Original; 1906 words, 4pgs :(
New; 5734 words, 12 pages?! :D
This is not completely edited, but I'm excited to post the first revised chapter. Although I am typing this with a straight face, believe me I am ecstatic. I have realized my improvement since two years ago. I am very pleased. And embarrassed at the same time for the original. Also, I do not know the next expected update, so...
Remember that little talk about raising the rating yadda yadda and more mature content?
Not exactly a ton or practically any language, but um… there's that other thing.
I have no idea what you would consider mild or too much because some of us can read hard-core porn and not bat an eyelash, but you should be able to tell when it *gasp* starts. To some it could, "Make you feel like a cat on a hot tin roof."
YOU ARE NOW FOREWARNED
Enjoy;)
"Seriously?!" My shrill scream resonated through the car followed by the thump of pounding on the steering wheel. The scene of the beat down, yet still functional, gas station five miles back seemed to taunt me. I would have much rather been pumping liquid gold at the setting of a horror movie in a nearly microscopic town, than surrounded by trees, deep in the woods. The dark figures loomed over my sputtered out car, encasing me for as far as I could see in the ebony night. Even the moon seemed afraid of the threatening trees, refusing to even break a sliver through the trees. The only light being from my car's two headlights. One of which flickered helplessly, most likely to go out in the next ten minutes. Then I would be left with only one light beam, and one more chill of terror.
I glanced between each wall of trunks, my eyes barely keeping to adjust to the darkness surrounding me. The thought of ghost stories I had heard in my youth from older kids on the playground prompted me to roll the inch-crack of the window up and lock all doors twice.
My own imagination began to work against me, procuring nightmares of figures varying in size and scraping on my windows. I tremored in the cooling upholstered seat. My trembling fingers reached for my phone tucked into the cup holder. I pressed the button excessively trying to turn it on, but the damn piece of electronic shit refused to help me out. Fear pulled me deeper into its grasp, tears pooling in my eyes. I was going to have to walk.
The thought of trying to hitch-hike and being gruesomely murdered weighed heavily in my subconscious. My clearly loved and worn, brown messenger bag sat slumped on the passenger seat, various shapes of objects protruding out of the fabric. I pulled it over the middle console, its weight taking effort to lift. I lifted the flap sifting through sketchbooks and pencils, coming to a tiny zip pocket in the back. With a slow draw, the zipper ran clear through the car, possibly the surrounding woods. I probed deeply in the deep pocket, pushing aside personal items and lipsticks. My fingers curled around a cylinder, pulling it into the shine of my prius's interior lights. The lettering of the label was worn away from erosion of candy and tissues, but the curve of a red pepper could be identified.
I pulled my keys from the ignition, immediately turning off the single headlight and setting off my heart beat. A flashlight was fished from the glove compartment, smacked on, and held in my mouth. I shoved my phone deep in my bag, the charger separated by nearly a hundred miles in a moving van, packed neatly in a cardboard box. How responsible of me.
Under the small beam of light I shook the small can. The sound of liquid sloshing calmed an inch of my fears. The other ten feet were rooted in place as I pushed the car door open. I slipped my bag across my body. My left hand held tightly to the tiny flashlight and my right cautiously gripped the can of pepper spray, careful not to attack myself. I jumped, scaring myself after I pressed the lock button on the key fob. A beep-beep was sent echoing into the woods that seemed to get darker.
With trembling steps I walked nearly four feet from the hood of my car before hearing the purr of an engine. I turned my head just in time to catch headlights flash by me. The driver speeding excessively, letting me only make out the car was black. As the car passed nearly fifty yards away from me, my hope was diminishing. That was all it took for me to let the withheld tears dribble down my cheeks. I stopped my tremble march and sank to my knees on the cold asphalt. My slow trickle of tears became sobs. I clutched my bag and weapons closer to my chest. It offered me little comfort. The woods seemed to encase the road for more than a mile.
All I wanted to do was return home, return to my nice warm home and be safely in my mother's arms. The woods seemed to grow a few degrees cooler. Faintly, rustling leaves could be made out and heavy breath. I looked to the source of the noise, blindly searching the wall to my right. The screech of tires moved my attention from potential doom to the road ahead of me.
The black car came barreling back down the road, stopping ten feet away from me. The windshield was black, obstructing view of the driver or any passengers. The rustling ceased only to be replaced with the sound of a clean engine. My flashlight moved to point at the liscense plate of the car. Its California license plate and county sticker showed the driver, or at least the car, was from around here.
Not being very good with cars, the only indication of what model of the car was illustrated by a Chevy logo above the grill.
A click of a door persuaded my attention to the driver stepping from the car. The driver stood to its full height. Based on its height and build, the driver was a man. He was dressed down compared to my jeans and jacket. He wore only jeans and short sleeve T-shirt, even though his breath could be made out in light puffs of visible air.
He began to walk towards me, his boots echoing against the cold pavement I was still knelt against. The man stepped in front of his headlights, his silhouette forming around him. His face was the only part of his body masked. The rest was proudly displayed. The T-shirt was a dark gray, stretched snug over a wide chest and suffocating bulging arms. Strong legs could be made from the dark jeans, flexed with every step he took. Above his head, black hair showed, neat and spiky in nature, but not appearing stiffly gelled, still soft.
He stepped closer and closer to me until he was close enough for me to tilt my head up to his impressive height. I shakily stood, coming up to his chest and finally getting a view of his face. I suddenly lost my breath at the sight of his strong jawline scruffed with stubble, outlining lips halfway between full and thin and a few pinker shades than his skin. My eyes trailed up from his lips to his sharp nose with a slight bend in the middle, situated between two piercing hazel eyes. Thick, dark eyebrows framed his entrancing eyes, making his demeanor appear gloomy and dark.
A sudden breeze kicked around me sending my hair into my eyes and obstructing view of the ruggedly handsome man. I calmed my hair immediately, watching as his nostrils flared, an audible intake of breath produced. His head tilted slowly back, eyes slowly rolling back into his head. It lasted nearly a second, before he regained his previous posture, his eyes icier and bluer this time.
He still had not spoken a word, yet I could tell his voice would be deep. My eyes followed his adam's apple bob with a swallow. The man appeared my age or possibly older. He seemed to be studying me also.
"My...My car ran out of g-gas," I managed to stutter out after a few minutes of staring. He met my eyes, a warm feeling beginning at the pit of my stomach.
He still said nothing.
"Um, that one," I pointed behind me to the prius that seemed even more dwarfed and dinky compared to his car. He acknowledged the car with a nod. His face an unchanging blank slate.
A let a slow steady breath leave my lips, an action he followed.
"Do you mind taking me somewhere...I could pay you, I promise. Gas money, perhaps, since ironically I do not have any gas. In my car. Over there. Behind me." I filled the air with awkward tension.
He nodded once and turned on his heel, heading back to his car. I followed silently behind him to the passenger door. With a look around the ominous woods, I wondered what this stranger could possibly do to me. Was I the new inspiration for a horror film 'based on a true story'? My shoulders sagged, and I took my chances. I quickly opened the door and stepped into the car.
The interior of the car most likely was better than the outside. Black leather seating meet my jean-clad legs and sleek paneling on the door and other parts met my touch. The man revved the engine once before departing from my little prius.
I noticed he clutched the steering wheel tightly, bones more pronounced, and his knuckles white. The chill of the car and almost being stranded in a dark woods suddenly got to me. Forgetting my manners I reached for buttons to turn on the heat. My slight shivering must have hinted I was cold to him too. He reached for the buttons as I did. Our fingertips touched for a millisecond, barely full touching, but long enough for a shock to send. It was a small shock, like when you shuffle your socks on carpet then touch someone else.
In one quick movement, the man removed his hand from mine and slammed on the brakes. The seat belt catching me quickly. Fear suddenly clutched my heart, the beating coming quicker and my breathing speeding up. Had I made him angry? I should have asked.
A low growl came from him. I turned to look at him. His eyes were tightly closed and his grip on the wheel tightened if possible, dents starting to form beneath his fingers. His lips were parted and clenched white teeth could be seen. His whole body was tensed, muscles bunching and enlarging. I watched mesmerized yet frightened.
"Are you alright?" I softly touched his forearm. The static did not hit again, but my mere touch set him off. My eyes closed and heart pounded out of my chest. I expected a swing or blow. A possible head smashing on the window, anything.
Two calloused hands held the sides of my face before pulling me forward. Surprised, I opened my eyes to see his eyes an electric blue before they closed and I was brought closer. With a bruising force my lips met those thin yet full lips.
The shock returned, separating us for a second. I looked into his eyes as he looked into mine, before they were both closed and the bruising kiss resumed.
My fingers found their way to his soft hair, exactly how it looked. I massaged his scalp as our lips moved together in an enticing dance. One of my hands slipped down to his chest, my fingers tracing the broad and solid muscles underneath the soft fabric. My touch sent a deep groan off in him. His hand fisted in my hair, the other firmly grasped my waist. He tugged me closer. I slid over the console and onto his lap, straddling either side of the man I just met.
The small space between him and the steering wheel pressed me closer to him. Chest to chest and my core meeting the bulge in his pants. I moaned the same time he did, our tongues now getting acquainted with each other. We paused a moment, he unzipped and removed my jacket tossing it behind him. I was left in a tight blue tank top. His eyes focused on my cleavage before his mouth pressed hotly against my left breast. I gripped his hair tighter and ground my hips into his, needing friction from his jeans and my jeans combined.
He moved onto my right breast, sucking enough for hickies to bruise already. Our heavy breathing caused the windows to fog within minutes. The still unknown man kissed and licked his way up the column of my neck. Our lips met again, more fervent this time. my body was an inferno and I pressed myself closer to the man. He grasped both of my ass cheeks. He squeezed them tightly at the same time grinding them harder and faster against himself. A loud moan tore from me as he thrusted slightly against me.
"Yes...harder," I begged my head thrown back in ecstasy. A majority of our clothes were still on, yet the pleasure was greater than anything I had felt without clothes on.
He pressed my hips closer to him and thrusted harder. I felt his quivering muscles beneath me and became more turned on if possible.
A sudden honk of a horn behind us caused me to jump and hit my head on the roof of the car. The man wiped away some condensation on the windows in time for a blue jeep to speed past us, horn still blaring.
An ice bucket seemed to be thrown over us. I untangle myself from the still stranger and climbed back over the console, settling into the cold passenger seat. The man regained himself enough to wipe the fog off the windshield and put the car in gear.
He seemed uncomfortable now, a hand fixing himself through nearly bursting jeans. I suddenly thought of helping him perhaps, the image of road head causing my cheeks to flush. He cleared his throat twice before I realized I was still staring at his junk, clearly not helping him lessen the strain.
"Where did you say you needed to go?"
I was temporarily stalled at his husky and deep voice that I didn't answer his question until he asked a second time.
I slightly shook my head before reciting my old address, hoping he knew where it was without directions. I was still frazzled.
Slightly embarrassed by my previous actions, I stared out the window. Some landmarks were easily remembered and recognized. We were about fifteen minutes away from my house. I momentarily looked from the view to the man to see his knuckles resuming their tight grasp. His dark eyebrows though, were nearly raised into his hairline.
"Did you move here?" I faced him, his question nearly missed.
"Moving back actually," I whispered, "I'm coming home. I missed my family."
He nodded.
"Are you from around here?" My gaze went down to my tightly clenched hands.
"A few months ago, I moved back also."
I nodded and that was the end of the conversation for quite a bit. Near the middle of town he asked, "Where were you before you came back?"
I smiled, "art school. I'm talented with my hands I guess." A corner of his lips turned up, before returning to a flat line. "I was up north, past San Francisco. The city was beautiful, but I like small towns better. Why are you here, in Beacon Hills, of all places?"
He tensed slightly, almost unnoticeable. "Family matters," the man gruffed out.
And just like that, silence returned, creating a wall between us. My street came into view and leaving the mystery man, somewhat saddened me. He slowed to a stop in front of my house, putting the car in park and staring at the front door.
"Thank you so much." I breathed in relief, glad to even be outside of my house. The man responded with a slight nod. "Oh my goodness!" I suddenly yelled causing him to dart his eyes to me. "I never even told you my name! I'm Brooke, by the way. Brooke McCall."
His eyes slightly widened, "as in Scott McCall?"
I grinned, "Yeah, my little brother. Although I doubt he's little anymore, I was gone three years." A memory of my awkward little brother Scott comforted me, his hair shaggy and him tripping over his own two feet.
His face was stern and I felt the non-verbal invitation to get the hell out of his car. "Thank you…?"
"Derek Hale," He introduced, putting the car in reverse, his foot still on the brake. He was anxious to leave.
"Well, thank you Derek, I will have to return the favor. Do you mind if we swap numbers?" I smiled sweetly. I fished my phone from my bag that had laid crumbled in the footwell of the passenger seat. I pressed a different button on accident, and miraculously the electronic turned on. I wasn't sure if I was angry it didn't turn on or not.
We swapped phones and I tapped my number and name in. I passed his phone back lightly touching his hand. He quickly grasped my hand, holding me in place. My eyes met his and for the second time that night, I lost my breath. His middle finger traced lightly over the vein in my wrist. And for the second time that night, I was turned on.
"I'd like to see you again, Brooke," his voice caressed around me, nearly making me melt. "Likewise," I managed in a breathy whisper. He slowly let go of my hand and I swiftly stepped out of the car and shut the door. As soon as the door connected with the body of the car, Derek was off. I followed with my eyes as he drove down the street and turning from my sight.
I turned to my childhood home. It hadn't changed much in the last three years, Ivy still clung to the left side of the house, the brick still worn, and the paint on the porch peeling and leaving some patches bald. The house was dark except for a single window over the porch. Scott's room the last I remembered. Mom's car was nowhere in sight, meaning another late night at the hospital. I looked to the pavement beneath my feet. Dots of paint were still visible from one of the lemonade stands I had when I was eight or nine. That was the day a man tipped me ten dollars along with the twenty-five cent charge, just for telling him I promised I didn't spit in it.
Several tire skids ran between cement blocks of the sidewalk. One particular skid was long and dark, even back when it happened it was dark. I was five and little one year old Scott was learning to walk. As a five year old girl I coveted my sparkly lip glosses. I kept the possessions in a Barbie basket on the front of my bike, dearly cared for. Two days into the summer months, I was applying a watermelon- flavored number onto my lips using the handlebar mirror, the way I had seen mom do many times in her car. Just as I applied the gloss to nearly the entire lower part of my face, I slammed backwards on the brakes. I barely bumped the little road block known as Scottie who meandered in the middle of my way. But just this little bump, I kid you not, sent little twenty-five pound Scottie four feet from original position.
Mom was not happy. That was the first time Scott had to get stitches. And the first time I passed out from crying.
Thankfully the blood from many scrapes and cuts was washed away, not a stain in sight.
I walked toward the white porch. The wicker swing was swaying with the cooling breeze and the clatter of chains sounded through the night, only accompanied by cricket chirps. I slowly climbed the stairs, my hands holding the worn railing. Nostalgia ran over me while imagining sitting on this porch on warm summer nights, having long-ass talks with Scott. I approached the door. It had been repainted a few darker shades red than it originally was. I raised my hand, which seemed silly since I previously lived here. I'd given up my key three years previously, though. My curled fist fell down to my side, then reached for the brass door knob. The knob was swept from my grasp before I even touched it.
"Ah! Mutant!" I screamed and pointed to the hulking figure in the doorway of my beloved home. I looked up to the figure's face, easily a foot over my own. "Brooke? It's Scott?" The figure's face was better seen by the interior lights.
"No effing way," I squealed, "you hit puberty, really hard." I pulled my not-so-little brother into my embrace. He hugged me back with a strong grip. I parted from him, keeping him an arms length away. "Seriously though, I was gone three years and you grow two feet! Freaking unbelievable!" Scott grinned ear-to-ear, pulling me inside the house and shut the door behind us. "Well being gone three years and never visiting or even holidays, can definitely leave room for things to change."
I slightly deflated at his words, "Scott…" He shook his head, a grin still bright, "it's fine, honestly. A lot has changed 'round here, though." I dropped my bag by the door and slid my phone into my back pocket. "I'd love to hear all about it, but I'm exhausted, my car broke down So now all I want to do is sleep." I sighed, fatigue finally hitting me. My eyes seemed to weigh a ton and I fought to keep them open.
"So that's why I couldn't see your car! How'd you get here?" His eyebrows knit together in a puppy-like expression he seemed to have mastered when he was little.
"A...Friend?" Was Derek considered a friend? He could at least be portrayed as a friend, we did have a pretty heavy makeout and he sucked my boob. He's at least a friend.
"Oh, alright."
Scott didn't press the issue any further and I was thankful.
"Did Mom leave my room intact? Is it still sleepable in?" I yawned. My lower back seemed bruised from being thrusted against a steering wheel. My face flushed and I hope Scott had not caught it before I turned to face the stairs.
"Yeah." My footsteps echoed on the stairs, single and by themselves. I stopped and turned mid-staircase. "You coming?" I looked down at him. He was fully dressed, even shoes on his feet. "Or are ya goin' somewhere?"
He rubbed the back of his head. He cast his eyes to the floor, not meeting my eyes. "Spending the night at Stiles's." Scott's cheeks pinked, a nearly missed action, had I not lived with him for sixteen years I would have missed it.
"Stiles ever make you blush like that? I always thought there was a bromance between you two." My eyes narrowed at his awkward posture. Almost too awkward. Like he was purposefully acting nonchalant.
"Um, no."
"It's a girl isn't it? Oh my god it's a girl!" I giggled and clapped my hands. Then my grin vanished and I stared coldly at him. "And you're spending the night at this girl's house."
"It's not what you think."He tried to assure my with open arms, trying to reason with me. "Okay maybe it is," Scott admitted to my arched eyebrow. "But you can't condemn me. I know you weren't a sweet little, studying angel up there either." I sighed. The night clearly getting to me and coyly trying to avoid his true statement. My shoulders slumped and I caved. "Just please be careful? I don't need to be an aunt, yet."
"Oh my god!" He wailed. He turned to the door ready to leave before I stopped him. "Tell me all about this slumber-party-partner tomorrow, I'll take you to lunch tomorrow. I have things I want to tell you too."
Scott faced me again, a wide grin dazzling. "See you tomorrow, then. I did really miss you, Brooke."
"Well then, come up here and hug me night!" He laughed and jogged the stairs. A tight hug then he was gone, the coat rack nearly spinning from his hurrying.
I laughed to myself. Continuing up the stairs and to my room, I noticed my portion of the hallway was nearly untouched.
Like the forgotten daughter.
I felt like such shit then. Not visiting for even holidays must have pissed everyone off. But I convinced myself I was starting anew, right after a stupid fight with my mother. A few choice words were thrown around about my not going to a closer school and how I wanted independence from 'a woman who seemed to smother me'.I left the weekend after the fight and never once came back. Not even when the homesickness seemed to crush me in a city significantly bigger than my miniature hometown. Until now. The city eventually overwhelmed me and I needed smaller and warmer, my home.
I had called my mother, apologizing and telling her I was coming home. I could hear the tears in her voice along with the excitement to 'have all her babies in one nest'. We ended the phone call on good terms, but I fully intended to give a physical apology and hug in person. As soon as she returned home, that is. Hospitals creep me out. And I was tired.
The cold metal door knob met my touch and I entered my room. It looked as if it had never been touched in the three years. My purple comforter was still mussed. Exactly the day I left it, too lazy to even make my pillows were thrown about the bed and water bottles dotted the floor. The plain white walls still held scuffs and chips from teenager drama tantrums. I think a dent from when I threw my phone at the wall with the force of hulk after a cheating boyfriend broke up with me.
The long carpet I had insisted on in my room brushed against my shoes. I slipped them off by my dresser, my feet meeting the cushiony-feeling of the carpet I claimed to have 'loved more than life itself!'
Teenage posters littered the walls. Bands I liked. Stars I loved. And movies I was obsessed with. The sticky tack must have loosened on one, the poster folding in on itself. I smoothed the sleek paper up from the bottom, pressing firmly against the wall as I did so. Jacob Black's oiled chest met my face. A very nice chest. One I had traced dozens of times, like a complete weirdo.
I ruefully abandoned the beautiful poster to search my dresser for sleeping clothes. Hopefully I wasn't too unruly to not leave any clothes. The first three drawers proved to disappoint. Only a sock found so far into my search for clothes. Stupid. Teenage. Me. Only a sock left. One freaking sock out of the hundreds of shopping trips
There was no way I was wearing stiff jeans to bed. Jeans were shucked but my tank top remained and I nestled into my comforter, curling into a tight ball.
Minutes into blissfully sleeping, I was awoken. Solid knocks on the front door alerted me someone was here. I checked the phone beside my head to see I had been asleep only twenty minutes and the time now neared midnight. A text message flashed below the time. A message from 'Derek Hale'. I momentarily forgot the message as the knocking pounded again.
Through sleep ridden eyes, I stumbled down the stairs. Lights were flipped on along the way to the door then the porch light. I swung the door open.
Derek Hale stood on the other side of the door, dressed the same as nearly a half hour ago. In his outstretched hands my dark jacket and can of pepper spray hung loosely. I had forgotten them in his car. Looking over his shoulder, I made out his dark car in the equally colorless night. It was parked a few houses down and appeared to be off. My hands found the items and retracted them from Derek slowly.
The cool of the air found its way to the door and at the same time both Derek and I realized I was merely dressed in my underwear and a tank top. The tank top he had sucked my cleavage from.
"Come inside," I invited, my body now slightly hidden behind the door and gesturing behind me. I tossed the items to join my bag and shut the door.
A swift movement turned me to face him and his lips to consume mine. The events of earlier tonight clearly not forgotten.
` My fingers once again found their place gripping Derek's soft hair. Derek's hands found their way to grasp my ass cheeks firmly. A breathless moan escaped my mouth. His lips tilted in a smirk against mine. I bit his bottom lip, almost chastising him. This unlocked something primal in him. His slick tongue slid through my parted lips intertwining with mine in a sensual dance. Derek's grip on my ass tightened to lift me closer to him and wrap my legs around him.
The apex of my thighs rubbed against his defined abs. A strangled moan ground from around our tongues. Obviously we were not going to stand in the middle of my foyer with him holding me against him over a raging hard on I could feel through thin panties.
"Up...stairs...end of hall," I managed to breathe out. I held to Derek tighter as we moved to the stairs and him politely turning off lights with each step. He paused midway in the hall. I pulled away and opened my eyes to see him staring right, Scott's bedroom door. "Derek?"
My breathy whispered moved his attention from the closed vacant room back to continued, each step jostling me and causing friction to rub between my panties and his shirt. My moaning increased and my ankles were going to be fused together, held so tightly around Derek. He closed my bedroom door behind us as we entered. My back met the door, our lips separated for him to suck the length of my throat. Moans, heavy breathing and suckling were the only sounds ringing around the room. I felt the need to fan myself.
I slipped my legs from his waist to meet the carpet. He looked down questioning me with almost electric blue eyes. Slow fingers traced down his abdomen leading to me grasping the hem of his shirt and slipping up. New bare skin meeting my touch. Derek seemed to hiss and tilted his head back. The shirt was thrown across the room. Hot breath fanned over his chest the closer I became. With a feather-like touch I pressed my lips against his muscular chest. Hard planes were appreciated as my tongue added to the experience. Muscles flexed under my exploring, either from arousal or need to show off impressively I didn't know. Nor cared.
Pushing forward, I marched Derek until he hit my bed and fell back, staring up at me. I made sure to keep eye contact drawing the tank top slowly over my abdomen. The tortured look in his eyes hurried me to finish pulling off the top and tossing it too. Cold air rushed to my chest, nipples perking in response. Derek's eyes followed the movement. Eyes widened and he visibly swallowed. My own eyes were hooded, trying to pull off a seductive look.
Teasing seemed an excellent way to turn him on, more than he already was. The bulge in his jeans was as unmistakable as the eiffel tower. My hands rested softly on his thighs, rising slowly. Every few seconds my hands would dip closer to his bulge, but never touching. Strong thigh muscles bunched under my palms, both our nerves fully alight. After an eternity I reached his button and zipper. He pulsed against me.
I had just unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans when the sound of voices could be heard.
"What do you mean, 'you can smell him?' Like he hasn't showered?" An unfamiliar voice came from right outside my door.
"I mean, I can literally smell him, as in he's in the house." Scott sounded tense and angry.
I was confused by their conversation. Who could they smell? My confused eyes met cold, hard ones. Derek tensed under my touch, not moving my hand from cupping him, though.
Words were halted from my mouth as a knock sounded at the door. "Brooke, are you asleep?" Scott's words were soft and void of any previous tension or anger. Derek's eyes had not left mine as I straightened, composing myself before answering. "No." The simple syllable rang dead through the silent room. It held a double meaning as well. I would not be getting any tonight.
"Did you let anyone in the house while I was gone?"
I bit my lip to regain composure. "No." The only word I was capable of.
"Well, do you mind if I-" An unlocked doorknob turned. "Yes!" I flung myself at the door. Every inch of me was pressed against the door to prevent Scott from entering. My breathing sped up as I felt a presence behind me. A gasp softly let out from soundless lips on my neck.
"Brooke, is everything alright in there?" A trace of worry held in my little brother's tone.
Scott tried the doorknob again. Derek mutely placed one hand beside mine to hold the door closed to Scott. I lifted my body from the door to come in contact with Derek's hot chest. "Yes, everything is- great!" My answer came out breathy at the end and I bit back a moan. Derek's single, unoccupied hand, travelled around my hip, dipping into the elastic of my panties. Hot fingers drifted down until they deftly ran lightly over my folds.
Being fingered by a hot guy on the door my brother was standing on the other side of, was unfortunately not on my bucket list. The last remaining strength I had pushed Derek's hands away. He received the message loud and clear, all contact was lost between us. My half-naked self shivered from the loss.
"Alright...I just forgot a few things, so I came back to get them. If you're fine and all, then I guess I'm leaving again." Scott's voice was uneasy, but farther away sounding.
"Yes I am perfectly-" I turned to face Derek, expecting to resume what was interrupted, I was instead left with an empty room and open window, "fine."