Protecting What's His (18 page)

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Authors: Tessa Bailey

Tags: #detective, #cop, #tessa bailey, #Nashville, #humor, #chicago, #bartender, #seduction, #Contemporary, #entangled, #sex, #Romance, #erotic, #dominant, #teen, #dom, #brazen, #sexy, #crime, #protecting whats his, #bad boy

BOOK: Protecting What's His
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“Presently, I have Mr. Faircourt locked up on racketeering charges in Chicago,” Derek said. “He was more than happy to cut a deal for less prison time in exchange for information about that little warehouse fire in Nashville about eight years back. The one for which you received the huge insurance settlement. Opened your first strip club with that money, didn’t you, Mr. Devon?”

“You’re lying. He wouldn’t talk.”

“I can be very persuasive. Nashville PD was more than happy to assist me today in exchange for the information, seeing as how you’ve been a thorn in their side for years. Boys?”

Ginger heard the shuffling of feet, some muffled curses, and a struggle, followed by the metallic sound of handcuffs sliding and locking.

A minute later, the trunk popped opened. She stared up into Derek’s hard expression and burst into tears. Behind him, several officers marched Haywood and Winston toward a police cruiser. Derek yanked the gag out of her mouth and helped her sit up, turning her face to survey the cut on her cheek.

“Which one of them did this?”

Ginger gulped. He sounded so cold. His touch felt completely devoid of affection. “H-Haywood.”

Derek flipped the gun in his hand and strode toward the cruiser, barking at the officers to wait. Before she could scream for him to stop, he brought the butt of the weapon down on Haywood’s skull. The man crumpled to the ground, still handcuffed.

“Now, I hardly see how that was necessary, Lieutenant,” an older officer drawled, but his smirk suggested he wasn’t overly upset over Haywood’s injury.

Ignoring the reprimand, Derek returned to the trunk and slid both arms under Ginger to lift her from the interior. She curled into his hard chest with a sob.

His face devoid of emotion, he placed her in the passenger seat of his SUV, then produced a pocket knife and cut her bonds.

Ginger tried to meet his eyes, but he wouldn’t look at her. “Derek—”

“Not a fucking word.”

She flinched, sinking back into the seat. It was going to be a long ride back to Chicago.

Chapter Twenty-Five

They rode in silence for an hour, Ginger alternating between contrite and indignant. She wanted to explain her actions to Derek but he stared straight ahead, a muscle ticking ominously in his jaw, effectively preventing conversation. With a sigh, she dug her phone out of her pocket, which Derek had graciously allowed her to retrieve from the truck, and began listening to the numerous voice mails left since yesterday evening.

After 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 fuck. 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.”

Ginger blinked back tears. “I’ll be home soon. I want to hear all about the dance.”

“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?

“Take off your clothes,” he directed without turning around.

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.”

A tortured groan echoed through the bathroom. “
No
, Ginger. You don’t know what I’m capable of right now.”

“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?”

“I saw your face in the car, Ginger.” His voice sounded low, furious. “When you heard that message. You looked terrified.”

She shook her head in denial. “No, I—”


Yes
. So you know what your punishment is going to be, sweetheart? I’m going to make
love
to you. Slowly. Hell, it might take me until tomorrow. I’m going to lose count of how many times you come. And every time you do, I’m going to tell you that I love you. Until you fucking get used to it.”

Tears burned behind her eyes. God, he sounded so hurt. She turned to face him. “Derek, listen to me—”

“No.” His throat worked with emotion. “You’re not going to cry your way out of this.”

Ginger knew then she wouldn’t get through to him with words, only actions. They’d admitted to being physical people since the beginning. Only her body could persuade him to listen. As the water pounded around them, she put her hands on either side of his face and stared deep into his eyes. She stretched up to place her mouth on his and felt a stab of pain in her chest when he flinched.

Garnering her courage, she poured every ounce of love she held for him into the kiss. She apologized with her mouth for making him scared. She praised him for saving her life. Her hands stroked his face and neck, dipping down to his shoulders to pull him closer. Derek’s arousal pulsed hard and thick between them, but she didn’t reach for it like she wanted to, worried he might mistake her meaning. The kiss represented love and she needed him to understand that.

Derek pulled away to scrutinize her face. “Ginger?”

Tears mixing with spray from the shower, she nodded. “I love you, too.”

His eyes squeezed shut. Banding her arms around his waist, she buried her face against his skin and repeated the words over and over again, willing him to believe her.

She heard the shower turn off. Then Derek lifted her in his arms and carried her out of the bathroom. Laying her down, still soaking wet, on the pillows of the bed, Derek sat heavily with his back to her and buried his head in his hands. Propping herself up on her elbow, she waited without breathing.

When he finally spoke, his voice sounded hoarse. “When I turned the corner into your mother’s driveway, all I saw was that man tossing you into the trunk and slamming the lid. I couldn’t tell if you were alive or…” Ginger scrambled onto her knees, wrapping herself around him from behind. “When I heard you yelling and kicking, I think it might have been the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.”

Ginger pressed her face into his damp neck. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I scared you.”

Derek remained quiet for a moment. “I know I’m overprotective, but there’s a good reason for it. I see a lot of terrible things in my job, Ginger. Murders. The entire drive to Nashville, I couldn’t stop picturing your face on every single one…”

She climbed around him and onto his lap, forcing him to look at her. “Stop. Don’t think about it anymore. I’m right here. I’ll never do anything like that again.”

“You’re goddamn right you won’t.”

His gruffness made her smile, but it wavered under the importance of her next question. “And about taking that money…you don’t think less of me for that?”

Derek was already shaking his head. “Never. Especially after seeing where you grew up. And meeting Valerie.”

She bit her lip. “I suppose the worst way to introduce your boyfriend to your mother is from inside a trunk.”

“Please. I’m not ready to think about that again.” Uncertain eyes searched hers. “When you heard the voice mail…that look on your face…”

“Oh.” She blew out a shaky breath and tried to climb off his lap. Derek merely tightened his hold. “I thought maybe after what I’d done, you would change your mind. Decide I was too much trouble.”

Before the words were out of her mouth, Ginger found herself flat on her back with Derek looming above her. “Change my mind?” He sounded incredulous. “Ginger, I don’t want to encourage you to attempt anything like this ever again, let me make that
abundantly
clear. But I would come after you every time.
Every
.
Time
.”

Ginger laughed through her tears, but it turned into a moan when Derek parted her thighs and thrust deep inside her, holding her still against the mattress.

“Look at me. You own me. I’m
owned
.” He shifted his hips, making her whimper. “You own this, too.”

She moved restlessly beneath him. “Oh, Derek…please.”

Leaning down, he kissed her lips sweetly. “Easy, baby. I meant what I said. I want to make love to you. Let me, beautiful girl.”

Entwining his fingers with hers, Derek started to move.

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