Page 22 of Forbidden Desires

"You were scared?" I raise an eyebrow.

He smirks, tossing the ball through the hoop. "Hard to believe, huh?"

"A little," I admit, moving closer.

Dexter shrugs, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "Pete's special. And we were starting to be good friends. I didn't want to mess it up. He just... he saw me, and I was scared of losing that."

The way he talks about Pete softens something inside me. "I'm glad you took the chance."

"Yeah," Dexter murmurs. "Me too. I'm also really glad we took the time to come after you."

His words hang between us, heavy. I look up at him, and for a moment, I forget to breathe.

"Dexter..."

He steps closer, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body. His hand brushes mine—just a graze, but it's enough to send sparks up my arm.

"I know you're scared," he whispers now, his gaze never leaving mine. "But you don't have to figure out everything tonight. We've got time, baby."

His hand lingers against mine, and for once, I don't pull away. I let myself stay in this moment, standing in the middle of a busy arcade, with a man who looks at me like I’m the only thing that matters.

We finish the night with a few more games, and by the time we leave, my cheeks hurt from smiling. Dexter holds the door open for me as we step into the cool night air. His hand brushes the small of my back in a way that feels far too natural.

"Thanks for tonight," I say.

Dexter leans against the car, watching me with a lazy smile. "It's not over yet."

"Oh?"

He pulls on my hand, dragging me against his body. "I figured we could end the night on a sweet note."

I laugh, wrapping my arms around his neck. "I thought the guy kissed the girl when he dropped her off."

He shrugs in response. "This way I get two kisses. One now, and another at your door."

"You're ridiculous."

"Maybe." Dexter's grin turns wicked. "But I think you like it."

I roll my eyes, but the warmth spreading through my chest tells me he's right.

Before I can second-guess my moves too much I lean up and place my lips against his.

We're both breathless by the time I pull away.

"Fuck, you taste perfect, baby," Dexter mutters, staring at my lips.

His words settle over me, a smirk spreading across my face. For once, I'm going to let myself enjoy this.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Dexter

The hotel room is nice enough, with sleek, modern furniture and crisp white bedding that smells faintly of lavender. We’ve been here several days now, our temporary home away from home. It's a step up from the usual places Pete and I stay for work, but it still feels too empty, like it's missing something.

Someone.

Pete stands by the window, his broad shoulders framed by the pale glow of Tacoma's city lights. There's a quiet energy about him, a thoughtful stillness. I know him well enough to recognize that he's not brooding—he's planning, calculating the best way forward.

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