Then Comes Marriage (22 page)

She breaks free of my hold on her hands and puts one in my hair, curling her fist. The other lands on my back, holding me.

“Derek,” she pants and widens her legs. I move in, drawn to her in the worst and best way possible. She takes a tangle of my hair and guides my lips back to hers, kissing me with a desperation that matches my own. In a swift movement, I pick her up and hold her against the wall. Her legs go around me and my dick fights against the tight confines of my pants.
 

Lust drunk, we don’t even notice the elevator doors opening until they start to shut. Setting Rachel down is like ripping out my own heart and tossing it right there on the worn carpet.

What the fuck?
 

Her dress is twisted around her thighs, and she attempts to straighten it with one hand while digging in her purse for her room key. She holds it up when she finds it, flashing me a coy smile. I take her hand and we rush down the hall, both needing to pick up where we left off.

“I have to pee,” Rachel reminds me as soon as we get into the room.
 

“Oh, right.” I shut and lock the door behind us.

“I’ll be right out,” she says, words slurring just a bit. I blink in the dark, crossing the unfamiliar room to find the light on the bedside table. She stumbles as she hurries to the bathroom, and forgets to close the door at first.
 

Maybe she’s drunker than I thought, and I remember how just last night she said she wasn’t ready to sleep with anyone else yet. My will is weak, but my respect for Rachel is stronger.
 

I don’t want her to do anything she’ll regret in the morning. As much as I want to get her naked, to make love to her all night, losing myself in her completely…I want to make sure she’s into it with a sound mind.
 

The glass balcony doors protest against the wind and the rain. I stride over, seeing the ocean rage in a flash of lightning. The storm is right above us, as evidenced by the booming thunder.
 

The bathroom door opens. I turn around, heart skipping a beat when Rachel comes out. Her lips part and she exhales. Her cheeks are rosy from our makeout session in the elevator, looking exactly how I feel. Rachel comes over and wraps her arms around me. Her touch is even more intoxicating than the alcohol I just drank, and a hell of a lot more addictive. I don’t just want more, I need more.
 

Being with Rachel makes me feel alive.
 

“Rachel,” I pant but can’t get the words out because she puts her mouth to mine. She’s so fucking hot. My hands slide down her body and we stumble back until we fall onto the bed. I get between her legs, kissing her like it’s the only thing that matters.
 

And in a way, it is the only thing that matters.
 

I’m living in the moment, enjoying what’s right here, right now. And judging by the way Rachel is wrapping her legs around me, she’s enjoying it as well. She lets out another moan and widens her legs. I grind against her, feeling her heat.
 

I want to part her legs, to kiss my way down, and taste her.

She runs her hands down my chest and unbuttons my pants. I have every intention to stop her, to tell her we’ll resume in the morning when she’s sober. But when her fingers slip under the waistband of my boxers I’m a goner.

Thunder shakes the glass in the windows, and Rachel startles. The lights flicker and rain angrily slaps the balcony doors.
 

“Rachel,” I breath, resting my head against hers. “You’re drunk.”
 

“So are you.”
 

“I wouldn’t get in a car and drive,” I start, “but I’m not drunk.”

She curls her legs around me. “Good thing we’re not driving. Though, I do want to take you for a ride.”
 

Fuck. Me.
 

“Rachel,” I say again and I kinda can’t believe I’m doing this. “I don’t want you to regret this in the morning. It might seem like a good idea right now, but once the buzz wears off…”
 

She purses her lips, glaring at me. “Is this a nice way of saying you don’t want to have sex with me?”
 

“Fuck no. Rachel, you are the hottest woman I’ve ever been with and having sex with you is the only thing I want. No. No, it’s not. I meant what I said in the bar…I admire everything about you. So much so I don’t want you to wake up and be sorry.”
 

Her expression softens. “That’s…that’s really sweet. But I really want you. Give me a minute to sober up?”
 

“I think it’ll take you more than a minute.”
 

“If you’re as good as I think you are, it might not.”
 

Holy fuck, Rachel. Stop. Please stop. Because I can’t resist you for much longer. She bites her lip and rakes her nails up my back. “You are not making this easy.”
 

“I’m well aware how
hard
this is,” she whispers in my ear. Okay, all bets are off. I dive down on her, lips crashing against hers. I flip her over, bringing her onto my chest, and hold her tight while I catch my breath.
 

“Your heart is beating so fast,” she says, pressing her ear to me. “Mine is too.” She gently runs her fingers down the middle of my chest, going down along my abs, stopping an inch above my dick. I ache for her touch, desperate for a release, to be inside of her, feeling her around me.
 

I swallow hard and slowly inhale, tipping my head down to look at Rachel. Her hair is in her eyes, and I brush it back.
 

“I’m glad you’re here,” she mumbles. “Even if you didn’t want to go away from work.”
 

How does she know I didn’t want to come? “Me too,” I say back. “You have no idea,” I add. A few beats pass and she doesn’t respond. “Rach?” I whisper.

Carefully I sit up and see that she’s asleep. I kiss her forehead then slide out from under her. She’s still wearing her heels, and I doubt she wants to sleep in those. I take them off, and then lay back down next to her, spooning by body around hers.
 

The storm rages outside, but in here, in this bed, I’m finally at peace.
 

~*~

My ringing phone wakes me up early the next morning. I blink awake, arms still wrapped around Rachel, and let the call go to voicemail. A few seconds pass and then my phone rings again. Rachel stirs slightly in her sleep, and I wonder if she’s a heavy sleeper all the time or if the amount of alcohol she consumed the night before has anything to do with it.
 

A text message comes through followed by a voicemail, and I’m sure it’s my mother asking me where I am. You’d think after thirty-one years she’d stop worrying, stop wondering. Becoming a cop only amplified that worry, and after my dad died, she had to focus her anxiety elsewhere.
 

Though something tells me she’s not calling to inquire about my wellbeing right now. She knows I was with Rachel last night. She knows I’m still with her. And she’s checking in on us, probably hoping to invite us to breakfast again so she can play matchmaker.
 

Rachel rolls over, embracing me in her sleep. She looks so peaceful, so innocent when she sleeps. I close my eyes and snuggle back down next to her, and am almost asleep when her phone vibrates on the nightstand. She starts to stir, so I reach over and grab it. She has a text message from Lauren.

Did your sexy stalker murder you? I haven’t heard from you in 24 hrs! Tell me you’re alive!
 

I smile, not sure if I should be happy she called me ‘sexy’ or concerned she told her friend I was a stalker.
 

I set the phone down on the bed where the vibrating won’t be so loud. I’m tired, but need to get up and pee. I get up as quietly as possible, making it out of bed and into the bathroom without waking Rachel. But moments after I get back into bed her eyes flutter open.
 

“Morning,” she says quietly. She rolls over and puts one arm around me. “What time is it?”
 

“Seven-thirty, give or take a couple of hours.”
 

She laughs and pulls me to her. “I’m still tired. I don’t want to get up yet.”
 

“Then don’t,” I say and flip her over so she’s resting on top of me. “Go back to sleep.”
 

“But the Road to Hana trip is today. Though it’s tempting to stay here, like this, all day. After I shower, because I probably have mascara on my face, don’t I?”
 

“Eh, just a little. You don’t look like Alice Cooper or anything.”
 

“Thank god for that. Unless you’re into it.”
 

I shake my head. “I’m into a few weird things, but not Alice Cooper role play.”
 

“Thank you, Derek, for last night.”
 

My heart is back in my throat, and I’m almost embarrassed. “You remember everything?”
 

“I wasn’t
that
drunk,” she reminds me. “What you did, or didn’t do…not a lot of guys would do that, and that’s…that’s pretty damn sexy, if you ask me.”
 

“Not having sex with you is sexy?” I raise my eyebrows. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
 

“Ha-ha, and yes and no. I was drunk and not in the best decision-making state of mind. Thank you again.”
 

“You shouldn’t have to thank me for not taking advantage of you when you were drunk,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s called being a decent human being. I would hope all decent men would do the same.”
 

“Well, there aren’t a whole lot of those left, you know. You’re a rare find, Derek Turner.”
 
Her eyes meet mine and something passes between us.
 

It’s not love, but it’s more than lust. A promise, perhaps? A promise that whatever this is, whatever we’re doing, could lead to something.
 

Problem is, I have no idea what that could be.
 

~*~

“It’s like we’re in a jungle,” Rachel says as she takes in our surroundings. We’re standing on a dirt path on the Waikamoi Nature Trail, mile marker #9.5 on the Road to Hana. Having got a late start to the day, we quickly showered, got dressed, and at breakfast on the go.

“We are in a jungle,” I say dryly.

“Shut up. You know what I mean. It’s like a wild jungle.”
 

“Wild jungle?”
 

Rachel holds out her phone, taking pictures. Her hair is up in a messy bun, and she’s wearing a blue and white dress with matching jewelry. She’s flawless.

“Yeah, like we’re miles from civilization, chasing after a cursed treasure. We’re running from bounty hunters and dodged inside the dense jungle to get out of the sun and to throw off our scent for the hounds.”
 

“And I’m a wanted man to start with, but the reward for my body—dead or alive—has doubled since I ran away with the King’s daughter. They think I kidnapped you, but we’re madly in love and ran away to be together.”
 

“Ohhh yes. You’re a handsome foreigner too. Which is very taboo to my proper family.” She takes my hand and pulls me next to her, taking selfies of the two of us. “We met at a market where you posed as a trader, but really you’re a pirate. But please don’t make any pirate booty jokes.”
 

“I’ll restrain myself.”
 

Holding my hand, she takes a few steps forward down the path. I come to a standstill and pull her to me.
 

“What?” she asks.

“Shh! The bounty hunters are out there, coming after us. Though I should warn you, what they said about me is right: I am a dangerous man.” I pick Rachel up and toss her over my shoulder, and Rachel lets out a playful yell when I take off in the opposite direction than we were going. “I’m taking you back to whatever pirate-island I came from.”
 

Rachel laughs. “Pirate-island?”

I stop, and carefully place her on her feet. Our arms stay around each other, and while she’s just looking at me, making proper eye contact as she speaks, it feels like she’s looking through me, seeing something deeper. It’s unnerving and hot at the same time.

“Yeah, I was going say it’s like Neverland but that sounds unappealing now that I’m saying it out loud.”
 

“Well, wherever you take me, Captain Turner, just make sure it’s far away from my father. He’ll do anything to separate us.”
 

“Right. Because you’ve been promised to the General of his army.”
 

“Ohhh, yes. I like this. And we’re having a secret baby, which is the real reason for us running away. You knocked me up and Daddy will have you hanged for it.”
 

Suddenly, the game stops being fun at the mention of pregnancy and babies. My mind flashes to Deirdre telling me that I’m going to be a father, and I swear Ben’s cries echo off the bamboo trees that surround us. I let go of Rachel’s hand, heart in my throat.

“Derek?” Her brow furrows. “I got too carried away, didn’t I?” She looks down, embarrassed and ashamed, the same look she gets when she’s talked about her ex before. I don’t ever want to make her feel that way. She’s too beautiful, inside and out, to have that look of anguish on her face.

“No,” I tell her. “You didn’t.”
 

“Then why did you shut down like someone hit the power button on Robo-Cop?”
 

“No reason,” I say and grab her hand again.
 

“I don’t believe that for a second. But you have no obligation to tell me.”
 

I never want to talk about what happened, yet I feel compelled to open up to Rachel. If I could trust cracking open my heart to anyone, it’s her…and I don’t know why. In the short time we’ve been together, I feel like I’ve gotten to know her on a deeper level.
 

“But if you don’t tell me,” she starts, “I’m going to make up something to explain it to myself. And this brain of mine is all sorts of messed up.”