19
Audra
"This is some of the best pizza I've ever had," I tell Derrick. I'm starving. He had his dessert first—me. God, he's so good at that. I hate every woman he's ever touched, and yet in some ways I'm almost grateful. He wouldn't be the experienced Derrick without going through a few—hundred—women before me.
"Doesn't taste nearly as good as you."
I lean over and bump his shoulder with mine. He isn't at all what I was expecting.
After he, and this is a quote, "feasted" on my pussy, we fucked again. There was nothing slow or languorous about it that time. It was hard and dirty, as if he couldn't get enough of me. Each time I thought he couldn't go any deeper, he adjusted me in a way where he did.
I swear I heard him moan, "mine," but I can't be sure. I really don't see a way we can go back to pretending we aren't into one another. But what about work?
"Stop it," he chides.
"Stop what?"
"Thinking. It'll be there to worry about tomorrow."
I sigh. "But, Derrick…"
"Audra. We'll figure it out, okay?" he says with such conviction I really want to believe him.
"One thing…"
He groans. "You are so stubborn."
I smile. "I am. You like that about me."
He smiles back. "I guess I do."
"You guess?" I lift my brows.
"What's the one thing, baby?"
I'm really starting to like him calling me baby. I remember overhearing a conversation he had with the two idiots. Mark insisted Derrick come up with a universal nickname for the women he fucked, just in case he forgot their names. Derrick shook him off and told him if he couldn't remember her name for the few hours he was with her, he shouldn't be there. Even though he was using her, she was using him right back. Then and there he gained a small amount of my respect. It means he's never had a nickname for anyone, but it seems he has one for me. It gives me a tingle of hope there's more to this than fucking.
"Can you contact the two idiots and ask them to keep this to themselves?"
Derrick frowns. "I guess I can do that."
"Why do you look less than thrilled at that?" I ask.
He takes a bite of his pizza, that manly square jaw moving with the motion. He licks his lips and I remember him, less than fifteen minutes, licking me between my legs until I climaxed. I hold back the moan of arousal at the reminder.
He takes his time, thinking. Then turns to look at me. "Are you ashamed to be with me?"
I can't hide my surprise, my shock, if I tried. "No. God, no, that's not…" He stares. I reach out and cover his hand with mine, pulling it between both of mine. "No, Derrick. It's just something I'd like to handle myself. My department—I'm their boss. I don't want them hearing I'm fucking my boss from anyone but me."
He smirks. "You gonna tell 'em just like that?"
I laugh. "Could you imagine? I think Harriette would have a heart attack."
"Don't you kid yourself. She got drunk at the last Christmas party and told me to stop fucking all the strange and get with the right one."
"She did not!" I giggle.
"Oh, she did. Then she pointed right at you."
