“Well, goodnight then,” Dex says, clearing his throat. He turns away to leave.
“But—” I stop.
He turns back.“What is it?”
“It’s nothing.” I look away. My cheeks flush, and I’m sure they betray the skitter of my heartbeat, rising fast in my chest.
“I thought we agreed,” Dex tells me, his eyes flashing darker. “You don’t hide what’s going on behind those hazel eyes, sweetheart. If this week is going to be real, we have to be honest with each other.”
I gulp. He’s right. Our connection from that night was so strong in part because I felt free enough to tell him how I really felt. Somehow, on the drive out here, in the weeks that passed away from him, that bravery has curled right back up into a tight ball in my chest. Anxious. Afraid. All the things I don’t want to be anymore.
Especially not with him.
“You haven’t touched me,” I manage to say. My words come out nearly a whisper, but I force myself to continue. “All evening, you’ve barely touched me. I thought…”
I stop, the embarrassment too much.
Dex gives me a wolfish smile. “You thought I would rip your clothes off the minute you stepped through the door?”
“No!” I protest, then pause. Honesty, remember? I bite my lip. “Maybe. Yes. I don’t know.”
I look around for some escape, already feeling humiliated, but Dex closes the distance between us, until he’s standing just inches away.
I catch my breath, looking up at him, at that gorgeous face—all strong angles and dark intensity. I can feel the heat radiating from his chiseled muscles, his overwhelming physical presence hitting me like a tidal wave.
This. This is what I’ve been waiting for, this is the reason I drove all the way out here. The feelings coursing through me are like no other; a reckless jumble of nerves and desire and anticipation, as if I’ve awoken from a hundred-year sleep. My body sways towards him as if from its own volition, waiting for his glorious kiss.
Dex slowly reaches up and places one fingertip against my lips.
The touch jolts through me, a shiver of sensual memory. In a flash, I remember the last time he touched me—his fingers digging into my thighs, his tongue sending me to heaven and back.
“If you want me, I’m right here,” Dex whispers in a rasp. He presses his finger gently against my lips, and I part them, hypnotized, frozen in his forcefield as he slowly slides his fingertip into my mouth.
Oh.
I feel the rough, foreign rasp of skin, hot against my tongue. A new bolt of awareness spirals through me, prickling the skin along my back and arms. My nipples tighten, aching under my dress, and I feel the heat gather in a molten pool, low between my thighs.
All from a single touch.
He steps back.
His absence washes over me in a rush of cool air. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, disappointment crashing over me.
“Is this a game?” I ask, my head spinning. “I don’t understand.”
“You came here for a reason, didn’t you?” Dex gives me a curious grin. “To forget about him.”
I nod. I didn’t tell Dex much about Hunter, only that I was in love with a man who didn’t feel the same way.
“Are you thinking about him now?” Dex asks. “Have you thought about him even once since you arrived?”
I blink. “No,” I say softly. And I haven’t. Dex has consumed my every sense, every thought. Waiting for his touch, wondering when I’ll taste his kisses again. There hasn’t been room in my mind to think of Hunter, or wonder what he’s doing.
It’s all been Dex. Everything.
“So you won’t kiss me?” The question slips from my lips before I can hold it back, my voice edged with disappointment.
Dex chuckles. “Think of it as your first lesson. The only way you get anything in this world is if you reach out and take it. Every break, every chance I got, it was because I reached out and grabbed with both hands.”
My eyes drift down his strong arms to those hands. Strong and tanned, large and rough. I wouldn’t believe they could be capable of such delicate sensuality if I hadn’t felt their teasing whispers for myself.
I want them on me again. Grasping tight, stroking softly. I want to be the instrument they play.
“So, what? You want me to make the first move?” I swallow, lifting my eyes to him. “I thought I did that already. I’m here, aren’t I?”
Dex smiles. “Yes, you are, sweet Alicia, and don’t think I’m not mighty glad about that. But you need to learn to trust what you feel. To take what you want. When it comes to matters of the heart, I’d always rather regret the things I do than the things I didn’t.”
Regret…I stare at him, still frozen. Even though he’s standing right in front of me, all but ordering me to kiss him, I find I can’t move an inch.
Doesn’t he realize it goes against everything I’ve done my entire life? Never make the first move, never show a man I want him. Hiding my feelings, day after day. It’s second nature to me now, keeping it all locked inside. I couldn’t throw caution to the wind and undo a lifetime of waiting if I tried.
“Think about it this way,” he adds, softening. “Your man, the one who’s caused you so much grief. What would have happened if you’d made a play for him, way back when this all began? What would have happened if you’d just gone after what you wanted, to hell with the consequences?”
“But—” I stop.
He turns back.“What is it?”
“It’s nothing.” I look away. My cheeks flush, and I’m sure they betray the skitter of my heartbeat, rising fast in my chest.
“I thought we agreed,” Dex tells me, his eyes flashing darker. “You don’t hide what’s going on behind those hazel eyes, sweetheart. If this week is going to be real, we have to be honest with each other.”
I gulp. He’s right. Our connection from that night was so strong in part because I felt free enough to tell him how I really felt. Somehow, on the drive out here, in the weeks that passed away from him, that bravery has curled right back up into a tight ball in my chest. Anxious. Afraid. All the things I don’t want to be anymore.
Especially not with him.
“You haven’t touched me,” I manage to say. My words come out nearly a whisper, but I force myself to continue. “All evening, you’ve barely touched me. I thought…”
I stop, the embarrassment too much.
Dex gives me a wolfish smile. “You thought I would rip your clothes off the minute you stepped through the door?”
“No!” I protest, then pause. Honesty, remember? I bite my lip. “Maybe. Yes. I don’t know.”
I look around for some escape, already feeling humiliated, but Dex closes the distance between us, until he’s standing just inches away.
I catch my breath, looking up at him, at that gorgeous face—all strong angles and dark intensity. I can feel the heat radiating from his chiseled muscles, his overwhelming physical presence hitting me like a tidal wave.
This. This is what I’ve been waiting for, this is the reason I drove all the way out here. The feelings coursing through me are like no other; a reckless jumble of nerves and desire and anticipation, as if I’ve awoken from a hundred-year sleep. My body sways towards him as if from its own volition, waiting for his glorious kiss.
Dex slowly reaches up and places one fingertip against my lips.
The touch jolts through me, a shiver of sensual memory. In a flash, I remember the last time he touched me—his fingers digging into my thighs, his tongue sending me to heaven and back.
“If you want me, I’m right here,” Dex whispers in a rasp. He presses his finger gently against my lips, and I part them, hypnotized, frozen in his forcefield as he slowly slides his fingertip into my mouth.
Oh.
I feel the rough, foreign rasp of skin, hot against my tongue. A new bolt of awareness spirals through me, prickling the skin along my back and arms. My nipples tighten, aching under my dress, and I feel the heat gather in a molten pool, low between my thighs.
All from a single touch.
He steps back.
His absence washes over me in a rush of cool air. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, disappointment crashing over me.
“Is this a game?” I ask, my head spinning. “I don’t understand.”
“You came here for a reason, didn’t you?” Dex gives me a curious grin. “To forget about him.”
I nod. I didn’t tell Dex much about Hunter, only that I was in love with a man who didn’t feel the same way.
“Are you thinking about him now?” Dex asks. “Have you thought about him even once since you arrived?”
I blink. “No,” I say softly. And I haven’t. Dex has consumed my every sense, every thought. Waiting for his touch, wondering when I’ll taste his kisses again. There hasn’t been room in my mind to think of Hunter, or wonder what he’s doing.
It’s all been Dex. Everything.
“So you won’t kiss me?” The question slips from my lips before I can hold it back, my voice edged with disappointment.
Dex chuckles. “Think of it as your first lesson. The only way you get anything in this world is if you reach out and take it. Every break, every chance I got, it was because I reached out and grabbed with both hands.”
My eyes drift down his strong arms to those hands. Strong and tanned, large and rough. I wouldn’t believe they could be capable of such delicate sensuality if I hadn’t felt their teasing whispers for myself.
I want them on me again. Grasping tight, stroking softly. I want to be the instrument they play.
“So, what? You want me to make the first move?” I swallow, lifting my eyes to him. “I thought I did that already. I’m here, aren’t I?”
Dex smiles. “Yes, you are, sweet Alicia, and don’t think I’m not mighty glad about that. But you need to learn to trust what you feel. To take what you want. When it comes to matters of the heart, I’d always rather regret the things I do than the things I didn’t.”
Regret…I stare at him, still frozen. Even though he’s standing right in front of me, all but ordering me to kiss him, I find I can’t move an inch.
Doesn’t he realize it goes against everything I’ve done my entire life? Never make the first move, never show a man I want him. Hiding my feelings, day after day. It’s second nature to me now, keeping it all locked inside. I couldn’t throw caution to the wind and undo a lifetime of waiting if I tried.
“Think about it this way,” he adds, softening. “Your man, the one who’s caused you so much grief. What would have happened if you’d made a play for him, way back when this all began? What would have happened if you’d just gone after what you wanted, to hell with the consequences?”
