She's Got Dibs

by AJ Nuest

He let her slide slowly down the front of him to her feet. “Let me look at you.” He lifted the sunglasses from her face. “My God, you look amazing,” he said quietly. “I’d forgotten how incredibly beautiful you are.”

  She smiled, palmed the stubble on his cheek. “Love the shadow.” Returning the favor, she removed his sunglasses, anxious to bask in the light of his gaze, but the strain along his brow, the dark shadows under his lashes, tugged at her heart. “You look tired. I bet you’re exhausted.”

  He shook his head, and his arms tensed as he leaned down and touched his lips to hers.

  An eternity had passed since she last tasted his kiss. He pressed a hand on her back, bringing their lips together a second time. Desire warmed her belly when he slid his tongue in, deepening their kiss. She ran her hands through his hair, meeting him stroke for stroke, wanting no space between them. His kiss was everything she remembered, all she had imagined and been longing for. He brushed his lips up, sweeping once, then twice. Pleasure rippled down her spine when he buried his face in her hair, the rasp of his beard a perfect contrast against the smooth nip of his lips on her ear.

  “Here’s your bag, Romeo.” A thud landed at their feet.

  Dibs clasped the side of her throat, pulling her to his lips again and again. “Let’s just go,” he murmured. “I want to be alone with you.”

  “My thoughts exactly.” She met his lips one last time before stepping back.

  Twining their fingers together, he stooped to pick up his bag, but when Tessa tugged the keys from her pocket and jingled them in the air, he waved them away. “Do you mind driving? I am really tired.”

  “Sure.” She squeezed his hand before climbing into the Jag and waiting for him to enter on the passenger side. “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “If you don’t mind, let’s go to my place. I’m anxious to be home.”

  He could’ve asked her to drive him to the moon, and she would have happily obliged. All that mattered was they were finally together.

  The ride into Chicago was filled with details about the work his team had completed at the construction site, laying the foundation for the new school. He described his visits with the villagers and how most of them were ill, surviving a meager existence, battling starvation. His stories of the orphaned children broke her heart—both parents lost to HIV, and their struggles to stay clean and clothed. How the drinking water made most of them sick, the medical attention they received inadequate to fight off even the smallest of infections.

  But what really killed her was the deep commitment in his voice, his determination to improve the quality of life for those who had less than most.

  By the time he finished, tears brimmed in her eyes. “You’re an amazing person, you know that? My biggest concern this past week was getting those ridiculous chocolate truffles wrapped.”

  He chuckled and stole her hand from the wheel, swirled the ball of his thumb in a lazy circle across her palm. “But I thought about you the entire time. It was a strange thing, being so sad and so happy all at once.” He flipped her hand and fingered the ring on her pinkie. “Hey, this is pretty. Not a present from a secret admirer, I hope.”

  She smiled. “That’s my prize from the bubble gum machine.”

  He twisted in the seat. “You sold the engagement ring?”

  She nodded, glancing his way.

  He pressed the ring to his lips, turned her hand over and kissed the center of her palm. The rough stubble on his chin tickled when he swept his parted lips back and forth over her wrist. “My God, you smell good.”

  “Dibs…” Arousal shivered her skin, warmed her stomach. She laughed.

  The tip of his tongue moistened the sensitive inside of her arm. “You taste really good, too.”

  “I’m going to wreck the car.” An aching heat pulsed in her thighs. Maybe they could hit a rest stop.

  “I’m insured.”

  “That’s great, but what a tragedy if something happened before we got to your place.” She laughed again, contorting in the seat when he nibbled the crook of her elbow.

  “Your skin is like silk.” His muffled chuckle bathed her skin. Goose bumps shot straight up her arm to the nape of her neck. “I’m going to eat you alive.”

  A thrill cascaded through her body. She squirmed and checked the review mirror, punching the gas. “I’m getting us there as fast as I can.”

  A laugh rumbled in his chest and he lowered her hand to his thigh, covered it with his own.

  “Is it hot in here?”

  He laughed again. “Tell me about your week.”

  “Well, let’s see. I met your father.”

  Curiosity…or perhaps concern creased his brow. He yawned and raked his fingers through his hair. “When was this?”

  “Tiffany and I drove the Jag out to the Park on Thursday. Your father was standing beside it when we walked out to leave.”

  “Oh, God. What did he want?”

  She spoke from the side of her lips. “He wanted to know why I was driving his son’s car.”

  He squinted. “And…what did you say?”

  “Well, after I got over my initial shock, I introduced myself and told him we were friends.”

  “Friends.”

  She bobbled her head at the disquiet in his voice. “I said we were good friends.”

  “Good friends.”

  She squeezed his thigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to say.”

  “Uh huh. And then what?”

  “Then he said ‘I understand everything now’ and asked if I knew when you were due back from Africa.”

  Dibs dug into his eye sockets with his thumb and index finger. “He’s such an ass.”

  “What do you think he meant ‘I understand everything now’?”

  His hand dropped like a dead weight onto his leg, and he blinked. “How long were you waiting for me, anyway?”

  “You’re changing the subject?”

  “No.” He chuckled. “I’m just wondering how long you’ve been stewing about that particular sentence.”

  “Three days. What do you think he meant?”

  His palm warmed the inside of her arm, smoothing up and down. “Trust me, Rex. If I understood half the things my father said, life would be a lot easier. But unfortunately, I don’t. Now let’s really change the subject. I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”

  “What exit should I take?”

  She followed Dibs’s directions and soon pulled into a three car garage connected to his five-story lakefront home. They lumbered their luggage from the trunk and entered through a side door into a large, well-lit sunroom.

  Several pieces of dark rattan furniture sat in a semi-circle, mirroring the arch of a bay window, the thick cushions covered in a green and tan palm leaf fabric. A three-tiered fountain bubbled outside the pane, the surrounding landscape budding and manicured to perfection. “Nice place.”

  He assessed her from under his brows, stacking their luggage near the door. She smiled, but her knees weakened over the dark hunger in his eyes.

  “Enough talking.” Slipping his hands into hers, he tugged her to his chest. Their lips met for a light kiss. “And enough waiting.” He tipped his head and kissed her again, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth, his tongue flicking and teasing. He brushed the backs of his fingers up and down her arms. “And enough of this just-being-friends business.” His heated murmur sent a quiver of excitement skipping down her spine. Her nipples peaked and a sigh escaped her throat.

  He swept his tongue along her top lip, tangled his fingers in her hair, tilted her head back, and trailed moist kisses down her neck.

  She explored the hard planes of his stomach, the fixed muscles in his chest, slid her hands up his shoulders, and wound her fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck. So long she had waited for this moment. He was finally back in her arms. Those were his lips tending her skin, his hands caressing her body.

  She yanked his shirt from his waistband, wantin
g to devour every inch, to experience him like she had so long ago at the hotel. He clenched her sides, tugged her into his hips. The rigid length of his erection imprinted on her lower belly. Pleasure rippled through her legs, stole the breath from her lungs. He worked the buttons on her blouse, snuck his hands inside and danced his fingertips across the tops of her breasts. Longing surged and sparked through her limbs when his lips became caught up with hers.

  He eased his palms down the curve of her bottom, squeezed, and lifted her to his waist. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his hips. His muscles tensed under her palms as he spun and collapsed to the couch with her straddling his lap.

  A whimper leaked from her throat when their bodies connected. So good. He felt so damn good. She writhed and bucked against him. Hard and heated, he rocked beneath her, meeting her thrust for thrust. She urged his shirt over his head, her hands on his bare skin the moment he was within reach. He pushed her blouse from her shoulders, freeing her arms from the sleeves, gathered her close, and she gasped when he brought her roughly forward. His moan vibrated against her mouth. The heady taste of him lingered on her tongue. Her bra came loose. The straps went slack. His hips jerked, the stiff ridge in his pants prodded her inner folds, and hot embers shot straight into her core. His tongue laved her nipples, his lips nibbled and plucked, the stubble of his beard grazing the taut peaks.

  The two of them rocked, his fingers clenching her hips, guiding her back and forth over his unyielding member. On a low growl, he wrapped her to his chest and stood, hands splayed under her thighs, and carried her from the room.

  His long strides ate up a flight of stairs, their lips hungry, bodies tight. He moved swiftly down a hall before his thighs flexed and another flight disappeared beneath his feet.

  He kicked a door open, a few more steps, and they landed together on the middle of a bed. She popped the button from his waistband, urged his pants from his hips. Eager to touch every inch, she stroked him from base to tip.

  The muscles in his chest trembled. The button at her waist released. Dibs stood from the bed, flushed and erect, seized the top of her jeans, and stripped them from her legs. She laughed when he whisked them over his shoulder and pounced on top of her. He used his fingers like magic, swirled tiny circles around her oversensitive bud before delving within. She writhed when intense need flooded her veins. Euphoria sang through her body. She tossed her head back, spine bowed, as a wave of release pulsated inside.

  But he deserved more, everything she had to offer, skin on skin. She pushed his hand aside and rolled on top of him, knees bracketing his hips. Unable to wait, she grabbed his shoulders and wrenched him to sitting. Tremors mounted in her thighs, vibrated through her legs.

  He seized her hips, the tip of him poised at her entrance. “Protection?”

  “I’m on the pill.”

  His fingers clenched and in one fluid motion, he joined them together. Tessa arched into him and became fulfilled. Her inner muscles quivered and Dibs groaned, slid her back across his thighs and plunged deep a second time, the tightness of him a perfect fit. His legs jittered beneath her bottom, her urgency building as he drove into her with increasing speed. Every nerve ending throbbed and cried out for more. He gathered her under her thighs, cinched his arms, and pulsed within, his hips momentarily lifting off the bed. Ecstasy exploded. She shuddered and rode the crest. The light in the room dimmed. The world shattered and transformed.

  Dibs collapsed onto the bed, taking her with him, and she buried her face in the crook of his neck as joy eddied and swept her away in its warm tide.

  ****

  He was almost asleep. One more moment…perhaps two.

  She held his stubbled cheek, her thumb sweeping the curve of his full lips. He smiled against the pad of her skin, lids heavy, and his hand smoothed slowly down her back. His eyes fluttered closed, and then he went still. His breathing deepened and slowed. Tessa stayed by his side for a long time, reluctant to leave, content to lie in his arms while he slumbered in the place where his dreams lived.

  She finally placed a tender kiss on his lips and rolled away, sat up and stretched her arms over her head. Dibs was so tired he would probably sleep through the night, but the amber light outside his window spoke of early evening. While he rested, perhaps she could use the opportunity to skim through the work in her briefcase.

  The clean lines of his bedroom appealed to her. Almost everything was cream, except the dark oak dressers and nightstands, the headboard on the bed, and a few pieces of modern art decorating the wall. It seemed strange the room had no closet, until a seam in the opposite wall indicated a concealed door. A second seam on the far side of his dresser likely denoted the door to the bathroom.

  She padded to the first door and smiled when it swung wide and Dibs’s blue bathrobe appeared on a hook within easy reach. She slid her arms through the sleeves, wrapping up in the velvety material, the mingled scents of his cologne and skin filling her senses.

  She tiptoed into the hall, and Dibs’s deep breathing became muffled when she silently swung the bedroom door closed behind her.

  A curving balcony wound to the head of the stairs and she peered over the railing…hopped back a step. One slip and she would plummet two levels, landing on what looked like a hard marble floor. Two more floors hovered above her, each with the same open balcony connected through a series of staircases. Centered in the ceiling a circular stained-glass skylight bathed each floor in a blush of light. Just over the upper two balconies peeked the tops of several closed doors. One…two…three…four bedrooms on each level.

  She glanced between the floor and ceiling, shook her head, and descended the stairs.

  Two flights later, she encountered the entryway, passed a pink marble-topped table, a huge orchid dripping with white blooms on top. Down three steps and she entered the living room. On each side of the gray marble fireplace, two low cream-colored couches sat facing each other, a long wooden coffee table between them. Over the mantel hung a painting—the sky muted gold, bright red and yellow flowers on the left, a small house off to the right, with a man and woman perched on the edge of a kiss.

  On the lower right-hand corner, in almost illegible black paint, was scrawled Monet. Tessa slapped a hand to her chest. The gold-embossed plate affixed to the gilded frame read Garden at Argenteuil. A low whistle warbled through her lips.

  Three steps up and she found a combination kitchen-dining area—open concept, kitchen appliances, cabinets, and counters on the right, a formal dining table surrounded by six high-backed chairs on the left. She beelined for the refrigerator, and then laughed out loud over the amount of food crammed inside. She stole a bottle of water and swung the door closed.

  Past a windowed breakfast nook, a wrought-iron table with seating for four, she entered the sunroom, Dibs’s T-shirt, her blouse, and bra scattered on the floor. Compressing her lips to muffle a chuckle, she tossed the clothing over the arm of the couch, retrieved her briefcase from beside the back door, and settled in a padded rattan chair near the window.

  She soon became immersed in the BFG event, paging through the description of each banquet hall, shifting through ideas, and listing activities to discuss with Tiffany. Two hundred and fifty attendees were expected, twenty-four seminars in total, and while it was paramount the schedule be clear and concise, she also wanted to make the experience enjoyable. A few menus came to mind, her most clever for the Saturday night Crystal Ballroom Awards Ceremony.

  Time passed, and the room grew dim. She clicked on the tall floor lamp next to her chair, and then jumped when a loud slam reverberated from overhead, followed by heavy footsteps thundering down the stairs. What in the world was he doing?

  Dibs stumbled into the room, torture etched on his face, tan cargo pants open at the waist and bare-chested. “Oh, thank God.”

  Panic wound its icy fingers through her chest, and she sprang forward in the chair. “What’s the matter?”

  He staggered close and slumped to his knees i
n front of her. “I woke up and you were gone.” Arms encircling her legs, he lowered his head to her lap. “I thought you left.”

  “Well, why in the world would you think—” A heavy blow forced her back in the seat.

  Tessa closed her eyes. A breath of regret left her lips. That first time at the hotel she had left, disappeared. And now, the remembrance of what she’d done to him crushed her heart.

  She ran her hand through his hair, pressed his shoulders to her legs. His chest hitched, a heavy sigh warming her lap when he exhaled. If only she had realized then. Knowing Dibs had changed her life. If given the chance, she would go back in time and undo her actions. But the opportunity had passed her unwitting, and she was stuck with the choices she’d made.

  A tear settled on her lashes. “I’m so sorry, Dibs,” she whispered.

  “I thought I’d have to find you again.” His voice was hoarse, and so tired. “I don’t know, I must have been dreaming…you just scared me.”

  “I’m not leaving. I promise.”

  His breathing slowed. The tension in his arms went slack.

  “Are you falling asleep again?”

  When he didn’t answer, she gently lifted his chin and gazed into his sleep-laden eyes. “Come on. Let’s go back to bed.”

  She urged him to stand, propped a shoulder under his arm, and together they climbed the stairs to his bedroom. After tucking him in, she turned for the end of the bed, but Dibs grabbed her wrist and slid across the sheet, holding the blankets open. She let his bathrobe slither off her arms to the floor.

  He spooned her with his body, snug and tight, one arm snaked around her waist. “Just don’t leave,” he mumbled. “I can’t stay awake.”

  Her heart wrenched, and she covered his hand, holding his palm against her stomach.

  His deep yawn ruffled her hair. “Stay with me, okay, Rex?”

  “Shhh…” She squeezed his fingers. “I’m right here. Go back to sleep now.”

  His arm grew heavier, his legs shifted, and he momentarily tightened his hold on her. “God, I’m so in love with you.” And with his next breath, he was asleep.