Seeing Him Again Pt. 01

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I stood in front of the utilitarian dresser in my hotel room and tugged at the bottom hem of my royal blue crop top. I had spent over a year dieting and working out to get in shape for this weekend, but that didn’t change my personality. I was still uncomfortable in such a revealing outfit.

My friends and I had flown to California for a four-day weekend at the world-renowned San Diego Comic Con. Rose, my best friend, who had chosen to go as Wonder Woman, sat on the bed adjusting her cuff bracelets. My sister, Eve, had made her own “Hipster Harley Quinn” costume and was perched on the edge of the only chair in the room as she wove her long hair into pigtail braids. We had decided to rent separate rooms so that we didn’t smother ourselves in togetherness. As usual, I was the last one to be ready, so Rose and Eve had stormed into my room and forced me into my costume.

I was reluctant to deviate from my typical jeans and t-shirt garb, but my friends had whittled me down with their well-reasoned, logical points like ‘We didn’t come all this way for nothing’ and ‘This trip has already cost us a lot of money.’

“Stop fussing with your costume, Steph,” Rose called to me, leaning over sideways to look around my body and scowl at me in the mirror.

“I’m trying,” I insisted. “I’m just not used to wearing tiny clothes.”

Rose stood and strode over to the dresser. She gestured at my body, sweeping her hand down from my head to my feet. “That isn’t tiny. That’s amazing.”

I inspected my reflection and looked at each part of my costume individually. I had chosen Supergirl and, when confronted by nearly a dozen different costume variations, I had gone with the long-sleeved crop top emblazoned with the Kryptonian symbol of hope that had a knee-length red cape attached at the shoulders, a red pleated mini-skirt that sat low on my hips, and knee-high red patent leather boots. Eve had lightened my hair from it’s natural medium brown to a bright platinum blonde that I was still not used to. The smokey gray eyeshadow that she had swept over my lids made my blue eyes stand out even more against my fair skin.

“You worked so hard to get this body,” Rose said, playfully pinching my side. “Show it off, girl!” I giggled and hugged her.

Eve climbed to her feet and came to stand beside us. “If we don’t leave now, we’ll get stuck in a massive line,” she said in her husky voice.

I checked the time on my phone then tucked it into the waistband of my skirt at my hip. “Well let’s get this show on the road.”

When finally got to the convention center across the street, we quickly joined in the small line that had already formed at the entrance. While we waited to be let into the building, we chatted with a cluster of people in front of us who were dressed as Power Rangers. They were from Holland and the group behind us had come from New York. After about twenty minutes, employees from the convention opened the doors. A cheer went up from the group as everyone rushed to get in.

We stopped at every table and booth we encountered. I was actually grateful that I had left my wallet in the hotel room and wasn’t able to buy anything. Otherwise I would have been trying to carry home thousands of dollars in collectables. The hall wasn’t as crowded as I had expected. Years ago, I had attended a comic book convention in my hometown and because it was held in a hotel ballroom, rather than a convention center, everyone was practically walking on top of each other. Here we had room to breathe and move.

I had never been to Comic Con before and it was a lot to take in. Thousands of people in dressed as every imaginable version of so many pop culture characters that I thought that the event coordinators should consider renaming it. People were dressed as characters from comic books, of course, but there were also characters from video games, Disney movies, and sci-fi tv shows. Some costumes were clearly homemade and slapdash at best, but others looked as they had been professionally made. I thought I was pushing it for having spent $100 on my getup and here I was surrounded by people who had spent several hundred, if not several thousand dollars on their costumes. For some people, cosplay is life.

As we made our way around the central space, we stopped at a snack stand to grab some munchies. I promised my sister I would pay her back and she bought me a soft pretzel and a soda. As I happily accepted my food from the smiling vendor and turned to head towards the tables, a painfully familiar voice over my shoulder nearly made me jump out of my skin.

“Hey, Belle.”

I froze. I felt my eyes go wide and my jaw almost dropped onto the floor. Quickly shutting my eyes, I took a moment to compose myself then slowly turned to face the man who had spoken. I found myself face to face with someone whom I thought I would never see again. But there he was, live in living color, Derek, my ex fiance. We hadn’t seen or spoken to each other since I had broken off our engagement çiğli escort over four years ago. I was actually a bit afraid that he would start screaming, but I was just as hotheaded as he was so it was also just as likely that I would be the one screaming.

“Hey,” I mumbled. I looked up at him and allowed my gaze to wander his tall, thin body. He was wearing his beloved TIE-fighter pilot costume. It covered him from head to toe in solid black. The monotony of his clothing was broken up only by the various textures of each piece.

“Gods, you look great,” he breathed. “How have you been?”

“Um, I’ve been alright. You?”

“Fine. How are the kids?”

“They’re good.”


Derek did something highly unusual for him: he shuffled his feet and looked at the floor. He suddenly looked much younger than his mid-thirties, even younger than he was when we met fourteen years ago He looked so vulnerable and…cute. Ever since the day we met, when I was just seventeen, I had always thought of him as hot, sexy, alluring, and all those other adjectives that summed up carnal desire in one word, but I couldn’t recall a single moment in which I had thought of him as cute. Usually it took all of my inner strength to summon the residual contempt I had for him in order to not throw myself at him and start taking off my clothes. He had that affect on me. No matter how much time passes, no matter how much we have hurt each other over the years, I still felt a visceral urge to wrap myself in his arms The sexual tension between us burned like napalm. But today, watching him shuffling his feet like a schoolboy was deeply unsettling.

“Have you seen Beauty and the Beast?” Derek asked, his voice soft and unsure.


“Good.” He nodded slowly as if he were trying to think of what to say next. “Have you seen-“

“-the new Star Wars movies? Yes.” I scowled up at him. “Are you seriously trying to make small talk right now?”

His face instantly changed as if someone had slid a wet rag across a chalkboard. His nervous, soft eyes were suddenly piercing and angry. I fought not to roll my eyes. I’d struck a nerve.

“I was trying to,” he said, annoyance clear in his voice. “It isn’t unreasonable to assume that we might be able to have a pleasant conversation like mature adults.”

I smirked. “‘Mature’ isn’t a word I’d use to describe our conversations,” I told him, pursing my lips.

Derek rolled his eyes. “You’re right,” he said through a grimace. “I forgot what dealing with you is like.” Planting his heel in the garishly-patterned carpet, he turned away.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” I said to the back of his shirt. He stopped mid-stride and I could see his shoulders tense under the heavy black fabric. Years of bickering with Derek had me prepared for him to immediately fire back an obnoxious retort, but he seemed to be mulling over his choices. Finally, he sighed and turned to face me with an expression of tired annoyance etched into his angular features. With one stride, he was suddenly standing in front of me. He held his arms stiffly at his sides and his hands were balled into fists, almost as if he were fighting to not touch me.

“It means, Stephanie,” he said softly, flicking his dark eyes down at my arms folded across my chest, “that I can always count on you to act like a petulant child whenever we interact.”

I glared at up him. “Don’t patronize me.”

Derek shrugged one shoulder. “It’s a true statement.”

“No, it isn’t,” I insisted. “Every time I talk to you, you’re either manipulative or condescending, and frankly I’m tired of it. You always do everything you can to get me into your bed again and when that doesn’t work you talk down to me! No matter how much time passes, you always treat me like a child!”

“It is not my fault that you always act like a child!”

“Yes it is!” My voice raised sharply in volume and pitch.

Derek seized my upper arm and yanked me forward. My breasts pressed into his firm chest. I bit my tongue in an attempt to stem the rush of tingles that swept through my body. “Keep your voice down!” he hissed. “Now is neither the time nor the place to discuss this.”

I wrenched my arm away and took a step back. “Now is the perfect time to discuss this,” I hissed. “It’s now or never because after today, it’s extremely unlikely that we will ever see each other again.” I crossed my arms over my chest again and shifted my weight onto one hip. “But…I agree that it’s a bit inappropriate to have a shouting match in the middle of all these people.”

I retrieved my phone from the waistband of my skirt, sent a quick ‘Headed back to my room. TTYL’ text to my friends, and stowed the phone. Tossing my hair back over my shoulder, I locked eyes with my ex.

“I have a room in the hotel across the street,” I told him.

Derek scoffed. “So?”

“So if you have anything else to say, I suggest you tag along.” I shrugged. “Otherwise, feel free foça escort to stay here and throw away your only chance to say everything you’ve been holding back all these years.”

My statement was met with a look of defiance. I shrugged again. “Have it your way then.” I stepped close to him, hooking a finger through one of his front belt loops and giving it a light tug. Derek inadvertently leaned towards me, pressing his hips forward as his lips neared mine. My heart raced as he breathed slowly against my neck.

“I’ll be in room 315 for the rest of the weekend,” I whispered.

Abruptly, I released the little bit of fabric, spun on my heel, and swept out of the exhibition hall without looking back.

The heels of my knee-high red leather boots made a distinct dull clicking as I stomped across the closed street and through the travertine lobby of the hotel. My heart was racing and my nerves tingled with anxious energy. I fought the urge to hold my cape with both hands and swing it around behind me as I strode to the elevators. But once I was inside an empty elevator and it’s brushed steel doors slid closed, I was suddenly alone with my thoughts and my demeanor quickly changed.

What would Derek say when we were alone? Would he even show up? Would I end up sleeping with him? That’s usually what happened whenever we were alone together. Well it wasn’t going to happen this time! I hadn’t let him talk me into bed in over nine years and I wasn’t about to let that change now.

My hand was shaking slightly as I swiped my key card and entered my room. Get it together, girl, I told myself. It’s not like I just invited to my hotel room the one person with whom I’d had an always passionate, often volatile love affair off and on for over a decade. Oh wait…

The door swung heavily shut behind me as I staggered over to the sleeping area. I spun on my red patent leather heel and flopped backwards onto the stiff queen-sized bed. Swatting my hair away from my face, I stared up at the ceiling and brooded. My mind tripped over itself racing from one scenario to another as I furiously contemplated what might happen. I flung one arm over my eyes and began to settle into the awful mattress, but a sudden knock at the door snatched my attention.

Grumbling, I reluctantly dragged myself to my feet. Whoever was at the door must have been impatient, judging by the second, firmer knock.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” I muttered as I shuffled towards the door.

I twisted the knob, pulled it open, and was immediately looking directly at the starched collar of a black button-down shirt.

“I’m here,” Derek announced in a low voice. “Start talking.”

I staggered back a couple steps and he followed me into the dimly lit room. The door closed behind him with a softly echoing thunk.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asked, stopping just inside the doorway.

“Well, I-“

“Never mind. I’ll talk.” He took a deep breath and what came next spilled out of his full lips in a tangled rush of emotion. “You were right: I have a lot to say to you that I’ve been holding back a long time. But the jist of it is I hate you. I hate the way you make me feel. Every time I see you, it’s like my mind can’t decide whether to kiss you or cry. I hate that I’m still in love with you after all these years, after everything you’ve put me through.”

I slowly reached for him, but he pulled away.

“Don’t touch me, bitch!”


Derek held up a hand. “No. After what you did, I’ve earned the right to say that to your face.”

I squared my shoulders and nodded. “Fair enough.” I waited for him to say something else, but the growing silence hung in the air like cascading smoke after a fireworks show. Finally I broke the tension by venturing “That’s not all, is it?”

Derek stepped backwards just enough until he backed into the nearest wall. He shoved his long, thin fingers into his thick, dark hair and rested his elbows on his chest, covering his face with his forearms. He slouched against the wall, shoulders hunched, and when he spoke, his voice was soft with an edge of old pain.

“I hate that every time I see you I want to kiss you so badly that I can barely hold it back,” he murmured. “I have to bite my lip and clench my teeth just to keep from kissing you… I hate that just hearing your voice makes me want to fuck you so much that my cock actually hurts from trying to bore its way through the front of my jeans… I hate that I have to dig my nails into my palms to keep from touching you.”

Derek lowered his arms and held out his hands, revealing faint crescent marks in his palms. I cautiously stepped towards him and took his hands in mine. He stared resolutely at the floor.

“Derek, I’m so sorry. I-“

“‘Sorry’ fixes nothing,” he said bitterly.

I took a step back. “Well it’s a hell of a lot more than I’ve ever got from you,” I bit out.

He lifted his head and glared at me, snatching his hands izmir escort away. “I have apologized for what I did,” he said, striding over to the dresser. “You were just too busy blaming me for everything that’s ever gone wrong in your life to notice.”

“Fuck you, Derek,” I muttered, stepping past him.

He grinned suddenly. “What, you don’t say ‘please’ anymore?”

I smiled in spite of myself. “I said ‘fuck you,’ not ‘fuck me.'”

Derek’s grin widened. He reached for me and I tried to sidestep him, but he caught the hem of my skirt with both hands. Holding tight to the red pleats, he pulled me close, deftly slid one hand behind my head, and kissed me. My lips inadvertently parted for his tongue as I felt myself start to melt into my boots. He took a couple steps forward and the sharp pain of my lower spine colliding with the edge of the dresser brought me to my senses. My eyes flew open and I jerked back.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?!” I demanded.

He looked at me with desire burning deep in his dark brown eyes. “You’re right…” he said after along pause. Derek released me and turned away. “I should go,” he said over his shoulder.

Making a heat of the moment decision, I lunged forward and grabbed his wrist. Derek slowly turned to face me with an expression that was halfway between longing and puzzled. I quickly seized his collar with both hands and yanked him into a kiss. In an instant, his arms were around me and my hands were in his hair as we kissed hungrily. We stumbled towards the dresser and I let out a startled gasp of pain when I crashed into it. Derek’s hands swept down my lower back, over my ass, and to my thighs as he lifted me off my feet and sat me down on top of the dresser. One hand found it’s way into the back of my hair while the other tightly gripped my thigh. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. He broke our kiss to tilt his head to the side and press his soft lips into the sensitive skin behind my ear.

“For the record,” he mumbled against my neck, “I did not come here for this.”


I turned my head and, with both hands on the back of Derek’s neck, dragged him back into a passionate kiss. Suddenly the hand in my hair closed into a tight fist and yanked hard, pulling my head to the side. In a flash, Derek leaned in and his teeth sank into the soft curve between the side of my neck and the peak of my shoulder. A sharp cry of pain fell from my lips, followed by a moan of intense pleasure. I threw back my head and arched my back, pressing my breasts into his chest. As he leaned into me, he pushed his hips forward, grinding the growing hardness in his jeans into the increasingly damp center between my thighs. I pulled his shirt hem free from his jeans and slipped my hand underneath the supple fabric at the front. I waited until he moved to kiss me again then I dug my nails into his chest and dragged my hand down from collarbone to hip.

Derek inhaled sharply through his teeth and one long hand was suddenly wrapped loosely around my throat.

“Did I give you permission to do that?” he asked in a low, dangerous tone.

I gave him a challenging grin. “No…”

“No, what…?”

I smiled defiantly and held my lips tightly closed.

With his other hand, Derek yanked the lower edge of my crop top upwards, exposing the black cotton bra underneath. He jerked the front of my bra down and my breasts spilled out. My nipples instantly tightened in the cool air. The underwire of my bra dug uncomfortably into my ribs and I squirmed.

“Say it,” he purred into my ear as he gingerly cupped one soft breast. He bent forward and locked eyes with me as he flicked his tongue across the taught nipple. I moaned softly and shook my head. Derek raised an eyebrow as he straightened up, caressing my breast with his fingertips. He brushed his thumb across my nipple over and over again until I was resting my head against his shoulder and moaning loudly. He slid the hand at my throat around to the back of my neck and clasped a fistful of hair. In one swift motion, he yanked the handful of hair to one side, caught my nipple between his thumb and the second knuckle of his forefinger and twisted it hard in the opposite direction. I gasped sharply and cried out from the sudden sweet pain, but I still didn’t say the word he wanted to hear.

“Come on, Belle,” Derek whispered against my neck as he twisted my nipple hard from one side to the other. “Say the magic word, baby.”

“Make me,” I murmured into his ear.

He suddenly released me and took a step back. Derek’s hands roamed my torso, massaging my breasts and tracing up and down my abdomen. He pushed my skirt up to my hips and grasped the waistband of my panties with both hands at the side seam. The crimson fabric gave with a rasping tear and he pushed it aside, exposing my slick center. I let my head rest back against the dresser mirror and my eyes drifted closed. I felt him slip one long finger into my channel and I moaned a sigh. He kissed along my collarbone as he withdrew the finger then slid two deep inside. I gripped his shoulders for balance as he thrust his fingers in hard. My ragged breathing became loud moans as his hand moved faster and his fingers flicked upwards into that sweet spot.

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