by K. L. Jessop
But then I remind myself that it’s just sex. I can’t get caught up in what my mind is trying to force on me.
Her hands are flat on the counter, soft whimpers of pleasure escaping her when she rubs her backside against my dick that’s once again hard. Regardless of how hard I try, I know I can’t win this battle that is Pepper-fucking-Livewell. Because I like everything she throws at me. Every ounce of sarcasm that falls from her tongue, every trace of anger I’m able to inflict on her. I like it all, and it’s because of that that I treat her like I do.
“You have no idea what you’ve done to me since you walked into my life. ”
“Oh, I know,” she breathes. “And I don’t regret it one bit.”
The shit-eating grin that spreads across my lips is one I’m glad she can’t see. I can’t let her know what she’s truly doing to me. Noticing a glimpse of ink decorating her skin, I push up her little vest top and tilt my head to the side for a better view. The words With pain comes strength in black script stare back at me, and for a moment, everything around us stops as the reality of how shit life can be hits me hard. The words are like a slap in the face and all the times I’ve treated her like shit play back in my mind.
She’s hurting?
But at the same time, other questions run my mind and I trail my finger down the words on her back. Why does she have them on her skin? What has happened to her? Is this why she said what she did earlier? They’re all questions that make me realise other than her sharing my love of Macaroons, I know absolutely fuck all about Pepper Livewell.
My jaw tightens and I look up to find her watching me over her shoulder. The look in her eye and the plea in her voice is enough to tell me she needs this to escape whatever discomfort has gripped hold of her.
“Fuck me, Dexter. Please.” The edge of vulnerability falls from her in a whisper.
As I push inside her, my grip tightens on her hips and our groans fall in unison. My eyes slam shut; the way she feels around me is pure bliss. Perfect. Real. A connection that shouldn’t feel this euphoric. I thrust hard, releasing everything she’s held over me, filling her with everything I have causing her fists to ball on the counter, her knuckles white and her cries free falling.
Fatal. This fucking woman is fatal.
“More. I need more.”
Pulling her back so she’s flush against my chest, I hold the base of her throat. Her pulse beats against my hand as her chest rises and falls with her breathing. Her cry escapes with the new position and I drive into her harder, feeling my orgasm building and knowing she’s on the edge. Her arm circles my neck, her nails scrape my skin and our eyes lock. When I lower my fingers to play with her clit, her body tremors and when she tightens around me, we soar into the flames of destruction, letting our broken worlds erupt in beautiful chaos.
The harsh noise of our lungs filling and emptying falls between us as we try to control our breathing. My eyes close once again, my heart pounding from her touch, her heat, her, as her body comes down from the high.
“Wow. That was some frustrated sex.” The whisper leaves her lips and a smile tugs mine. I kiss her shoulder and pull out before pulling up my jeans. Turning her around, I take her mouth with mine again, wanting to keep the connection as she pushes herself up on to the breakfast bar.
The growing need to have a woman against my skin after sex is one I’ve never wanted or needed.
Until Pepper.
Stepping into her embrace, I hold her against me without another thought. I wrap my arms around her and she links hers around my waist as we hold each other without a word spoken between us. My only regret is that I haven’t removed her top as I now long to have her bare skin pressed fully against me.
“I’m sorry for my crazy outburst,” she whispers. My fingers gently brush against the nape of her neck and I relish this state of tranquillity I’m unexpectedly enveloped in. Yet I can’t let myself get too deep. These desires for a sexual connection are not lost on me, but the ones that Pepper has awoken in me are different. They are foreign, and for that, I have to control them. I need to protect her.
“You caught me on the wrong day.”
Her words from earlier play back in my mind leaving me wondering why she’s not been herself.
“What’s today?” I murmur, needing to know.
“Huh?”
“You said I couldn’t push you today. What’s today?”
“My birthday.” It’s barely a whisper.
What?
My brows narrow, and I pull back to look at her. It disturbs me that this is new information and that she hadn’t felt she could tell me, but what unsettles me more than it should is that she looks fragile. “And that makes you cry?”
“It does now.”
“Why?”
I want to take back my question when tears glisten her pretty blues as she whispers, “Because life is cruel.”
She has a past—an agony that can never be cured. I can see it in her eyes, but I’ve no words to console her—no words that will help her because I’m such a fuckup and someone she doesn’t need to add to her pain.
Bringing our mouths together for a brief kiss, I tease her tongue with the tip of mine. I’ve been a heartless fool. I’ve brought her into my life, connected with her in a way that I know is going to haunt me in the most beautiful way, but now I’ve put her in a position that has added more anguish to what she’s already consumed with.
Me.
My twisted mind.
My devil's blood.
I’ve been a fool to want this and an even bigger one to think that she could calm the chaos.
I can feel myself pulling back. This can’t be any more than what it just was and it can’t be any more than what I know she wants. Sex is sex, but a life with me is something far more dangerous.
“Stay with me, Dexter,” she whispers.
And there you go: Four words that have this sudden pull on my heart and regret filling me like a heavyweight. Four words that mean more to her then they ever can to me. Whatever power Pepper has over me, making me drop my guard and giving her my body will never outweigh the obscurity inside me—a darkness that’s slowly starting to creep in.
I need to go.
Taking her face in my hands, I hold her pleading gaze. “It’s better that I don’t.”
Picking up the blanket she once wore around her, I drape it over her shoulders before finding my jacket and shirt and heading out of the door without another word.
Leaving her as if she means nothing.
Telling myself this needs to be nothing.
Chapter Fifteen
Pepper
“So, when he walks back over to our table with drinks with this other guy I was like, no way.” Malcolm gesticulates as he tells all about how his date night failed, but, in all honesty, I’ve hardly been listening. My mind has done nothing but wander back to the night that changed everything—to the night I’ve not been able to shake from my mind—and the feelings of Dexter pressed against me. My body hasn't stopped tingling, and I can still feel the scruff of his beard that marked my skin.
His tongue. His touch. The way my guard fell without any remorse had been as powerful as watching his own barriers that he’s forever hiding behind fall. I’d seen a different side to the man I’ve been working with, and I’d been imprisoned by his new charisma that took my breath away. From the very moment he’d pulled me close, I was taken on a journey of pure desire and ecstasy that I’d never wanted to escape from. My body and soul had been freed of the pain I faced that day, and my heart had felt like it was beating for the right reasons. I’d felt electric, euphoric. I’d felt everything that no man has ever made me feel, and I’d not wanted to come down from the high that he’d taken me to.
But after he’d held me close and caressed my body with his delicate touch, I’d seen the change in his eyes when I asked him to stay. His demons had come back, clouding his judgment, and no matter how hard he’d tried to resist them, they’d won the war.
The man has an angel and the devil on each shoulder. What he doesn’t know is that after he’d left and taken a piece of my heart with him, my own troubles had come hurtling back, reminding me of everything I tried to forget.
“I had sex with Dexter,” I reveal, looking out of the coffee shop window. Since the year Persie passed, I’ve never shared my birthday with anyone else but my parents. It’s a distressing time for everyone, but like each year, a few days after, Malcolm treats me to breakfast. The air is cut to silence with my admission, and I know, without looking, the reaction that is on my friend’s face. I’m not one for one-night stands, but this past few weeks that Dexter has been present in my life, my desire to have him have been irrational. He has this aura that draws me towards him when I’m trying so hard to walk away. He’s nothing like I’ve experienced and everything I need to run from. But I can’t.
And I don’t think I want to.
Glancing at Malcolm, his wide eyes and mouth agape, completely unmoving, I sigh. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“You had sex?”
“Yes.”
“With Dexter Wilson?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
I look down at my coffee cup as the guilt I’ve been consuming since that night pulls at me once more. “My birthday.”
For the last few years, my birthday has become a day of mourning, and this time, I’ve let myself forget for a short period of time and the regret is hitting me hard.
“Wow, that’s some present.” The amazement in his voice has me flashing my eyes to him with annoyance.
“This isn’t some game, Mal. It was on my birthday.”
“And what? You saying you should have been sat surrounded with a box of tissues while you cried yourself into the pillow for another year?” His ‘to the point’ response does nothing to ease my remorse.
Reaching across the table, he takes hold of my hand, and I force myself to swallow the tears that are threatening. How can one night have engulfed me with so many mixed feelings?
“Pepper, you can’t put your life on hold because Persie isn’t here. No one will think any less of you for enjoying life outside of her death.”
“I know. But I let my guard down, Mal. I was angry and upset and he was there.”
“And now you regret it?”
“I regret the timing but not what happened.” And that is no lie. I may have let my guard down for a moment, but Dexter had managed to lift that weight off my shoulders in the time that we connected, and I’d thought of nothing but him and the way he made me feel.
“Then stop punishing yourself over it. Life goes on, Pep. You know this. Do you really think Persie would want you holding back?”
I shake my head, knowing she wouldn’t and as ironic as it sounds, I wouldn’t want her holding back either in that situation should the role be reversed. “No, she wouldn’t.”
“Then go with it.”
I take a deep breath, trying to remove the void I’m feeling along with shaking the man from my mind who does nothing but consume me more as time moves on. “God, I’m sorry. These past few days have been a rollercoaster. Ignore me.”
“That’s understandable, babe. But don’t think you can ignore the massive bomb you’ve dropped here and get away without giving a gay man all the details. I didn’t realise things were like that between you two.”
“I can’t deny that there has been something simmering between us since the beginning. I guess our personalities spark when we are together because he’s been driving me crazy in so many ways.”
He leans forward, a wicked grin on his face. “Then give me details, woman. Enlighten me: what do you get when you cross a grizzly bear with Tarzan?”
A smile tugs the corner of my lips. “You get a big fat dose of earth-shattering sex. Jesus, Mal. That man is something else. When he kissed me—”
He holds his hand up stopping me. “Mr Grizzly made the first move?”
“Yeah.”
“So, he’s part prince too? I like him already.”
I roll my eyes. Regardless of his change in mood, I don’t think Dexter will ever be a prince. The man has too many secrets for a start. He’s a walking contradiction, and I can’t sit here and say that despite how he made me feel when inside me, I’m not anxious about how he will respond to me when I see him next.
Will he regret it?
Will he despise me even more?
What we shared that night had been more than something physical. I know it was. His kiss had been laced with so much power, conviction and a delicacy that made him vulnerable. And even with his authority and the way he’d driven into me relentlessly, there had been a demeanour around him that tied us together. He’d been strong, demanding, and had known exactly what he’d wanted, but he’d also managed to hold me with a security he’d seemed to know I needed at the time. I don’t think I can bear the thought of his rejection should he give it.
“He’s something else, Malcolm,” I murmur, avoiding eye contact. “The way he made me feel was spellbinding. And I know that sounds ridiculous because it was one night, but regardless of the shitty side of his personality, there is something about that man that I can’t shake off no matter how hard I try.”
“Whoah. This is not what I was expecting to hear from your inner bitch.”
I smile. “My inner bitch was the one that made him drop his defences in the first place and had me lose myself entirely.”
“Damn girl.”
“Do I sound stupid?”
“No. You sound borderline crazy.” He grins, circling his finger in front of my face. “But I like this look in your eyes. Maybe the man does have a heart after all.”
The ache in my stomach becomes heavy, only this time it’s for Dexter. I can’t tell Mal of his illness because it’s not my place, and I don’t want to divulge or delve into the depths of how he holds so many secrets behind his eyes—secrets I don’t think will ever come to the surface. I know Dexter has a heart but I don’t think I’ll ever know how much it’s broken.
Entering the gallery a little later than I should, I breathe a sigh of relief when I see it’s empty. The short ride here after leaving Malcolm has had me in knots as nervous excitement continues to swirl. I honestly can’t comprehend what is going on here as I’m not normally this worked up over seeing a guy after sex. But Dexter is always an exception to the rule. Placing my bag and coat on the back of my chair, I spot a little square box on the table with a pink ribbon wrapped around it to form a bow. On the name tag that is hanging down, I see my name scribbled in blue handwriting. I’m smiling before I even know what’s inside or who it is from, but as I’m about to investigate, movement catches my attention.
Finding Dexter leaning against the doorframe in his T-shirt and jeans, he does his usual downward glance of my body before his eyes come back up to meet mine. Regardless of his presence and my now pounding heart, I also need to keep in mind the arsehole that I know he can be. However, standing there, with an air of serenity around him makes him look like a totally different man to the one he was just days prior.
“Good morning, Blue.”
“Hi.”
"You’re late."
“I know, I’m sorry. It’s only a few minutes.”
“Still late.” He enters the room and walks towards the desk with his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
“Well, I would have tried calling if you had a phone.” I raise a brow, still finding it ridiculous that he hasn’t got one. “I was having breakfast with a friend. Lost track of time.”
Taking a file off the table behind me, he places it on my desk. “Can you look through these? They’re the plans I want for the gallery and the contractors that Emmet and I have been looking at. Dates need to be arranged for the work to be done, and I’m too busy to do it.”
His stare suddenly seems more intense than it ever has before, only it’s not one of hatred and aggression. The heavy scent of his body wash hits my senses, a
nd I have to fight the urge to reach out to him—to reignite the feel of him under my touch to have his tongue moving in a figure eight over the sensitive parts of my body while I come undone in his hold.
Jesus, this is going to be fucking torture.
“Y-yes, I can do that.”
“Everything alright, Blue?” His brows rise in amusement as he tries to hide the smirk on his face. He’s not stupid, he knows damn well what he’s doing to me.
“Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“You seem…” He tilts his head to the side and looks me up and down. “Tense.”
I shrug, trying to act composed, but my words are out before I can stop them. "I guess I wasn't sure how things would be between us. Or if you even wanted me here after..."
“It was just sex, Blue,” he states.
His words sting me far deeper than they should, and I hate myself for letting them affect me this way.
“I'm hardly going to fire you because of that.”
Keeping my voice level, I hit back. "You can't fire me anyway when it was Emmet that hired me in the first place." I smile sarcastically at him and sit down at my desk, hoping it will give him the hint to disappear because I can’t have him linger any longer.
I hear a low laugh leave him as he walks back over to the door and without looking he says, “Be ready for midday. We need to be somewhere.”
“Where?”
“You’ll find out when we get there.”
Once he has disappeared up the stairs, I turn my focus back to the box on my desk and pull the bow to unfasten the ribbon. When I lift the lid, a gasp leaves my throat. A collection of nine pink macaroons fills the box and the delicious smell of raspberry fills my senses.
I never told him my favourite flavour.