Oh, I'm not even going to pretend like I have an excuse for how late this is. So we pick up right where we left off:
...
Across the floor, Derek sees Casey dancing with Vicktor, her arms closed around his back, head tucked in above his shoulder, looking back, directly at him.
She doesn't falter or look away and when he catches her staring, so neither does he.
He knows exactly why he does it: they need a catalyst and if he leaves it up to her, they would be pussy footing around until she published a novel's worth of pro/con lists. He needs some goddamn spontaneity.
The music is loud. The people between them don't matter. Casey's eyes are still locked with his, looking across the floor, resting comfortably from their perch on Vicktor. His hands are full of Samantha. Derek watches Casey as he draws his hand into the red hair at his fingertips. With his other hand, he pulls her hips to his. Casey picks up her head, her gaze suddenly attentive. Derek slides his hand farther into her hair and the other lower on her ass. He tips her head back, smiles one last second at Casey, and Derek kisses Samantha.
He feels her at his side in heartbeats. Not that he's been counting. Casey is still wrapped around Vicktor, and her smile is alight with danger. She is warm, and he can feel Casey everywhere. So he closes his eyes, and kisses Samantha harder.
The music changes and the whole floor switches to a slower dance. Derek spins Samantha around so that he can be back to back with Casey. She leans into him, flush from her ass, so her head is almost resting on his shoulder, "Nice pick, does she come STDs included?"
"Didn't take you long to cozy up to my friend, did it?"With the beat, they move away from one another, and then she's alongside him, and there is no contact between them. He speaks again when Samantha looks away, "It's like high school all over again."
She presses her face into Vicktor's chest. He's tall enough so that his chin tucks onto the crown of her head, then she smiles at Derek. Then she looks Samantha up and down, "She's not blonde, but busty, stupid," she ticks off the list, "It really is high school."
The music comes to climax. It's hot on the dance floor, and all of his synapses are firing. His pulse runs out into his fingertips. The crowd surges with the chords, and in seconds Casey and Derek are pressed together again, back to back. He leans into her, his lips almost touching her skin, "And I thought you learned your lesson after Max. I thought it was no more insensitive jocks. Not the truth, eh?" he digs at Vicktor, his malicious whisper right in her ear.
"Why do you think I could never stomach dating you?" They're pushed closer together, touching from ass cheek to shoulder blades. Everywhere they touch, her skin is on fire. Casey drives her heel into her own foot to snap herself out of it. It hurts for half a second, and then everything is warm again, and she can't breathe. She puts her hands behind her back, and touches his leg, "I know exactly what you're doing, Derek."
She tosses her hair.
She smells like vanilla. She's always smelled like vanilla.
He licks his lips. "Congratulations, I see they taught you something at that expensive private college of yours," Derek sneers. He feels Casey stiffen, throw back her shoulders. He steels himself to keep from losing his footing. Her head snaps up straight. They're no longer touching. "How's Daddy? Spoken to him recently?"
Casey closes her eyes, "He paid for school, but I cover my own way now," she jams her elbow back into his ribcage, "So fuck you, Derek."
"Is that an invitation?" Where his cheek touches hers, where his back holds her up, where his breath touches her skin; everywhere he touches, it burns. Casey's hands fall off Vicktor's shoulders. Derek slides his hand into her back pocket. She sighs, and falls into him instead of away. On the other side, Vicktor knits his hand in hers. "Because," Derek turns so his mouth is right alongside her ear and his voice shivers down her spine, "Because that could be arranged." His voice is velvet. And she cannot tell if she can actually hear him speaking or if this is all in her head.
Casey drops her hands from Vicktor, and closes her eyes. She moves with the music, eyes closed, and everytime she does, Casey can feel Derek against her.
She takes a breath, and they touch, barely. Casey catches Vicktor's eye, "I'm sorry," she says, and he has to read her lips over the sound of the beat.
Casey doesn't wait for Vicktor to catch on. She turns, and Derek matches her movement. Casey looks up; their eyes meet and immediately she closes them, and the distance between them. They touch from collarbones to hips, Derek's arms are wrapped around her back. His lips are by her ear and she can't speak for the feeling welling up in her throat.
"God, Derek."
His teeth are on her earlobe, and her hands are in his hair. Everything feels like- -it feels like everything is happening all at once and- -she pulls back, still holding him...
He swallows; she watches his lips. And his eyes flutter and flicker down and closed. His lips are parted, all of the breath has vanished from his chest. Casey can feel her heart beat inside of her throat. His forearms twitch and clench. He leans toward her. In her mind, she sees Samantha's face.
Casey balks, rips her hand from his grip and throws it in a beautiful arc that connects horrifyingly with the side of his face.
The adrenaline rushes straight to his dick. He spits, and the sound stops the music in his head.
"Don't you touch me with that slut-fucking mouth."
Derek's face is stinging and red and his dick is hard, pressed up against her. He knows she can feel him. His heart races.
And Casey stands there, staring. Fuming, her breasts rising and falling in time with her breath. The she swallows, her eyes bulge, and like a deer in headlights, she bolts.
He reaches out for her wrist, but she slips away. "Case- -Spacey," he runs after her when she doesn't answer, "Come on."
She gets on the elevator and lets the doors close behind her. Derek rushes up the stairs, and it really feels like high school- -hoping he can catch up to her before she locks herself into her bedroom. The flights of stairs are doubled, and he's out of breath by the time he reaches her floor.
She's slumped against her doorway, and he doesn't even take a second to check his attitude. Derek stalks down the hall, pressed forward by the ache in his cock, coming to a stop directly in front of her, hands on the door on either side of her face, he leans close, "What the fuck is your problem?"
Her heart stops in the breath she takes, and then so does his. Casey looks up at Derek, like she is realizing it just as he is. "You," she says, and it rips her in half to admit it, to be suddenly so honest, and so raw.
It's the best damned thing he's ever heard her say.
Before she knows what's happening, her mouth is on his and her soul is pouring forth faster than she can breathe. Casey is drowning, but thriving. He is hard in front of her, and the door is firm behind her. For the first time in five, maybe fifteen years, she can stand tall without the help of anyone, but only now that she has the support of the one who means everything can she really stand tall enough.
He grinds his hips into her slow, but absolutely frantic and she scrambles: her fingernails on the back of his neck, her fists in his hair. "You know, Der," Casey presses her face alongside his, "after all this time you've had to practice, I had hoped you'd be a little better at this by now," she teases, tantalizing in his ear. He growls, and wraps his hands around the back of her pants and cups her ass. Casey feels her feet leave the ground and he kisses her with such force that her shoulders smack into the door. He trails his lips, hot, heavy and soaking down the side of her neck and nips where the top of her shirt meets her breasts. He moves his fingers around front; teasing at her waistband, playing with the lace of her tiny panties. He bites her lip and rips a moan from her then, like it's the last thing he'll ever do.
He groans, his fingers in all of her pockets, "Where is your key?"
"Derek," she laughs, and it's beautiful, and kind of breathy. "You think you're getting in that easy? Oh, no." Casey puts her hands on his face, cupping her palms along his jaw, "No, it's not going to work that way."
He looks back at her, eyes full, lips open. "What do you want me to do?" He asks, keenly aware of the shift in their power dynamic.
And then she asks for it, the one thing he's always been afraid of doing; "Show me how much you want it."
He pulls back and she slides, just half an inch lower on the door. Then Casey blinks, checks her groan before it's out of her throat and puts her feet back on the floor. Derek looks at her, and then closes his eyes. He kisses her cheek and nuzzles her neck and she can't help the noises that come out of her mouth. His dick twitches. "Goodnight, Case," he catches her gaze, "I wouldn't want to start this again unless you're absolutely sure," he drops his hand from hers. Derek's heart is pounding, his breath is shallow in his chest, and he's biting the side of his tongue, trying desperately not to laugh. And hoping beyond hope that she'll wise up and call him on his bullshit. With a final smirk, he turns around and begins to walk away.
"Where are you going?"
He doesn't turn back, and he's halfway down the hall already. She bolts after him, "Derek," she screeches, "Der-ek!" Casey catches up to him, he face is pink and the color is spread across her whole chest.
She hears another door open on their floor, "Do you mind?" and she turns to find a disgruntled man in a bathrobe peeking his head out of the door, "Some of us are trying to sleep."
Casey flushes a deeper shade of magenta, and grabs Derek's hand, "Sorry, sir. We'll just-we're going now."
Derek pulls against her, walking back toward the bank of elevators. "No you don't," Casey yanks him toward her, "No, no. You're coming with me."
"Is everything all right there, kid?" the man asks as Casey drags Derek in front of his door. Casey stops, opens the door to her suite, staring between the two men. The man in the bathrobe is smiling, "Do you need me to call someone?"
Derek grins and then he winks, "I got it."
Casey huffs, yanks Derek into her room, "Good night, sir." She closes the door and spins Derek around so he is pinned up against the wall. She draws a deep breath, and stills, trying to focus her thoughts around the cloud of want, need.
"You think I'm not ready for this?" she has one hand on the center of his chest, splayed between his muscles. He feels so strong. She pauses, fumbling for her thoughts. Casey hits him when she remembers, "Have you seen my shirt?" she hisses, "Do you see what I let Kate talk me into wearing?"
He bites his lip, the corners of his mouth quirk up into a smile. His heart pounds warningly fast.
Casey spins around, her back to him, "Look!" she peers at Derek over her shoulder, "Do you see what's written on my back?" She points, "That's your name. Your name!" She looks away, into the suite, across the desk, and the television, and the bed. Oh, the fucking bed, with it's pillows and covers and it's wide horizontal surface... "God, Derek- -what else do I have to-"
She feels Derek run his fingers along the letters on her back.
Casey flinches, looses her footing, and falls into Derek. He catches her around the waist; his left cheek touches her right.
She rolls her eyes with her whole head, she can feel him smile, "These damn impossible shoes," she bends over to take them off. His hands are still on her hips and her ass is right on his- -Casey knows Derek is pretty solid; he has to be after hours of suicides on the ice rink, but damn. She forgot what he felt like. Casey whips around, shoes only half off. Her chest is pushed into his, and she has her hand pressed around his dick; he's rock fucking hard. Casey looks up at him, grinning slowly, her eyes narrowed, "You were never going anywhere."
He kisses her and she's not ready; the momentum pushes them up against the bathroom door. Her other shoe falls to the floor. Derek's hands are on either side of her face, pressed against the wood as hard as his hips are pressed to hers. He licks a line up her neck, and Casey moans, low in her throat.
Derek smirks, his eyes alight, "What was that you were saying about me not being good enough?"
She wraps her arms up around his shoulders, her breasts pressed up against him, "That's not what I said," her lips are by his ear and he sinks into her words.
"Oh," he breathes, "it's not?"
"No," only its more a moan than a word, Casey starts circling her hands around the blade of his shoulders. "All I was saying is that with all this time to practice," she shudders, and has to catch her breath, "I thought you've have picked up a few new tricks by now."
He growls, yanks her into his own space, and buries his face between her breasts.
"You're good enough, Der." She gasps when he runs his tongue along her collarbones. "I just thought you'd be mind-blowingly good."
He scoops her up and throws her down on the desk alongside the giant bed. Derek pulls her to him, his hands around her ass, his movements quick and decisive. The edge of the table is sharp against his thighs. But she's warm against his dick. He holds her hands on the desktop and looms over her.
"You're really bringing your A-Game, huh?" Casey grins at him, wraps her legs around his waist, yanking him closer. "Is this what you whip out for all the ladies?" She has her hands up under his shirt, her fingertips tracing the outline of the muscles in his back, "I think you can do better." She's goading him, and she's doing a damn good job.
"I could leave," he draws the line of her ear with his tongue.
Casey moves her hands to his ass and pulls him close, trying to suppress a moan when their bodies touch."This is our bit, D." She holds his gaze, "You have to beat me."
He pulls her off the desk, holding her to him. He kisses her neck, sucks at her pulse point, drags his tongue where his jersey meets her skin.
"You know," he says between kisses, "when you were standing with Kate, outside the lockers..."
She makes a noise of agreement, lips busy on the skin of his neck.
"You're the first person I've seen wearing my Rangers jersey..." he stops, he cannot breathe enough air fast enough to keep up with her, "God, to know the first fan who noticed me wasn't some giant sweaty guy..."
She dips her head into him, smiling. He can feel her mouth on his cheek.
"I thought she had the best damn ass I'd ever seen," he squeezes hers, "Before I knew it was you, of course."
Casey drops her legs and shoves him backwards, ignoring the whimper she wants to let out at the loss of contact. Derek grabs her around the waist and they topple onto the bed, her on top of him. Her heartbeat is everywhere. Her legs are open. Casey straddles him, one hand splayed on his chest. "It's time this comes off," she pulls back the collar of her jersey, "I think I'm allergic to your ego," and Casey removes it in one swift motion and leans over Derek until their faces are almost touching, and her breasts graze him just below her chin.
"Much better," he agrees, but throws her off and pins her beneath him, his eyes in her eyes and their souls finally on fire.
"So, Casey," he dips his chin alongside her ear. He holds her wrists with one hand above her head, and his grip is tight. "Do all the same things turn you on?" With one hand, Derek flicks opens the button on her jeans, and yanks her pants off from her ankles. Then he's back in her face and her breath is coming in short, her chest pulling in and out in time with the beat of his heart. She throws one of her dancer's legs over the back of his thigh, begging him closer, but he refuses. Casey whimpers; he shifts his weight and he traces his fingers all over her torso. His touch is lace feather light over the swell of her breasts and the hollows in her hips. And he kisses her, everywhere, on her nose and lips, her collarbones, between her breasts, just above the bow in the middle of her bra.
She arches her back, making little noises, fingers wrapped around the strands of his hair.
And Derek continues down her stomach, his hands on her thighs, fingertips tucked underneath her panties. He licks his way down to the top of her pussy and he pulls her underwear down with his teeth, using his hands and the flat of his tongue to help them off the rest of the way.
Casey writhes, and uses his position change to flip on top of him, straddling him across his stomach, so wet she's probably leaving a mark. "I like this shirt," she says and breaks into a smile, "But I think it would look better on the floor." Derek swallows through a huge smile. She pushes her hands up along his sides, halfway between sensual and tickling and presses into him closer as each inch of fabric comes off.
She moans when their naked skin touches, and they switch again, on their knees, facing one another on the bed, her hands quickly undoing his belt buckle. He pushes her back onto the bed, hands full of her breasts as he kicks off his jeans, and his pants fall carelessly to the floor. She doesn't even have a second to admire him in his underwear before he puts his head down and follows his hands with his tongue. She knots her fists in his hair and he smiles near the top of her thigh. But Casey pulls him up by the back of his head, rolling her eyes, "Oh, come on. That never works."
The room is bright enough he can still meet her eyes. He trails his hand from her ass to the back of her thigh and holds her leg up level with his shoulder, "That's because you refuse to be vulnerable with anyone." He kisses the back of her knee, and bites her leg.
Casey glares, "Pot, meet kettle," and removes her legs from his grip.
"Right," and he starts in on her other leg, "That was my mistake. Did I accuse you of not being vulnerable enough?" he punctuates his words with wet kisses on her calf. His cock is aching, and showing this much restraint will quite possibly kill him, but he snarks on, "More like the opposite, Princess." He bites the soft skin of her inner thigh and she gasps, her legs tighten automatically around his head and his face is pressed flush to her, wet and sweet. Casey swallows, desperate to keep her voice steady as he tongues her inner thigh and the outside of her lips, "Please, Derek." It's meant to be blase, and she almost pulls it off, "I just know what it is that I want."
He pauses for a second, and she has to bite back a a moan of regret when he stops. He peeks up at her from between her legs, his bangs falling down onto his forehead and his chin damp. Derek licks his lips, waiting for her to continue.
She fists his hair, propped up on her other elbow, "You're trying to beat me. And let me tell you, that's nothing compared to the real thing." She presses her knee into his crotch. Derek doesn't even flinch.
He shakes his head, his smile devilish. "Poor poor Casey and her sexually repressed boyfriends who don't know how to eat a pussy," He keeps his eyes locked with hers for a second longer and then tongues a hard line up the center of her clit.
She screams.
Derek gives her a kiss and then pauses, just long enough to mock her, "Should I stop?"
Casey cannot answer, her cries are wordless, and her hand at the back of his head tightens as he continues the barrage of his lips on hers. He continues until she's mewling, hands spread and grasping at the sheets, her mind so out of focus she can't even remember her own name. She wraps one of her legs around his neck and holds him close; he cannot breathe, Derek can only feel and it's her, everywhere it's her. He draws her close to the edge, she can't make a sound, her breath comes in like a hurricane. He can't feel his jaw, he digs his fingers into her side and then runs them up her legs. He kisses and then licks and then pulls back gives her a second to catch her breath, still running his fingers all around her.
She swallows, backs down from the ledge, her whole body still humming and he walks his fingers closer. She breathes again, "Derek," she says, beautiful, broken, exhausted, and he pinches her clit and sinks his fingers inside of her while he drags his tongue all across her lower abdomen.
Casey's sweet and convulsing, and he watches her eyes when he lifts up his body, just as she's about to come. He pulls his fingers out and strokes her cheek.
She cannot even focus her gaze on his. He dips his hips into hers, his cock so hard it's holding the slit is his boxer briefs wide open. He presses into her, the cotton soft, but entirely not what she wants.
Casey lurches forward, her hands full of his ass, her fingernails scraping along his skin, pulling down the black briefs just far enough so that she can pull them off with her feet. She centers her hand on his chest and pushes him down beside her on the bed. And then she swings one leg around, and lands directly on his dick. She circles her hips, and she slides onto him, tight and wet and gorgeous. He fills her completely, and it's like coming home.
Derek groans and unclasps her bra. She falls forward, pushing the cups off her arms as she goes, until her nipples graze his chest. She moans. Her lips are tracing the outline of her ear, and his are buried in the hollow between her neck and shoulders. They're entirely still, adjusting to the moment.
His voice cracks on her name, and they begin to move.
She takes the lead, sets the pace: slow and agonizing, but deliciously good.
Derek doesn't think he can manage coherent thought, but bickering with Casey is second nature. "You're trying to kill me aren't you?"
She looks down at him, her breasts bouncing with the movement of her hips, and he can't look at her face at a moment like that, "No Der, I believe this is what they call fucking." The smirk on her face is too good to be true, so he flips them so he's back on top.
He growls, once again incapable of sentences. She's got her leg slung up over his shoulder, and damn, the girl knows how to drive him wild. He thrusts into her, and he face falls to the side of the pillow. She's gasping, moaning, alternating between his name and a string of expletives he's never heard come out of her mouth before tonight. Casey only breaks her facade for him. He leans until their faces are closer, he kisses her forehead, her nose, and then both of her cheeks, and when he kisses her lips, he draws his fingers in circles around her clit, and it's enough to send white hot bolts of pleasure down her legs and up her spine and to her brain, and she comes undone around him. Her orgasm rolling in like waves, and her convulsions and her helpless mewling, and they way she says his name all enough to take him with her over the edge. He collapses into her, her legs falls to his waist, and she holds him there, one hand on his back and the other on his ass.
Derek's lips are by her ears, his breath is shallow and hot, "The puck's in your net, SpaceCase. I think I won that one."
Casey runs her fingers in his hair. "You don't win anything until you do what you promised," she nips at his earlobe and grins. "You win when you make me come with that slut-fucking mouth."
He presses himself up so he can look her in the eye. Her face is impassive, but he can see his own smirk reflected in her eyes, "Is that an invitation?"
...
Merry Christmas. ;) and please, please leave a review.