"This is a nice place," Derek said, emerging from his thick coat.
"Thanks. Go ahead and take a load off."
The words were barely out of her mouth before Derek grabbed her by the arm and pulled her against him. She parted her lips and his mouth was on hers, firm, his skin cold, but his tongue hot and demanding. Melanie responded to the kiss immediately, winding her arm around his neck and standing on the tips of her toes. He was taller, somehow, than she expected. And he was better than she expected. He tasted of alcohol and salt.
Derek eased away from the kiss, but his breath was still warm against her mouth. He rested his forehead against hers, the act so simply intimate that her stomach dropped. She clutched his shirt with her other hand, holding him close, afraid that if they broke contact he'd leave, disappear somehow.
"I just needed to see," he murmured.
"See what?"
"If this would work. Do you think it'll work?"
"It'll work," Melanie assured him quickly. "It'll work."
Derek walked her back to the couch, pushing her down to the cushions. She pulled him with her, their mouths connecting as she relaxed against the plush couch. He straddled her, his knees sinking to either side of her hips, pressing her down with his weight. His cock was a hard bulge in his pants, the line of his erection pressing against her stomach. Burying his hands in her hair, he held her firmly in place and pushed the kiss beyond anything she had ever shared. Melanie clawed at his shirt, pulling it high over his back. Her fingernails scraped against his ribs, and he froze above her.
"What?" Melanie gasped. "What?"
Derek released her and leaned back, pulling his shirt over his head to expose a rainbow of bruises across his ribs. "That sack in the third..."
"Oh, my God," Melanie murmured, remembering the way she slammed into his chest outside. "Are you going to be okay?"
"It's nothing."
Her skin was still flushed, her pulse racing, but a feeling of tenderness eclipsed her hunger. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her fingers interlocking against the small of his back, and leaned forward to brush her lips over his heated skin, outlining one bruise in the partial shape of a shoe. Derek caught his breath, tensing beneath her mouth, but he didn't pull away. She retraced the same bruise with the tip of her tongue, savoring the faint taste of soap against his salty skin.
Derek fisted her hair, yanking her back to find her mouth again. She returned the kiss, unabashedly letting him know how much she wanted him. She wanted to lick the sweat from the hollow of his throat, bite his nipples and scrape her teeth across his chest. She wanted to swallow his cock, taste his come, use her mouth on him in ways that would make him forget his own name, and finally, let him fuck her on every flat surface. She had known they would have sex as soon as she issued the invitation to come back to her place, but that initial desire hadn't turned into an all-consuming craving until that moment, when he kissed her like she was the salvation he had been waiting for.
"Lay down," Melanie breathed.
"What?"
"On the couch. Lay down." She pulled back, looking at him through her lashes. "Please."
"You're not going anywhere, are you?"
Melanie smiled and unclasped her hands. "No."
"You're sure?"
"I'm positive," she said, gently pushing him aside and standing.
Derek stretched out on her over-sized couch, one foot touching the floor, his arm draped over the back. Melanie needed a moment just to look at him. He was perfect. Even with the bruises marring his ribs, he was perfect.
"Take off your pants."
)
