Author's Note- Edited.

Enjoy!

Forbidden

Pattern

Despite the fact that I could feel the weighted warmth of a heavy comforter enveloping me, I woke up feeling surprisingly cold. Bewildered and groggy, I blinked several times and took in my surroundings, briefly concerned with why I wasn't seeing the familiar plain, white walls of my dorm room. It was like waking up at a friend's house after a slumber party. It took my brain a few extra seconds to kick in and recall what had happened the night before and explain to me why I was somewhere I didn't quite recognize.

When the stadium, the story of a boy left behind by his mother and flashes of a large body tangled with mine came rushing back to me, I bolted upright, eyes frantically searching the room I was in to find evidence that what had happened last night had actually happened.

I was sprawled across a large, full sized bed, facing a door. The room I was in was exceptionally plain with a dresser to the left of the door, nothing more than a lamp and a couple towels sitting atop it. To the right was a desk with a laptop in sleep mode, a tumbler full of black and red pens, a jam jar half full of change and a stack of papers sitting on top of a familiar brown, messenger bag.

Derek's room. I was in Derek's room, in his bed, clothed- thank God- and... alone?

I barely had a second to sweep the room and wonder where Derek was before a mouthwatering smell had my stomach reacting in a fit of growls and gurgles.

Bacon.

I pulled back the comforter and slipped out of Derek's bed. Though I was wearing clothes, I had to strain my foggy brain to remember why I wasn't wearing my clothes.

"Chloe."

Derek's whisper tickled my ear as if he were right there, lips brushing against it, arms tight around me, my back pressed firmly against his bed, his legs tangled in mine… Only this wasn't happening at the present time. My cheeks flamed as I recalled Derek and I and our… activities from the night before.

Derek hovered over me, keeping his weight from crushing me as his lips bruised mine, leaving me dizzy and breathless. His hands were everywhere all at once. Cupping the back of my neck, running over the back of my thigh and trailing up along my jeans and over my rump, gliding over the bear skin of my back, my sides, my stomach. Mine weren't doing anything better as they explored each muscle and every dip from his clavicle to that V where his lower abs met his hip flexors. I'd never thought I'd be as grateful as I was now that I paid attention in my high school anatomy class.

Derek's thumb hesitantly ran over the nipple of my left breast and I felt the last bit of my control escape me in a ragged gasp, my back arching so that I could meet his touch. Slowly- mind-numbingly slow- he dragged his lips across my jaw, down my neck, over my collar bone, moving centimeters per second until his mouth finally met the twin of the breast he was currently fondling. I sucked in a deep breath, eyes locked on him as he tested my taut nipple with a ghostly flick of his tongue.

Noises escaped me that I didn't even know I was capable of making. However, the heat coursing through me that left my cheeks and ears as red as a cherry tomato wasn't from embarrassment. Compared to Derek's slow and fluid movements, his low groans of satisfaction and quiet growls of appreciation with each new boundary he tested, he seemed calm and well aware of his actions where as I felt like a ticking time bomb ready to explode. Areas down south were on fire with liquid heat, especially when I felt him against my inner thigh, hard and warm.

Surprisingly, considering my nature, that wasn't good enough. I lowered my fingers to his jeans, taking hold of his belt buckle and tugging against it before I heard Derek's sharp intake of breath. Suddenly, cool air whooshed in as Derek hoisted himself onto his knees, hands placed on either side of my head as he held himself up.

"What's the matter," I breathed, blushing further when I couldn't find my voice due to how overwhelmed with pleasure I was. Derek's eyes glittered in the dark with that same storm I had seen out in his living room. However, it looked as if he were struggling to fight against it. I felt my brows furrow in confusion as he bowed his head, squeezing his eyes tight and fought to take deep, even breathes.

After a minute he said, "We should stop." His voice was so low I had to strain my ears to hear him. I opened my mouth to say something but he continued. "I shouldn't have let us get this far. I felt something off and I should have…" He trailed off, glancing to the side, but he didn't have to say anymore.

I felt my heart trip at an uncomfortable pinch-like feeling, my breath catching as if I had just been hit with a slugger in the gut. Now the heat making me a vicious red color was from embarrassment.

He felt something off? He didn't want to take things this far? Maybe I had been right to worry about his physical attraction towards me, that I wasn't up to his standards. Maybe I had mistaken his look before, where it seemed like he wouldn't want to be with anyone else in this moment but me. How could I have let this progress and not have realized he felt that way? Why had I let me make a fool of myself when I was clearly not what he wanted? Why-

Derek finally met my gaze and, as if reading my mind through my expression, his green orbs widened in surprise and he said in a rush, "No, Chloe, it's not that! Trust me, you have no idea how much I want to."

I still couldn't push past the ever growing feeling of rejection and I closed in on myself, bringing my arms to cross over my chest and rub at the goosebumps on my biceps. In that second, I wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Chloe," Derek sighed quietly, burrowing his face into the crook of my neck. My breath caught but I swallowed it, suffocating the hope. But it kept resurfacing as his lips trailed soft kisses from just below my jaw down to my collar bone.

"I don't know how to really make you understand just how much I want this moment with you, Chloe Saunders," He muttered against my skin. "But something about it- This isn't the right time"

"What do you mean?" I asked, placing my hand against Derek's face and lifting his chin so that I could look him in the eyes again. This time his sigh was wary.

"Chloe, think about it. Think about us and how we are. Our relationship is centered on us tiptoeing on eggshells."

I took a second to consider his words and I could see what he meant. We weren't exactly in a public relationship simply because of the taboo of it. But it wasn't like we were going to stay like this forever. Derek seemed to read that thought.

"I know this isn't how it's always going to be, but until then, I don't like the idea of sleeping with you while everything is so secretive. It doesn't feel right. Shady, in fact. And it's my fault for letting it get this far. I was too eager and I rushed into it. And I'm sorry for tha-"

I propped myself up onto my elbows and kissed him. Softly, the fire from moments ago flickering in my chest, but I squelched it. Derek was right. We were in no position to bring sex into our relationship. Not yet at least. I felt a warmth flood through my heart and my veins at Derek's consideration, knowing now that I was ridiculous for thinking that he didn't want me, but in fact didn't want to move things too fast with me while we were in such a sensitive relationship. It made me think about just how much Derek must want this relationship to work and just how permanent he wanted it to be.

When we broke apart Derek hummed a whisper moving his lips from mine to my neck once again. "It's too late to take back everything I just said, isn't it?"

I released a breathy giggle and made him look back at me again.

"Thank you." I said. "You're right. We're not ready for this. But when we are, It's just you, Derek. I shouldn't know this yet, but I do. I want you to be my first, and hopefully my last."

Derek's eyes sparked with an explosion of content and he smiled at me. That big, lopsided smile of his that lit up his whole face.

"And you will be mine as well."

I smiled at the ghost of Derek's words, like he had just whispered them. His actions the previous night had shed a little light on just how much of a gentlemen Derek was and what he wanted out of this. Out of us. Most men would have kept going and let what was inevitably about to happen, happen. I appreciated that Derek wasn't like most men.

I found my jeans at the foot of the bed on the floor as I had discarded them there and replaced them with one of Derek's oversized shirts before crawling back into bed with him and drifting off to sleep. I searched the rest of the room for my top but cursed when I remembered that my shirt had been left behind long before Derek and I had staggered into his bedroom. That meant it had to be in the living room somewhere.

Luckily enough, even though I had been heavily distracted during Derek's 'tour' of his apartment, I had paid enough attention to know that the living room was just outside Derek's bedroom door and was separated from the kitchen area by a wall and a dining room. So, if I smelled bacon, then that meant that Derek was in the kitchen and I'd be able to sneak through, grab my shirt and make it back to his room without him even knowing that I was awake yet. He may have already seen me drunk and agitated beyond belief while he tutored me, but I wasn't quite ready to let him see me when I had just rolled out of bed.

When I opened Derek's bedroom door, I was greeted with the small living room, a beige couch on the opposite wall from where I stood, a coffee table with a television remote sitting on top of it and a TV stand to my left, the wall separating this room and the kitchen on the other side of it. It opened into the dining area that had a four seated, wooden table and if you turned left from there, you'd be in the kitchen. I could hear the sharp crackle of bacon frying coming from that direction and decided now was my chance to search for my shirt.

I tiptoed into the living room, eyes scanning the little space for my green top. My bra would have been a nice find as well. When I didn't spot either, I wondered how it was possible not to. Derek's space was exceptionally clean, much like his organized desk back at the University. That and there wasn't much obstructing furniture to search around either. I was facing the wall opposite of the dining room, scratching my head and wondering where my clothes could possibly be when I felt arms wrap around my waist from behind.

I jumped nearly a foot in the air and yelped, the sound drowned out by a low, rumbling laugh. I relaxed at the sound.

"Good morning," He said, breath tickling my ear before he nuzzled my neck. "I believe what you're looking for is folded on top of the bathroom counter."

"Oh," I breathed, cheeks reddening. I turned in his arms and he brought my hands up and around his shoulders before he placed his own back onto my hips. He wasn't wearing anything more than the pair of sweats he had replaced his jeans with the night before. I felt my face grow hotter, along with other areas.

"That's dangerous, you know." I muttered as he met my eye. "You're cooking bacon. You can seriously burn yourself if the grease pops and jumps up at you while you're not wearing a shirt."

He shrugged.

"Someone else is wearing it at the moment."

Any more of this and I was going to be as red as Nate's hair.

"How did you sleep?" Derek asked me. I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for the change of subject.

"Very well, actually. Your bed is a lot more comfortable than mine is."

"I take it my sheets are more comfortable as well?" Derek asked with an amused quirk of his brow. I felt my own furrow in question.

"What do you mean?"

Another shrug.

"You're a blanket thief." He said, mirth prominent in his jade orbs.

"I-I'm not a-" I sputtered, blush coming back. Derek laughed.

"Oh yes you are. I woke up this morning, freezing, look down and saw that you had taken the comforter all for yourself."

I tried to stammer out some excuses- though I had nothing good to use since I didn't even know this about myself- and I fumbled with my words until I finally muttered, "Your bacon is burning." Then I wriggled out of his grasp and flitted back into his room, the sound of his light laughter following me.

Ten minutes later, I dared to show my face again after taking a quick shower- I didn't wash my hair or anything, making it a fast rinse- and changing back into my own clothes. I wish I had a way to brush my teeth to rid myself of morning breath, but I settled for using Derek's mouthwash he had sitting on his bathroom counter.

I walked back out into his living room and heard him back in the kitchen, finishing up the bacon, no doubt. I could also smell the faint scent of coffee brewing and eggs cooking. I poked my head around the wall.

"I hope that's almost finished." I said, catching his eye. "I'm starving."

"Yeah, almost. But I wasn't sure how you liked your eggs." He rumbled, glancing at the frying pan on the stove, a batch of eggs scrambling. I smiled.

"Scrambled is great."

He nodded, reached up to the cupboard above the stove and pulled out two plates, then asked, "Hey, do you mind turning the TV to channel 11?"

I gave him an agreement after a minor argument as to who was going to do cleanup after breakfast. I insisted since he had been so kind as to cook it, but he fussed. He was so stubborn. I lost. Releasing an exasperated breath, I trudged into the living room and picked up his remote from the coffee table. Derek watched about as much television as he did movies so, I wasn't all that surprised to find basic cable channels when I turned his TV on. I didn't really have to wonder what it was that he wanted to watch. It was barely nine on a Saturday morning so I wasn't perturbed to be greeted by the anchor woman that ran the morning news after I punched the number 1 twice. I was about to place the remote back down onto the coffee table and ask Derek if he wanted any help serving breakfast when a picture popped up to the right of the anchor woman that had me doing a double take at television screen.

Once I verified that I wasn't just seeing things, I felt my heart plummet and the remote slip from between my fingers. It clattered against the coffee table noisily as I stared at the screen.

"Oh no," I breathed, distantly hearing Derek question what the noise was, however, his voice was drowned out by that of the anchor woman.

"We just received word of a missing persons report filed in moments ago and local authority has asked us to address the audience of this young woman's whereabouts. Twenty-one year old Miranda Rivers was last seen yesterday by a fellow student at New York University before she went to study hall for a math course. The student claiming to be Ms. Rivers' friend and roommate told officials that the two had plans yesterday evening though Ms. Rivers never showed, nor did she arrive home between the time they had gone separate ways and when she had made the call for a missing person earlier this morning. The missing girl in question is about 5'9" with medium length brown hair and hazel eyes. When she was last seen she was wearing a bright red parka and a black scarf. If someone is to spot her, they are advised to call the police immediately. We'll have more information regarding Ms. Miranda Rivers as it becomes readily available."

Another missing girl. First Rae and now Miranda. I couldn't feel my legs. I couldn't remember how to breathe. All I could do was stare at Miranda's school ID photo and it seemed to grow bigger and bigger, taking full coverage of the screen before it shattered through the television and enveloped me in… I wasn't even sure.

It was Derek's voice that snapped me out of it. It was only a whisper of disbelief, but I heard him as if his words were shot from a military firearm.

"It's the same pattern. She was the second one."