A Monster In Bed (Erotica) novel Chapter 5

Though they’d spent plenty of time together over the last years, it had always been in a neutral location. Or her own home, the one she’d shared with Clement. The last time she’d been in his house was when Clement was still alive, and the couple had been frequent visitors back then.

He curled his arm around Sandra’s waist as he ushered her through the foyer and into the living room. She stiffened but made no move to distance herself from him. She was too busy looking like she was waiting for the anvil to drop from the sky on her head.

When they entered the living room, he loosened his hold and took a step away, dragging a hand raggedly through his hair. Then he turned, not sure how exactly to pose the questions burning his tongue. Fuck it. He only knew one way. Blunt.

“What the hell were you doing in The House tonight, Sandra?” he demanded.

She flinched at the fury in his tone and her eyes became shadowed.

“You have no idea what you’re getting into by being there,” he continued. “No idea at all. Do you have any clue what could happen to you? What Craig would have done to you? Let me tell you. He would have had you bent over while he flogged your pretty ass and then he would have f**ked you without mercy, uncaring of your pleasure. It would have been all about his own. He would have taken you and used you and wouldn’t have given a damn about you or your pleasure. What the hell were you thinking?”

She wet her lips, her eyes going glossy with tears. Ah hell. The last thing he wanted was to make her cry when she’d made it the entire day, or at least the time she’d spent with him, without shedding a single tear.

“I do understand, Derrick,” she said quietly. “I understand far more than you think.”

His brow furrowed. “Have you been going to The House before tonight?”

She shook her head. “No. This was my first night.”

“Jesus Christ, Sandra. What the hell? Do you have any idea what might have happened to you if I hadn’t been there? There is no way in hell I’m allowing you to go back to that place. You don’t belong there.”

Her lips quivered and then she seemed to mentally shake herself. She steeled her features and leveled a firm stare at him.

“I know exactly what I was doing. You don’t understand, Derrick. You’d never understand.”

“Try me,” he challenged.

She stared at him a long moment, her eyes uncertain, almost as if she were trying to decide whether to trust him. He was on edge, because damn it, he wanted her to be able to come to him for anything. Anything at all. And he wanted her trust.

Then she closed her eyes and sank onto the couch, sitting forward, her face buried in her hands. Her shoulders shook and it was all he could do not to go to her. Not to comfort and hold her and tell her everything would be all right. But he waited. Because whatever she had to tell him he sensed was huge. And that it would forever change the way he looked at her. At any possibility of them being together.

She lifted her head, her eyes swimming in tears. “I loved Clement with all my heart and soul. He was my soul mate. I know that. And I know I’ll never find that kind of love again.”

Derrick’s breath caught and held because that wasn’t something he wanted to hear. That she’d resigned herself to a loveless existence because she didn’t think another man would ever love her as Clement had. When in fact, he was that man. He already loved her—had loved her forever—and given the opportunity, he’d show her that she damn well could find another man who’d give her his everything.

“Clement gave me everything I could ever possibly want or ask for. Except . . .”

She broke off and looked down again, her shoulders sagging in defeat.

“Except what, Sandra?” Derrick asked softly, puzzled by her statement. He knew damn well Clement would have given her the moon. Anything that was in his power to provide her, he would have done absolutely.

“Dominance,” Sandra whispered.

Derrick’s nape prickled and a curl of . . . hope? quivered through his veins. His pulse raced and he had to calm himself and clarify that he’d heard her correctly. Because there was a whole lot he didn’t understand.

“Dominance?”

She nodded. Then she looked up at him, misery clouding her beautiful eyes. “You know how he grew up. What he endured. How he and Sophia were horribly abused. In the beginning, when we first met, we talked about my . . . need. What I thought I needed and wanted. And he wouldn’t—couldn’t—bring himself to do anything that could possibly be construed as abuse. He worried constantly that somehow he would inherit his father’s abusive nature, that it was somehow genetic, and he’d die before ever doing anything to hurt me. As if he would! It was why he was reluctant to have children. He wanted them. God, he wanted them and so did I. It’s my biggest regret that I didn’t have his child, a part of him to live on now that I’ve lost him. But he was so terrified that he’d abuse his own children.”

The last part came out in a sob and Derrick could no longer keep his distance. He crossed the room, sat on the couch next to her and pulled her into his arms. She buried her face in his chest as he ran his hands through her hair.

“Clement would never hurt you or his children,” Derrick said with absolute confidence.

Sandra pulled away, her tear-filled eyes gutting Derrick. “I know that. You know that. But he didn’t. And I couldn’t convince him of that. His father messed him up, Derrick. Him and Sophia both. They never recovered from all he had done to them and it affected them well into their adult life. It still affects Sophia. When I told her what I planned to do, she freaked.”

“I’d like to hear what it was you planned as well, Sandra,” Derrick prompted gently. “What was tonight all about?”

She turned away, clenching her fingers into tight fists. “I know you think I don’t have a clue what I was getting into, Derrick, but I’m not stupid. I didn’t just up and decide to go to The House. It’s something I’ve thought about and researched for months. I talked with Damon Roche a lot. He wanted to make sure I knew what I was getting into and that I wasn’t making a hasty, emotional decision.”

“I can’t be any more serious,” she said in a resolved tone that convinced him she was indeed that.

He leaned forward, his breath mingling with hers, their lips so close he could feel the warmth from the inviting bow. Just a fraction of an inch and he would be kissing her.

“I was there because that’s who and what I am, Sandra,” he said, taking in her response, watching every flicker that crossed her eyes. “It’s always been what I am. And let me tell you this right now. If this is what you want. If this is what you need. Then I’m going to be the only damn man you offer your submission to.”

She sucked in her breath and held it until she was light-headed and precariously close to toppling over. His lips were so close that she could feel the harsh exhalation of his breath. She could see the determined glitter in his eyes. And for the first time, she became aware of him as something more than a friend. Her husband’s friend. Someone she’d turned to for support many times over the years.

She couldn’t even process his heated declaration, but she knew he was utterly serious. There was a glint in his eyes, a firm set to his jaw. She could see the pulse thudding at his neck and she could smell every part of him, his scent wafting tantalizingly through her nostrils.

Derrick dominant? Not that she had any difficulty in believing that of him. He was a man well accustomed to getting his way. He had a quiet authority about him. He didn’t need to be loud to get his point across. She’d been present too many times when he’d spoken and everyone had immediately quieted, listening to what he had to say.

He wasn’t someone who shouted orders. He didn’t need to. There was an intensity to him that made people aware of the power emanating from him. She hadn’t been blind to it, nor was she immune. As she’d pondered just earlier that day, in the beginning he’d intimidated her. She’d felt his concern and disapproval over how fast her relationship had progressed with Clement. But once he’d become convinced that she was the right woman for his best friend, his loyalty to her was sealed.

But his words still rang in her ears. That brusque vow. She shivered under the intensity of his gaze, those dark eyes eating her up, exposing her, making her feel vulnerable.

“I d-don’t understand,” she said helplessly, her hand lifting and then fluttering downward again as she tried to make sense of the entire evening.

And then his next words tilted her universe even further off its axis.

“I’ve waited a long damn time for you, Sandra. I thought I’d never have you, and I was okay with that because you made Clement happy and I know he made you happy. But as you said, he’s gone now, and I’ve waited. For what seems like an eternity I’ve waited for the right moment. For when you were ready. Maybe I waited too long, or perhaps now is the perfect time. But if you think I’m going to stand by and allow another man to touch what I consider mine, you’re very mistaken.”

She shook her head, overwhelmed by it all. He spoke as if he wanted her. Had wanted her for a long time. But no. That wasn’t possible. He’d never betray his best friend. Had Derrick developed feelings for her after Clement’s death? Was he simply stepping in for his best friend, wanting to take care of Clement’s widow?

She didn’t want to be an obligation to Derrick. She’d been one for far too long. Today had been about letting go. Not only of Clement but of her dependence on Derrick.