“Hi.”
Neither of us move, but I can’t stop looking at him, drinking him in. There’s a sharp, coiled tension in his muscular frame, an edgy energy that’s strange and so familiar to me at the same time—as if I’ve known him for years, and not just for the passing of a few hours, months ago.
“Come on in.” Dex jerks his head, standing aside. “Did you bring a bag?”
“It’s in the car.” I turn, about to go back for it, but he places a hand on my arm.
“I can grab it,” he cuts me off. “You must be tired from the drive.”
He heads out to my car in easy strides, leaving me reeling from the casual touch. I cradle where his hand caressed my elbow, my whole body suddenly prickling with awareness. I knew he affected me like this, but somehow, I’d forced myself to forget just how magnetic his presence really could be.
I try to pull myself together. You haven’t even gone inside, I scold myself sternly. Try not to melt into a puddle on his front step.
“Let me show you around,” he says, returning with my bag slung over his shoulder. I take a deep breath and follow him inside.
“Did you find your way OK?” Dex asks, leading me through the foyer and into a huge, airy living space.
“Yes, thanks,” I reply., “It turns out, some friends of mine live nearby. Small world,” I add awkwardly.
“Small world,” Dex echoes, a lilt of amusement on his lips. But there’s no time to feel self-conscious again, because I’m distracted, looking around in awe at the gorgeous house. Several square, open rooms lead off from one another, filled with sleek vintage furniture and bare wooden floors. The ceilings are double height, and the entire beach-facing side of the building is a long wall of glass, with smooth, uninterrupted views of the dark bay beyond.
I’ve never seen anything like it.
“This place is incredible,” I tell him, amazed.
“Thanks.” Dex smiles again, more relaxed. “I spent six months on the plans, we only finished at the beginning of the year.”
I blink, surprised. “You mean, you designed it?”
He nods. “My brother, Ash, runs a real estate company. He found the land and hooked me up with the architects.”
I’m even more impressed. Everything about this place is a study in contrasts: bold life, and precise control. The bright graffiti art on the blank, minimal walls; the line of expensive-looking guitars mounted as precious as art beside the gleaming grand piano in the corner.
I drift over to the windows and find one of them pushed wide open, leading out to a floodlit deck area overlooking a large pool on the edge of the beach, the water glowing with rippling aqua light against the dark shadows of the bay.
I clutch the deck railing and breathe in the cool night air, trying to corral my fluttering, nervous emotions. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do or say now; this situation is so completely over my head.
As if he can hear my internal debate, Dex steps outside. I listen to his footsteps approaching, my body tensing with expectation as he leans on the railing next to me, his bare arm brushing mine.
“So…” he murmurs, his voice like whiskey, burning through my bloodstream. “Here you are, at last. What finally changed your mind?”
“Maybe I just felt like a break.” I try to sound casual, like I’m used to running off to hang out with complete strangers all the time. “A chance to get away from it all.”
“Don’t bullshit me.”
I turn my head in shock at his directness.
“This is me,” Dex continues, his expression darkening. “I know you, remember? I know how sweet your lips are, and how your body feels, pressed against me.”
I inhale sharply. His face is shadowed, staring down at me, all dark angles and glittering intent.
“I know the moaning sound you make when you’re close to the edge,” Dex continues, leaning closer, his smile turning deadly. His lips graze my ear, sending shocks of awareness spiraling through my body.
“I know how you taste.”
I stumble back from him, my cheeks flushing hot. “I forgot how you do that,” I manage to say.
“Tell the truth?” Dex looks amused.
“Talk dirty,” I correct him.
He laughs. “Oh baby, that wasn’t dirty. Not even close.” Dex opens his mouth as if to say something, then pauses and shakes his head. “You must be hungry.” He changes the subject so fast, my head spins. “C’mon, let’s go find something to eat.”
I leap at the chance to put some distance between us, and pull myself together again, but as I dart past him, back into the house, his voice echoes after me.
“After all, you’re going to need your energy.”
6.
Dex assembles us a simple dinner of bread, meats, and cheeses, laid out on a huge farmhouse table in the formal dining room.
“You could fit fifty people in here,” I remark, glad for the space as I take a seat on the opposite side of the table to him. Yet somehow, even with five feet of solid oak between us, I feel on edge, my body attuning to his presence, aware of every movement and gesture he makes.
“Maybe even a hundred,” Dex agrees with a wry grin. “As long as they don’t mind getting up close and personal.” He gives me a look that says he’s noticed just how far I’ve chosen to sit from him. Then he shrugs, “But I’ve never tried. This place is just for me. The only people who’ve ever visited are my family. And you,” he adds after a moment.
Neither of us move, but I can’t stop looking at him, drinking him in. There’s a sharp, coiled tension in his muscular frame, an edgy energy that’s strange and so familiar to me at the same time—as if I’ve known him for years, and not just for the passing of a few hours, months ago.
“Come on in.” Dex jerks his head, standing aside. “Did you bring a bag?”
“It’s in the car.” I turn, about to go back for it, but he places a hand on my arm.
“I can grab it,” he cuts me off. “You must be tired from the drive.”
He heads out to my car in easy strides, leaving me reeling from the casual touch. I cradle where his hand caressed my elbow, my whole body suddenly prickling with awareness. I knew he affected me like this, but somehow, I’d forced myself to forget just how magnetic his presence really could be.
I try to pull myself together. You haven’t even gone inside, I scold myself sternly. Try not to melt into a puddle on his front step.
“Let me show you around,” he says, returning with my bag slung over his shoulder. I take a deep breath and follow him inside.
“Did you find your way OK?” Dex asks, leading me through the foyer and into a huge, airy living space.
“Yes, thanks,” I reply., “It turns out, some friends of mine live nearby. Small world,” I add awkwardly.
“Small world,” Dex echoes, a lilt of amusement on his lips. But there’s no time to feel self-conscious again, because I’m distracted, looking around in awe at the gorgeous house. Several square, open rooms lead off from one another, filled with sleek vintage furniture and bare wooden floors. The ceilings are double height, and the entire beach-facing side of the building is a long wall of glass, with smooth, uninterrupted views of the dark bay beyond.
I’ve never seen anything like it.
“This place is incredible,” I tell him, amazed.
“Thanks.” Dex smiles again, more relaxed. “I spent six months on the plans, we only finished at the beginning of the year.”
I blink, surprised. “You mean, you designed it?”
He nods. “My brother, Ash, runs a real estate company. He found the land and hooked me up with the architects.”
I’m even more impressed. Everything about this place is a study in contrasts: bold life, and precise control. The bright graffiti art on the blank, minimal walls; the line of expensive-looking guitars mounted as precious as art beside the gleaming grand piano in the corner.
I drift over to the windows and find one of them pushed wide open, leading out to a floodlit deck area overlooking a large pool on the edge of the beach, the water glowing with rippling aqua light against the dark shadows of the bay.
I clutch the deck railing and breathe in the cool night air, trying to corral my fluttering, nervous emotions. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do or say now; this situation is so completely over my head.
As if he can hear my internal debate, Dex steps outside. I listen to his footsteps approaching, my body tensing with expectation as he leans on the railing next to me, his bare arm brushing mine.
“So…” he murmurs, his voice like whiskey, burning through my bloodstream. “Here you are, at last. What finally changed your mind?”
“Maybe I just felt like a break.” I try to sound casual, like I’m used to running off to hang out with complete strangers all the time. “A chance to get away from it all.”
“Don’t bullshit me.”
I turn my head in shock at his directness.
“This is me,” Dex continues, his expression darkening. “I know you, remember? I know how sweet your lips are, and how your body feels, pressed against me.”
I inhale sharply. His face is shadowed, staring down at me, all dark angles and glittering intent.
“I know the moaning sound you make when you’re close to the edge,” Dex continues, leaning closer, his smile turning deadly. His lips graze my ear, sending shocks of awareness spiraling through my body.
“I know how you taste.”
I stumble back from him, my cheeks flushing hot. “I forgot how you do that,” I manage to say.
“Tell the truth?” Dex looks amused.
“Talk dirty,” I correct him.
He laughs. “Oh baby, that wasn’t dirty. Not even close.” Dex opens his mouth as if to say something, then pauses and shakes his head. “You must be hungry.” He changes the subject so fast, my head spins. “C’mon, let’s go find something to eat.”
I leap at the chance to put some distance between us, and pull myself together again, but as I dart past him, back into the house, his voice echoes after me.
“After all, you’re going to need your energy.”
6.
Dex assembles us a simple dinner of bread, meats, and cheeses, laid out on a huge farmhouse table in the formal dining room.
“You could fit fifty people in here,” I remark, glad for the space as I take a seat on the opposite side of the table to him. Yet somehow, even with five feet of solid oak between us, I feel on edge, my body attuning to his presence, aware of every movement and gesture he makes.
“Maybe even a hundred,” Dex agrees with a wry grin. “As long as they don’t mind getting up close and personal.” He gives me a look that says he’s noticed just how far I’ve chosen to sit from him. Then he shrugs, “But I’ve never tried. This place is just for me. The only people who’ve ever visited are my family. And you,” he adds after a moment.
