Her Kind of Hero Read online

  As I waved goodbye to him from my deck, I was still disappointed but feeling little shivers as I remembered his words. I was glad that he wanted our first time to be so special. It seemed to me it would be a little anticlimactic, given all we’d already done together. But lately I’d learned he was a man worth humoring. I just needed more time to be sure it was the man I was falling for and not his companionship.

  I snickered at myself. Friends with benefits would have been so much less complicated, but less wonderful.

  Chapter Eight

  Friday went by in a rush. I was determined to not think about stalkers, laptops, photographs, or anything but Mexican food. Friday night came to find me putting on just a touch of perfume.

  I felt silly getting dolled up for someone as familiar to me as a pair of sweatpants. Still, in addition to the perfume I had on heeled boots, a skirt and some beaten silver bangle bracelets. A little lipstick, too. He’d said he wanted a real date, but I felt ridiculous until I saw the way Derek beamed at me. I hadn’t dressed up for him before. It helped that he was also dressed up, in a new shirt in a soft green that made his eyes look brighter than ever.

  On our way out, he stopped. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and spread it out on the counter. It was a map of our town. “Before I forget, sweet girl. I was going to show this to you before you knocked my socks off with how beautiful you are.”

  “Who, me?”

  He kissed the top of my head. I ducked under his arm to stand in his embrace and to get a closer look at the map. I saw two red dots on either end of the map, and a green dot in the center.

  “I got the postmarks from all of the area post offices that cancel mail. There are only three. When I cross-checked the envelopes that you received yesterday, I found two of them were from here—” he pointed at the spot, “—and the other two were from here.”

  “Two different post offices. What’s the green ink?”

  “That’s the one local post office that nothing came from. I think that’s his post office.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll bet he’s staying somewhere close to that one. He was trying to leave his own area, but by doing that, he made it more obvious.”

  I felt a rush of pride over the way Derek wasn’t giving up on this mystery. “Derek, you’re incredible. Obsessive and anal retentive, but incredible. I bet you’re right. We should give this to the detective.”

  “We’re stopping by the police station before we get our burritos.”

  The detective was as impressed by Derek as I was and thought that between my laptop, the phone number and the envelopes, we might know something very soon.

  To celebrate, and to get our minds off the stalker and back on our date, I ordered sangria with our entrees. Derek even drank a glass. That’s how I discovered he was a one-drink drunk. Okay, more like a one-drink buzz, but he was adorable. His hands were steady enough to feed me tiny bites of his food when I asked for a taste. He only trembled when I licked the fork.

  We left the restaurant arm in arm, and I was feeling very, very happy.

  “Derek, I had a fantastic time tonight.” My house was only a few blocks from the restaurant, and I was walking as slowly as I could manage without appearing to dawdle.

  “You have never looked lovelier,” he replied. “There must be something about Friday nights. Maybe this should be the new tradition.”

  “Does that mean you’re not coming over on Saturday anymore?” I tried to sound like I didn’t care.

  Derek knew me better than that. He stopped walking. “Would that bother you?”

  I looked at my boots. “Yes.”

  I felt his fingers under my chin, raising my face so he could look into my eyes. “I’m very glad that would bother you.”

  His face was so kind. I let my eyes close and my lips come open. He did not resist my invitation.

  It started gently, but the kiss picked up speed right away. In no time our tongues grew frantic, exploring and probing fiercely. My heart was hammering against my ribs so hard I thought he would feel it, pressed so close to his own. The high heels on my boots made a difference in the way our bodies fit together, and I reveled in the new sensations.

  Derek seemed more confident than ever. Certainly he wasn’t holding back even though we were in public. One of his arms was wrapped tightly around my waist. The other hand cupped my ass, just as I’d done to him a week before. I groaned and molded my body even tighter to his.

  He broke the kiss. He buried his face in my hair and sighed. I held him close, trying to catch my breath.

  “Van?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I have to ask you something. It’s very important.”

  Oh, God, he wanted to get married. My heart started pounding again, and I felt dizzy. “What’s that?”

  He took a deep breath. “I haven’t said this to anyone.”

  The warmth I’d been feeling was fleeing ahead of my terror that I was going to have to say “I love you” for the first time in years. I felt like a sixth grader trying to decide if I loved him or was in love with him or both, and it was all too complicated. All I could think of was please, say anything else but don’t get on one knee.

  “Would it be okay if, well, I mean, would you mind if…if I… Oh, God.”

  It didn’t sound like a proposal was imminent. Relief washed over me, followed by disappointment. Wait, disappointment? What?

  Through my conflicting feelings, Derek was still stumbling over himself. I stepped back and took his hands. He faced me, but he was staring over my right shoulder. “Spit it out, dear man. It can’t be that big a deal.”

  “I haven’t done it before.”

  I shook my head. “What?”

  “I…haven’t…had…sex. With anyone.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Damn it, Vanessa!”

  He dropped my hand. I snatched it back before he could get away from me. “Wait, Derek. Listen to me. Listen to me, idiot! Is it really so bad that I’m having trouble believing you’re a virgin after the last two weeks?”

  He looked directly at me. I prayed that I could keep my incipient belly laugh from erupting. He looked so vulnerable, and I was still feeling hot and bothered from his kiss just moments before. A virgin? Really? Derek sighed and put his arm around me. “Sorry. But there it is. The big secret. I hope…” He trailed off.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “Honestly? I thought you’d have guessed by now and I wouldn’t have to say anything. I haven’t had a serious girlfriend since I met you.”

  He had a point. I certainly hadn’t thought about what that might mean, and I wasn’t sure how to react. “Well, I know you haven’t been dating anyone in the last two years, except for all of our not-date dating.” I made a face at him, and he laughed a little too loudly.

  “Yeah, I’ve been busy with this crazy girl who thinks gutters clean themselves.”

  “You cleaned them out before I had a chance to get out the ladder.”

  “Sure.”

  “But I wasn’t watching you every weekend while I was married. You could have been off raising hell the whole time.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Well, you could have. People have strange double lives all the time.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you. I’m not much for casual flings. Once I meet someone and develop feelings for them, I can’t settle for less.” He gave me a meaningful look.

  I let that one go by. “It does explain some things, like how weird you were over a little come. But it doesn’t explain how you’ve got the most fantastic tongue I ever encountered.”

  “I have a vivid imagination.”

  “Well, I still say that the evidence you were giving me was practically a unanimous vote in favor of experience.”

  Without any warning, Derek picked me up and hugged me tightly. “Vanessa, I am so relieved you’re not freaking out right now.”

  I had a sudden thought. “Nope. But now let’s hurry
.”

  “What?”

  I grinned up at him. “Come on.” I took off down the sidewalk toward my house, dragging him with me.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Who’s thinking?”

  “You are!”

  “Maybe a little,” I drawled.

  “I don’t think I like it when you get that look on your face.”

  I got him inside the house and locked the door behind him. “I’m thinking of something that hasn’t crossed your mind yet.”

  “What’s that?”

  I reached up and twirled a lock of his hair between my fingers. “If you’re a virgin, and I’ve only been with one person in the last fifteen years… We don’t need to use condoms.”

  His eyes lit up, but he didn’t move. “What about pregnancy? You’re not—”

  “Can’t happen.”

  “But the last time, when we almost—”

  “Derek, Derek, Derek. It’s a long, boring explanation involving math and calendars, and I promise you that I’ll give you the information later. I’ll even let you build a spreadsheet with it. Later. Not now. Tonight you cannot get me pregnant and we are going upstairs.”

  “If you—”

  “Now.”

  He gave up.

  Once in my bedroom, I lit some candles. I turned away from my dresser to see him smiling at me. “What are you thinking, Der?”

  “You look beautiful in that outfit.”

  “Why, thank you.” I bent down to unzip the boots.

  “Leave them on.”

  Our eyes met. He pulled me close and picked up the kiss where we’d left it out on the street. His hands were shaking, a barely noticeable quiver. I noticed it only because I, too, was shaking. He may have been a virgin, but I hadn’t had sex in a very long time. I hadn’t had sex with anyone besides Luke in even longer. I hoped it wouldn’t show. If Derek had been saving himself for me, I wanted him to feel like it had been worthwhile.

  Derek always seemed to know what I was feeling. “Sit over there, by that thing,” he whispered, pointing across the room.

  “That’s a vanity. It’s for putting on makeup and perfume, admiring yourself before a date, that kind of thing,” I babbled.

  “So sit in front of it.”

  I did, with him still standing behind me. My vanity had a tall three-way mirror. He and I were reflected endlessly, along with hundreds of candle flames. The light was soft and gentle, and for a moment I saw us as college seniors. Our lives stretched out endlessly before us.

  His hands went to my shoulders. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation of his strong, patient fingers sliding over the black satin of my blouse. He did a thorough job of the massage, handling the connecting muscles near my neck and back until I was relaxed and purring with delight.

  I looked up at him when his hands stopped moving. “My turn?”

  “No, not yet, Van.” He smiled at me. He slid his hands down my arms, letting his fingers trail along. The light, teasing touch brought back my feeling of anticipation. I stretched my spine upward and shivered.

  He brought his hands back to my shoulders. His thumbs rubbed along the muscle, then over the curves down to my collarbone. His fingertips brushed the tops of my breasts. I sucked in my breath. I was trying to let him lead, considering what his admission might have cost him. The featherlike touch of his fingers over my blouse left hot trails of sensation in their wake, and it was all I could do to not grab his hands.

  Instead I watched him in the mirror. He was watching me, no longer smiling, his face tense with desire. His touch became more deliberate. His left hand traced my left breast in a slow circle, and when he was done with that, his right hand traced the same pattern on my right breast. Both hands reached for the row of buttons. He started at the top, working his way down so gradually that each button sliding out of its hole gave me a tiny thrill.

  He brushed the sides of the blouse away from my chest. My red lace bra looked dark and dramatic in the dim light. Still watching me in the mirror, he resumed his alternating circles around my breasts. He spiraled in toward my nipples and then away. I could feel the warmth between my legs, but I didn’t move.

  The circles grew tight and small. He scraped his fingernail across the lace-covered tip of one breast then the other. My nipples had been erect since his first teasing touch, but from this direct assault they tightened so suddenly that they almost hurt. I cried out and arched my back.

  Derek’s hands cupped my breasts and squeezed, pulling me firmly against his torso. The strength and power in the gesture added to the pressure building in my pussy.

  I couldn’t stand it anymore. I stood, turned and tried to take his new shirt off. The buttonholes were stiff. I was going to snap the buttons off, but he helped me instead.

  “Greedy, greedy,” he teased.

  “Told you I was getting you short-sleeved shirts, anyway. This may be new, but it still doesn’t show off your arms.”

  With his chest bare, I sighed in appreciation. I put my hands on his perfect abs and slid them up, up over his broad pectorals and down his biceps. I leaned forward and kissed the depressions made by his nipples. Against my tongue I felt them stiffen like tiny pearls. My lips moved to his sternum, and then down the bumps of his stomach muscles.

  I felt his hands under my arms, lifting me. I looked up, and he shook his head at me. “Not this time.”

  “Tell me what you want instead, Derek.”

  He didn’t answer, but he pulled me gently over to my bed. He stood between me and the mattress and paused.

  I kissed him, hard. I laced my fingers together and buried my hands in his hair to keep him close to me. His tongue sought out mine, reaching out as eagerly as his cock. The hard length of him felt good against me, with a promise of joys to come.

  The kiss slowed down a little when he reached for the clasp on my bra. He fumbled with it, and the fumbling only increased when he tried to use both hands. For a minute I felt like I was fifteen in the back of a Camaro.

  I reached back and snapped it open. “Takes years of practice. I’ll show you the trick later.”

  He pulled my shirt down off my arms and followed it with the straps of my bra. “Trick or treat?”

  “Something like that.”

  Both of us were bare from the waist up. I threw myself at him, and the force carried us both onto my bed. The bulge of his cock hit just the right spot for me. I groaned and kissed him again.

  He met me with equal fierceness, sucking and nibbling my lower lip in between plunges with his hot wet tongue. I squirmed and slid along his body. Skin against skin felt amazing.

  We rolled over, his arms tightly around my waist. I looked up at him. His hair was out of place, and his lips looked wet and full. I felt him pull back his hips, and then rock them forward. It was the most overtly sexual thing he’d ever done. I spread my thighs wider apart to welcome him.

  He moved again, and again. I was wet and panting. “Please, Der. I want you.”

  He got back to his feet. I whimpered and reached for him. He was trying to get his belt unfastened, and this time he was the one who would gladly have broken something rather than take any more time. He moaned with relief when he got his pants and briefs off.

  By candlelight, he was stunning. A light sheen of sweat allowed the flames to throw highlights on his magnificent body. His torso and thighs could have been carved from marble, making him look like a superhero. He was even better than my wildest fantasy.

  I felt my clit tense up at the sight of his penis. It was still as perfect as the rest of him, hard and smooth. It was moving in time with his heavy breathing. Another gush of wetness came when I thought about what was next.

  “You’re beautiful, Vanessa. Your hair, all spread out, the way you’re looking at me.”

  “I’m still wearing my boots. And my skirt.”

  He grinned. “I know. It’s hot.”

  “I’m also still wearing panties.”

  “Let’s fi
x that, shall we?”

  I lifted my hips to help him slide them off. A groan escaped him at the gesture.

  “What are you thinking now, Der?”

  “Your helping that way gets me going, knowing you want this as much as I do.” He slid the front of my skirt up and exposed me to his hungry gaze. He put his hands on my legs and pushed up, running his thumbs along the soft skin of my inner thighs. He parted my damp curls and used his thumb to spread the moisture from my vagina to my clit.