Page 27 of Under The Twilight Rainfall
“That’s what today is about, isn’t it?” I ask, leaning back and raising my brow.
Dex narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “If you wanna fuck the guy, don’t let me stop you.”
“Hm.” I tap my thumb on my chin. “Not what I had in mind.”
He scoffs. “That’s what it looked like.”
“Dex.” I laugh at his petulance. “Did I touch him?” I lean in close, both for privacy and to be heard over the music. “Did I look at him anything like how I looked at you last night?”
Pink spreads over his cheeks, and I’m close enough I could press my lips to the color, but I let him keep a few inches between us. If anything is going to happen, I need him to initiate. I need to know that he wants it. Wants me.
Dex huffs a laugh and leans his head back on the couch. “You’re fucking with me.”
“About last night or about Jonah?”
His eyes seek out mine, and there’s a heavy heat in his gaze. “I know what you thought of last night.” He subtly gestures to my cock, which had no qualms with pressing against him throughout the night and early morning.
Not that either of us acknowledged it.
I shoot him a wink and lean away, not about to break our silent arrangement in a room full of people.
Something opens between us after that. A mutual understanding of sorts.
The night passes in a bit of a heart-pounding daze. Every so often I’ll lean over, whisper something in Jonah’s ear or touch his thigh, and Dex will send me a look that’s less like jealousy and more like possessiveness, and I do it again and again to keep his attention.
Things are winding down—Jonah and his friends have gone to grab us all a round of drinks before calling it a night—and I hear Dex’s deep rumbly voice from the other side of the couch.
“You done hanging over Mr. Boy Toy like a little lapdog?”
“Someone sounds jealous.”
“I told you, you can fuck who you want.”
I take up the cushion right next to Dex, propping my arm on the back of the couch and staring him down. “Can I?”
His eyes make a quick pass over my body, enough to have it heating under the scrutiny. “Do I look like I’m stopping you?”
It looks like he’s encouraging me, egging on this attraction that’s getting harder and harder to pretend isn’t consuming me.
It’s the first time we’ve been alone since getting here—since we’ve both become blatantly aware of the attraction zinging to life between us.
I put my hand on his thigh, feeling the tight muscles tense beneath my fingers. Dex’s eyes are dark, hot like coals as he slides his gaze from my face to my hand.
“Stopping me now?”
He stares—long and hard—before threading his fingers behind his head and leaning back, legs spreading wide.
My heartbeat quickens. I slide my hand up, squeeze, and when he doesn’t speak up, I slip under his shirt and drag my touch along his stomach and hint of abs. They flex under my fingers, and the next thing I know I’ve swung my leg over him, both hands exploring the length of his body like it’s one of the world’s wonders.
And by god, it is.
Dex’s skin is hot under my fingertips, with thick, dark hair on his chest and stomach that I want to tug and twist and drag my tongue through.
He’s looking up at me with hooded eyes, expression unreadable, but when I drop down to mouth at one of his nipples through his shirt, rolling the other between my fingers, he lets out a whoosh of air and a moan that goes straight to my groin.
I pull back, wet my lips, prepared to jump off him and try to salvage the night before what we’re doing fully registers, but Dex cups the back of my head and lowers me back down.
“I won’t stop you.” The words are whispered, and I let my hands explore unbidden, my mouth following their lead and savoring the taste of his skin when I lick a stripe over his collarbone.
