by Nicola Haken
I literally huffed as I slammed the office door behind me. My probably unjustified bad mood would have left as quick as it came if it wasn’t for the fact I heard the cheeky sods laughing as I stormed off. Well, what’d you know? Chris and Dexter - laughing. Together. It didn’t matter that it was at my expense. They were getting along. They were trying. For me.
The thought made me smile, and just like that, my bad mood was nothing but a memory.
“I bloody well knew it,” I grumbled out loud to myself. As expected, Chris hadn’t touched the books. I was under the impression Ernie was taking care of them while I was away but from the wads of scrunched invoices shoved into the filing cabinet I’m guessing he must’ve got distracted drinking his tea and reading his motorbike manuals.
Removing the mass of crumpled paper, I spent the rest of the day straightening them out and working through them one by one. By the time I’d finished I wasn’t even half way through but if I looked at another number my head would have exploded.
When it was time to shut up shop we all headed home together in Chris’ car. Along the way he mentioned a bookkeeping course he’d come across and asked if I wanted to attend. I agreed without hesitation. Although I’m doing a pretty good job figuring it all out on my own, I’m sure it takes me longer than it should. Going off the mess I walked into this morning, I need to do something to improve my efficiency… and fast. It was only when he started progressing onto accountancy and business management courses, I changed the subject. Why the hell would I need to know how to run a business?
Chris hopped straight in the shower when we got back to his place and while he waited for his turn Dexter sprawled out on the couch, draping a sheet over the cushions beforehand to prevent oil stains. Everything was settling into place perfectly. Was it too perfect? I couldn’t help but wonder. Would it last? Was this the calm before yet another tornedo-blowing storm?
“Don’t do that, doll,” Dexter said, pulling me from my ill-timed reverie.
“Do what?” I asked obliviously, blinking my eyes back into reality.
“Wait for it to go wrong.” Jesus, how the hell did he know? “I know you, remember? I know what all your different expressions and mannerisms mean, therefore I know when you bite your top lip and draw little imaginary circles on your knee with your finger, that means you’re doubting something.” My jaw dropped open. Did I really do that? “Don’t doubt our future, doll. Remember what Jeff said? You can’t enjoy the ride if you’re too busy obsessing over your destination.”
“Sorry,” I murmured. He was right of course. “You should shower and change soon. I told Sarah we’d be at hers for seven o’clock. Bus or taxi?”
“Ugh. I need my bike, doll.” My head lowered of its own accord and a deep sigh escaped my throat. “You can’t avoid her forever,” Dexter added, referring to Rachel. “She’s your best friend.”
“Was my best friend,” I corrected.
“Bullshit. You two are practically sisters. No matter what’s happened between you, if you ever needed each other you’d drop everything. I’ve no doubt about that.”
“Hmm,” was my copout response.
“I need my bike and you need your car. Plus all the other shit we’ve still got down there. It’s looking like we’re planning to stay up north, so we need to finish up any loose ends we’ve left in London. Call her. Text her if it’s easier. She won’t push you away, doll. She loves you.” God I hope that’s true.
“I will,” I resolved. “Just… not tonight.” Yeah I know - I’m a total wussbag. I’ll give it a couple of weeks to settle in here, then I’ll call Rachel.
I will! I swear it.
“I’m heading straight to bed, guys. I’ve got a cracking headache.”
“Another one?” I asked, concerned. “You made that doctor’s appointment yet?”
“Not yet.” I gave him a scolding glare. “I’ve been rushed off my feet since Ernie left. I’ll do it tomorrow, okay?”
“Too right you will. I’ll make sure of it.” Rolling his eyes, Chris saluted me and turned for the bedrooms.
“Right. Shower,” Dexter announced, standing from the couch. “Wanna scrub my back?” he winked. A devilish grin spread across my face.
“Not just your back.” With that, he pulled me towards the bathroom. I giggled as quietly as I could but when he pressed me against the ice-cold tiles I couldn’t prevent the squeal that burst from my lips.
I’ve never seen anyone leap into a bathtub so quickly. Not that I’d seen many people get into a bathtub at all… okay so none at all but you get my picture. Dexter was stripped bare and under the running shower stream before I’d even had chance to remove my top.
“What you waiting for, doll? Fuckin’ Christmas?”
Giggling, I removed my top and bra as quickly as I could. Then I tugged my pants down until gravity took over, pulling them to the floor, before shimmying out of my knickers and doing a sexy little shuffle as I did.
When I’d climbed into the bath and pulled the shower curtain over, Dexter handed me a bottle of masculine-smelling bodywash. He grinned wickedly as I squeezed a dollop of the cool crème into my palm and when I looked down I could see exactly what he was grinning at.
“Percy’s very dirty, doll. You might need to work a little harder scrubbing him clean.” Seriously, is that all it takes to set my insides on fire? Yep, it seemed it was.
My eyes didn’t return to his face – choosing instead to linger on the glistening beads of water hanging on for dear life along the rims of the metal rings protruding proudly from the end of his whopping great erection. After lathering the bodywash between my palms, I took hold of him and slowly started to wash him up and down. Dexter grabbed onto his hair as he tipped his head back and groaned. It was a magical sound from deep inside his chest… a sound that I’d produced. It made me feel powerful and sexy as hell. So, squeezing my fingers around his base, I worked harder and faster until he slammed one hand against the tiles and ripped my hand away from him with the other.
“This is gonna be over real quick if you keep that up, doll,” he moaned - his hungry eyes devouring my naked body. Well, damn if that didn’t make me feel like the most powerful woman in the world. “What are you…” I was on my knees with my hands grasping at his strong hips before he could finish.
“I’m taking control this time,” I whispered against his taut stomach before lowering my mouth to where we both wanted it to be. I felt brave and rebellious. It’s so unlike me to be so cock sure (pardon the pun) of myself, and it felt bloody amazing.
I started by licking the bulbous tip as warm water cascaded over our bodies. I circled the rim tantalisingly softly with my tongue until his impatient hips bucked him forward, forcing him deeper into my mouth. His ravenous eyes stared down in what looked like awe – never removing his gaze from what I was doing to him. I felt like Superwoman.
Shielding my teeth with my lips, I drew his length in and out of my mouth. Lapping up the warm water washing over him, I traced his throbbing veins with my tongue and almost fell apart myself when I felt him twitch against the back of my throat.
“Fuck, doll,” he breathed through gritted teeth. “Your mouth feels fucking incredible.” I felt myself smile against him. Every word, every moan, every breath that escaped his panting lips fuelled the power inside my body. “Seriously… you…you… you need to stop…” he tried to argue but my mouth refused to give up its relentless assault. I took him deeper, firming my lips around him and using one hand to follow the trail of my mouth while the other cupped his pulsating balls.
“Let me do this. Let me give this to you. I want to taste you,” I whispered before taking him back in my mouth. Holy crap, where had this confident, dirty-talking temptress come from? I liked her. A lot.
I worked him hard and fast with my mouth and my hand. Dexter fisted my hair and would tug a little more fervently every time I slowed down to flick my tongue across his piercings. Too soon, I could feel him getting close. He started
to swell against my lips and the intermittent twitches turned into full on impatient throbs.
“Ah, fuck, doll… are you…are you sure?” I didn’t answer. My mouth was too busy to respond. “Seriously, doll I’m gonna… I’m…I’m….” One final sweep of my tongue was all it took to throw him over the edge. With a deep growl, he thrust his hips one last time, so forcefully I almost lost my balance as I welcomed the warm and salty fluid spurting into my mouth.
Oh my God, I had never felt so… so…. amazing. So alive… so turned on. Swallowing purposely as I looked up towards Dexter’s hooded eyes, I rose to my feet. Placing my hands on his rigid chest I could feel his heart hammering against my palms. It was beating almost as fast as my own.
“Wow,” he murmured. “Just… fucking wow.” Grinning proudly I moved my hands to his shoulders, ready to pull him in for a kiss. But then my hands fell along with him as he dropped unexpectedly to his knees. Biting his bottom lip and gazing up at me with a raised, mischievous eyebrow he whispered, “your turn.”
Oooooooh…
Chapter Thirty-Four
~Dexter~
Three weeks later…
“So, where we headin’?” I asked Chris. Today is my birthday and Chris has been ordered to ‘get me out of the way’ while Emily and Aunt Sarah plan my ‘surprise’ party. Even if Chris hadn’t told me what was going on, it was pretty damn obvious. Emily’s a terrible liar. She blushes too much.
You thinking what I’m thinking? That a surprise party for a recovering addict with virtually no family and even fewer friends equates to some lame music and lemonade? Like that even mattered. I’d be spending my birthday with the most important people in my life and I couldn’t wait. Obviously Marianne couldn’t be with me, but she sent a text last night wishing me a happy day. We’ve been texting a lot over the last few weeks and speaking once every few days. It feels both amazing and completely freakin’ weird…
I’m a big brother. Fuck, that sentence still gets me every time.
“Thought we could go pick up some parts. No point wasting the day,” Chris replied, opening the door to his pickup truck and hopping inside.
“Dude, it’s my birthday. You seriously gonna make me work on my birthday?”
“Well what the fuck else am I meant to do with you? Not like I can take you down the pub for a few swift ones and I’m sure as hell not sitting in a dark cinema with a dude by my side… that leaves a stroll in the park hand in hand, or getting some work done.”
“You’re a jackass,” I spat like only a dick with no comeback would. I was totally messing around of course. Wanna hear another weird thing that’s happened over the last few weeks? And by weird, I mean completely unex-fucking-pected and utterly dumb-fucking-founding…
Chris and I are kind of… friends.
I know, right? Doesn’t make sense does it? Seems he really meant it when he said he wanted to give me a chance. There are still a few weeks to go before I start my night-classes at college but Chris has already taught me so much. He’s got a wicked sense of humor and a passion for bikes and I suppose we’ve just… clicked. Jesus, I’m starting to sound like I’m in love with the guy.
Saying all that, I don’t doubt for a second he would take my ass down if I did anything to hurt Emily, and I’m cool with that. In fact, I think it’s what I respect most about him. If I’m honest I’m still struggling to understand why he’s not waiting for me to hurt her. I’ve hardly given him any reason to assume otherwise now have I? I know this is gonna sound weird because naturally, being Emily’s big brother, he’s going to want me to treat her right… but sometimes it’s almost like he needs me –relies on me even- to do the very best by her. To take care of her. Protect her.
Ah, shit… it’s not coming out right. Obviously I want those things for Emily too and I also want to be the one to give them to her. It’s just the way he looks at her sometimes… little things he says to me…
Oh fuck it. I’m not explaining myself properly so I’m giving up. But hey, if you figure out Chris’ deal before I do, give me a heads up yeah?
“Well just remember I’m the jackass that pays your wages,” Chris replied as he twisted the key in the ignition. “You heard back from Jared?”
“I’m expecting his call any time now,” I replied. “They should be setting off soon if all goes to plan.”
Oh yeah, did I forget to mention Jared and Snickers are coming up for my surprise party-that’s-not-really-a-surprise-or-a-party party? Well, I guess technically tonight will be a surprise – just for Emily, not me.
I called Jared a couple of weeks ago and he confirmed my theory that Snickers was just as miserable about the whole ‘no longer friends’ situation as Emily. If the pair of them are too stubborn to sort it out, then it’s about time us guys stepped in. Jared and I are convinced it all started because they weren’t used to spending time apart. They both had shit going on and were usually so reliant on each other… but what do you do if the other one is busy dealing with crap too? Well, if you’re a girl – seems you get pissed and start ignoring each other.
Now that he’s screwing her (yep you heard right – they are finally a ‘thing’) he seemed pretty certain he could convince her to pluck her head out of her ass and come on up here. They were supposed to be arriving just after dinner tonight but as yet Jared hadn’t called me to confirm.
“Right I’ve just got to post these invoices,” Chris said, pulling up on the curb outside a Post Office.
“Sure,” I nodded, stretching my arms out in front of me while I prepared for a long wait. The massive line was visible from outside so I flopped my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes.
Then, almost immediately, they sprang back open when my cell started buzzing in my pocket.
Jared: Left an hour ago. Train was delayed. U told Em yet?
Me: No. Want it to be a surprise. U not driving?
Jared: Long story
Me: How’s Snickers feel about coming? Truth?
Jared: She can’t fuckin wait. Seriously mate… she just wants her friend back init.
Me: Init? Must’ve missed the memo about u movin to the ghetto
Jared: Fuck off
Laughing to myself I tucked my cell back in my pocket before reaching for my bottle of water in the cup-holder. Smacking my dry lips together, I brought the bottle eagerly to my lips and took several large gulps, feeling instantly refreshed… until my last mouthful got caught in my throat and I almost choked to freakin’ death. I swear my whole life flashed before my eyes. I’m sure you know the feeling I’m talking about. The one where you know if you breathe in you’re gonna suck it into your lungs so instead you try to cough it out. But then you’ve ran out of enough air to cough it out so you try stealing just a little. Then you choke harder… and cough more. Choke, cough, choke, cough, choke, cough… And finally…
Breathe.
So, yeah don’t worry… I didn’t die. I’m right here.
“Fuck,” I muttered out loud to myself when I looked down and saw I’d spilled water all over myself. Either that or the near death experience caused me to piss my pants without me realizing. That was a joke by the way. I can categorically state that I did not piss my pants.
After patting down the damp area with my hands and then remembering I don’t have superpowers that turn my palms into blow-heaters, I flipped down the glove compartment and fumbled around for something absorbent. This was a work truck, so I figured there had to be some paper towels or grease-stained cloths in here somewhere.
“Fuck!” I blasted, once again to absolutely no one. Tugging on what felt like the edge of a paper napkin (you know, the type you get in McDonalds) I pulled it out, bringing a shit load of other crap with it. A small pile of letters drifted to the floor and a tin of breath-mints exploded all over the place. I say exploded, what I mean is the cap wasn’t screwed on properly and they fell out.
Bending down to the foot-well, I gathered up the fallen letters and began stuffing them back w
here they came from. Fuck the mints. There were hundreds of them. I would use a vacuum later, I decided. When I’d finished I noticed one letter still by my feet. I don’t know what even made me look twice at it when I brought it up to my face. Maybe it was the blue and white NHS logo that caught my attention. Regardless, I knew I shouldn’t have kept looking, but my eyes had already started reading.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck shit and fuck.
Oncology? That’s cancer and shit right?
Fuck.
It was addressed to Chris. Chris had an outpatient appointment next week at the oncology department to discuss his results. Does Chris have… cancer?
Fuck.
Holy shit, suddenly it all started to make sense. The way he looked at Emily sometimes… like the sight of her was breaking his heart. The time he visited me in rehab and told me Emily needs someone to take care of her. This massive leap of faith he’s took in me… like he needs me to prove any doubts he has wrong.
“What the hell’s up with your mush?” Chris startled me and I tried unsuccessfully to stuff the letter back in the glove compartment before he’d slid all the way into his seat. “What was that?” he asked gravely. The speed the color drained from his face told me he knew exactly what that was.
“It was an accident. I was looking for a cloth and the whole fuckin’ thing jumped out at me.” A silence so intense you could’ve heard an ant take a dump followed and we both stared down at the offending letter – too nervous to look at each other. “What’s going on Chris?” Jesus, my voice actually trembled. I was so freakin’ scared of his answer. “Are you sick or something?”
Risking a glance in his direction, Chris’ back stiffened and his nostrils flared. I braced myself, expecting a punch in the face for going through his stuff. My mouth dried out and my throat swelled up as I awaited the pain I was about to feel in my nose. But then the hard line of his mouth softened and he ran both hands through his short red hair.