What’s New Pussycat(74)

“No. I will not watch one more episode of Ice Road Truckers with you,” she said with a giggle.

“Why won’t you love Ice Road Truckers?” he asked between kisses.

She shrugged her shoulders, letting him pull her inside. “Why won’t you love The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills?”

“Because it’s not filmed on ice?”

Martine’s head fell back on her shoulders when she laughed. “Fine. You keep your truckers and I’ll keep my backstabbers.”

As he peeled off her jacket, letting it fall to the floor, he kicked the door shut with his foot before setting her away from him, his beautiful eyes serious. “You know what I want to know, Pussycat. It was part of the deal.”

Her pulse raced in tune with her heart as she looked up at him and smiled, hot tears pushing at the corners of her eyes. “I think you know the answer to that, Farm Boy.”

“Then say it. So I can hear it. So it’s out in the universe and you can’t take it back.”

Her breath caught in her throat as the most amazing man she’d ever met waited for an answer.

Taking his hand, she pressed it to her cheek. “Yes.”

Derrick grinned, dragging his T-shirt over his head. “Good. Now, clothes? Off. All of them. It’s been all I could do not to devour you all week long. One more make-out session in that barn and I was going to have to start showering in some damn ice.”

Kicking off her boots, Martine pulled her sweater over her head and had her jeans off in record time. Completely naked, she held her hand out to him. “Then follow me to the death-sex chamber, where lives are saved with just one mating.”

Derrick barked a laugh behind her, following until they rounded the corner to his bedroom where she stopped short, catching her breath.

“Oh,” she breathed, turning to look up at him. “Did you…?”

There were candles in every shape and size scattered everywhere, leaving the smell of mint and pear in the air, two of her favorite scents. The room glowed soft amber, the flickering light making shapes on the walls.

And butterflies—paper butterflies glided in circles, floating on red and gold wings, soaring high then darting back into formation.

Derrick caught one of the paper butterflies mid-air in his hand and gave it to her. “Well, your mother made them fly with her hocus-pocus, but I cut them out.” He held up a bandaged finger. “See?”

Her knees melted, her heart clenched. “For me?”

Derrick slipped his arms around her waist from behind and nuzzled her neck. “Your mom said when you were little you loved them. I thought it would bring back a happy memory. I want you to have happy memories, Martine. I know there aren’t many, but we’ll make some now. Lots of them. You, me, your mom, my family, our family.”

Tears slipped down her face when she turned in his arms. No one had ever done something like this for her before. She’d never let anyone cherish her enough to allow for it.

But that would all change tonight.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

Derrick’s hands cupped Martine’s breasts and she purred, arching as his solid chest warmed her.

Her arms wound around his neck as he walked her toward the bed. His cock, stiff and hot, pressed against her thigh when he pushed her down, falling on top of her, letting their bodies touch for the first time in well over a week.

Martine hummed her satisfaction as their flesh met, sighing when Derrick’s hand, broad and hard, slid between her thighs, dipping into her already wet flesh. A ripple of pleasure shuddered over her sensitive skin, on fire with his touch, desperate with pent-up need.

His lips found her ear, nibbling it, rimming the shell with his tongue. “Christ, I missed you.”

Martine arched, letting her hips roll against the pleasure his hand wrought. “I missed you, too. So, so much.”

His thumb found her clit and began to roll it gently to a swollen nub, sending pulses of heat throughout her body. Martine’s hands found his hair and she clenched it, gripping the thick locks as he spread her wet flesh wider and his mouth found hers.

Suckling her tongue, he kissed her, deepening it with each stroke of his hand, stealing her breath, creating a storm of fire in her veins.

Tearing his lips from hers, Derrick wrapped her hair around his wrist and pulled her head back to expose her neck. He seared a path of tongue and lips over the long column and ended at her nipple, letting his hot breath linger before placing his mouth over it and inhaling.

Martine squirmed against him, pressing her breast farther into his mouth as he took long licks of her nipple. With trembling fingers, she reached between them, finding his cock and gripping it with a fevered caress, stroking it so he rocked into the tunnel her fist created.