Page 52 of Little Monster
But the conversation hovers, lurks over us the rest of the night, and I’m not sure either of us knows what to do about it.
I’VE NOT SEEN DEX SINCE that morning at my condo, so when Ashton calls me a week later to come in for a meeting with the band and their label, I get nervous butterflies in my stomach. Dex will be there, and the last time we were together...
I feel his mouth trailing kisses up my inner thigh, hear the sound of his voice as he whispered,I have to have you.
And remembering makes me wet. It makes me want to lick the chain he wears around his neck.
That night is all I can think about as I drive to the studio the next morning. I texted Dex to ask what this is about, but he said it’s a surprise. And weirdly, I love surprises. Especially if Dex Reid is involved.
When I pull into the parking lot, my gaze goes immediately to the glossy black Range Rover parked around the back of the building. Now my heart is beating slightly harder, and I have to steady my breathing as I pull into a spot and put the car in park.
January has drifted away, and the February sun is warm on my face as I step out of the car. It’s nice enough out that I have a pair of blue jean shorts on, and the heat is tantalizing against my skin. I miss Colorado in many ways, but I’m not sure I’ll ever get over the perfection that is winter in LA.
My white Vans slap against the pavement as I head toward the building. The traffic is loud behind me, like it always is here, so I don’t hear the door open, and when I look up, fully expecting to reach for the door handle, what I see instead is a shock of ice-blue eyes under a sweep of blond hair.
Dex.
My stomach does a series of somersaults.
He stands in the doorway, door propped open with his foot, his arm stretching across the entrance so that I can’t simply ease by. Cool air drifts out from the interior of the building, sending my straight hair waving in the breeze.
“Hello, Little Monster,” Dex says, his voice low and gravelly enough to make me squirm with want.
Instantly, my insides turn to molten fire.
“Dexter,” I say in response, and his face lights up with a smile. He’s wearing his signature baggy black tee today, paired with forest-green skinny jeans and black-and-white Converse. The cross he wears in one earlobe catches the sun and sends a prism of light reflecting across his stubbled jaw.
I want to bite that jaw, to drag my teeth across his skin.
Fuck.
He still doesn’t move, so I stoop to slip under his arm, and his proximity makes my skin prickle with goose bumps.
I’ve had him in my bed, have felt his tongue inside of me, yet it’s done nothing to satiate my need for him. If anything, it’s only made me more ravenous.
The door closes with a whisper, and then he’s behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist. When he nuzzles his face into my neck, I have to bite my lip to keep from sighing aloud.
I’ve missed this. So,somuch. How is it that one week away from him feels like a year?
“What are these?” he whispers into my ear. His fingertips play with the frayed edge of my shorts, sending electricity sparking across my skin. “Are you trying to punish me for something?”
“You deserve to be punished,” I whisper back, feeling sexy and fearless, heart racing with recklessness.
“For what?” His fingers slip under the frayed edge and climb higher, toward the crease at the top of my thigh. My pulse gallops in response, heat building in my stomach.
“For making me touch myself every night since you’ve been gone.”
As soon as the words leave my lips, he growls, and his fingers dig into my skin. Then he’s spinning me around, bending over me, his lips coming down on mine. Just like the first time, when he kissed me beneath the neon lights in Velvet, his mouth takes my breath away.
I’ve kissed boys, but Dex isn’t a boy, and he’s the only one whose kisses feel like this. This is his fingers slipping under my waistband, his lip ring under my tongue, aneedto let him crawl inside of me.
I ball his T-shirt in my fists and pull him against my body. His length hardens against my thigh through his jeans, and I smile against his mouth, victorious.
For the first time, I realize how perfect his little nickname for me is.
He makes me vicious. I really am his little monster.
A breath of surprise sounds from behind me. Pulling away from Dex, I turn to find Morgan standing in the hallway, her eyes wide and her red lips parted in shock. Dex is standingso close to me that I can feel his subtle effort to readjust himself in his tight jeans, his heavy breath rustling the hair at my nape.
