𝐱. chapter eight

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insurance policy

insurance policy

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"god, you're so hot," drew mumbles as he buckles his belt back on. he watches derrielle wipe off some dripping cum from her thighs and suck her fingers clean with a smile on her face.

"yeah, i know," elle brags, chuckling at his face. sliding off the granite countertop, she stumbles a bit when she stands— her legs felt as if she just ran a 5k cross country course like she did back in high school.

"easy now," drew states, his hands automatically grabbing her arm to steady her.

"wipe that smirk off your face," she sasses, slowly bending down and grabbing her underwear off the bathroom tile.

"well, i can't help but feel responsible, i'm the reason you can't stand," he states, his smirk growing.

"no," she heaves herself back up, clutching her flimsy thong between her fingers. "no shit sherlock."

derrielle looks down at her hand, her dirty mind running wild with grotesque thoughts— of course, they are more heightened after they fucked.

maybe i'll corrupt drew. her voice boasts inside her brain. maybe she should take up on that sentence.

"what are you thinkin' elle?" drew asks, lifting her chin so his electric blue eyes can meet her amber-tinted ones.

elle's teeth catches her bottom lip, her nose scrunching a bit as she swiftly puts her underwear into his front pocket. "give them back to me later," she winks, kissing his cheek, and walking out of the bathroom.

drew stands there.
stunned.

he looks at himself in the fogged up mirror: sweat drenching him head-to-toe, an after-sex glow on his skin, his veins in his arms more prominent than before. he smiles to himself. he had a night with the most beautiful woman in the galaxy, a fucking star, and the night was still not over because then reality hit him— derrielle wasn't wearing anything.

and if he has an afterglow, she definitely does.
his star will attract so many flies.

this overprotective urge hits him like a truck.
full speed. no breaking. nothing. just an overpowering sense to reclaim her from the wandering eyes and slimy bug-like hands that may be apparent in the club.

he marches out of the bathroom, heading straight towards the bar.

"ayo! drewseph!" a voice calls out to him once he reaches the bar tender. "don't worry about getting our drinks!" austin laughs over the music as he weaves in and out of people and walks over to drew.

"sorry man, i had to go to the bathroom," he lies, not even looking at his friend. his eyes searching the booths along the bar.

"uh huh," austin nods, his voice implying that he is not fully convinced. "sorry pal, you just missed her. she's on the dance floor with someone else."

"what?" drew finally makes eye contact with his co-star. his eyebrows lifting as his demeanor changes.

"don't go all rafe-mode on me now," austin jokes, holding up his hands. "but it looks like she's trying to make you jealous," he nods over to derrielle— who's making eye contact with the boys while dancing on some unsuspecting guy.

drew chuckles, his tongue gliding over his teeth as he watches. a jealous rage growing in the pits of his heart. he knows it's just a ploy to get him down there. he knows that if he does, there's no going back— everyone will know.

curse you, derrielle johnson.

"if you don't go down, i will," a voice to the left of him says, settling down their drink and walking towards his star.

rudy. of course, it's rudy fucking pankow.

"no, no," drew replies, quickly pushing back rudy. "i'm the one she wants."

not you.
never you.

drew starkey runs his fingers through his hair as he strides over to where elle and this guy are dancing.

"thanks for keeping my girl, here, company," he states, tapping on the guy's chest. "but she doesn't need you anymore,"  on the last tap, he pushes him back.

the drunk guy stumbles a bit but finds another person to dance with. promiscuous girl begins to play considering the seventies' party hour ended.

"grinding on some guy as if you don't have my cum inside you is a pretty bold move, derry," drew states lowly in her ear as she wraps her arms around his neck.

"oh, please, you say that as if you don't love it," derrielle replies, dancing and singing along with the crowd.

"no, but, the insurance in my pocket makes me feel better," he smirks, squeezing her hips as he joins her.

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a/n:
i wanna thank -angelles for the inspiration for this chapter.
i love you and appreciate you for your support.
sorry if it's so short.
just above 800 words.
but hey, at least i updated :))
thank you for 4K, that's insane.
please remember to vote and comment. i love y'all. <333

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