by K. L. Jessop
I lean back in my seat and shrug as if it’s no big deal, trying to ease the path of the conversation. “It’s the journalist in me.”
Placing a sterile dressing on my leg to keep it clean, he frowns. “Since when did you do that?"
"I don't. Not anymore anyway."
"Why not?"
My stomach knots, and I see Persie so clearly it’s like she’s physically standing in the room. "Because life is cruel."
He holds my gaze, but his eyes are unreadable. Taking the JD bottle from me, he takes a mouthful before placing the bottle back on the table. Once again, he’s turned the conversation around so he avoids the questions I’m still wanting answers to.
"You never answered my question."
"Which was?"
"If you ever get lonely."
His head drops between his shoulders and I’m waiting for his temper to rocket, that fierce growl of his yelling at me to go. But I stop all attempts of him saying anything when I sit forward and place my hand on his. When his head rises and brown eyes flash to mine, it’s like I’ve reopened an old wound of his own. The depth of his solitude and the vulnerability in his beautiful hues take my breath away. He’s not lonely: he’s completely lost.
"As I said, it's better that way."
"Why?" I whisper.
“I'm not a good person, Pepper."
"Why would you say that?" My thumb instinctively rubs the back of his hand as a raw heartache clouds his features.
When he whispers back his reply, I have to blink back tears.
"Because life is cruel."
His eyes never leave mine as we share a new kind of intimacy. It’s as though we are both stripped bare, reliving our anguish through words and silence, reading each other’s souls and making ourselves helplessly exposed at the hands of each other. He’s been hurt. He is broken and is trying hard to stay afloat.
His words have left me feeling bruised, the ache in my heart doubled. I want to know more. I need to know everything, but Dexter is not a man you can push and I’m also not the girl who is willing to take every hit.
“I think we have more in common then we realise.”
“How so?”
“Life seems to have hurt us both somehow.”
“It doesn’t make us the same.
“No, but we want the same things in order to take the pain away.” Still holding his gaze, I whisper. “I’m not the enemy in this game, Dexter.”
His eyes darken. “I know. You’re a move that I never saw coming.”
The honesty in his husky voice makes everything around me stop and every nerve ending within me pound with a need I can’t comprehend. Like a magnet being pulled, I straddle him. My heart is hammering, my mouth so close to his, and I make no attempts to move away because I can’t. His hands on my hips may be keeping me in place, but it’s this hypnotic connection that seems to come from him that has paralysed me completely. Closing my eyes, I rest my forehead against his, wanting to fall deeper into his acceptance. Needing him to let his guard down.
“Should I go?” I whisper, regretting my words as soon as they leave me.
“I don’t think I want you to.”
I open my eyes at his declaration. I know he means what he says, but I can see the edge of uncertainty within him. He’s fighting, what war I’m unsure, but it’s one I don’t want him to fight alone.
My body yearns for more as he pulls me closer and caresses the small of my back. His eyes hold my lips captive as if he’s asking them a silent question, fighting the desire within him as though he's struggling to get a hold on things that are clearly developing between us. I don’t like it. I don’t want him to feel like this. Not because he’s fighting me, but because he’s battling with himself.
As I lightly trace my fingers over his cheek, I bring his gaze back to me and whisper, "Dexter, it's okay to want this." I don’t want him to see the reassurance I’m giving him: I want him to feel it. He lets my words settle before he replies.
“You’re playing with fire, Pepper.”
“Yet you’re the one that’s handed me the match.”
His lips connect with mine, and I open them for his tongue to slip so deep it’s as though he draws the shudder out of me. Tingles race all the way to my toes as I’m consumed with the solidity of his body that I’m now flush against. My fingers lace through his rough hair as his hands hold my body like he never wants to let go. He kisses me with intent, dancing his tongue with mine and awakening every part of me like never before. He tastes like daydreams and darkness and everything I should be running from. But I can’t. And I don’t think I want to.
I lift his T-shirt over his head before I trail my fingers down the cut muscles of his shoulders and torso. His skin is on fire, and the bulge pressing against his jeans makes heat flood my underwear. A sexy groan leaves him as I grind against him, wanting him everywhere as the pulse between my thighs strums so hard, I can barely breathe.
“I need you.”
The buttons to the front of my dress come open one by one as he agonisingly undoes them in a slow motion that makes me want to rip the material from him. I’m near naked—all but my underwear—when my dress is discarded, and the look of pure pleasure in his eyes says a thousand words as his hands caress every part of me, in the places I’m needing him the most. That wicked look in his eyes only tells me he’s enjoying this torment. He’s driving me crazy on so many levels that when he touches me, I’m going to explode.
“You’re driving me insane. Please touch me.”
He grins against my neck, planting kisses. The ache in me for him is unbearable.
“What if I don’t want to touch you?” The teasing tone in his voice has me grinding harder against him. I’m aching and it’s unbearable.
“Then I’ll do it myself.”
“You’ll ride your hand whilst sitting on my lap? You wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Don’t underestimate me.”
He quirks a brow, looking at me as if I am talking bullshit.
When it comes to sex, there is something about this man that brings out a confidence in me I didn’t know I had. Needing a release, I slip my fingers into my wetness. My head tips back as I circle over my sex, eliciting a wild deep growl from Dexter.
“Holy shit, Blue.”
He tears my thong and my stomach tightens in anticipation. His lips are parted, his fingertips digging into my hips as he watches me intensely. The look of pure seduction on his face entices me on as the rise of my orgasm starts to build.
“Dexter…” My body begins to tremble with my release, but like the arsehole he is, he pulls my hands away and pins them behind my back.
“You bastard,” I breathe, my frustration beyond dangerous as he chuckles in my ear.
“Like I said before: patience, little Blue.”
“You and your patience can go fuck yourself.”
His head drops and his tongue figure-eights in the dip of my neck, his free hand covering my breast. “You are naughty.”
I want him to devour me in every way. I need him so much more than I expected it scares me.
“Then take me to bed and fuck the naughty out of me.”
Without another word, he grips my waist and stands, striding over to the mattress on the floor and laying me down in the middle. On his knees, he starts his trails of seduction and decorates my body in wet kisses from my ankle all the way up. My chest rises and falls with the anticipation and the greed of needing him so bad, and when he teases my pussy with one, long sweep of his tongue, my hips rise, and I cry out. The blissful torture of his mouth continues up my body, the tip of his tongue circling over my nipple before moving across to the other. Working his way up my neck, he nips and sucks the tender skin behind my ear. I can’t take any more, I’m falling apart with a release I need so badly.
“Dexter, I need to come.”
His hot breath hits my ears. “Not yet.”
I grip the sheets in desperation as he descends my body and repe
ats the same action, working over the areas he’s already teased and finishing off with another swipe of his tongue along my sex. I cry out with frustration and need, but he only leaves the bed to stand. Taking a step back, his eyes lock with mine as he steps out of his jeans. His hard cock, flat against his stomach as he begins to stroke himself.
“However did I get so lucky to claim you.”
His honest words make my heart squeeze but he’s not the only one that is lucky. Standing there before me completely naked as the soft glow of the room highlights him, he has no idea how beautiful he is. I’m finding it hard to regulate my breathing as an influx of emotions swarms my bloodstream.
“I need you, Dexter. Please don’t make me wait.”
He’s on me once more, the tip of his cock teasing my entrance as his words come out on a sexy growl that relights my body with fresh flames.
“I’m going to fuck you now and I’m going to make you come again and again and again until the only reason you are begging is for me to stop.” He sets his teeth down on my earlobe. “You want to play with fire, Little Blue: I’ll give you a fucking inferno.”
He slams into me, taking my breath and all my control in one thrust. He pins my hands above my head as he takes me like I knew he would: hard and deep. I’m a hot mess of feelings, a mind full of questions and a heart that continues to expand for him whenever we are together. In the mix of hard passion, he kisses and caresses me with a gentleness that I can’t comprehend. Everything about this man and what he’s doing to me is extra-terrestrial, and regardless of the words he’s yet to say and the life he keeps close to his chest, I know one way or another he’s going to ruin me. And what scares me more than ever is I fear I will let him.
Chapter Eighteen
Dexter
I don’t know how long I’ve been watching Pepper sleep; all I know is I started when it was dark and now the rising sun highlights the beautiful curves of her body as it shines down on her through the windows. If I had to guess what angels looked like, the woman lying in my bed would be it. I can’t draw my eyes away from her. This foreign feeling, I have when it comes to her is unnerving, but if I’m honest, I don’t think I want it to end.
It was no lie when I’d said I’ve never had a woman in my home, in my bed. I’ve made sure my walls are so high no one can ever climb them, yet one look at this woman and they start to crumble instantly.
I’d been out on my balcony when I heard the commotion of car horns and screeching tires, and the next thing I’d seen was her yellow scooter crashing to the ground. Before I knew it, I’d been racing down the metal steps from my rooftop, heading towards her. My stomach had felt heavy, my chest tight, and at that moment, my anxiety over her safety had been off the scale. The look on her face had been pure distress, and I’d needed to do whatever it took in order to take that from her.
What she doesn’t realise is that when I’d pulled her into my arms and her body pressed against mine, I’d become just as terrified. The conflict I had brought on by trying to push her away was removed within seconds and I’d been left stripped bare and vulnerable against a woman who has the ability to knock down my wall of thorns and dispel the endless shadows.
As much as I’d wanted to tell her to go, I hadn’t been able to. How could I? I haven’t been myself for days, and that has nothing to do with this sickness inside of me. She intoxicates me in a way I loathe to admit. She takes my wild thoughts to a different place, and when she's with me, I experience a feeling of being protected that I never thought I’d ever receive.
But this terrifies me more than anything. It was never meant to be like this. She was never meant to have this effect on me, and I fear I won’t win in this game.
Her soft moan filters through the large space as she stretches out in the bed. As she sits up to find me sitting on the kitchen chair watching her, black bed-hair a disarray of tangles, her plump pink lips spread to a smile. Her sweet voice yet again soothes all anxieties I’m currently feeling.
“You look like you’ve been there most of the night."
"Because I have.” I regret my words when I see disappointment cloud her eyes, a reaction that has me walking towards her instantly to comfort her. Sitting on the floor beside the mattress, I rest my arm on my bent knee as I take in her features.
"Hi.” Her whisper and the bat of her long lashes unearths a smile from me. She looks fresh, comfortable and damn fucking beautiful as she holds the bedsheet up over her breasts. My dick twitches at the thought of her naked, sparking that arousal inside me that she has the power to generate so greatly.
"Hi.” I reach out to tuck her hair behind her ear. “How are you feeling?"
"Like I’ve been violated in the best way.”
Last night had been a night full of sex, screams and sensations that left me wanting more, regardless of how hard I’d tried to fight it. She’s hypnotic. A beautiful disaster.
“Good to know. But I meant your leg.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks flush. “Well, it’s a little sore. I might get it checked out later once I’ve—" she looks down at her watch, her eyes wide when they reconnect with mine. “Shit, the time. I need to let the builders into the gallery."
I press my hand on her shoulder to stop her from leaving the bed. “Relax, I already did it while you were sleeping." Just before eight-thirty, the guys had turned up to start the work, so I’d let them in as she looked too peaceful to wake. She needed to rest.
“You did?”
“I did. Now hear me when I say take the day off.”
“Dexter. I can’t.”
I eye her with the commandment. “You can and you will. That’s an order.”
Her only reply is a wider smile as she leans closer. I resist the temptation to kiss her and instead brush my fingers against her exposed skin below her breast and capture her reaction. She inhales a shaky breath as her eyes drift close for a second before they lock on mine once again and those ocean blues are warm with desire.
Just a touch and she’s transfixed.
“So… does that mean I'm good to stay a little bit longer?"
Yes.
"Only if you want."
“But do you want me to? That’s the number one question.”
She links her arms around my neck and wiggles her brows playfully.
I try to fight back the grin but it’s no use. “Say something that might convince me it’s a good idea.”
"Have I told you how much I really like morning sex?"
I chuckle, my dick straining against my joggers as I pull the sheet from under her. "I can't say you have."
"Well," she says against my lips. "I really really like morning sex."
I capture her soft lips with mine before I part them to slip my tongue inside, falling down with her as she guides us onto the bed. She loosens the band in my hair and runs her fingers through the locks to create red-hot tingles across my body as I grind against her. This woman makes me weak—has the power to take my demons for a while and push them aside like I’ve been trying to do forever—but at the same time, I don’t like feeling the vulnerability when she takes all my control.
“You are hard to resist,” I admit. “And I don’t like it.”
Her back arches off the bed and a moan leaves her lips when I push two fingers inside her hot, wet pussy. I want her screams. I want her pleasure. I want her beautiful body at my mercy.
“Fuck, Dexter,” she gasps. My fingers make friends with her G-spot as she pulls and tugs at the skin and muscles of my back, the balls of her feet pressing into my arse cheeks as she pushes my joggers down to release me. My body aches to be inside her. She’s trembling, desperate, and it makes me fucking high to watch her fall apart from my touch.
“I should hate you for how weak you make me when it comes to sex,” she pants as I graze her nipple with my teeth.
“You were the one that suggested it. I could have quite easily walked away.”
“Liar.” Her hand grasps the sheets as I press m
y thumb against her clit to add more pressure. Her pussy gets tighter by the second, her breathing rapid, as the pulse at the dip of her neck pounds against her skin like it’s the lifeline that keeps us connected. Making her weak is what she thrives on. Seeing her come undone is what entices me on.
“I don’t lie.”
Her words come out in pleasured stutters. “No. But you… can’t walk away from this… even if you wanted to.”
It’s like a blow to the stomach—not because of what she said but because what she said is true. She may want to hate me for making her weak, but I loathe her for making me this damn defenceless. I had everything in order until she showed up. When her orgasm breaks, I remove my fingers and slide them into her mouth so she can taste herself, dipping my head so I can suck the rest of her flavour off my thumb before plunging my tongue between her lips and kissing her with an urgency that drives me wild.
Shifting positions, I roll onto my back for her to straddle me. “Ride me,” I growl as her hot pussy presses against me. She doesn’t do what I’ve asked. Instead, she places her palm flat against my chest, locks her eyes with mine and shifts her hips so her wetness slides over the full length of my cock. Back and forth she drives her clit over me, her head tilting back on a moan, her nails biting into my chest as another orgasm rips through her. It’s erotic. It’s fire. It’s fucking everything and I’m fighting hard not to explode all over myself.
“Pepper. I need you.”
She positions herself before dropping down so I fill her completely.
Fuck, she is everything I shouldn’t be wanting.
Her heavy breasts bounce, her creamy skin now a ray of pink as the morning heat and work out paints every inch of her. Her eyes are intense with lust as her sexy mouth parts as she rides. “Oh, God.”
I sit forward and run the tip of my tongue up the soft skin between her breasts, nipping the skin along her collarbone before I suck her neck and brand her as mine.
“God isn’t the one making you feel this high, Little Blue.”
The need for release is deadly. The rush of my climax races through my body causing my arse cheeks to tighten with the onslaught that is going to rip me apart in seconds.