Protecting What's His
Page 43After Derek’s terse initial messages, there were two from Willa begging her to come home. A knot formed in her throat at hearing the fear in her sister’s voice. Ginger pressed the speed dial for Willa’s cell phone. She answered on the first ring.
“I’m going to kick your ass, Ginger.”
“Hey, Wip.”
“Not an appropriate time for nicknames.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
A shuddering sigh. “Are you all right? Is Derek with you?”
“Yeah, he’s here. I’m fine.”
“Thank f**k. Don’t you ever do anything stupid like that again.”
She glanced at Derek. “Willa, why didn’t you tell me you knew? About the money.”
A long sigh. “You know how we operate, Ginger. We don’t talk until we’re ready. If ever.”
“That ends now, okay? No more secrets. We can do better than that.”
“Okay.” Willa sniffed. “Okay.”
“Deal.”
She hung up and risked another look at Derek. His expression hadn’t changed a bit. Punching the button to play her remaining voice mails, Ginger listened to Derek’s deep voice in her ear. The first couple messages were filled with palpable anger, but around the tenth voice mail, he turned coaxing and finally resigned. She knew Derek could hear every word from the driver’s seat, his body tensing or relaxing at certain points.
“Ginger…I wish you would answer the phone. I really need to hear your voice.” A deep, steadying breath. “You know when I fell in love with you?” Ginger’s hand tightened on the phone, her pulse hammering. “That night in my bathroom after your apartment flooded. You’d been crying, but you looked so goddamn fearless. Maybe I should have told you how I feel before now. Maybe it would have prevented this fool’s mission.” He cleared his throat with difficulty. “Probably not. You’re too damn stubborn. But then, I love you for that, too, don’t I? Call me, sweetheart. I’ll come get you and take you home. Bye, baby.”
Ginger hung up the phone and stared blindly out the window, cars and buildings whizzing past in a blur. Derek’s words repeated themselves over and over in her head. He loved her. But could he forgive her? He couldn’t even look her in the eye. Ginger thought of the hard expression on his face when he’d opened the trunk. The way he’d tossed her in his car like a rag doll. Once again, she’d needed his comfort and he didn’t provide it. He couldn’t just decide to love her then disregard her so quickly, damn him. If he could change his mind about loving her so easily, she could surely reverse it back in her favor, right?
Derek veered off the highway onto an exit ramp, turned at the first light, and pulled into a motel parking lot.
“Why are we stopping?”
“Because I haven’t showered or slept in three days and I need to do both before driving any farther.”
Ginger’s eyes traced over his heavily stubbled jaw and dark-circled eyes. Her heart tripped over itself at the fatigue she saw there. Before she could offer to take the wheel, he climbed out of the vehicle, strode into the motel office, and returned a few minutes later with a room key.
He jerked open her passenger side door and waited for Ginger to slide out, then grabbed a leather gym bag from the backseat.
Once they reached their room, Derek locked the door behind them and removed his shirt. In the dim light filtering through the window, shadows played against his muscular chest and back. Black dress pants hung low on his hips, but soon he removed those, too.
Ginger sank onto the bed and tried to sift through the conflicting emotions roiling inside of her. Anger warred with pain. Guilt simmered beneath the ever-present desire she felt around Derek. He was treating her like one of his subordinates and she hated him for it. Why couldn’t he just talk to her, order her around—something?
Okay scratch that, she so wasn’t in the mood to be ordered around. Ginger scoffed. “Not a chance.”
“I would remove them for you, but I can’t ensure they’ll remain intact.”
Hating the hollow quality to his voice, she rose from the bed and stomped toward him. “Derek, you’ve had your time to be mad. I did something foolish, I know that. But you can’t ignore me forever.”
He moved so fast, Ginger didn’t have time to protest as Derek ripped the shirt from her body. Her shorts were yanked down her legs next, along with her panties. Then he threw her over his shoulder and strode into the bathroom. The light flipped on so she could see herself in the mirror dangling over his back.
“What are you doing? Are you crazy?”
“I’m taking a goddamn shower. I don’t trust you to stay put, so you’re taking one with me. Would you like to remove your boots or will they be joining us?”
Having no choice, Ginger frantically toed her boots off and let them drop to the ground. She heard the shower start, then a moment later he stepped under the spray. The warm water rushed over her, soaking her bra and running down into her eyes. Finally, Derek bent and set her down on her feet.
She launched herself at him, pummeling his wet chest with her fists. He absorbed the blows without reaction, not even trying to prevent her.
“Why don’t you just get it over with?” Ginger cried through gritted teeth. “Punish me. You know you want to.”
Derek’s eyes darkened and his fists clenched, letting Ginger know she’d hit her mark. She removed her bra and stepped under the shower spray, letting him get an eyeful of the water rushing over her naked body. Then she turned and placed her palms high against the tile wall.
“Punish me.”
“You need it.”
“Don’t tell me what I need,” he growled into her wet hair. “You’ve made it clear how little you care.”
Her throat squeezed at the pain behind his words, but she pushed on. “I need it, too. We’ll both feel better afterward.”
Breath harsh against her ear, Derek pressed against her back. “You would like that, wouldn’t you? A spanking followed by a long, wet ride on my dick?”
“Yes. Yes, please, Derek.” Arching her back, Ginger pressed her behind against his slippery arousal, working her hips, enticing him to follow through. She made a sound of protest when his fingers dug into her waist to still her movements.
“Too bad, baby. It’s not punishment when you enjoy the sentence. No, I have something far worse in store for you.”
Derek picked up a bar of soap wrapped in paper, ripping it open with his teeth as Ginger watched over her shoulder. Then he lathered the bar in his hand and began to wash her. Gently, his hands ran over her back, across her belly, dipping between her legs just long enough to frustrate her. He gathered her hair in one hand and pulled it over her shoulder so he could wash the blood from her face. Ginger’s hands slipped from the wall and she swayed back toward him unconsciously, greedy for his touch.
“Wh-what are you doing?”