Admit It

by Francesca Penn

  Her heartrate kicked back up, and goosebumps shimmied up her arms. She’d become hyper-aware of her surroundings; she knew he was there before he spoke. A warm sweater engulfed her shoulders and for the second time that night, she was surrounded by his scent.

  “This will keep you warm.”

  His lips were close to her ear. Her increasingly dirty mind conjured up a montage of hot animal sex that she’d often heard about but had yet to experience. There was an aura around him that, if she had to describe it, she’d say tangled sheets and sweaty bodies. Speaking of bodies, hers was currently begging her brain to shut the hell up and let it lead. If her body was in charge, she’d be finding out exactly how sturdy the balcony’s rail was.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  He was standing directly behind her, and she could feel the heat radiating off his body. Cayla was torn. She wanted him to touch her. Yet, she didn’t want him to touch her. She was so wrapped up in her dilemma that she hadn’t realized the countdown to midnight started. Then the reason for his sudden appearance became clear.

  “Three…Two…One,” he whispered in her ear.

  The sensation traveled down her lobe, through her body and settled in her lady parts. His big hands turned her to face him, and she was powerless to stop him. His gray eyes were smoky heat as he studied her face. His right hand cupped her cheek as he slid his thumb across her bottom lip again. The simple caress still had the power to set her on fire.

  “Happy New Year.”

  Three simple words whispered in a husky tone made his statement far more sexual than she would have ever imagined. Her eyes fell to his lips; they looked so kissable and inviting. Dex leaned in and his lips touched hers. Cayla’s brain flipped off the lights, turned the sign to “closed”, and went home for the night. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and her fingers tangled in his thick, sandy hair. Strong arms pulled her against his body, one warm hand splayed on her back and other grabbed her ass pulling her closer.

  She gasped, and he took advantage by deepening the kiss. His tongue slid in her mouth and teased her in the most erotic kiss she’d ever experienced. She couldn’t help but moan against his talented mouth. The fireworks that exploded and sparkled in the January night’s sky were secondary; every part of her existed for his kiss. Her hardened nipples rubbed deliciously against his chest, and her center begged for his attention. He laced his fingers in her hair and pulled her head back and nipped at her neck.

  “Six weeks, Cayla.”

  He was gone as fast as he came. Cayla shook her head to clear the lust fog; she needed to get ready for the ceremony.

  Chapter 3

  Dex felt the beat of the drums reverberate through his body. La Tamborrada was in full swing and the residents of San Sebastian, Spain, crowded the cobbled streets dressed in various costumes. This was something he was excited to experience. He arrived in time to see the town transition from a quiet community into a twenty-four-hour drum festival. The beats bounced off the beautiful, ancient buildings, and the crowd danced and cheered as several regiments of drummers of all ages and genders paraded through the town. The outfits were a mixture of soldiers, classic maidens, and cooks.

  Dex grinned as the “cooks” marched by with life sized utensils. He identified well with their passion for food. His passion did cause him to switch his business degree path to culinary arts which almost got him killed by his father. Dex smiled to himself and sent his mother a silent thank you. He wasn’t sure he’d be alive today without her. His dad didn’t try to hit him, but his eyes conveyed a series of violent acts.

  The energy of the town was intoxicating, and he wished he had a costume and a drum. It was a wonderfully loud and bold celebration, and the people were eager to participate despite the chilly weather. He watched from the window of the apartment he’d rented for the week. He wanted to be in the middle of the madness but also have the ability to seek alone time if necessary. It wasn’t until a little later in the day when he decided to venture outside. Since it lasted for exactly twenty-four hours, midnight to midnight, he figured he had plenty of time to get in the mist of the hubbub. Dex shrugged into his jacket and grabbed some earplugs just in case the drums were deafening. His stomach urged him to go out and find the Pintxos.

  After hours of eating, toasting, learning new songs, and watching the action of the festival, he was ready for bed. He took a good shower and was out in time to see the end of the festival. He didn’t get settled in bed until a little past two o’clock in the morning. His body was still awake, so he just lay in bed staring at the ceiling. He blew a frustrated sigh into the darkness.

  The excitement he’d usually felt just wasn’t there. Dex didn’t feel any enthusiasm for mastering a new dish. He didn’t long for the next destination in his journey or to check out the women. Over the past three weeks, he’d created different ways to try to enjoy his annual food exploration trip.

  He’d engrossed himself in the culture, met different head chefs in different Spanish cities, brushed up on his Spanish, learned regional dishes - Cocido madrileno in Madrid, Pallea in Valencia, and Suquet de Peix, Fideuà, Crema Catalana, and Mel i Mato in Barcelona – but nothing worked. His disloyal mind constantly ran across the ocean like a refugee; apparently, his head was a hostile territory, and Cayla was a haven. Dex tried to exorcise her from his mind; he’d given himself speeches, pep talks…hell, he’d even tried diatribes. Yet, there she was constantly at the forefront of his thoughts. I shouldn’t have kissed her. Dex pulled the crisp linen up his naked chest to try to cool the heat that spread through his body.

  He’d done kinky shit to quite a few women and never given it a second thought. But, here he was wide awake in a completely different country reliving one kiss. One hot, delectable, earth shattering kiss. Dex groaned and rolled to his side. The covers were now to his ears, but his traitorous body was already starting to respond to the memory. Giving in, he let the memories he’d been trying to suppress for three weeks flow.

  Cayla’s soft body was pressed against his. “Happy New Year,” he’d said. She didn’t respond but stared at his lips as if she was dying and they were some sort of lifeline. Their lips touched, and Dex felt like he could float. Her soft, hot body pressed into his. Her scent flirted with his nostrils. Dex groaned when his hand slid over her soft ass. His heart drummed in his body and all his blood ran south. Her mouth opened for him and when his tongue slid home, he was in heaven. He’d been waiting and wanting to kiss her for months, and his lust turned into a deep, almost desperate need.

  He broke the kiss and disappeared before he could beg her to spend the night with him. He’d never had to beg. Hell, sometimes he didn’t have to ask. His brother was fifteen minutes away from becoming his best friend’s husband, and he was trying to reenact a majorly unoriginal ploy. The best man fucking the Maid of Honor at the wedding. His body was so primed that he had to recite the Italian alphabet in his head. Backwards.

  When Cayla appeared in her bridesmaid’s dress, he’d prayed that invisibility was possible. The last thing he needed was to be hard in front of half of Houston. Her dress was black and impossibly tight. The long sleeves were lace and so was the rest of the dress. The lining was made to look as if Cayla was naked underneath the lace. And the illusion was doing incredible and terrible things to his mind. Fuck! He switched to Latin. Zēta, ī Graeca, ix…Luckily, the bodice of the dress didn’t reveal any cleavage.

  Dex wondered if Kalilah put her sister in that dress just to fuck with him. He’d momentarily scowled at her as she walked down the aisle. But, she was beautiful in her cream, long sleeved dress. Like her sister, her dress was form-fitting. The front dipped in a V that stopped a couple of inches before her navel. It was enough to be sexy, and the rest was simple enough for her to still look elegant. The intricate pattern in the beading circled her waist and imitated a belt. The same beading accented the top of her shoulders. The partially translucent sleeves fell and ended in subtle lace. She smiled at his brother t
he whole way down the aisle. Their eyes met for a moment, and the twinkle in her eye confirmed his suspicion. He would get her back. He didn’t know how or when, but she would pay.

  Dex’s eyes must have conveyed his mission because Kalilah giggled slightly before turning to Nick to begin the ceremony. And just like that, a few heartfelt vows, tears of joy from both mothers marrying off their oldest children, and one hell of a wedding kiss later, they’d gained an additional Sinclair. Dex was about to pat himself on the back for making it through the entire ceremony without having one salacious thought, but his pride sunk like a boat with a big ass hole. Cayla’s dress was backless.

  Dex was fully aroused; there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He could take matters into his own hands, so to speak, but it would just make him want her more. Dex stared at the silhouette of his imitation of a tent pole. Enough! Dex rolled onto his back and did what he’d been avoiding since he’d left Houston.

  Cayla sunk into her couch and sighed. It was finally Friday night and unlike other people her age, she was perfectly content with staying in. Of course, she loved going out to happy hour or a good girl’s night but her “girls” were out of town and her other friends – okay, who was she kidding – acquaintances wanted to club hop. No thank you. Cayla was not interested in dropping it low, sweeping the floor, or picking anything up slow. She also wasn’t letting anyone “see it,” nor was she backing her thing up for a guy in terrible clothes with horrible breath.

  “No, you can’t buy me a drink.” She scowled at the memory.

  Nope, sipping her creamy S’mores hot chocolate and donning the world’s plushest pajamas after a wonderful soak were giving her all the life she needed. She really couldn’t ask for anything more. Liar. Her mind was a bitch. Okay, if she was being completely honest with herself, a good orgasm would be wonderful after the long week she had. Cayla took a tentative sip of her hot chocolate because the last thing she needed was singed lips. An assessment of her extremely brief sex life told her that it was time to put herself out there again.

  Aside from Nick and his astonishing feat of self-control, no one her age had a one-partner sex history. In her defense, it was little after college, and they did have an active sex life. Jackson had everything she thought she wanted; he had smooth chocolate skin and a sexy body. He was smart and had a great sense of humor, but he couldn’t quite get her there during sex. She’d never learned how to give a blow job. Jackson was also anti-oral, unless he was receiving – which he didn’t, and when she would try to help him get her there by touching herself he’d move her hand and say stuff like he was enough. Cayla rolled her eyes at the memory. Apparently not. Eventually, their differences in bed ended their relationship. He said she was boring.

  Cayla truly believed that sex was just sex, and all the movies, books, and songs were full of shit – until she heard other women’s stories and - Good God - some of the things Kalilah told her had her second-guessing her previous assumptions. She’d read that some women couldn’t achieve an orgasm through intercourse and started to accept that she was one of them. Even with that, she was sure she could have fun other ways. She just needed to do it with someone. Cayla catalogued all the guys that had asked her out over the last few months and shot each of them down with flaming arrows. Nope. Nope. Hell nawl! She had no intentions of kissing any of them, so it was a very cold chance in hell that they would see her naked without the help of leaked photos.

  Her body tingled, and she ignored it by taking another sip of her chocolate goodness. She refused to spend another minute on a kiss that made her feel more than Jackson ever did. Scratch that. Hearing Dex’s name made her feel more than Jackson ever did. She raised the volume on the Hallmark channel and tried to drown her thoughts with made-for-television cinema.

  She was one cup of hot chocolate down when she realized watching love stories wasn’t the right move while re-evaluating her own love life. Cayla briefly wondered if she would be considered a loser for going to bed at 9:30 PM on a Friday night. Who gives a shit? After turning off the television and washing her mug, she snuggled in her bed with her sleeping mask over her eyes. What? She was sensitive to light. She didn’t share the same love affair with the bed as Kalilah and Nick, but she did like comfort. A content sigh escaped her lips once she found her spot.

  Then her damn phone buzzed. Luckily it was mere inches from her spot. She didn’t have to put much effort to reach it or remove her sleep mask. Winning!

  “Hello?”

  “You sound comfortable.” The world’s sexiest voice fucking shattered her bubble of contentment and flung her emotions into an epic battle between fear and desire. “Tell me. Are you in bed already?” The way he said bed gave desire the advantage; it junk-punched fear and did a victory dance on its face.

  “And if I was?” Who the hell said that? Cayla shook her head. It appeared that her mouth was operating independent of her brain. His sexy chuckle made her not care.

  “Well…” he rasped. “I would have to ask you what you are wearing.”

  Man, it was amazing how his words could raise her core body temperature. She smiled in the dark.

  “The plushest and coziest winter pajamas I could find.” There, that should slow him down. “You?”

  “Hmmm. Boxer briefs, maroon to be exact. Are you cold, honey? What me to warm you up?” Oh no. Cayla was happy she had a waterproof mattress protector because he just melted her. She tried to imagine Dex lying in bed practically naked; he was probably all muscle and delicious. She longed to see the tattoo of which she’d only seen hints.

  “That’s hard to do from another country, Dex.” Her voice sounded breathier than she remembered.

  Dex laughed again. “True, but there are ways to solve that issue. I could fly you out for the last two weeks if you wanted to come.”

  The way he said “come” was thick with double entendre. Everything sexual inside of her yelled “YOLO Bitch!” Cayla started to mentally calculate her paid vacation time. She had three weeks’ worth, and it was almost the end of January; if she only planned on working until June 1st, she would still have one week and a few days…what in the hell was she doing?

  “I don’t have a passport.” It was sad and true. She’d never really had a reason to leave the country, and now she was paying for it. It was more alarming that she’d considered going.

  Dex sighed. “It would have been fun, Cayla.”

  Hearing him say her name was such a turn on. She was so hot that her previously comfortable pajamas started feel like a fiery death trap. She flung the pajamas off before they could kill her. She sighed when her arms and legs felt the cool air.

  “Did you just strip?” His voice was thick with desire.

  “I’m not naked if that’s what you’re asking. I still have on my tank top and underwear.” Cayla didn’t realize the implication of her words until they were out of her mouth. She rubbed her hand on her face and sunk deeper into the bed. She’d just given him ammo.

  Dex’s groan was guttural. “Now I wish I’d chosen Puerto Rico this year…”

  “Puerto Rico?” Cayla wasn’t making the connection with his change of destination.

  “Yes. US territory, no passport needed.” Cayla’s entire body throbbed.

  “Why are you awake right now? Isn’t it late there?”

  “Yeah. Three something in the morning.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Couldn’t sleep. I was thinking about you, so I called.”

  “With which head?” She rolled her eyes. Shut the hell up, Cayla.

  “Both.”

  One word made her wet. He was in a different country, and she was aroused like he was in bed with her. She was glad he wasn’t in Puerto Rico because she was horny enough to go to the airport immediately. Phone sex did sound more appealing than ever. She squeezed her legs together to ease the ache.

  “Uh, what…were you thinking about?” She wanted to know, and she didn’t want to know. He was candid, and she had no idea what would co
me out of his mouth.

  She heard his sheets rustle when he repositioned himself in his bed. “Are you sure you want to know, Cayla?” It was like he read her mind.

  No. “Yes.” Her heart was pounding, and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

  “Your bridesmaid’s dress.”

  “My dress?” That was the last thing she’d expected him to say.

  “Yes, you looked very sexy in it.” His voice dropped an octave. “I’d much rather slide it off your body and watch it fall on my bedroom floor, if I’m being honest. That is what I was thinking about, then I couldn’t sleep because I was too turned on.” He sighed. “So, I decided to call the source of my issue.”

  Cayla ignored her upset nipples; they were extremely annoyed with her lack of a passport. “So, how big was your…issue?” What the hell? When did her brain turn into late night Cinemax? She was mortified about her apparent diarrhea of the mouth.

  A sexy chuckle emitted from the speaker of her phone. “Did you just low key ask me about the size of my junk?”

  Cayla blushed in the dark. “I was just trying to get a clear picture of the overall issue.”

  “I see. Hold on, okay?” She heard Dex moving around and wondered what he was doing. Maybe it was time for a bathroom break. She heard the sheets rustle again before he returned. “Do you have Snapchat?”

  Cayla nodded, happy about the change of subject. “Yes. Have you been sharing all of your adventures in Spain?”

  “Uh huh. What’s your username?” They exchanged information and connected. Cayla figured he was a new user since his profile picture was still the little ghost. There was a lull in the conversation; Dex was probably looking at her Snaps. Cayla searched her memory to recall what she’d posted. She’d only posted one selfie in the car with the flower headband. Good.