Page 9 of Dealing Dirty
My stomach cramps painfully at the thought of seeing Derrick again. I can hardly picture him without feeling the brush of his soft lips against my skin or those big hands groping and grabbing as they traversed my body.
For some reason, the night we spent together blends into one big blur after I’d entered their hotel room. There was a redhead who was flirting with him at the bar and—I swallow thickly—I remember guiding his hand under my dress. But when I woke up in Derrick’s bed with nothing but his T-shirt on, I knew I’d made a huge mistake.
I was so embarrassed, and I ended up lying to Cassidy, telling her it was the best sex I’d ever had. When the truth is, I can’t remember a single thing that happened after blacking out and going on autopilot.
The whole thing must have been god-awful for him. Me, flopping around like a fish out of the water, and him, finishing as quickly as possible.
No, something tells me Derrick would have beenverythorough. My legs press together as a quick rush of heat zings straight to my center. I imagine the way he would glide in and out of me, shifting with a soft moan to relieve some pressure. He probably took his time, regardless of how sloppy I was, because he’s a gentleman while I’m just a tramp.
I told him that it was a one-time thing—and I’d meant it—but still… I wish it could have been pleasant, at least. Now, like it or not, I’ll be working with the guy.
How am I supposed to face his sexy ass after I humped him while blackout drunk?
Not your finest hour, Jules.
What’s worse, he can’t be thrilled that I’ve been ignoring his texts and phone calls. I shove the guilt deep down and wrap it up in a little hidden box.
I’ve made myself perfectly clear where I stand. Besides, there’s nothing worse than a clingy guy trying to make something serious out of nothing. Most of the men I’ve slept with were more than happy with a few nights between the sheets and little to no attachments, but then again, there’s always got to be that one.
I glance at my phone to the last text I received from him and delete the thread without another thought.
See? Zero attachments.
Hell will freeze over before I end up likeMamá—tied down to some man, barefoot and pregnant in his kitchen. She’s had five kids, been married for an eternity, and has never even stepped foot outside of this town.
She may want those things for my future, but to me, that’s not living.
I want to be the wind rolling through the country hills and free as the bluest bird. There’ll be a song in my heart and a whisper in my soul, carrying me where I’m meant to go.
Mackville isn’t it for me. And as much as I love Cassidy, my parents, and the opportunity Jack is giving me, I’m not sure it ever will be.
Chapter Two
Juliana
The clear tarp covering the entrance to The Pound flutters when I gently push it aside. The space is dim and dark as my eyes gradually adjust.
There’s rustling beside me, paired with a startling grunt.
“Tank,” I breathe, relieved to see that it’s the doorman. He and Cassidy may have come to an understanding after they went head-to-head in an intense game of quarters, but I’m keeping my eye on the grumpy bastard.
“Have you seen Cassidy?” I ask.
A portion of the main bar has the same tarp draped across it, and there’s caution tape zigzagging around the hallway leading to the lockers. I sneak a peek at Micah, who’s flexing for two women with a case of the giggles.
No sign of Derrick, thankfully.
Tank is perched on a stool that I have a hard time believing can support his full weight. His thick arms cross over his drum-like chest as we fall into a quiet stare-off.
I glare back, not at all fazed by the faintest smile tugging his lip before he finally points in Cassidy’s general direction.
Muttering a thank you, I scour the evening crowd for her. The first time we visited this place, all I wanted was to make her feel better.
Her mom, Glenda, is a wonderful woman. She’s been like an aunt to me for most of my life, but Cassidy needed that silent permission from a friend to get out from under her daily duties and not be ridden with guilt about it.
Even though those events led to losing our steady paying jobs and someone we’d loved and cared for, I can’t and won’t regret that night. She’s happy and carefree now, and banging her superhot boyfriend on the regular.
You’re welcome.
