Attraction: (A Temptation Series Stand-alone) (The Temptation Series Book 4) (10 page)

‘I thought we’d established that I’m not a lady,’ I replied.

‘No. You inferred that you weren’t. You are yet to prove
it.’

I handed my menu to the waitress and ordered the roast lamb
sandwich and an OJ, then leaned back in my chair and laid my napkin across my
lap. ‘And how would you like me to prove it?’

‘I’m sure you mentioned something about preferring your legs
open,’ he stated, then turned to the waitress. ‘I’ll have the turkey and
cranberry sandwich and a bottle of Coke, please.’

The poor thing was already blushing as she jotted down his
order, her eyes quickly flicking from her notepad to Derek’s uniform-covered
chest. ‘Thank you,’ she said hastily and fumbled with the menu when Derek
handed it to her. ‘I’ll be back in a minute with your drinks.’

Leaning forward, I opted to give him a dose of his own
medicine and get up close and personal. ‘Yes, I did mention that. And I still
go by it. I’ve had more fun with them open as opposed to them closed.’

Derek swallowed heavily, the muscles in his neck tensing
with the motion. ‘I bet you have. So ... are we going to reschedule our date?’

Relaxing a little, I moved back to a comfortable position on
my chair and rested my elbows on the table. ‘Maybe.’

‘Why maybe?’

‘Because, according to you, you owe me an apology,’ I smiled
sweetly.

Just as the waitress arrived with our drinks, Derek leaned
back and put his hands behind his head. He thanked her, then waited for her
departure. ‘Look, Carly, I’m sorry for being so short with you at Alexis’
birthday when you mentioned my fami—’

I interrupted, because I didn’t feel he should have to
justify himself where his family was concerned, regardless of the clipped way
he had spoken that day. ‘You don’t have to explain about your —’

‘Yes, I do,’ he butted in. ‘I do, because I want you to
understand that I was not trying to push you away. I enjoyed spending time with
you that night. And the way I ended things was a fucking disgrace.’

‘You’re overreacting,’ I offered, before sipping my OJ
through the straw.

Derek tipped his drink bottle back and began to skoll the
contents. Instantly, I became entranced by the way his throat muscles worked as
he swallowed. I said a little prayer in the hope he would spill some of it so I
could launch myself over the table and lick the drip from his neck.

Unfortunately, my prayers went unanswered and his drinking
ability was almost perfect.

‘My father is an arsehole of epic proportions and my brother
likes to suck up to him and make accusations. I don’t like either of them,’ he
explained, placing his bottle on the table.

I nodded. I didn’t want to add anything that might imply he
should continue with his private confession. This really was none of my
business.

‘Have you heard of King Logistics?’ he asked, rocking his
chair back to rest on two legs instead of four.

‘The freight company?’

‘Yep, that’s the one. Well, that’s the family business. The
one my father wanted me to run with my twin brother,’ Derek explained.

Oh, sweet lord of all things duplicated. He’s a twin.

Before I could answer, the waitress returned with our
sandwiches. We thanked her before she made herself scarce.

‘I take it you do not want to co-run the business,’ I
replied as I lifted the lid of my sandwich to check the contents.

Stupid bloody yuppy cafe. How many times have I told
these morons to put in mint sauce? Who the hell eats lamb without mint sauce?
It’s sacrilege.

I harrumphed, closed the lid and scanned the cafe for the
waitress, flagging her down. She quickly made her way toward me. ‘Yes? Can I
help you with something?’

‘Can you please get David to put in some mint sauce? Tell
him it’s Carly’s sandwich. He’ll know who I am.’

She apologised. ‘Sorry, I’m new here. I didn’t know.’

‘It’s fine. Chef David knows I cannot possibly eat a roast
lamb sandwich without mint sauce.’ I smiled, handing her my plate.

She laughed. ‘Sure, I’ll remember that.’

Taking the dish from my hands, the waitress then headed
toward the kitchen, only to return moments later. ‘On behalf of Chef David,
here is your mint sauce sandwich with a side of lamb,’ she said, wrinkling her
nose.

‘Hey, don’t knock it until you try it,’ I encouraged.

She laughed. ‘Was there anything else?’

I shook my head. ‘No, thank you.’

As I bit into my sandwich, humming with delight at the tangy
zest of the mint sauce connecting with my tongue, I noticed Derek’s amused
face.

‘What?’ I mumbled around my mouthful.

‘That’s disgusting.’

I swallowed. ‘How can you say it’s disgusting if you haven’t
tried it?’

‘I don’t want to try it.’

‘Well, good, that’s your loss then. And anyway, I wouldn’t
share even if you begged me to. I
do not
share mint sauce.’

‘I’m sure I could get you to share if I really wanted you
to,’ he said arrogantly before biting into his own sandwich.

Pausing with mine only centimetres from my open mouth, I
snapped my jaw shut and glared at him.
You cocky cock popsicle.

‘Derek, let me fill you in on something. The only time I
will share mint sauce with you is if you licked it off my tongue, and even then
you would have to lick it hard.’

Derek swallowed his mouthful and rocked his chair forward
with a thump. ‘Baby,’ he said while leaning forward and grabbing the back of my
neck, ‘there’s only one way I lick, and it ain’t soft.’

He then pulled me forward to meet his mouth.

CHAPTER NINE

The kiss caught me off-guard, but holy hot vagina spasms,
the taste of Derek’s tongue mixed with the mint sauce was by far the tastiest
thing I’ve ever had in my mouth. And without sounding like a slutsky, I’ve had
a few tasty morsels in that orifice during my lifetime.

Derek’s tongue was warm, wet, hard and controlling, his lips
firm but soft all at once. With the loss of control over my voice box, I moaned
as he brushed his fingers over my neck. The way his mouth skilfully dominated
mine was both divine and aggravating.
Carly Henkley is not one to be
dominated.

Releasing me gently, a stark contrast to the way he captured
me, I had to admit that both comparisons melded flawlessly together, the kiss
pure perfection.
Goddamn it, no!

‘I believe in compromise, Carly,’ he said as he pulled away
and sat back in his seat. ‘You shared your mint sauce the way you wanted to
share it, and I proved I could make you do it.’

What? You stuck-up, egotistical, game-playing egghead.

Embarrassed at being played by him, I stood up in a fit of
anger, tossed my napkin on my plate and proceeded to exit the cafe. As I
wrenched open the door, not only did the stupid bell on top of it jingle and
piss me off further — because I hate those stupid things — but I also spotted
Vice Principal Sidebottom with her critical stare.
Argh! Just what I need, a
Sidebottom grilling when the lunch hour finishes.

Feeling hurt — a feeling I was not used to because of the
protective wall I had built around myself — I stormed along the footpath which
led back to the school, wanting to get far away from Dickhead Derek and his
dickhead games. I didn’t appreciate being treated like a pawn. I hated pawns
and I fucking hated chess ... last time I checked, castles were stationary.
They’re not supposed to move. Stupid game.

‘Carly! Carly, wait!

My pace quickened when I heard Derek calling from behind. I
was no martial artist, but I would sure as hell dig my shellac nails into his
cheeks if I needed to, not to mention perform the trachea-jab self-defence move
that Lexi showed me a couple of months back.

‘Carly, hold up,’ Derek said as he grabbed my arm.

I wrenched it free and kept walking. ‘Don’t fucking bother.’

‘Wait! What did I do?’ he asked with a tone of surprise.

Stopping, I spun around and glared at him. ‘I’m not a toy,
Derek. I don’t like to be played with just so you can get your kicks and prove
a point.’ I turned and began walking again, feeling tears start to pool in the
corners of my eyes.
Oh, no you don’t. I am not going to cry. Screw him.

‘Carly wait! I didn’t mean —’

‘You didn’t mean what?’ I interrupted, turning to face him
once again. ‘To kiss me in a public place just so you could demonstrate some
form of male chauvinistic dominance?’

Stepping forward, I poked my finger at him to make a point.
‘I may not be the settling down and marrying type. I may not be the type you
want to take home to meet your mum. Hell, I may not even be the relationship
type, full stop. But I can tell you what type I am. I’m the
don’t-fuck-around-with-me type. The don’t-use-and-abuse-me type. The —’

Before I could cement just the type of person I was, Derek
grabbed my face and kissed me once more, backing me up until I was pressed
against a telephone pole.

My hands found his head and slid on the short stubble that
was his hair. As our tongues ardently fought with one another’s and our lips
competed for the upper hand, I was unable to help myself, gently digging my
nails into his scalp and slowly dragging them down until I found his neck and
shoulders.

I pushed him back, needing to catch my breath and bearings.
‘Stop. Don’t. I can’t.’

‘Carly, I wasn’t playing with you in the cafe. I wanted to
kiss you ... I want to kiss you,’ he said as he leaned forward and seized my
mouth for the third time in less than ten minutes.

I tried desperately not to welcome the intrusion when, truth
be told, the intrusion was more like a welcome guest. A guest that I wanted to
show some hospitality to even though my head was telling me not to. It was
screaming:
Don’t give in to him. He has the capacity to break your heart.

I’d come to the conclusion a long time ago that if I never
handed a man my heart in its entirety, it would never be rendered vulnerable
enough to break. I was the keeper of my heart. No one else.

Pulling back slightly, my lips left his, but lingered just
long enough for one last featherlight kiss. They were traitors, wanting the
soft caress of his mouth when they knew it would only leave me in turmoil.

Derek searched my eyes when I parted from him completely.
‘You don’t believe me, do you?’ he asked, the question more of a statement.

‘No, I don’t,’ I answered honestly.

‘Tell me what I have to do to prove to you that I’m not
fooling around?’

‘I don’t know, Derek. I don’t know what to tell you. I ... I
... I’m not used to this,’ I answered painfully, my body slumping and my head
dropping in surrender.

Raising his arm to rest it on the pole above my head, he
relaxed his posture and leaned into me, lifting my chin with his hand. ‘You’re
not used to what?’

‘This,’ I gestured between us with my hand.

‘What? Attraction?’ he offered with a smile.

Yes, attraction, undeniable attraction. I am utterly attracted
to Derek. That’s all.

I nodded.

‘So you do like me,’ he said with a boyish grin.

I shoved his shoulder light-heartedly. ‘Shut up! You know I
do.’

‘No, I don’t. I honestly thought you stood me up when you
cancelled our date.’

‘I didn’t stand you up. I was really sick. I promise.’

He touched my lip just lightly. ‘I know that now.’

The question, with regards to the supposed happenstance of
our meeting today, sat on the tip of my tongue, when Ms Sidebottom walked past,
clearly taking note of both my and Derek’s positions against the pole.

Her expression was one of disdain. ‘Miss Henkley, need I
remind you that you are in view of the students currently playing on the school
grounds.’

‘No, Ms Sidebottom. I was just —’

‘In the middle of a demonstration,’ Derek interrupted, not
bothering to look in my vice principal’s direction.

‘Demonstration?’ she asked, incredulously.

‘Yes,’ he replied, pushing off the pole with his arm and
stepping toward her.

Her eyes widened in surprise as he approached her.

‘I was explaining to Miss Henkley the effects of smoke
inhalation. Do you know what smoke inhalation injury is?’ he asked, his voice
low and seductively suggestive.

‘Of course I do,’ she stuttered, feigning insult.

Derek nodded as if for her to continue. ‘Well?’

‘It is the effects of breathing in smoke from a fire,’ she
answered haughtily.

‘To put it mildly, yes,’ he said, moving closer to her yet
again. ‘But to put it more accurately, it is injury caused when inhaling or
being exposed to hot gaseous products of combustion.’

Derek spilled the informative words from his mouth like a
song without the need of a tune. His aura was one of pure sexual intoxication.

I watched with amused curiosity as Ms Sidebottom submitted
to Derek’s instruction as if she were a cobra being charmed with a pungi.

Derek continued: ‘The hot smoke can injure or kill through a
combination of thermal damage, poisoning and pulmonary irritation and swelling.
This is caused by carbon monoxide, cyanide and other combustible products,’ he
explained and then stopped.

Ms Sidebottom waited for him to continue, but Derek just
stood there and put his hands in his pockets before rocking back on his heels.
‘That is what I was demonstrating.’

Realising that his ‘demonstration of a demonstration’ was
done, she took a step back and gave us both a faux smile. ‘Right ... well ...
thank you very much for that information. But maybe the demonstration could be
done elsewhere in future,’ she said, as she stepped around Derek and made her
way back to the school.

When Ms Sidebottom was out of earshot, I let out a laugh. ‘I
can’t believe you just seduced my vice principal.’

‘Seduced? That was not seduction, Carly. I can show you
sed—’