merely took his seat, thinking with surprisingly little remorse that I was a terrible girlfriend.
Since the night at the party with Derek, I had barely spent any time at all with Andy. Sitting there in class, I thought about the fact that Derek wanted me to come have meaningless sex with him that night, and I was pretty much okay with it. I mean, I wasn't jumping for joy or anything, but from what I remembered, I knew he would probably have me eager within a few minutes.
There was something about his hair, I decided. That night at the party, it was as soon as I let his hair down that I knew I was pretty much a goner. It was just so sexy when it was down, and since he was pretty sexy in general, the whole picture was pretty appealing.
And sure, technically there was the issue of Kayla, but he obviously didn't care about her, I didn't really care for her, and she couldn't be desperately in love with him anyway. If she did find out, it would give her a reason to eat a half gallon of ice cream guilt-free, and move on to the next guy.
And besides, I wasn't even doing it because I wanted to. I was totally being blackmailed. If I happened to enjoy myself while I was at it, that was hardly my fault.
I was about to walk home from school, after politely declining Andy's offer to give me a ride home, when Derek pulled up beside me and slowed down.
"Want a ride?"
I glanced around, surprised that he would stop where people could see. "Right now?" I asked.
He smirked. "Not that kind of ride, Nikki, although if you really want to..."
I rolled my eyes and opened his door, sliding into the passenger seat. "I really shouldn't be riding with you," I said as I shut the door.
"Why not? Afraid I'll drive you off a cliff or something?"
"Maybe," I said with a nod, not really meaning it, as I felt like we had established some sort of peace.
He turned out of the school parking lot and casually remarked, "I noticed your boyfriend was riding home alone, how come he didn't offer you a ride?"
"Why are you paying attention?" I replied, not actually answering.
He shrugged, raising an eyebrow. "I wasn't, really. Just happened to see him; he was parked a couple cars down."
"Just because he's my boyfriend doesn't mean I'm going to be glued to his hip," I stated.
"Fine, don't get all defensive, I was just asking. Jeeze," he said.
"How come Kayla didn't jump on the back of your car as you were pulling out?" I returned casually.
He smirked. "She might break a nail."
I glanced down at my own nails, thinking of better uses for them—like dragging them down Derek's back.
Bad girl, I chastised myself.
"So... are we going to meet up again tonight?" I asked him.
"Yeah," he said. "I get off work at eight, so I'll come get you by nine."
"You have a job?" I asked, realizing I didn't know that.
"Of course," he said.
"Do you work at Burger King?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Not hardly. I get enough of my father at home; I don't want him to be my boss, too."
I shook my head, smiling a little. "I probably wouldn't either."
A brief silence fell, and while it was a comfortable silence, I felt like talking. "So, did you start that Egyptian project yet?" I asked him.
"No, I'm still procrastinating. Have you?"
I nodded my head. "Oh yeah. I have a couple really good books on it if you wanted to check them out. My mom pretty much had an entire library, and the public library was pretty picked through by the time I got there, so... you might be interested."
"You like to read?" he asked.
"Oh yes," I enthused. "More than I like to breathe."
Derek shook his head, smiling slightly. "That's crazy."
A small smile tugged at my lips. "I take it you share your father's view of books?"
"They're better off as movies? Hell yeah."
I couldn't imagine such a thought, but I kept that to myself. "Well, be that as it may, you're not going to be able to find a movie, so you can't cheat on this one. Besides, even if you could, everybody would be using that pharaoh. As many as there were, don't you think Mrs. Sawyer would find it funny if the whole class mysteriously picked the same one?"
"Probably, but there are too many, and too many with the same name, just different numbers at the end."
I smiled. "Yeah, like the Amenhoteps and the Thutmoses."
"Definitely," he agreed. "Which one are you doing your assignment on?"
This caused me to sigh. "Well, this was a hard decision. I was going to do my assignment on Amenhotep III, but then I decided to do it on Hatshepsut. How can I not? She's the only female leader to be buried in the Valley of the Kings."
"The what? Wow, you really do pay attention in class."
I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. "Why are you even in school?"
"You're a closet dork and a closet freak?"
I chuckled. "I guess so. It's the quiet ones you have to watch out for, Derek," I teased.
I didn't realize it, but we were already pulling onto my road. Oddly, I wasn't quite ready to go home, but I decided that was obviously because I enjoyed having someone to discuss my pharaoh assignment with, and my two friends didn't care. Steph knew less about Egypt than Derek did, and Andy would just sit there and visibly start thinking of something else when I would start talking about school assignments. Derek may be mocking me, but at least he was paying attention.
"Well, hey," I said as he pulled into my driveway. "If you want any pointers on that pharaoh assignment, I could definitely help you. I had been planning to do my assignment on Amenhotep III, and I just kind of changed my mind last minute, so I have quite a bit of information already pulled up about him. If you want my notes or anything, just let me know, I can make you a copy."
He nodded. "If you want to."
"I will," I said, nodding. "I think once you see it, maybe you'll share my excitement."
Derek chuckled a little, giving me a strange look.
"What?" I asked, smiling a little self-consciously.
He shook his head. "Nothing. Copy your notes, you can give them to me later."
"I will. You'll be able to write an interesting paper on him. Easily the four pages required."
"Okay," he said, nodding, still with the little smile on his face.
"Okay, I'm going now," I said, realizing I had been sitting in his car in my driveway, still rattling on about ancient Egyptians, which he probably couldn't care less about.
"I'll see you later," he said, offering a small wave as I shut the door and walked into my trailer, heading for my room to dig out my notes.
Once or twice, as I spent an hour going over notes and adding more, I stopped and asked myself why I was exerting so much effort to help Derek. Then I remembered how he had helped me out with the tire situation.
It wasn’t like it was costing me anything to help him with his research paper. I had more than four double spaced pages of notes already typed up, so he shouldn't have to do anything but come up with a title for the paper and add his name to it.
As it got closer to 9, I did dab on a little bit of lipstick and change my shirt, but my conscience was pricked when, in the midst of changing, Andy called.
I ignored the call, and I no more than pushed ignore and I heard a car pull in the driveway. I went over to my window and peeked out, spotting Derek's car, so I slipped my phone into my purse, grabbed my organized folder of Amenhotep III notes, and I was on my way out the door.
However, when I got to the door, he was already standing there.
I gasped, whacking him on the arm with my folder. "You scared me."
"Sorry," he said insincerely. Without missing a beat, he continued, "I don't see your dad's car. Is he home?"
"Oh, no. He's out."
"Know when he'll be home?" he asked.
I shrugged. "No idea. He just pops in whenever he feels like it. Since he didn't bring home his girlfriend or one of his bimbos, he might even be staying at someone's house.” I went to pull the door shut, but Derek held it open.
"Why don't we stay here?" he suggested.
"Oh... no," I said, shaking my head.
"Why?" he asked.
"Well... I didn't—that is, I'm not ready for company. I didn't straighten up the house or my room or anything. I think it would just be better if we left."
He rolled his eyes, and walked into the trailer. "You think I really care if you have a messy room?"
I didn't know how to tell him I just didn't want him in my room, so I wasn't sure how to respond.
"Um..." I looked around, wondering what I was supposed to do. "Are you thirsty?"
"No," he said.
"Okay. Well... oh!" I said brightly. "I have your notes on the Egypt project," I said, holding up the folder.
"Do you?" he asked, advancing on me.
I instinctively backed up a step. "Yep. If you wanted to, we could go over them."
"That's okay," he said, taking the folder out of my hand and taking another step toward me as I retreated another step.
"But—um, there's a kind of order to them," I offered, backing up another step.
"I'm sure I'll figure it out.”
Before I knew it, I had backed myself right up against the wall, and he smirked like a hungry lion about to have his dinner. I thought of what else I might be able to use to stall, a little nervous that the moment was actually there, but before I could say anything he was right there, holding my arms and pinning me up against the wall as his mouth came down on mine.
My heart leapt with excitement.
How he knew exactly what I would like, I didn't know, but he certainly seemed to. Pressing his body more fully against mine, he pinned me even more firmly against the wall and I attempted to free my arms, but he didn't let go, just held tighter and kept kissing me.
"You're not letting me move," I murmured against his lips.
"You like it," he murmured right back.
I smirked that time. "Well, yeah, but that's not the point."
"Where's your room?" he asked, his lips finding my ear.
I moaned a little, tilting my head back and closing my eyes. "I can't remember when you do that."
He chuckled, finally letting my arms go and tugging me away from the wall, hauling me down the hall. "I'll refresh your memory."
Momentarily forgetting that I had been intent on keeping him out of the sanctuary of my room, I led him right to my door, but I no more than opened it and he was kissing me again, kicking my door shut and walking me backwards toward my bed.
"You're very controlling in bed.”
He pushed me down on the bed, coming down on top of me and straddling me. "Yeah, but you like controlling."
"Only in bed," I stated, giving him a narrowed look.
"Well, I'm not interested in what you like anywhere else," he replied, that cocky twinkle in his eyes.
I shook my head, looking up at him, unable to stifle a small smile. "You're such an asshole."
"You like that, too." He smirked, reaching behind his head and taking out his pony tail, shaking his golden locks loose.
My mouth went dry at the sight, and I wanted my fingers in it again, so I tugged him down and ran my fingers through his hair as he leaned down and started kissing my neck.
I couldn't decide whether I loved or hated the feelings that he unleashed in me the second he took his hair down, but it certainly made my entire body vibrate with awareness. I didn't even know why, but it just sent this charge through my body, making me feel strangely bold, ready to take what I wanted from him—even when I knew I probably shouldn't want anything from him.
Derek pulled his shirt off first, and even in the darkness I could see the smooth lines of the muscles in his arms, his stomach, his chest. I loved how he looked. He didn't give me much time to look, however, as he bent down and went straight for my jeans. Unbuttoning and unzipping them, he slid them off my body, tossing them off to the side of the bed. He wasted very little time, leaning down to take my lips in a forceful kiss, causing me to squirm against him when he captured my arms again and brought them up above my head.
"Do you like that?" he murmured a little roughly in my ear.
Feeling oddly defiant, I said, "No."
He kind of laughed, changing his position so that he was only holding my arms with one of his hands and sliding his other hand down my body, between my legs and pushing his fingers under my underwear, making me gasp. "Liar," he accused, feeling my wetness.
But I refused to admit it, half-heartedly attempting to pull my arms free. He narrowed his eyes at me, probably trying to decide if I was serious or not, but he must have decided I wasn't, because he didn't let go.
Instead he allowed his free hand to wander up under my shirt, inside of my bra, and he found my nipple, brushing it with his thumb. I couldn't seem to stifle a little moan when he did that, and I pushed my head back into the pillow.
He merely smirked down at me as he felt my nipple harden under his touch, then he started to toy with it, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing until it almost hurt. My eyes closed, my head thrown back, I was helpless to do anything but moan as he teased my breasts, favoring my nipples. I could feel the area between my legs starting to throb. As he pressed his body against mine, the feeling only intensified.
Finally, my arms free, I brought my hands up to rest on his shoulder, instinctively pulling him closer. I felt him grind against me and I hissed, without realizing what I was doing, and proceeded to drag my nails down his back, enjoying that I made his head go back and a groaned, "Damn," escape his lips.
A thrill shot through my body when I saw that apparently that had been the right thing to do, because when he looked at me after that, there was something wild and unrestrained in those gorgeous blue eyes of his. I gave him an impish little smile and raised an eyebrow innocently, causing him to shake his head.
His hands made their way down to my hips and he peeled my panties off, tossing them on the floor and beginning to unbutton his own pants. I didn't see why he got to do it, so I pushed his hands away and started undoing his pants myself, unzipping them and tugging on them. He rolled over on his back so that I could get up on my knees and peel them off him, along with his boxers, while his hand tangled in my hair. He wrapped my hair in a ponytail around his hand and tugged hard, eliciting a helpless groan, then he gently pushed my head down between his legs.
I let him guide my head down until I had taken the tip of him into my mouth. He felt so smooth and hard at the same time, and I was sure I had never felt anything like that in my mouth before, confirming that he had been lying about getting head from me at the party. He pushed my head down a little more, and I took his direction, taking more of him into my mouth. I decided to better position myself by moving between his legs, then I started sucking harder, grasping his shaft lower with both of my hands.
"Fuck, yes, just like that," he said.
Knowing I was at least doing something right encouraged me, so I continued for a couple minutes. Then I felt Derek moving me, and I wondered what I was doing wrong until I realized he was only better positioning so he could reach me, and I felt his finger slip inside of me. I gasped, still with him in my mouth and he started to rhythmically move his fingers in and out of my body. I was moaning much more naturally at that point, although it was hard to keep my focus on pleasuring him.
Finally he withdrew his fingers, momentarily disappointing me, until he pulled my hair again, lifting my mouth away from him and pulling me up. He let go of my hair and rolled me over on my back, bracing his weight on the bed and climbing on top of me.
With one of his arms he reached under my back and lifted me, and before I knew what he was doing I felt the hard length of him slide inside of me. The delicious friction caused yet another moan, and then he pulled back, thrusting harder.
"Derek," I moaned, wrapping my arms around him and lifting my hips against him, trying to move closer.
"You like when I fuck you, don't you?" he murmured.
I would have loved to tell him no, but as I was bucking and writhing against him, I thought it might not be very convincing.
"Answer me," he said, pounding into me even harder.
I threw my head back again, moaning at the amazing feeling. "No," I growled, still defiant.
He was fucking me so hard that the entire bed was moving, and I was sure I might die if he stopped.
"No?" he questioned, slowing his thrusts.
I frowned a little, wrapping my legs around him and lifting my pelvis closer to him. But he was stronger, and he pulled back.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
I knew what he was doing, and it was frustrating me. "Derek," I whined, trying to urge him to resume his thrusts. How he was exhibiting such self-control was beyond me, because I was going out of my mind and he made it seem so easy to slow down.
Then he stopped, withdrawing completely, and I groaned in protest.
"I'll just have to try harder," he said, confusing me as he looked like he was moving away from me. I was just about to object when he grabbed my legs, pulling them open wider and he bent his head between my legs.
I cried out his name as I felt his tongue move up inside of me. Then he urged the lips apart and his tongue moved up, connecting with my most sensitive spot. I gasped as his tongue flicked at it. It felt so good, but I wanted more. Compared to the much larger organ he had been pounding inside of me only moments before, I felt like he was just teasing me with his tongue.
And he was.
I tangled my hands in his hair, tugging as hard as I pleased, but he didn't stop. Apparently hair-pulling didn't bother him anymore than it bothered me, which pleased me.
I felt his mouth pull away from me, and I did murmur, "Don't stop."
He positioned himself back between my legs, but instead of pushing inside of me, he waited at the entrance, butting against me, teasing me, but not doing anything more.
I was so frustrated that I would have probably begged him to be inside of me again if that was what it took, but he just leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Nikki, are you sure you don't want me to fuck you?"
"Yes. No!" I said quickly, trying to form the proper response.
"Which is it?" he asked, moving less than an inch inside of me.
"Yes, I do," I finally said, hating that he made me say it.
"You do... what?"
I glared up at him, my labored breathing not really helping my case.
"Say it, Nikki," he said, looking at me intensely with those beautiful blue eyes of his.
I growled in frustration, but then, swallowing my pride, I said, "I want you to fuck me."
"Good girl," he groaned, thrusting hard inside of me.
"Fuck you," I gasped, arching my back.
I saw that this surprised him, and one blonde eyebrow shot up, but I saw no reason to hold back then, so I dug my nails into his back again and bucked against him.
He grabbed a fistful of my hair again and tugged so hard that it jerked my head back, but that only intensified the pressure building inside of me, making my entire body feel like it was going to explode. I was so caught up in the moment, nearly out of my mind with need, that when I finally felt myself getting close, my breaths coming out in pants, I could barely make out what he was saying when, as he took me harder and faster than he had before, he whispered, "I'm going to drive you this crazy every single time, Nikki."
But he sent me soaring over the edge as he said my name, and all I could do was cry out my release, tightening my legs around him as the most earth shattering feeling flooded my entire body. I felt him pump into me one last time, then he groaned and took his own release before finally falling down limp beside me on the bed.
As my body began to recover, I rolled over to wrap my arms around him, snuggling my face into his chest.
I was only there for about three seconds, however, when he gently but firmly moved me off of him. I didn't know what he was doing, but I realized that he appeared to be getting off the bed, picking his boxers up and pulling them back on.
Confused, I pushed myself up on my elbow and frowned at him.
"What are you doing?" I asked, my confusion evident in my voice.
"Leaving," he said simply.
My eyes widened. "What? Why?"
He glanced back at the bed, pulling his jeans up and zipping them. "We're done here."
"But..." I started to protest, wanting to demand my rightful cuddling since the sex was done and over with.
"But what?" he asked, looking distinctly amused as he seemed to read my thoughts. "You didn't think cuddling was part of our arrangement, did you?"
My lips tightened, any pleasant feelings I might have been starting to have about him evaporating instantly.
"Get out," I spat.
He merely smirked, picking his shirt up from off the ground.
I felt so pissed off that I realized if he didn't hurry up, I was going to grab my alarm clock off the end table and whip it right at his smug head.
"I want to see the tape you made," I stated as I watched him put his shirt on.
"Why?" he asked, his tone idle, almost bored.
"Because if you don't show it to me, I'm never going to let you anywhere near me again, and if you want to broadcast the video on the school website, you can be my guest," I replied icily.
He watched me for a couple seconds before nodding. "Fine."
I had gotten my way, but I still felt so angry that I wanted to hit him, so I couldn't bring myself to feel any satisfaction over my small victory.
"I like you better when you're drunk," he remarked. "You're nicer."
"I like you better when I'm drunk, too," I shot back. "I can imagine you're someone else."
"Someone you don't hate as much?" he replied, not looking at all wounded.
"There's no one that I hate more, so that could be just about anyone," I replied sweetly.
He shook his head, a smile still on that smug face of his and he said, "See you tomorrow, Nikki. Oh," he added as an afterthought, "and thanks for the notes."
I merely glared, not responding, and waited until he was out of the room before I released a growl of anger and frustration.
That bastard!
Ooh, I hated him so much! He was frustrating and mean and... confusing, and I hated him with a passion! Never had I hated someone as much as I hated Derek in that moment as he walked out of my room.
I finally rolled out of bed and went in to take a nice hot shower, hoping to clean my body everywhere that he had soiled it with his awful touch.
Even after my shower, I felt so dirty and so angry, and I imagined myself as one of those Elmer Fudd cartoons, my face red and smoke coming out of my ears.
As if blackmailing me and making me admit to liking his touch –even though I loathed him—wasn't enough, he just had to outdo himself. Heaven forbid he leave me feeling like a human being. Oh no. A Noble would absolutely have to leave me feeling like dirt on the bottom of his shoe.
They were so much alike that it made me sick, I thought angrily as I yanked the blankets and the sheets off my bed, hauling them out of my room and toward the washing machine.
I stewed angrily until my boiling blood cooled to a steady simmer, then I sat on my bare bed and pulled out my journal, deciding to get my feelings out on paper before my head exploded.
The next day I decided to walk to school to get some of my leftover negative energy out. I wasn't as enraged as I had been the night before, but I was still pretty pissed off.
What really confused me was the fact that he had been so nice to me Monday. I had been absolutely certain that he wasn't as bad as I thought he was.
After the previous night, I decided he wasn't as bad as I thought he was—he was worse.
But it still confused me, and I hated to be confused. I had some kind of innate need to understand things, so Derek's little Jekyll and Hyde routine really threw me.
I felt downright used, manipulated, and I wanted nothing more than to take his pretty little head right off his stupid shoulders.
As I walked into the school, I told myself to get a grip. Yes, the previous night had been terrible and Derek had been a complete dickhead, but I really shouldn't have expected more from him. He was his father's son, after all, and I knew better than anyone the way my mother been treated by his douchebag of a father. Honestly, expecting more from the son had probably been foolish.
Still, when I noticed Derek sitting on my desk, I felt my blood pressure skyrocket.
I told myself to calm down, that he wasn't worth it, that it wasn't a big deal. It was just sex, and sex didn't mean anything, so there was no need to let him rile me.
But I hadn't been prepared for the final insult, so I was somehow still surprised when he leaned down beside me and dropped a single dollar bill on top of my books.
"Your tip," he whispered.
I gritted my teeth, my jaw locked so tight that it actually hurt, and I picked the dollar bill up, tearing it in half and then ripping it into tiny pieces and throwing them at him. I wanted so badly to say something that would really wound him, but I was so furious that I couldn't even think straight.
He clicked his tongue at me and said, "So ungrateful. But I guess the experience was tip enough for you, huh?" he said, smiling that smug little smile of his.
I didn't even realize what I was about to say, but it came spilling out of my mouth with more venom than I knew I was capable of: "I wish you would have been in the car with her."
Instantly, his smile fell off his face, and I knew that I had drawn blood.
I looked away then, stubbornly ignoring him and opening up my book to the appropriate page. He stood there long enough that I thought he was going to say something, but the teacher told everyone to take their seats, so he slowly made his way back to his own desk.
I was glad that I had hurt him, and I knew I should feel better about it, but for some reason, I felt guilty tears burning behind my eyes.
Even though he was cruel, even though I hated him, I was already starting to wish I hadn't said that to him. I had basically just wished him dead, and I had never said something so awful to anyone before. I had never even thought something quite so terrible before. And I didn't even mean it. As much as I hated him, as cruel as he was, I wouldn't truly wish he was dead, I had just been so angry, and then he had made it worse by adding insult to injury...
When the incredibly long class was finally over, I tried to make eye contact with Derek, but he walked right past my desk, his jaw set.
He had some nerve being mad at me, I told myself. But still, I felt something like guilt settle in my stomach, and as I went to class after class, it only got worse. It was gnawing away at me, and while initially I used my anger to try to excuse it, by lunch I felt so sick to my stomach that I decided to apologize.
When I walked into the lunch room, however, the first thing I saw was Derek with his arm around Kayla, leaning in and whispering something in her ear as she giggled.
The guilty feeling seemed to dissipate, and I found myself simply standing there, staring.
Derek looked up as if he sensed my presence, and that time he did make eye contact with me. He kept watching me as he leaned in even closer and started to kiss Kayla's ear.
What an asshole, I thought, feeling unreasonably angry. No doubt he would cuddle with her, I thought scathingly.
I decided that I hated her, too, and I was glad I had fucked her boyfriend the night before. In fact, I kind of felt like marching up to her table and telling her, watching that stupid little smile fall right off her face in front of all her friends.
Instead, I turned around and walked out of the lunch room, knowing I would lose my appetite in there, so instead I headed for the vending machines.