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"that's half correct," derrielle's face start to burn. she hasn't felt this way in such a long time. god, what is he doing to her? "it's actually up to the production team, jonas pate, and all that," she states, arching her back against the sage-green arm and twisting her shoulders to blow out her candle.
during her movement, it became clear that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. drew couldn't tear his pelting gaze from her nipples creating silhouettes in the increasingly dark night— how the fabric rose and then quickly fell off the perky cliffs and then pooled to the north side of the rib cage.
gripping the rough fabric of the couch cushion, drew sighs through his nose. a frustrating pain forms in his plaid bottoms. who knew the writer could be such a well-played tease? a professional actress succeeding at the rehearsal without even knowing she's in the play.
or does she?
closing his eyes momentarily, his mind couldn't help but imagine the breasts bouncing grotesquely while she's on top; his thighs pummeling back up into her when she can't handle the pleasure; his hand on her throat as her pretty lips slip out a few praises in the midst of moaning; his hands all over her as she bites on his earlobe when she cu—
"besides," elle speaks again, turning back around, snapping drew out of his lustful fantasy. her hair swaying as the smoke behind rises into nothing. "if you act like you did at the reading today, there's nothing to worry about."
"yeah," he nods, shrugging, "yeah, you're right. i guess it's just my nerves."
"well, mister starkey, i'm always right," she points her finger at him. her fingers throw the blanket on the boy, before she stands up and walks towards the kitchenette for something to eat.
"teach me your ways, miss johnson," drew begs sarcastically. his hands coming together to plead.
derrielle chuckles at him, rolling her eyes as she turns around and reaches up to the snack cabinet. the hem of her grape-colored shirt raises as she stands on her tippy-toes, revealing her luscious thighs to drew.
"you gotta be shitting me," he mumbles lowly under his breath.
"did you say something?" elle looks over her right shoulder, biting her bottom lip as she hides her all-knowing smirk.
"uh, you need any help?" he lies through his teeth, his back leaning off the cushion pillow as he gets ready to help her.
"no," she shakes her head, finally grabbing her trail mix bag. "rule number two, don't underestimate me." her voice hinting to an answer to that thought inside his head.
by the way, as long as we're all on the same page here: derrielle conveniently missed the trail mix bag. she didn't have to use her tippy-toes to reach for them. she didn't have to arch her back a certain way to blow out that candle.
she's a romance novel-lover— any book novice could tell that she knows what she's doing, just by the acotar series is displayed on her dining table.
"are you allergic to anything?" she asks, turning back around and placing the bag on the counter.
"nope," he shakes his head, his dimples returning in his smile. "i know, i'm so boring at the doctor's office."
"yeah, i can see that," she nods, putting the trail mix into medium size bowl.
"what's that supposed to mean?" drew pouts his lip and his arms cross in front of him as if he is a child one stage away from a tantrum.
"well, with a name like drew, could you blame me for thinkin' that way?" she chuckles at his act, sitting back down in her seat, a bit closer to him. "want some?" she offers, holding out the bowl.
"hate to break it to you, rielle, but," he pinches some trail mix and drops them into his mouth. "uh, my real name's joseph."
"ugh! even worse!"
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the morning after is always a little bit hazy.
you know that groggy feeling where you just want to be alone from everyone and sleep in your own bed— even though you had the time of your life the night before?
waking up on drew's chest is different than that. both parties don't want to leave. and even though they feel asleep a couple of hours ago, they don't feel groggy— they feel rejuvenated.
derrielle nuzzles into his cotton-covered chest, soft and hard at the same time. she squints open her eyes to see her on her side, on top of him, wrapped in her softest blanket.
drew's hand resting on the mid of her back, while the other is holding on to her right calf as it is strewn across his waist. his breathing is somewhat stuffy, almost as if he's snoring.
"cute," she whispers, smiling to herself, as she unfortunately pulls away.
even in his sleep, he groans from the loss of contact.
"joeyyy," she whispers, shaking him slightly. nothing.
"jo-jo, let's a go-go," she says softly, chuckles to herself as she shakes him harder. nothing, but a few mumbles of 'no' coming from his plump lips.
"drew!" she says louder, almost to the tone of yelling.
"i'm up!" he replies, startling her as he quickly sits up from the comfiest couch ever. "i'm up, derry, i'm up," he spurts out another nickname, rubbing his eyes. "shit," he looks down at her, "what time is it?"
"uh, only six-forty," she whispers, scooting back and shuffling off his lap. "but you should get going, breakfast is at seven-thirty."
"uh, right," drew nods, getting off the couch and placing her blanket back on her. "i'll see you later, alligator."
she scoffs, blushing under his gaze again, "get the fuck outta here."
he laughs at her reply, still grouchy as ever.
walking out of her trailer, the sun hadn't even shown its face and, yet, drew felt the need to hide.
too bad, nick cirillo saw him from his trailer window next door.
