He waded closer to her. Reaching out, he trailed his fingers over her shoulder, relishing her damp, warm flesh.
"What time do you get off?" he asked, unable to keep the gruffness from his voice.
"Um, eleven thirty."
"I could come by your place."
He shouldn't be doing this. Helping her paint her house in broad daylight was one thing, but visiting her late at night was something else completely. This was crazy, reckless. But he couldn't contain his need for her anymore. One night with Hannah wasn't enough. As much as they both denied it, there was a fire between them that defied logic. And judging by the way she'd kissed him on the back porch, she felt it too.
She looked startled. "At midnight?"
"Why not? I don't have to get up early for anything."
He thought she'd shake her head right away, but instead a small, doubtful frown settled on her forehead. His optimism rose.
"I don't have much energy after finishing late," she said.
"That's okay," he said. "I'll provide all the energy."
"When I get home I like to watch TV and just chill out."
"Sounds good to me. We can just chill out or whatever."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Whatever?"
"Yeah." Whatever covered a lot of ground. He cupped his fingers under her chin to tip up her face. He wanted her to know how much he craved spending another night with her, but also that she had the final say. He brushed his thumb across her lower lip, greedy to touch her, and felt an answering shudder run through her. "It's completely up to you, babe. You're in charge here."
Her tongue darted out to lick his thumb before she drew out of reach. "Whatever, huh?"
"That's right." His voice was hoarse. He was practically begging for her permission. He just hoped she was thinking the same "whatever" he was.
She screwed up her eyes at him, and then, without warning, she splashed some water at him. "Okay, come over and watch TV tonight," she said, breezy and offhand. As she turned and began heading back to shore, she added over her shoulder, "Or whatever."
God, he never knew Hannah could be such a tease. And such a turn on.
He wiped his face and surged through the water after her. She picked up her pace, leaped out of the water, and ran up the beach to their pile of clothing. By the time he caught up with her, he was breathing deep, though not from the physical exertion.
Derek pressed a hand to his knee to stop it from jiggling. He snuck another look at the clock above his granddad's television set. It was only nine o'clock. Another three hours to kill. How was he going to make it? He shifted his feet again, dragging them against the carpet.
"Something wrong with you?" Otto muttered from his nearby armchair. "You got ants in your pants or something?"
Derek started. "Nothing." He tried to settle his limbs, but the restless itch in them quickly became unbearable.
His grandpa sighed. "Why don't you go down to Jimmy's? It's a Friday night, plenty of young people there."
Derek shook his head. "I'm not in the mood." Tonight there was only one thing on his mind.
Otto cleared his throat. "I'll call you if I have any problems."
Derek blinked at his granddad. "You promise?"
Otto's brow furrowed. "I just said I would, didn't I?"
"That's good to know, but I think I'll hang around here for a while."
His grandfather shrugged and turned his attention back to the television, where Doomsday Preppers had just come on. Derek rested his head on the couch and gazed up at the ceiling.
"You like her, don't you?" Otto said when the ads came on.
Derek looked up. "Huh?"
"That Willmett girl. You like her."
Jeez, this was the first time his granddad had ever brought up the subject of girls. "Yeah, I like her." No point hiding that.
He waited for Otto to say something more, but the old man just stared at an ad for fried chicken, and then the show came back on.
"Hope you're using protection," Otto muttered, eyes still glued to the TV screen.
"Huh?" Derek jerked upright.
"You heard me. Don't want any little surprises down the road."
What the hell? Was that the extent of his granddad's relationship advice? Practice safe sex? Well, maybe that was all Otto knew about relationships, and at least he was showing an interest in Derek. Maybe this was his granddad's way of demonstrating that he cared.
"I'll keep that in mind," Derek muttered.
Chapter Ten
The headlights of Hannah's car pierced the night, picking out the quiet streets of her neighborhood. As she pulled into the driveway of her dad's house, she couldn't ignore the quick thrum of her pulse. It had been there all through her evening shift, that undercurrent of tension and excitement running through her veins, making her feel like she'd gulped a strong cocktail. Like the mojitos she'd downed the night she'd fallen into bed with Derek.
She turned off the ignition, cut the lights, grabbed her bag, and hopped out of the car. The house cast a deep shadow over the driveway, and she'd forgotten to leave the porch light on. A light breeze rustled the nearby bushes. She spun around, nerves vibrating, just as a tall, instantly recognizable figure walked up the driveway toward her.
"Hannah," Derek murmured.
Relief and gladness flooded her, forcing her to admit that yes, all night she'd been looking forward to seeing him again. "Hi."
He paused in front of her, shadows swathing his face. "Long shift?"
Long and tiring, but her tiredness lifted as she breathed in his scent on the warm night air. She nodded. "Coming inside?"
He nodded, and they walked up the porch stairs side by side. They'd barely spoken except for a few mundane words, but there was nothing ordinary about the tension fluctuating between them, alive as an electric current.
She opened the door and moved into the living room. Diffused lamplight from the adjoining dining room spilled in. She hoped the light flattered her. Her hair was messily tied up with an elastic band, and her lavender scrubs weren't exactly stylish.
"I've been waiting all night for you," Derek murmured.
God, he knew just the right thing to say to undo the last of her reservations. She gulped, licked her lips, nervous anticipation swirling into a knot beneath her ribs.
She tilted her head at the TV. "So, there's a late night movie on."
"What's it about?" His hungry eyes never left her.
"I think it's some B-grade horror movie."
"I prefer whatever."
His smile curled through her, trebling her excitement. How incredible that a man as sexy as Derek could look at her with such burning, clothes-ripping intensity.
"What kind of whatever is that?" she managed to get out.
"I'll show you."
He reached for her, his hands pulling the elastic band to free her hair before he delved his fingers through her locks, loosening the strands and fluffing them about her face. Sliding his fingers around the curve of her cheeks, he tilted up her face and lowered his lips to hers in a sweet, slow kiss.
She sank into his kiss, letting go of her final hesitation. She'd struggled hard to do the right thing, but Derek was too much temptation. Over the past few days she'd stopped viewing him as a teenager and seen the man he had become. He was generous and sensitive, with a cheeky sense of humor, and he could make her excited just by walking into a room. And the fact that he found her such a turn on aroused her even more. She wanted him so badly, so passionately, that she was willing to take this risk. Caleb was out of town, she had the house to herself. Take this night, her body urged her. Take this and savor it.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she poured all her emotion into her kiss until he broke off, breathless and laughing softly.
"Hey, what's your hurry? We have all night."
She ran her hands over his torso. Beneath his shirt his chest muscles were hard and taut. "How do you know that? I might change my mind at any minute," she teased him.
"The hell you will." His hands clamped on her hips as his growl sent a delicious thrill through her.
He backed her up until she toppled over onto the couch, and he went with her, kissing her like he'd just broken out of prison. All the while, his hands were busy, roaming over her lavender top until he found the side drawstring and loosened the material. His hands slipped under the hem, and she gasped into his mouth at the incredible feel of his palms coasting slowly over her stomach.
Derek wrestled with her top, but there wasn't enough space on the couch.
"Hold on," he muttered, sliding his hands beneath her.
He lifted her up and eased her onto the rug. A second later, he pulled off her top, and she was hyperventilating. She pulled the shirt from his shoulders. Sensing her urgency, he helped her shrug off his shirt. As he tossed the shirt on the couch, several small packets fell out of the pocket.
"Condoms," he muttered.
She glanced at the pile of foil packets then back at Derek. "You'd better hurry up and put one of them on."