Eye of the Beholder
Copyright© 2025 by DB86
Chapter 7
Derek stared at the door for a long time after Annabella closed it. There was a tickle in his brain that usually signified the answer to a pressing question, if only he could focus.
Unfortunately, he had no idea what the question was, and he couldn’t focus worth a damn right now on anything other than her lips against his cheek and her breath along his neck.
He fought the urge to run upstairs, pound on the door, grab her and kiss her until her body throbbed the way his did.
Derek cursed and turned away. If it wasn’t for his rich fantasy life, he’d have no sex life at all.
He should go directly home. But he made the mistake of glancing up, and then he was no longer moving but staring.
Her lights were on. He could see her shadow moving back and forth behind the curtains. She wasn’t sleeping. What was she doing?
He had no idea, but since he was an inquisitive man, he leaned against the lamppost and watched awhile.
“You’re my hero,” she’d said.
Those words had him as curious as the odd movements that continued unabated in the upstairs room. She had no idea how hard he wanted to become her hero.
He had learned early on that allowing other people to affect how he felt about himself was asking to feel pretty bad for a whole lot of his life. He’d been about to tell her that when she’d kissed him, and he’d lost any trace of a brain.
Her mouth was soft, her breath sweet. He’d been unable to keep himself from touching her skin. Thank God for self-control. Otherwise, he might have grabbed her with both massive hands and scared her to death.
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