“What?” I play innocent but know it has to do with the sudden bulge in his pants.
He rolls his eyes and grabs his cup, chugging it down, ending his game.
“Well, since Dex is out now.” Julian snorts and picks up his red solo throwing it back, also ending his game. “I'm going to hit the head.” He gets up from the table and Mel stands, going after him, calling him a slacker for giving up too.
“What did you do that for?”
“Because I think I need more shots, and you could use some food.” Dex lifts me in his arms bridal style making me yelp. I throw my arms around his neck and he carries me to the kitchen.
The party has emptied out, and Dex is carrying me on his back up the stairs. “Giddy up horsey,” I tease, as he gallops up the final steps. We might be twenty-four, but I think there will always be a part of us that act like giant kids, lost in our childhood, especially after shots of tequila.
And shots of Vodka and Rum and so on….
When we get to the hallway, he puts me down on my feet. My fingers trace the eternity necklace he gave me. “I love this.”
“I'm glad. Happy Birthday, Meadow.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and his dazzling brown eyes lock with mine.
“Thanks.” My lips dry with the words and my tongue darts out to wet them.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, leaning into me, and I’m taken by surprise when he kisses me.
And not like any chaste kiss we've shared before. No, this is full possessive, needy, and demanding, as his tongue swirls with mine. His hands roam my body and mine yank at his hair. My feet stumble backward into the wall with a thud, yet our connection doesn't break.
“God, Meadow, this dress…” he mumbles against my lips and in my daze. I can feel his fingers dance along the hem on my dress, inching it up my legs. “I've been thinking all night about how to get it off you.”
“You have?” I gulp as his lips descend to my neck and my shoulder and my dress is hiked over my ass.
“Yes, especially when you were shaking this little ass on my lap half the night.”
“Sorry.” My breath catches in my throat, but I'm not sorry in the least. This is what I've been waiting for.
“Don't be.” His eyes meet mine, darkening, as my dress creeps higher and higher up my body. “Because now I'm going to have my way with you.”
“Yes, please.”
“Then let's finish getting this dress off you. Arms up.”
My arms fly up and my dress goes above my head and then falls to the ground. I'm now standing in front of him in the tiniest of black thongs I own, but he doesn't even take the chance to admire it before he's ripping it off me. It falls, tattered, to the floor as his lips attach to the side of my neck.
“I love you,” his voice rasps out the words I've heard him say a million times. Though right now in this intimate, heated moment my heart zaps in an unexplainable way that tells me this is all the more I've wanted. That this isn't just the liquor talking.
My hands tangle into his hair and my hips jerk into his, rubbing against his belt, “I love you too,” I purr, trying to tell him how much I do.
He grunts and his hands move down my back to my ass, and he lifts me in his arms. His lips connect to mine and I'm finding myself carried down the hall, but I’m oblivious of my surroundings till I hit the soft mattress. By the smell of sandalwood and Irish Spring, I know I'm in Dex's bed.
He hovers over me still in his button-down shirt and slacks. “You have too many clothes on, mister.” I grab the collar of his shirt and rip it open sending the buttons across the room.
“Eager, Ms. Lexington?”
“Very.” I arch an eyebrow and grab for the belt. I struggle to unbuckle it as he attacks my mouth.
Somehow, I manage to undo his belt and slacks and slide them down his ass to free his dick. I fist it in my hand, running my thumb over his thick head, spreading the pre-cum around. For so long, I had always pictured what his thick cock would feel like inside of me, and now it was finally happening.
“Meadow, wait.” I frown when he moves my hand off his dick. But thankfully, it’s only so he can maneuver the rest of the way out of his pants. As soon as he’s free he’s back to me, kissing me, ravishing me.
This is heaven.
“I love you. Like really love you,” he utters with true conviction, making my heart swell. “Like so damn much, Meadow.”
“I love you too, Dex. I have, for so long.”
His eyes close, and his forehead falls to mine. “Fuck!”
“What? What's wrong?”
“I do love you, but…”
“But what?” I touch his cheek, urging him to look at me, but he doesn't.
He shakes his head, his hair going crazy on top. “I...can't.”
He can’t?
My heart sinks thinking he's going to turn me down. We're already naked. I'm laying here vulnerable, wanting to give him every part of me and now he's saying no. There’s this pain glinting behind his brown eyes I don’t understand. He's fighting with something, but what?
What's going through that head, Dex?
“Dex? You can. Please.” My hand curls in his hair urging him back to me. “I need you.”
“You need me?”
“I need you. Please. Love me, Dex. Make me yours.”
His lips mesh with mine again, more eager than before. His dick at my soaked entrance makes me moan and thrust my hips, begging for friction.
I want this. I need this. I'm afraid if I open my eyes it'll all disappear.
“You're so fucking beautiful, Meadow,” he murmurs, breaking away from our kiss. His mouth moves to the side of my neck, to my breasts. Sucking and nipping on each of my nipples, making them pebble. “And you taste...god…you taste fucking amazing.”
His hand traces down to my center, his thumb finding my clit. “Dex,” I whimper when he rubs my sensitive nub and his fingers slide between my soaked folds.
“You're so wet,” he groans and sinks another finger inside of me. My legs lift higher up his back, giving him more depth, and I bite the corner of my lip and moan as he hits the right spot. “Damn…that's fucking hot,” I vaguely hear him mutter as his fingers pump faster.
“Ahh,” I moan, and I unravel around his fingers.
“And that's even hotter.” He chuckles, kissing his way back up my body. Once I'm down from my high, his fingers slip out of me and into his mouth, lapping up my juices from them. “Mmm,” he hums. “You taste better than birthday cake. Want some?” he says, shoving his fingers into my mouth.
I suck my arousal off his fingers and his eyes darken hungrily.
“Tell me again how long you have wanted this?”
“For so long. I love you.”
“Can you say that again?”
“I. Love. You,” I say the words more forcefully, wanting to wipe away whatever worry is weighing heavy on his conscience. He runs his hand down my face before leaning down and devouring me with his kisses and his all empowering love for me.
“You ready for this?”
“So ready,” I pant, and his lips consume me once again. My heels dig into his back, and I hold him tighter, as he sinks into me. “Yesssss,” I hiss through my teeth as he fills me completely. We fit perfectly. As if we were made for each other.
All right, Meadow, enough with the fairytale mumbo because by the smirk on Dexter's face, he's about to fuck you into oblivion.
“Hold on, baby.”
Baby!
My nails dig into his shoulder and his scalp, as his dick pulls out to the tip and slams back in. Our lips find each other again, as the bed creaks and moans below us. His thrusts might be rough, like we're just fucking, but his kisses, his kisses are sending me into a tailspin and saying he loves me, cares for me...cherishes me.
“God, Meadow, you feel so damn good,” he breathes and recaptures my lips before I can say a word. My moans get lost down his throat and it's as if he is trying to possess me totally.
But I don't care. I'm his.
I buck against him, trying to match his thrusts and take him further. He hits that delicious spot over and over, sending a convulsion to run through me, a tidal wave brewing below the surface.
Dexter moans, releasing my lips to curse silently under his breath. “Roll over.”
“Huh?” Before I can say anything else, he slides out of me and turns me over, hoisting my ass into the air.
Well, fuck.
His hand grasps my hip hard, his other hand twisting around my hair, pulling me up. In any other scenario, this would probably hurt like hell, but this…this is needed.
“Ready, baby?” My heart soars again at the nickname, and before I can get an answer out, he drives back into me.
“Fuck!” I scream out.
This is intense, more intense than anything I’d ever had before. He’s thrusting harder, deeper, and it feels oh so good. My hands grip the sheets for dear life as my body clenches, and I start to see stars. “Dex—”
“Meadow,” he pants. “I’m—”
“Yes,” I hiss, as my body unravels around him, and the stars I was seeing have now combusted “Dex!”
“Meadow!” He pumps into me, his fingers dig into my hips, as he pours his hot seed into me. “Fuck!”
He slowly pulls out of me and I wince at the absence. I miss it already.
Yup, I’m addicted.
Addictions can be healthy though, in moderate doses…which means every hour of the day for the rest of our lives. Yeah, that would satisfy the craving that’s growing in my belly.
He collapses next to me and pulls me into his arms. My head rests on his chest as we both struggle to get our breathing under control. It’s only when I start drifting off that I hear Dexter mumbling to himself.
“Dex?” My head lifts, to try to understand what the hell he's saying.
“I can't have you,” he murmurs, his eyes closing, and I can feel his body going limp under me. “I can't. You're not mine.”
“What are you talking about?” I shake him, trying to have him wake back up and make some sense of what he said, but nothing. He's gone. I sigh and kiss him on his still swollen lips. “I love you, Dex. And you can have me. Forever and ever.”
My eyes blink open and there's a slight throb between them. I roll over and I'm met with the naked back of my best friend with his head buried under his pillow. Clearly, our love connection was broken in the middle of the night, but this is also a clear sign Dex is going to be hung the fuck over.
Dexter always covers his head subconsciously in his sleep to block off any chance of light and sound after a night of heavy partying. Add it to the pile of things I find irresistible about him. It's such a silly thing, but when you’ve known someone their entire lives the little things come extra special.
My finger traces the contours of the muscles in his back, down to his unblanketed sculpted ass. He doesn't flinch and I scoot in closer and trace little kisses along his spine. Still nothing. I bite my lip to contain my giggle and wonder how much longer I'll have to wait for him to wake from the dead.
Though, when my stomach rumbles, I figure I can help both our hangover asses and make breakfast.
But first, a shower.
I'm finishing putting the bacon and sausage onto a plate when I catch a shirtless Dex coming into the kitchen out of the corner of my eye. His hair is standing on all ends and his arms stretch above his head, flexing every ab and stomach muscle.
Fuck, he looks good enough to eat.
My mouth waters and my sex pulsates remembering the way he felt inside of me and how good his kisses tasted.
His brown eyes light up when he sees me and then the plate in front of me.
“Oh yes! Your cure to a hangover breakfast! You're a godsend.” He slides onto the stool and stuffs a piece of sausage, wrapped in greasy bacon into his mouth.
“I did.” I grin, proudly. “Anything to make sure you're not a zombie all day.” I wink and dump my cheesy, onion eggs on to a big plate in front of him.
“That's why you're the greatest!”
“I do my best. Did you sleep well?” I move to sit beside him and kiss his cheek. His eyes squint at me, but he grins putting the orange juice glass to his lips to take a sip.
“Yeah. I did.”
“I did too.” I rest my head on his shoulder and inhale the scent of his natural musk. “It was the best birthday I’ve ever had.”
“That's good. I’m glad it turned out well.” His shoulder nudges my head, causing me to move away. “You’re acting really odd this morning.”
“No, I’m not. I’m just…happy. Is that okay?”
How could I not be? Our relationship has made the leap I’ve been waiting for. I figured he would be a little bit more lively about it. Want to talk about it—want more of it!
“Of course, it is. Sorry. Carry on.”
“Good, and you know, I thought maybe…” I draw my finger on his shoulder, acting like this oddball teenager who doesn’t know how to flirt, when I consider myself a master on how to flirt with Dexter Greene. “If you want, we could do that again.”
“Throw another party of the year. Of course.”
“Not the party. What happened after the party. Don’t you remember?” My heart is a thumping mess, and my hands start to tingle and sweat.
“After? Like before we passed out? Like did we all do something stupid like when we TP’d Mr. Anderson’s lawn.” He laughs with the brightest carefree smile on his face.
I don’t laugh back.
The ton of bricks of reality hits me and it tumbles me down that he might truly not remember. Twenty minutes ago, I was lying next to him...naked, and now it’s all faded away in the haze of our hangovers.
He has to be messing with me.
Please tell me he’s messing with me.
As I stare at him, taking a good look at him, I can honestly say he doesn't have a clue. Because Dexter has never been a good liar. This is the face of a man who is completely clueless; Even though his shiny brown eyes are hazed by his hangover, there's no hint of twitching behind them that he gets when he lies. There’s no twinge of sweat or shaky hands.
Meadow, you moron, why did you leave the room? You should've stayed and sucked his dick —not a hangover breakfast.
I just thought I was worth remembering!
“No. It was nothing.”
“Come on, tell me. By the time I had those Jägerbombs, man I was gone. It was a fucking good night, Meadow.”
Maybe I should tell him. Confess that he said he loved me, that we made love, to where I saw stars. But like another brick being thrown at my already shattered glass house, I remember his final words, “I can't have you.”
“Meadow, what happened?”
“It really was nothing. I was just shit-faced and I slept in your room. Woke with my foot in your face. I didn’t think you would mind, but I know it’s been a while since we shared a bed together,” I lie but hope it triggers something or he calls my bluff. But all I get is his toothy smile before he sips down the rest of his OJ.
“You always did tend to be a bed hog. Is that all?”
“Yeah. That's all.” I swipe a piece of bacon off the main plate.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.” As I bite into the bacon it loses all flavor, turning to dust. I’m angry and sick all at the same time. The beautiful morning I woke up to is now dark and gray and I have no idea what to do.
Chapter Two
Dexter
Meadow is in the kitchen throwing dishrags and dishes around as she tries to ‘clean.’ It’s way too early on a Thursday morning for any of this but it’s how it has been all week. The house has become a war zone and I’m public enemy number one. Meadow is the angry Marine out for my blood since the morning after her birthday.
A bowl clatters into the sink with an aggravated groan, and I find myself stepping backward, away from the possible danger zone. If I come into a room, she's ready to eat my sou
l for breakfast. I've seen all kinds of PMS monsters take over Meadow's body, but this is one of the worst. I've even tried to bribe it with the usual ice cream, heat packs, and chocolate…and all those things were thrown back at my head.
I'm starting to feel as if my best friend hates me. Though I can't figure out why. So right now, I'll avoid her and hope that whatever has taken over my best friend returns her soon.
“Dexter?”
Busted!
“Yes, love?” I mutter sarcastically and bravely step into the kitchen.
Her body freezes at my words, but her eyes narrow, throwing tiny daggers my way.
Yep, I'm about to be chewed and spit right back out.
“You left your spaghetti bowl in the sink, not soaking, again. Is it really that hard to put water in it?” she snarls.
“No. I was in a hurry last night. Move and I'll do the dishes.” I inch in closer towards her like a gazelle asking to get eaten by a lion.
She’s a cute little lion though. Her hair is in a tight bun, making her neck kissable, and the tight pencil skirt makes her ass look amazing.
Wait! What the fuck Dex…kissable?
Since when do I check Meadow out like that?
Snap out of it. Focus back on trying not to get killed.
See, what’s wrong with little Ms. Lion here is everything she’s wearing has her wound up so damn tight...
“Dexter!” She snaps her fingers in front of my face. I shake my head, coming back to the reality of the one I’m in and give her a winning smile. “I was talking to you. But not like you listen.”
“Sorry. What were you saying?”
“I said I was almost done now anyway.” She rolls her eyes, closes the dishwasher with her hip, and then turns it on.
“Why are you even doing dishes before work?”
“I wouldn't have been if someone rinsed or soaked his bowl. And cleaning usually destresses me.”
I bite on my tongue, hard, to the point I might burst a taste bud because that's the furthest thing from the truth. She might think cleaning helps calm whatever evil possesses her or what has her freaking out, when in fact, it doubles the anxiety making her double the crazy.
The Love Plan Page 2