The Dex-Files (Experiment in Terror #5.7)

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The Dex-Files (Experiment in Terror #5.7) Page 10

by Halle, Karina


  “Put yourself in my shoes Perry, please,” I begged. “She’s my girlfriend, you’re my partner. What was I supposed to do? Who was I supposed to protect?”

  She closed her eyes, shutting me out. It felt like she was giving up. I didn’t want the fire to die in her, I just wanted her to give me a chance to explain.

  I sighed and let go of her hands. I didn’t even know if explaining would help.

  She slowly walked away without giving me a glance. Perry was defeated, and after all the strength I’d seen in her lately, it pained me to know it was me who did it to her.

  “Baby,” I called out to her, my voice trailing in the cold air.

  “Don’t you fucking call me that!” she exploded. “You don’t get to. Especially after what you just said.”

  She was hurt. More hurt and angry than I had thought.

  Why? What else was there?

  I took a few cautious steps toward her. “Why is this bothering you?”

  She let out an evil laugh. I couldn’t see her face but I knew there was no humor in it. “Heaven forbid this should bother me.”

  “Did you want me to tell you?” I asked carefully.

  “What the hell do you think?”

  “Did you think I owed it to you?” And there I was again, digging, poking, looking for something to satisfy me. God, I knew what I wanted to hear.

  Did she?

  “I guess,” she admitted. “I would have told you.”

  “Why?” I coaxed. I took another step toward her.

  She slowly turned her head to look at me, maybe to warn me not to come any closer.

  “Because...” her voice trailed off. I saw the outline of her throat as she swallowed hard. “You’re...”

  What? I’m what?

  “Perry,” I said, my voice shaking a bit.

  She was now looking at the ground. In the shadows I could see her brow contracting. She was having an inner argument with herself. I didn’t know if the side I wanted to win - would win.

  “What?” Fear rippled from her in waves.

  She knew what I was going to ask. And I had to ask it anyway.

  After all these months together, sleeping in the same bed, the night in the tent, the way my thoughts revolved around her very essence twenty-four hours a day. After almost dying, always saving each other, always pushing and pulling and hurting each other. I had to know how she really felt.

  If she answered yes, I’d give in. And I’d tell her everything I was hiding. Everything I fought against every day. I would tell her the truth.

  No more lies.

  “Are you in love with me?”

  And there. It was out there. I was admitting nothing myself but it had to be obvious that I was asking for a reason. That I wanted her to say yes. I needed her to say she loved me.

  Then I would be a bit safer when I fell.

  Her eyes went wide at the question. I guess it caught her off guard. Or she was a good actress. She’d certainly improved on camera.

  “Excuse me?” she squeaked.

  I took a few more steps toward her, filling her with my shadow.

  “Do you love me?”

  Please say yes.

  Oh fuck, say yes Perry.

  There was nothing but silence. That was bullshit. I had to know.

  “Perry,” I said again, more urgent. “Do you love me?”

  She breathed in deep, a short sharp sound. She steadied herself and looked me in the eye. I looked back. There was no softness there. It was only hard edged and glinting, like a sword. That stabbing blade.

  “No,” she said simply. “I don’t.”

  I was wrong. I had it all turned around.

  I didn’t put the sword into her. I only gave her the sword.

  She’s the one who just put it in me.

  MAXWELL’S SILVER HAMMER

  Sometimes things end out of the blue; one minute it’s going, next minute…it’s gone. Sometimes they crumble slowly, like your favorite pair of boxer briefs. You wear them every day cuz they cup your balls just so and don’t ride up the legs and sooner or later they become a second skin. You even avoid washing them too often, as rank as that is, because you fear the washing machine will agitate things, shake them up, pull apart those fibers. But eventually, it’s going to end. Your underwear will disintegrate. One tug in a fit of mindless passion or just pulling them down to use the can, and SNAP. There’s nothing left to hold it together. You’re naked. And your ass is cold.

  I knew things were over, really over, when I was about to pull my own underwear off. And couldn’t.

  Jenn had gotten out of the shower and was done slathering her naked body with that Victoria’s Secret arsenic-scented lotion. She was flashing me the come hither eyes, the ones that usually created a 0 to 60 boner in five seconds. But though the lil dude got a bit hard – it does that when I see naked women, I can’t help it – it never got past the chubby stage.

  And that’s when I knew this was it. This was the end. If we didn’t have sex, what did we have? Nothing. Absolutely butt-fuck nothing. Just a pair of miserable people hanging onto each other for the sake of…I don’t know? Not companionship. Not love. Maybe Fear. Boredom.

  Loathing.

  “What’s wrong?” she purred. She didn’t understand why my hands weren’t pulling down my drawers, why I wasn’t stroking myself in anticipation.

  What was wrong? Are you really that clueless? I thought. It was all hitting me now like a ton of bricks. How about Perry, Rebecca and Emily being just outside the door? How about finding out you’ve been fucking screwing around behind my back for who the hell knows how long? And with Bradley? Sir Swagger Douchington the Fuck?

  I didn’t say these things though. I didn’t want her to know that I knew. I just knew it was done for. And whatever chance I had for happiness, happiness that I didn’t really deserve, it wasn’t in our bedroom. It wasn’t with a Wine Babe in all her gorgeous, black-souled glory. It was out in the kitchen. Where a brave, dark-haired beauty was giggling with her new friends.

  “I’m not in the mood,” I said brusquely as she started reaching for my waistband. I had forgotten that she liked it when I said no. Not that I ever really said no.

  She wiggled her perfect bum in the air. Anyone else would have said I was gay for not being turned on by Jenn there on all fours, golden naked honey on white sheets. But making out with a guy seemed like a mighty fine alternative to getting sucked into a vortex of lies and fake nails.

  “Dex,” she said, her voice getting pitchy.

  “I need to get ready. So do you, it’s a big night and we’re running out of time,” I told her and stepped far out of her reach. To cement my point I quickly slipped on my black dress pants. They were itchy as hell and rarely worn but I wanted to look good tonight. I had someone else I needed to impress. I hoped they would do my ass justice.

  I ignored Jenn, turning my back to her and searching for matching socks. I was sort of mindlessly looking, purposely busying myself until she dropped it and lost interest. It didn’t take too long. Jenn knew she had to get ready too and I’d bet my dog’s farts that she was trying to impress Perry as well.

  I heard her sigh and get off the bed. She slipped some ugly 80’s 80s Kim Cattrall type dress over her head, pottered about finding her heels, then finally left the room.

  As soon as the door clicked shut, I breathed out a sigh of relief. Believe it or not, I felt a bit bad. Jenn’s self-esteem was surprisingly fragile and I didn’t like going out to a party with both of us off-kilter. But then again, she brought this on herself. So had I.

  Maybe you belong together after all, I thought. Who was I to judge her when I was just as much of an ass?

  A giggle resounded from outside the door and shook the pity party out of my pants. Perry. She was all I needed to think about tonight. Not Jenn. Not even myself. Just Perry. I needed to do right by her and no one else. Maybe then that nasty voice in my head would shut the fuck up.

  I slipped on a white
dress shirt and black jacket and stared myself down in the mirror. Maybe it was because I wasn’t especially tall, but I always felt like a monkey in a suit. But it looked OK. I knew I looked handsome, maybe even dashing in that wannabe Bond way. I also looked strangely alert for someone who nearly died the night before.

  I stopped looking at myself before I turned into one of those guys who give pep talks to their reflection (“Yeah, work that mustache, you stud, chicks fucking dig the rapist look”) picked up my tie and made my way out into the apartment where Beastie Boys was blaring.

  Jenn was leaning against the counter with a glass of wine in hand. She raised her brows invitingly, which meant she wasn’t all that mad about earlier. Perhaps she was already drunk.

  “Tie or no tie?” I asked as I walked toward her.

  Then, like I was pulled into some cosmic pulse, I paused and looked over at the stereo.

  It was a vision of teal satin. And breasts. Oh my god, the breasts.

  My eyes locked onto Perry and my breath was stolen. It wasn’t just the breasts though – or the nip and curve of her waist and hips, a rolling highway that made me break erection speed records. She looked truly beautiful, comfortable. She was fresh, alive, glowing and…just so fucking real.

  I don’t know how long I was staring at her from across the room, my eyes taking a dip in her own blue pools, but it was enough that my dick was straining hard against my fly and Jenn said something about taking a picture to make it last longer.

  I didn’t need to. That moment would always be burned in my head. That moment when I knew that I was way in over my head. I was fucked.

  MR. SELF DESTRUCT

  When we entered the apartment, the tension followed us in. There wasn’t even any Fat Rabbit to break the newly formed ice between us,; he was locked in the bathroom. It was a peculiar kind of ice too. It held us tightly wound, unable to let our guard down. It was a wall that came up as soon as we broke apart in that snowy alley. Fuck, I wanted that again, that feeling of her legs wrapped around me. I needed us to thaw.

  Perry walked across the kitchen and leaned against the island counter, her back to me. She kicked off her shoes, the berry heels dangling seductively off her foot. Her head was down, her upper back arched up, leaving the expanse of her shoulders and creamy smooth skin ripe and open for the taking. I kicked off my own shoes and took off my jacket in anticipation.

  We needed to thaw. Ice melts with heat and I was packing enough heat in my pants that it pained me. Something needed to be done, for both of us.

  I walked toward her carefully, feeling like I might scare her off and ruin the opportunity if I made any sudden movements. Keeping with that theme, I cautiously pushed some of her hair off of her shoulders, all to make room for my lips.

  She didn’t flinch from my touch. She had expected it.

  She wanted it and I wanted her.

  I wanted nothing but her, now and forever.

  I placed my lips where the wasp had stung her. It was sign of what she was willing to risk for me and I owed her so much more than just my kiss.

  I kissed along her back, down her shoulder, feeling her shake beneath me. I tried to get her to face me, but she wasn’t thawed yet. I pressed my chest against her, pressed everything against her, and kissed at the corner of her mouth. I needed her to turn to me, give herself, all of her.

  She did. She barely made it around before I was all over her, my hands searching her face, her hair, trying to take her all in at once.

  There was no turning back tonight.

  I put my hands at her small waist and lifted her onto the counter. She wrapped her legs around me again and I responded by hiking up her satiny dress until it was above her hips.

  Oh, holy fuck.

  I almost drooled on her as I stared at her open on display. My hunger was already insatiable before this.

  As was hers. Her eyes looked ravenous, uncontrollable. She reached forward and ripped open my shirt. The buttons flew off. It would have been funny if my head wasn’t so clouded with driven lust. I unzipped her dress and pulled it down until her full breasts spilled out like heavy, round dreams from heaven. I tried drowning in them, tasting, licking like I couldn’t get enough.

  She leaned back and I realized she wanted more. I pushed her gently with my hand until her back was against the counter. Then I grabbed both her thighs and took a dive. I started by swirling my tongue up the soft inner part before I had enough teasing and got to the heart of it. Just like that time on D’Arcy Island, I was rewarded with hot, perfumed wetness. I ate her until she grabbed my head and pulled it up.

  Had I done something wrong? I don’t know what I’d do if this wouldn’t go farther. Jack off for eternity, probably.

  “Do you want me to stop?” I asked. Had I been too soft? Too rough. Fuck what the hell was it!?

  “No,” she said in a voice that made my hairs stand straight. “I want you inside me.”

  My eyes widened.

  Done.

  “Yes ma’am,” I told her.

  In seconds we were both naked as fuck, a first for us at the same time. She let her eyes rest on my cock and I was more than happy to say she looked scared. I couldn’t blame her. I felt like I had been having blue balls for thirty-two years and I had a large rod of steel to show for it.

  She wrapped her legs around me and brought me into her. I brought my fingers down and rubbed at her until I knew she was slick enough to handle me then I gripped my cock and put it inside. She was tight. So tight. I could barely handle it and my brain started going over the weirdest things to keep everything under control. I wasn’t going to go this far and blow my load in two seconds. I wasn’t in high school.

  I let out a few short bursts of breath, trying to take it as slow as possible. She had other ideas. She put her nails into my ass and encouraged me to speed up. I tried to keep pace without losing everything. I let my hands and face roam all over her upper body, holding on to every moment, watching her every chance I could. Who knew when I’d get this chance again?

  And then it came to the point where I couldn’t take any of it anymore. Having sex with Perry was…well, I was surprised I lasted so long, especially when she’d smack me on the ass lightly and then grind me into her. But I wasn’t about to come first. Somewhere I remembered my manners.

  I started rubbing her again, feeling how warm she was. I went for broke. I thrust into her deeper and deeper, faster and faster until we both lost it. A mess of groans.

  I came into her like a high-pressured hose. There was a moment where I saw her eyes and she saw me and suddenly we were somewhere else, another world of shimmering air. It seemed to last for all eternity.

  And in that eternity I got a glimpse of myself.

  That wasn’t just fucking. That wasn’t just long overdue.

  This was love.

  I was head over heels in love with her. No, that didn’t describe it. I was tear my fucking heart out and throw it at her, beg her to take it into hers. I was falling from the greatest heights with no safety net below. I was giving everything of my own life for hers, giving up every inch of my soul so she could wear it proudly. I was a former king on my knees in front of the queen. A jester begging for a chance. I was powerless, helpless and at her mercy.

  And that was the one place I swore I’d never be again.

  To love was to hurt.

  I wasn’t strong enough to survive it again if everything went wrong.

  Against all my instincts, I pulled out of her and walked toward the bathroom without even a backward glance. It was all too much. Way too fucking much.

  I lost everything before it even began.

  I was reduced to a coward, hiding from future pain. How could I love someone who didn’t love me? Even I didn’t love me.

  Eventually I came out of the bathroom and saw the door to the den closed. She was in there and lord knows what she was feeling or thinking. I felt so terrible having to hurt her the way I was going to. But I had no other choice. It
was better this way, now. It would be superficial to her.

  I slipped on my pajama pants and went to the couch. I was dazed, empty. Whatever ice had thawed was freezing over again, starting somewhere in my heart.

  There, I thought. This is safer. Better.

  I put my head in my hands and wondered what I’d say next.

  Then she came out of the den. I heard her walk up to me. I didn’t need to look at her to read the worry she was giving off.

  “Are you OK?” she asked, her voice wavering.

  Fuck me. And she was being polite about it. She cared. She really did.

  But she doesn’t love you, I told myself, almost yelling in my head. She told you she doesn’t love you and you saw the truth in her eyes. To love her means to hurt yourself.

  I could take pain but not that road again.

  She put her hand on me. I jumped.

  “Dex,” she said, “Talk to me.”

  Right. Like talking would do any good. I tried talking to her before this whole mess started. I know what she said.

  When I didn’t answer her, she grabbed my arm and tried to pull it away from my head.

  “Dex, please!” she yelled.

  I looked at her. I had no idea what she saw.

  Neither did she.

  She leaned forward. “What is it? What happened?”

  “Nothing happened,” the words just fell out of me. “And I hope you remember it that way.”

  She sucked in her breath. “What do you mean by that?”

  Oh, she knew.

  I yanked myself out of her grip. “What do you think I mean?”

  She wasn’t biting. She looked defiant. Stubborn. Naïve.

  “Dex, just tell me what you’re talking about, you owe me this much.”

  I had to laugh. She didn’t get it.

  “I don’t owe you anything, Perry.”

  It probably came out a little meaner than I expected. But this wasn’t about me owing her. She had the chance to owe me and she turned her back.

  “Dex, what the hell is wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?”

  “Why are you acting like this,” I shot back, annoyed. “All in my face and bugging me every fucking second.”

 

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