Page 20 of Under The Twilight Rainfall
Dex narrows his eyes and stops right where he’s standing halfway out of the water.
“Touch my camera, Olaño, and I’ll bury you on this beach.” He glares, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, something akin to amusement taking its place. “Are you going to make me drag you?”
“Try it.”
And that, apparently, is the exact wrong thing to say. Or right. Not sure what outcome I was expecting, but I don’t think it was for Dex to march across the beach, grab and shove a snorkel and pair of flippers at me, then practically press himself against me to get in my face.
“You’ve got thirty seconds before I toss you in, Val,” he whispers in a rough voice.
To give in or call his bluff? Half of me wants to do as he says and see a smile light up his face, but the other half of me wouldn’t mind an excuse to have his hands on me again.
Shit, this is why I wanted to keep my distance. So my dick and heart could calm down.
In the end, I decide giving in is what’s best for my sanity, so when I’m all snorkeled up and Dex steps back only to throw an arm around my middle and hoist me over his shoulder?
I don’t squeak like a little girl, but it certainly isn’t a dignified sound.
“What are you…?”
“It wasn’t an ultimatum. It was a warning.”
Shit. I’m not small, and I’d wager that Dex and I have similar builds—even if his muscles are a little more pronounced and he has some extra meat on his bones—so knowing that he can just throw me over his shoulder without breaking a sweat?
Holy shit does my dick take interest.
I could get down. We could wrestle it out here in the sand, but the thought vanishes when he claps a hand on my ass.
“Don’t even think about it.”
And then my back hits the water, and when I break the surface a few seconds later, Dex is already swimming away and laughing over his shoulder.
Fuck it. I’m already in the damn water. You win, Dex Ashford, you win.
I follow him back out to where the guide we picked up has been watching us with curiosity, and I barely have time to pull my mouthpiece in before Dex is yanking me under the water with him.
I was right in that I’m immediately lost in the happiness radiating from him. At the sight of the first turtle, he reaches for me and pulls me along, keeping his distance while circling the sea creature. I’ve seen them a few times, more often when I was younger and diving was more exciting, but the absolute awe in Dex’s eyes is enough to give life to that childlike spark inside.
We find a couple of others, and even though I can see his fingers twitching to touch them, Dex keeps a safe distance from the turtles. The whole time, he keeps his fingers tight around mine. It should make for an awkward swim, but we move in sync, and by the time we break the surface, being connected is almost like second nature. I hate the twinge I feel in my chest when Dex frees his hand to shove the snorkel aside and takes a deep, gasping breath.
“Holy shit,” he says, grin big and bright enough that my own matches.
His happiness is more contagious than the damn flu.
“Holy shit,” I repeat, but mine has nothing to do with the sea adventure and everything to do with Dex and how full my heart and soul feel to have him here. To see his smiles, to be his comfort, to take hold of his hand and not have him immediately pull away.
It’s a rare moment, one I’m not sure I’ll get again. When Broody Dex falls back into place, I wonder if he’ll let me hold him again? He drops his guard at night, and as much as my brain screams I’m taking advantage of that vulnerability, my heart just wants to be as close to him as it can until he’s gone.
It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.
Dex’s smile dips as our eyes meet, and I know I’ve failed to hide any of the feelings overwhelming me.
He doesn’t call me out on it.
He grabs my hand again and motions towards the shore.
“C’mon.”
I follow him out, and as we put away our swim gear and grab our towels, the mood shifts. The heaviness evaporates as Dex huffs out a laugh while flicking through his phone.
