Only you | Derek Morgan

You have a monster cock

L A Y L A ' S P O V

"Please take all liquids, jewellery, electronics and wallets out of your bags before you place them in the plastic bins."

Travelling light for once with only one bag between us, Derek places our bag in the bin on the conveyor belt. We're in line at TSA ready to fly home to DC after an amazing weekend. We soaked up enough family time and newborn baby cuddles to get us through till we visit next.

But sadly, as I walk through the metal detector and I'm given the all clear, I know we're back to reality for now.

Derek walks through the metal detector after me and once he's cleared we stand to the side to wait for our bag. It moves along the conveyor belt through the monitor and surprisingly, the plastic bin with our bag gets pulled to the side for extra screening.

My brows furrow. "That's weird."

"Yeah," Derek laughs. Well, kinda. He quite literally says ha ha. "So weird."

You know what's even weirder? The fact that he seems..nervous. I suppose it's not that weird. TSA can be stressful and most people do get nervous even though you know you don't have anything in your bag. But Derek's avoiding eye contact, fidgeting and not even concentrating on me speaking to him.

"What in there? Cocaine?" I snicker, nudging his shoulder. There's not much but dirty clothes in there but Derek packed everything up when we were ready to leave so I didn't do it. I didn't think it was possible, but he looks even more nervous as the TSA agent starts scanning the crowd to see who's bag it is. My joke doesn't seem so funny anymore. I grip his arm and drop my voice. "Derek, is it?"

"What? No." Derek shakes his head dismissively, barely paying enough attention to what I was saying to catch my sarcasm. His eyes are glued to the bag as a TSA agent grabs it. "Wait here," He says, stepping towards the counter.

Fuck that. I follow right after him and just catch the end of the TSA agent asking if the bag is Derek's.

Tight lipped, Derek nods. "Yeah."

"Did you pack it yourself?" He asks and Derek nods again. "I just need do a quick check."

When he turns his back to us and starts ruffling throughout our things, I look to Derek and I swear I see an actual bead of sweat drop down the side of his face.

"What's wrong with you?" I whisper discreetly, trying not to seems too suspicious. I don't know why because if I was the TSA agent right now I would say Derek's guilty. Of what, I don't know.

"Nothing." Derek's throat bobs when he swallows harshly. His eyes are still glued to the back of the TSA agent as piles of our clothes start filling the table beside him. "It's fine."

It's not a second later that the TSA agent turns back around to us with our bag all zipped back up. "You're good. All clear," Surprisingly, his lips quirk up into a small smile when he passes the bag back into Derek's hands. His all knowing grin settles on me. "Have a nice flight."

My confusion about this conversation is drowned out by the sound beside me. If I've ever heard a sigh of relief before, it's nothing compared to what Derek let's out when he slings the bag over his shoulder somewhat frantically guiding me past the security section.

"What was that abou—"

"Want to get some coffee?" Derek slings his other arm around my shoulder. His eyes travel around the airport. "Food maybe? Shopping in duty free?"

I know he's only trying to distract me from his little nervous meltdown back there, but regardless, it's enough to grasp my attention. "Ooo. I love duty free."