“Fi.”
Chapter Fifteen
Fiona
I wake up late. Again. Okay, earlier I woke up to Dex sliding into me and fucking me with a languid, almost lazy pace. I was sore, and so was he. Not enough to stop either of us. Not until I lost my ever-loving mind, which I do every time he slides into me.
Because his piercing? Hallelujah and praise the brave soul who first thought, I’m gonna adorn my man-crown. Nothing, nothing, on this green Earth is as good as the feeling of Dex’s thick, studded cock pushing in and out of me.
Well, perhaps one thing: witnessing Ethan Dexter come. I swear, I could have an orgasm just watching him, the way his big body starts to quiver, his brows drawing up tight as though he’s in actual pain. But it’s mostly the way he gives himself over to it, pounding into me like he’d die if he stopped, the almost desperate sounds he makes, somewhere between a whimper and a groan.
That this big, strong, normally self-contained man falls apart for me makes me fall a little deeper every time. And I’d wanted him to stay in bed with me. Possibly never leave it.
But annoying Gray began texting and then calling up the stairs, nagging Dex to get his ass up and get ready.
“He’s not going to let this go,” Dex had muttered.
“This is some sort of sick payback, isn’t it?” I flopped onto my back.
“Guys are kind of assholes that way.” He sat up with a groan.
So while he showered and went to work out, I slipped back into sleep, a boneless bliss known only to those who have been thoroughly worked over.
As soon as I wake, I want him here. He’s been gone for two hours, and I miss him with a terrible ache that swims through my bones. My stomach should be in knots over my work mess, but instead it’s fluttery with anticipation. I can’t wait to hear his voice, see all those deeply weighted thoughts going on in his agate eyes. I want to feel his solid warmth, touch his body.
God, my hands twitch with the need to wrap themselves around that thick, strong cock of his, to play with the silver piercing and hear him make those low, needy groans.
I have to press my legs together to ease the emptiness there.
All this and it’s only been a few days with him. Already I’m addicted. One hit and he is my drug of choice. And what good will this do when I have to go back to New York?
The ringing of my phone pulls me out of my thoughts.
The caller ID says it’s my co-worker Alice. Which is weird enough that I answer.
“Hey,” Alice’s voice is thin, the sound of traffic loud in the background. “You having fun in San Fran?”
Fun isn’t the word for what I’m having. Super happy lust tornado? Pleasure palace experience of a lifetime?
“No complaints,” I say casually. Which is also a gross understatement. “What’s up?”
I don’t usually get calls from Alice.
“Felix pulled us all into a meeting today. Said he was planning on naming his new assistant designer on Friday morning.”
I bolt upright, my spine so stiff it hurts. “Friday? But I’m not back in until Monday.”
Alice makes a noise that sounds a lot like duh although she’s too nice to say it outright. She’s already a junior designer, so she’s got nothing to worry about. I, on the other hand, am clearly up shit creek without a paddle.
“And since when did he plan on having a new assistant?” I practically squeal.
“Probably after the millionth time Elena mentioned how good it would be for him to have one. She’s been getting really cozy with him this week.”
Alice is one of the few people in the office who sees Elena for what she is, and who vocally disapproves. At least to me. Which makes us comrades of a sort.
“Of course she is,” I say, my blood rising hot over my chest and face. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone on vacation. Shit.”
“Look, normally I wouldn’t say this, but you might want to consider cutting your vacay short. Get in here and show Felix what you’ve got. Something new and not tainted by Elena.”
I’m already up, hurrying to my room as fast as my short legs can carry me. I refuse to look back at the bed I’ve just left. But it doesn’t matter. It haunts me still, like a cold fist grinding down my spine. “Thanks for the head’s up.”
She makes a noise of disgust. “If that little bitch gets a promotion, there will be no living with her. I’m likely to take a walk into rush-hour traffic.”
“I’ll join you.”
“Besides, it’s only a matter of time before she starts copying someone else, and I’m not going to be her next victim.”
“There’s the Alice I know.” I laugh without much humor. “Keep calm; I’m on it.”
But I have the horrible, sinking feeling that it’s already a done deal. So why am I frantically packing my bag? Why am I online cashing in precious air miles so I can get a ticket back to NYC today?
With each decisive action, my jaw grows a little stiffer, my heart a little colder.
You’re running away. You’re just using this as an excuse.
No. I need to protect my job. I’m not running.
Thirty minutes later, when I finally stop moving and planning, I sit in the quiet of the guest room I decorated and think of Dex.
I’ll be leaving him regardless. If not today, then definitely on Sunday. A few days more will only make this worse. I’ve had boyfriends before; I know when I’m in danger of losing my head over a guy. And I know it’s never been as strong as this. Usually the start of a relationship is the best part for me. Attraction is a heady rush, a kind of giddy high—like going out and dancing all night. You know it will end eventually. It’s just part of the process, a little built in fail-safe to keep me from getting too attached.
Only with Dex? I don’t like the idea of us having an end date. At all.
I struggle to swallow past the panic. I’m so deep in my own fear that I don’t hear him until he’s walking into my room.
Fresh from a shower at the gym, his sun-streaked hair is damp and neatly swept back in that Samurai bun. He’s wearing a navy t-shirt with a graphic of a big, green Hulk fist smashing through cinder blocks. I’m betting Gray gave it to him.
I’m also betting Dex is wearing it now because Gray gave it to him. Dex is like that—the big papa bear who makes sure those in his circle know they’re loved and appreciated.
The pain in my throat grows. I have to slip my hands between my knees and press hard to keep from reaching for him.
There’s a smile in his eyes. But he clearly sees that something is wrong, and he halts. Instantly his gaze scans the room as if he knows he needs to search out any possible threat.
His eyes cut to the packed suitcase on the floor and a line forms between his thick brows. “You’re leaving?”
He sounds so incredulous, his voice lighter with shock, his body visibly recoiling like I’ve slapped him. I did that to him. I hate myself for that.
Talking proves harder than expected. “Work emergency.”
The line between his brows gets deeper, and he puts his hands low on his hips in the way guys do, his stance wide. His fists are clenched tight enough to make his knuckles white, and I get the feeling he’s trying not to grab my bag and hurl it back into the closet.
I want to do the same. But I’m cutting and running like a coward instead.
Dex’s eyes meet mine. Already he has such power over me. One look and I want to walk into his embrace, beg him to fuck me, make me forget about everything and everyone. It would be so easy. I know he’d do it.
His low voice slides over the distance between us. “Why are you really leaving?”
Am I that obvious? Apparently so.
“I… Shit.” Standing, I take a deep breath and blurt it out. “I think we made a mistake.” My voice is overloud and desperate.
“Why?” His question is stark, as if ripped from him. “It was good. I know it was better than good—”
“Oh, God.” I hold up my hand
to stop him from saying more. “It’s not that. Ethan…” I run hand through my hair. I’m so clammy, my skin snags along the strands. “It was too good.”
He takes a step forward, his head tilting as he peers at me. “I’m not sure I get why too good is a mistake.”
“Because I’m going to want so-fucking-fantastic-my-knees-are-still-weak every day.” At this, his lips quirk, a gleam lighting his eyes, and I fight a smile. “I’m kind of selfish like that.”
Another step and he’s almost within touching distance, but he comes no farther. “Still not seeing the problem, Cherry.” His voice goes dark. “I’ll give it to you every day. Several times a day, if I have a say in the matter.”
He’s slowly coming closer, as if he’s afraid I’ll bolt. I want to. As it is, I press a hand to his solid chest. The instant I touch him, all my happy parts clench tight and hot. But I hold his gaze, don’t let him duck down to kiss me. “That’s the problem, Big Guy. You can’t. You won’t be where I am. And I…”
Dex’s soft lips brush against mine, stealing the breath from me.
“And I…” I say again. “I’ll miss it too much.”
Again he kisses me, a slow, melting nuzzle of lips. Soothing, tempting. Despite myself, I cup his cheek, stroke along his beard. His big, warm hand holds the back of my neck, keeping me steady as he gives me another kiss. No tongue, just mouth to mouth, an exchange of air. Just enough to let me feel.
“I’m kissing you,” he whispers against my lips, “and already I miss you.”
A ragged breath leaves me, and I break away from him. Not that he lets me go far. He holds my cheeks and presses his forehead to mine. With his great height, the action makes it seem as though he’s sheltering me, his broad shoulders hunched, his thick arms surrounding me.
With another man it might be intimidating. I simply feel protected with Dex. Which makes all of this so much harder.
“That’s the point. I hate being left behind, Ethan. I hated it when my dad did it. I hated it when my mom decided to live in another country. I hate the idea of it now. I tried to tell you this before. But you’re…you, all sexy and sweet and strong and beautiful… God, I’m babbling. You make me babble, Ethan. No guy has ever made me do that. How am I supposed to resist you?”
“You don’t.” The corners of his eyes crinkle, but it doesn’t look like amusement; it looks like pain. Perhaps the same pain I’m feeling.
“Last night,” I tell him, “was… I’ve never felt that before. Not just the sex, although…Hell, Ethan Dexter, you rock my world.” My fingers tighten on his jaw. “I know I said I’d try but… Shit…now I know it will slowly kill me not to have all of you.”
“You have me,” he rasps as though I’m killing him now. “You fucking have all of me.”
His declaration rips through my heart. We’ve only had a few days together. Already he knows as well as I do that the connection we made altered us. But I’m afraid I can only bend so far before I break. My throat swells tight.
“That’s the thing. I don’t have you. I will never have you with me all of the time.”
His body jerks, and I’m the one holding tight, afraid he’ll pull away.
“Ethan, I wouldn’t change you for the world. Football is part of who you are. Take that away, and I take away an essential component of you. But it doesn’t change the fact that if I don’t pull back now, I’ll regret it.”
He steps away, shoving his fisted hands deep in his jeans pockets. Massive muscles bunch along his shoulders and down his arms. His expression is like stone, but Dex was never very good with hiding emotion in his eyes. Maybe he doesn’t want to be. So much pain there. Anger too.
“I never want to be a regret to you, Fiona.” His throat works on a swallow, and he glances away, giving me his strong profile. “I don’t want to let you go. But if that’s what you want, I’ll respect your decision.”
So fucking grown up. I don’t feel like one. I’m the stupid kid who makes all the wrong choices. Is this one of them? I’m trying to do the right thing, and I know my usual self would toss caution to the wind and screw the consequences. But that’s led me down too many bad roads.
This is the smart choice. End it now before I turn into a whining, nagging leech girlfriend.
An unsteady breath leaves me. “I—”
He holds up a hand, his eyes still not meeting mine. “I can’t. Whatever it is you want to say just…” He moves then, faster than I’d have ever imagined.
Before I can even blink, he has me, his hands fisting my hair, his mouth on mine. It’s hard—his grip, his touch. He takes me, parting my lips with his, plunging his tongue in deep.
My knees do that weak thing again as he kisses the ever-loving fuck out of me. I can’t even hold on, I’m too dizzy with the feel of him just taking what he wants.
When my air runs out, his lips leave mine on a soft gasp. Dex rests his forehead against my heated cheek. The tips of his thumbs run along my skin. And when he talks, his voice is so rough, I almost don’t recognize it.
“Goodbye, Fiona Mackenzie. You rock my world too.”
And then he’s gone, walking out of the room and not turning back to see me fall.
Chapter Sixteen
Dex
Usually I do my running up and down stadium stairs, or towing a weighted sled while doing relays—brutal workouts designed to increase my strength and mental toughness or develop intense bursts of speed. Jogging along a flat trail is more of a luxury than a workout. Out here, I can soak up the scenery, get some much-needed fresh air.
Unfortunately, I’m not as fast as Gray, and the little shit catches up with me about a mile in. How he found me is some sort of Houdini magic because I sure as shit didn’t tell him where I was going.
“Hey,” he says as he comes alongside me.
I think I grunt. I’m not really in a talking mood.
“I’m guessing you know Fi left,” he says carefully.
I glance his way before facing forward again. “Say what you’re going to say, Grayson, and let me get on with my run.”
“Do you know how long I’ve waiting to have a heart-to-heart with you? Shit, Drew’s gonna be so jealous he wasn’t here.”
So glad my pain is such an event.
He must read this on my face because he winces. “Sorry. I suck at this. I’m not you.”
“Yeah, usually I lead in with a thought-provoking question, then wander away to let you work it out on your own.” I nod toward the path behind us. “Feel free to skip to the wandering part.”
“Nice try, Big D.”
At our side, the Golden Gate Bridge rises out of the morning fog. It’s beautiful. Almost peaceful. Only Gray won’t let me have any peace.
“You’re just going to let her go?”
For a hot second I actually want to hit him. Did he think it didn’t kill me to watch her walk away? I pull in a calming breath. Calm. I’m always calm. “She threw down an argument I had no solution for.”
Short of quitting my job, there is nothing I can do to solve the problem of me always leaving Fi.
The dull pain in my chest spreads down my arms. All I can do is run, listen to the sound of my feet hitting the pavement, the rasp of my breath going in and out.
“Man,” Gray finally says. “I’m sorry. I thought she’d be different with you. That she wouldn’t flake—”
“Grayson,” I cut in, because I really can’t handle pity right now. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. You might be a parent, but you’re not mine or Fi’s. I knew what I was risking.”
He manages to keep quiet for a few beats, but Gray’s a talker, incapable of prolonged silence. “Still,” he mutters, “fucking sucks balls.”
I couldn’t agree more.
He gives me a sidelong look. “So what are you going to do about it?” He knows me too well.
I fight to keep my face neutral. “What I do best. Assess the defense, find another angle.” Because I’ve had a taste of Fiona, and I can�
�t give her up without a fight. Unfortunately, until inspiration strikes, I have to retreat, give her space, or risk acting like a stalker, which no guy in his right mind should do.
Gray gives my arm a nudge. “Hey. Last one to Fisherman’s Wharf buys breakfast.”
Little fucker. We both are good for quick bursts of speed. But Gray is better at longer distances. So I do what any self-respecting competitor would. I shove him into the grass and take off.
* * *
Fiona
Airports suck. As soon as I step into one, I get tense. Someone is always watching you somewhere. You’re treated as cattle. Annoying cattle at that. And all you have to look forward to is a cramped seat and paying for a crap meal wrapped in plastic. Yay-hay.
My eyes are gritty, and I have a sore throat. Maybe I’m coming down with something. Because I’m finding it really hard to breathe too.
I’ve been this way pretty much since I left Ivy’s house. Ivy who looked at me with such disappointment, I felt lower than shit on a shoe. Gray didn’t even bother to look my way. He shut down completely and muttered something about taking a run.
The ticket agent informs me that I have a seat on the last row of the plane. Another bonus: all the people waiting to use the bathroom will stand there, shoving their asses in my face.
If you weren’t such a chickenshit, you’d still be in bed with Dex. Which is now officially the best place in the entire world.
I tell myself to shut up.
Boarding pass in hand, I turn, pulling my carryon bag behind me, and nearly smack into a couple kissing.
Fuck a duck.
They’re going at it. Not in a gross, slobbering way, but…shit, in a romantic, you’re-my-air way. Dude holds his girl’s cheeks with care as he tilts his head and goes in deeper. She clutches his back as if she’ll never let him go.
And here I am, staring like a perv. I can’t help it. I now know how it feels to kiss like that. The consuming fire of it, the way your entire body sways into your lover’s with the need to sink into his flesh and bones and become part of him.
The Game Plan (Game On #3) Page 11