Fries Before Guys (SWAT Generation 2.0 2)

That was where I was at—not shaving my legs—when I got a text message.

Ignoring it, I finished up my shower, dried off with an impressively fluffy towel for a man, and getting dressed as best as I could.

Which consisted of me putting on a bra—a real one at that. Not even a sports bra that I usually wore. Derek’s SWAT zip-up hoodie, and a pair of his sweatpants.

I was exhausted by the time that I was done, meaning that drying my hair was so not happening.

Finally, once I was in Derek’s recliner once again, I read my message from Derek.

D: gonna be a long night. Some guy’s chosen to hold up an FBI office. Only way in or out of the place is through the front room, and the guy’s got enough ammo to hold a six-month-long siege.

I didn’t bother to reply.

Replying took energy. Energy required food.

And I was just too exhausted to find anything other than the measly sandwich that did nothing to appease my hunger.

Therefore, I passed out right there on the chair, straight up and down, and didn’t move until Derek arrived home well after four the next morning.

I woke to him lifting me up and carrying me bridal style into his bedroom.

He was dressed all in black, so it was hard for me to make out anything other than his shockingly blond hair that almost looked like it was glowing in the moonlight that was cast through the window blinds.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” he asked.

I allowed my head to rest against his arm and muttered out a, “Nope.”

“Good,” he said. “You didn’t look at all comfortable.”

I yawned and closed my hand around his wrist, or tried to. The man had a massive wrist.

“I took a shower,” I said. “And I ripped all the padding out from underneath my halo’s brace. I need to put it back in. But your sweatshirt is doing a sufficient job holding it in place.”

He made a rumbling sound in his throat that caused his chest to vibrate.

“I couldn’t shave my legs,” I commented. “I might be able to tomorrow, but today it wasn’t happening. I also used two pieces of bread, four pieces of turkey, some mustard and a slice of cheese. I was hungry and couldn’t wait.”

He chuckled, once again causing his chest to vibrate.

I closed my eyes and only opened them again when I felt the softness of a bed beneath my body and pillows beneath my head.

I groaned. “Why is your stuff so ridiculously soft?”

He grunted out a, “Have no fuckin’ clue,” and went back to covering me up.

I expected him to leave altogether.

But just as I was once again falling into sleep, I felt the bed dip beside me.

My eyes shot open like he’d poured cold water all over me.

“What are you doing?” I found myself squeaking.

“Going to bed,” he answered, moving until his heat was near me, but not completely touching.

I swallowed hard. Then tried to tell myself to calm down. That this wasn’t a big deal.

That sleeping in bed, next to Derek Roberts, wasn’t as big of a deal as I was making it out to be.

Only, I couldn’t calm my racing heart down.

Not when he finally fell asleep, snoring softly.

Not when he rolled over so that his knee was pressing against the side of my ass.

And definitely not when his hand slid over to press against my belly, sneaking under his sweatshirt and coming to a rest just above my pubic bone.

It was then, at five oh five in the morning, that I knew I wouldn’t be getting any more sleep.

By seven fifty-five, I had to find a way out of bed.

By ten that morning, bladder screaming, I knew that I was fucked.

Even after rocking hard enough to wake him, him helping me up, and then immediately going back to bed, I knew that I was a goner.

Derek Roberts was going to break my heart.

I just knew it.Chapter 10-Single

-Taken

X Hungry AF.

-Avery to Derek

Avery

I was released from the hospital three days after my arrival and now, on the sixth day since my halo brace had been put on, I was going back to school.

“If you need me, call me,” Derek ordered softly.

There was need, and then there was need.

After spending the last three days in his bed, with him all up on me, I was well on the verge of spontaneous combustion.

I’d never been so happy for it to be a Monday, and a school day, before today.

“Yes, sir.” I scrunched up my nose at him.

He rolled his eyes and got out of the cruiser, walking around to my side of the vehicle and opening the door.

I rolled my eyes at his overprotectiveness and got out, looking down at my backpack that was on the floorboard.

“I’ll get it,” he said as he gently swept me to the side.