Only you | Derek Morgan

Freckle and Speckle

L A Y L A ' S P O V

My Saturday is off to the right start.

For my birthday Averie got me a gift voucher for a spa that I finally got around to using today so I spent all afternoon getting pampered with everything from a full body massage, a facial, a manicure and pedicure, finished off with a trip to the sauna.

I don't know what type of witchcraft they do to that cucumber water and soothing music but my mind and muscles are relaxed, refreshed and ready for the weekend.

I'm not even out the door yet and I already know I'll be back and I tell my masseuse just that as she guides me to the exit.

She smiles brightly back at me. I'm not naive to the fact that she's not all that excited about seeing me again, but rather the hefty tip I just placed in her hands. I don't care. A win is a win.

Thankfully, the weather is finally start to pick up here and it's sunny and eighty degrees when I make it outside. My eyes scan the parking lot and I find Derek in his truck parked by the curb waiting to pick me up.

"Hey," He grins when I pull open the door. He leans over and kisses my lips when I slide into the passenger seat. "How was it?"

"So relaxing," I sigh contently when I drop my bag by my feet and smile thankfully when he places a fresh iced coffee in my hands. "It's definitely going to become a monthly thing. You should come with me next time."

Derek chuckles after he takes a sip from his own coffee before he places it down in the centre holder. "Won't you get jealous seeing another girls hands all over me?" He asks teasingly, throwing the car into reverse.

Derek likes to do this, saying things like this to try to get at me and have me itching with jealousy. I have to admit he's good at it, but I'm better.

"Not really," I shrug half heartedly, turning slightly towards the window to hide my smirk. "You just heard about how a guys hands were all over me and you weren't jealous."

My masseuse was a woman as I requested because even in a completely professional manor, I'd never let another man touch me like that. It's disrespectful and I respect Derek and our relationship too much to even let that become an issue. But I'm not above lying about it to push his buttons.

The car comes to a screeching halt.

I cast him a tentative look to find him staring at me blankly. He blinks once. Then twice. Three times before finally chokes out a low, "Excuse me?"

I try so hard to keep a straight face. "I said he—"

"He. He?" Derek repeats with almost a sadistic laugh. His jaw clenches, the veins on his forearms popping out from how hard he's gripping the steering wheel. "It was a guy?"

"Derek, he's a trained professional." How far is too far? .. a little more. "He knew what he was doing." Push, push, push. "He even spent extra long on my sciatic area. Said it was really tight."

Derek turns to look out the front windscreen and his eyes darken at the building in front of us. His fists clench around the steering wheel, veins popping out of his forearms. The silence in the car is deafening, but his rage is audible.

I should definitely tell him that I'm kidding now, but the toxic part of me finds his possessive jealousy so hot. Is that bad? Probably.

Derek reaches to undo his seatbelt. "Text Hotch and tell him I won't be at work Monday."