Protecting What's His (12 page)

If he didn’t want to lose her, he needed to figure it out. Fast.

He just hoped like hell it wasn’t too late.

“I’ve got to get out of here.”

“I thought you might.”

…

“Aw, come on now, sugar tits. I’ve been tipping you all night. Show me something.”

Ginger ignored the light-beer-drinking Neanderthal she’d nicknamed Nacho addressing her from the end of the bar, completely unaware of the tortilla chip stuck to his shirt. Subtly, she checked for the security guards in the crowd, hoping they’d come remove this guy quick. She’d alerted them over ten minutes ago that one of her customers needed tossing out, but they appeared to have forgotten or just plain blown her off. Any other night, she would brazen it out. Banter with the sorry fucker until he walked away or got too drunk to respond. It would probably even entertain the other patrons and increase her tips.

But he’d caught her on a bad night. A real bad night. And honestly, she could think of nothing more satisfying right now than gulping down each of her customers’ drinks shotgun-style and line-dancing on the bar.

What the hell is this techno music about anyway? Everyone’s just pretending to like it, right?

“Baby, you look mad. Don’t be like that.”

Ginger squeezed her eyes shut, wishing Neander-Nacho hadn’t called her
baby
. It reminded her of Derek and their one-night stand. Their truly amazing one-night stand that would never be repeated, obviously, since he hadn’t bothered to call or stop by once since it had happened. Seemed pretty damn clear where they stood.

The fact that she’d been a virgin probably scared the hell out of him, made him run for the hills thinking she’d be all clingy. Ready to go eat brunch and pick out a puppy.

Fat chance
. She ate breakfast, or she ate lunch. The two had no business being combined.

Apart from Willa finding out, Ginger refused to regret it, though. In fact, when she saw Derek again, she might even wink and blow him a kiss. Just to let him know how much
non-
regretting she was doing.

She’d known from the beginning where this thing between Derek and her was headed and she’d gone there willingly. Eagerly. Sans panties, even. She didn’t want a relationship with him. With anyone. So why had her bravado deserted her when she needed it most? She couldn’t stop moping around like one of the characters in some scripted teen drama. Frankly, she was kind of embarrassed for herself.

It reminded her too much of someone. She’d been avoiding admitting it, but thanks to Neander-Nacho’s antics, she’d started hanging streamers and blowing up balloons at her own pity party. She glanced up from the cash register and caught sight of herself in the mirror behind the bar. The dull, defeated girl she saw there terrified her.

“Sweetheart, I’m
talking
to you. Not that I don’t mind seeing you from behind.” High fives, the clinking of glasses against one another.

Dull and defeated, my ass.

Ginger spun around and approached the jackass who no longer deserved a nickname. She spoke loud enough for anyone within earshot to hear. “Listen, you ignorant bastard, I have some news for you. There are
literally
dozens
of loser, backward-hat-wearing, fart-joke-telling sons of bitches exactly like you in this establishment right now. You are not unique in any way. In fact, you are boring the shit out of me with your predictability. So finish your goddamn drink and pack it up.”

Then she picked up his untouched shot of tequila and tossed it back, reveling in the burn as it flowed down her throat.

The handful of patrons who could hear her tirade over the pounding music applauded and whistled for her. Even the guy’s friends poked him, repeating the highlights of her put-down. He didn’t look happy about it in the least. His face turned bright red, his fist clenching on the bar. Slightly alarmed, Ginger turned back around, intending to call for security once more.

A hand banded around her bicep, yanking her backward. The wooden bar bit into her upper back and her leg slammed into a sharp corner of the ice bin. She struggled to pull her arm from his hand to no avail. His friends shouted at him to let go, but his grip merely tightened.

“You’re a whore!” He yelled against her ear. She flinched at the volume of his voice. In a panic, she swung her eyes to the other end of the bar, where Amanda jogged toward her wide-eyed, dropping the drink she’d been pouring on the way to reach her.

Suddenly Ginger’s arm ripped free of his grasp and she slumped to the floor, hidden from view behind the bar. A loud crash, followed by shouting coming from the dance floor, had her scrambling to her feet.

Ginger’s eyes widened. Derek stood behind Nacho, gripping him around the throat with murder in his eyes.

Chapter Fifteen

Nacho’s hands tore at Derek’s grip, trying to free his neck so he could breathe. Likewise, Nacho’s friends appeared frantic, trying to pull Derek away from Nacho, but he wouldn’t budge.

Derek’s turbulent gaze met hers briefly and she read his silent question there. She nodded at him once to assure him she was unharmed. Then without warning, he slammed Nacho’s head against the bar with such force that Ginger jumped back to escape the blood spurting from his nose. Even the crunch of cartilage breaking could be heard over the pulsing music.

“Derek, no! Stop!”

The club had ground to a halt, everyone turning to see what the disturbance was about. Customers moved back and out of the way as Derek pulled Nacho off the bar and launched him onto the ground, then straddled his neck, clearly intending to continue the one-sided fight. Ginger knew she had to take action or Derek would seriously injure the other man.

Using the ice machine for leverage, she leaped on the bar and jumped down on the other side. She winced at the pain in her right leg, but pushed forward through the gaping club-goers to throw herself on Derek’s back. Ginger wrapped her arms around his chest, dug in her feet, and pulled to no avail. He still landed a punch squarely in Nacho’s face and reared back to hit him once more. She grabbed his arm and held on with all her might.

“Listen to me! You need to stop!” Out of the corner of her eye, Ginger saw the club’s two burly security guards pushing their way through the crowd. Thankfully, a different fight had just broken out between two girls and drew the guards’ attention away from Derek.

As pissed as she felt, it occurred to her that Derek, being a police lieutenant, would definitely not benefit from being involved in a bar fight. She needed to get him out of the club before the guards realized the real fight was on her side of the bar and tried to detain him. In his current irrational state, he might even fight back and the situation would only escalate.

She put her mouth against his ear and tried to reason with him. “Derek, please. I’m fine. You need to stop right now. You are going to kill him. I’m fine.”

His body shook with adrenaline. “He had his hands on you.”

“It’s my fault. I provoked him. But it’s over now.”

Derek turned his head and met her eyes. “Your
fault
?”

She flinched at his fury. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the security guards parting the sea of club-goers, nearly upon them. As an employee, she would have a better chance of getting Derek out of the bar without being held up by security.

And he
had
been defending her. Despite his extreme and unnecessary methods, a tiny part of her felt grateful that after years of inexcusable behavior from male customers, someone besides her had finally stepped in and put a stop to it. No accounting for subtlety.

“Get your shit.”

Ginger recoiled. She’d already made the choice to leave with him, but his high-handed tone infuriated her, made her want to change her mind. “You can’t just demand I leave in the middle of my shift!”

“I can shut this place down with one phone call. Give me a reason to do it. Please.”

Anger rapidly building inside of her, she shot to her feet. Nacho writhed on the floor in front of him, hands clutching his shattered nose. Beside her, Derek growled. He’d noticed the bleeding cut on her leg and looked ready to turn on Nacho once more.

The security guards reached Derek then, but he extricated his badge and barked something at them before they made the mistake of touching him. He turned to her, his eyes nearly black with fury. “Ginger. Get. Your. Shit.”

She turned toward the bar and signaled Amanda. Already having anticipated her request, the other woman tossed Ginger her purse, which she’d stashed in a cabinet beneath the register. Ginger mouthed a thank-you
just as Derek put a hand on her back, then steered her, through their rapt audience, toward the door.

“Where is your coat?”

“In the back room,” she snapped. “You didn’t exactly give me enough time to go get it.”

He whipped off his jacket and settled it on her shoulders just as they exited the club into the cold Chicago evening. Smokers hung around in packs outside, oblivious to the scene that had just taken place inside the club. Ginger vaguely registered the bouncer at the door calling her name questioningly before Derek boosted her into the passenger seat of his SUV.

They didn’t speak on the ride home, the air thick and tense between them. Derek gripped the steering wheel tightly under knuckles smeared with blood, a muscle ticking dangerously in his jaw.

His obvious anger only fueled Ginger’s. The second they pulled up in front of the building, she jumped out of the car and slammed the door, stomping toward the building without looking back. She sensed Derek right behind her as she turned her key to unlock the front door to the building, but she refused to acknowledge him. When they reached the third floor, she flung off his jacket and threw it over her shoulder at him without breaking stride toward her temporary apartment.

She heard Derek’s dark laughter behind her. “We can have it out in your place or mine, Ginger. It doesn’t matter to me. But it happens tonight.”

“Fuck you.”

“Inevitably.”

Ginger froze outside her door. If she ignored him and went inside, she would fume until the sun came up, imagining all the insults she could have thrown at him. A fight would be infinitely more satisfying.

She marched back down the stairs toward Derek’s place. No way would she wake Willa up with an argument between her and Derek. Furthermore, she didn’t want her sister knowing what had taken place tonight at Sensation. It would upset her.

He wants a fight? I’ll give him one to remember.

Derek unlocked the door and gestured for Ginger to precede him inside, which she did with a toss of her hair. After flipping on the overhead light, she flung her purse on his kitchen table and faced him. He was looking for something under his kitchen sink, which he eventually found. A first-aid kit.

Ginger scowled over his concerned gesture. She’d come here for a fight,
dammit.

“All right, Derek. You proved tonight you had the biggest dick in the room. You’ve clubbed me over the head and brought me back to your cave. Where do you want me? We don’t even have to be quiet this time.” She hopped up on the kitchen table and lifted her shirt. “How about right here on the table? Or maybe the couch?”

Derek took two quick strides toward her and slammed the metal box down on the table. He pulled the hem of her shirt back down before it reached her breasts. But not before she saw a familiar hunger tighten his features. “All right, you’ve made your point.”

“Really? I feel like I haven’t even started.” Her eyes flashed with heat. “What were you doing at Sensation tonight?”

“I came to see you.”

“Why?”

“You damn well shouldn’t have to ask me that.” Uncharacteristic regret flashed across his features. “Look, Ginger, I should have called you. Or at least said good-bye Sunday morning. The fact that I was practically handcuffed to my desk for two days is no excuse. I handled this badly.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Handled
what
badly, Derek? There is nothing here. We had sex. People do it all the time. I don’t need you to write me a poem.”

“It was your first time.” Anger infused his tone. “You deserved more than a quick fuck against my bathroom door.”

How
dare
he tell her what she deserved? He didn’t know what growing up with Valerie had been like. Watching her mother’s self-worth wither or thrive, depending on who occupied her bed. She’d made the decision at a young age never to give
anyone
the power to destroy her ability to reason. That included the man standing in front of her.

Ginger leaned forward, getting right in his face. “
I
decided when, where, and with whom my first time happened. No one made that decision for me. And I don’t regret it. I’m sorry if you do. Won’t let it happen again.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. I don’t regret it. I’ll
never
regret it. I just wish you would have told me.” He brushed the hair off her shoulder, his fingers lingering against her skin. “I could have hurt you, baby.”

The Derek who hadn’t called her for two days then started a bar brawl vanished, replaced by the gentle, caring Derek who scared her so much more. Recognizing the shift in his demeanor, she pushed his hand away in panic and tried to slide off the table.

He gripped her legs until she stopped struggling, then knelt down in front of her with the first-aid kit.

She stared at the top of his head, dumbfounded. “What is this? What are you doing?”

Derek began cleaning the wound on her leg with peroxide and cotton. “I’m taking care of your cut before it gets infected.”

“No. That’s not what I meant. I don’t
need
this from you, Derek. Do you have some misplaced sense of guilt because you bagged a virgin? Because you shouldn’t.” She banged her fist on the table to get his attention. He ignored her, produced a bandage, and applied it on top of her injury. “Stop this bullshit! I don’t need you to pretend you want me for more than sex.”

Derek shot to his feet, looming furiously above her. “You have no idea what I want.”

Except, she did. And, oh God, he really meant it. He wanted her. And not just for her body. She could see it in his face, hear it in his words. How had she gotten here?

Push him away.

“What if
I
don’t want more with
you
? Did you even consider that?”

“If you didn’t want more with me, Ginger, you wouldn’t have made me your first.”

Her laughter came out sounding hysterical. “God, you’re so fucking arrogant. You think I want to be your girlfriend or something?”

Jaw clenched, Derek rose from the floor to toss the bandage wrapper in the trash can. “I don’t care what you call yourself. Titles are irrelevant to what I want with you.”

Ginger stared at his retreating back, trying to stop his words from sinking in, from taking hold.
What I want with you.
Everything she thought she’d known an hour ago had been tossed out the window. He wanted more from her than a one-night stand, but what did
more
entail? A month? A year? Once it ended and he moved on, Ginger imagined it would be like taking the way his noncommunication had made her feel over one weekend and multiplying it by a hundred.

No, thank you.

One little problem remained, however.

She still wanted him.

Ginger watched Derek move around the kitchen, unstrapping his shoulder holster and removing his gun. Her heart kicked up the pace as he untucked his shirt, giving her a glimpse of his tight stomach. Oh God, she needed him
inside
her. Once hadn’t been nearly enough to extinguish the fires he’d stoked.

Could she have it both ways? Sex without commitment?
Men
were supposed to be the ones who wanted that, right? Perhaps as long as their relationship remained physical, Ginger could resist developing any kind of feelings for him. Eventually, she would work Derek out of her system for good. He’d probably need very little convincing to see things her way. She still wasn’t entirely convinced his guilt over taking her virginity didn’t drive the argument.

He just needs a little convincing that this relationship business isn’t necessary.

She tugged down the neckline of her top, then slipped off the table to sway toward Derek. His head whipped around, as if sensing the shift in her attitude, and watched her approach through wary eyes.

She paused in front of him, hoping the look she gave him was contrite. “I’m sorry, Derek. I don’t want to fight.” She ran a finger down the row of buttons on his shirt, playing with the final one against his lower stomach. “Not when we could be doing something else.”

When he could no longer resist looking down at her cleavage, Ginger felt a jolt of satisfaction at the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “I know what you’re doing. It’s not going to work.”

“What am I doing? Seducing you?” She reached down with one hand and undid the button on her black shorts, letting them slip down her legs to reveal her lacy pink underwear. “Is it working now?”

She watched him fight a losing battle to keep his eyes locked on hers. His hooded gaze traveled down her stomach, over her hips and legs, lingering on the triangle of lace between her thighs. His tortured groan shot heat straight to her core. “
Fuck,
baby.”

When he still didn’t reach for her, Ginger’s nimble fingers began working the buckle of his belt. She might be inexperienced, but she’d worked in a bar ever since she’d turned sixteen and lied about her age to get the job. You learned a thing or two about men when you spent your days and nights liquoring them up. Word on the street had always been that a man’s decisions were made with
this
head, not the one on top of his shoulders.

She listened to Derek’s breath accelerate as she unhooked the leather and slid it through the loops. It dropped to the floor with a
clack
.

Ginger looked up at him through her eyelashes, daring him to tell her not to continue. Apart from the roughening breath puffing against her forehead, Derek remained silent, his green eyes trained on her hands. She slid down the zipper of his pants. In the quiet kitchen, the zipping noise was amplified. It sounded terribly erotic to her ears.

“I’m trying really hard here,” he panted. “I won’t be able to stop soon.”

“Why would you stop? I don’t want you to.”