I hadn’t told Becca about my moment in Meadow Park with Dex, and I wouldn’t, because it didn’t mean anything. That didn’t stop me replaying it in my head, over and over on a loop. That weird feeling in my stomach stirred to life every time I thought about how close we’d gotten before that asshole blew his ashtray breath into my mouth. It had caused someconfusingbodily reactions, which I refused to examine past the basic fact that maybe my sex drive was finally waking up. That’s all it was. It had nothing to do withhim. Even if his face came to mind, against my will, when I was dealing with said bodily reactions.
It was the first time I’d thought about someone specific while jerking off. Normally, it was just sensations, a means to an end that I took care of as quickly as possible so I could get on with my day. It was perfunctory. So the first time after that day when I’d done it, the usual faceless fantasy had morphed into his arm around my waist as he shoved me into the ground, his hot, smoke-scented breath on the side of my face. I’d been so shocked I’d abandoned my mission in favor of a cold shower.
The second time it happened, though, I gave in to it.
Twenty years was apparently how long it had taken for my dick to figure out what it liked, and for some infuriating reason, it liked Dex fucking Weller. That didn’t mean I did. I’d use him to get off, sure, but I still wanted nothing to do with him. Nothing at all. The fact that just picturing him gave me the best orgasms I’d ever experienced didn’t mean I wanted to know what it was like to actually have those rough hands touching me. Those pale, intense eyes focused on me. Those lips that breathed smoky air from his mouth to my mouth…
When I eventually found the bathroom, it was blissfully empty, until I remembered the reason I was looking for it in the first place was to find Becca. Not so much bliss, then.
The combination of Dex surfacing in my thoughts and the scene I’d accidentally stumbled on in the bedroom made my dick stir in my pants. It wasn’t like I wanted him to dothattome. The two things hadnothingto do with each other. Still, it took longer than it should have to dismiss the idea of jerking off.
I used the toilet and then resumed my search for my sexy lighthouse best friend. Maybe she’d gone to get us more drinks.
She wasn’t in the kitchen either, though. I refilled my cup. All by myself.Go, Jonah!Armed with my liquid fun, I kept looking. Maybe she was back in the living room, and I’d somehow missed her.
I turned the corner and ran into something hard and solid, almost bouncing right back off. “Shit,” I cursed as I noticed the wet patch on the shirt of the guy I’d run into. “I’m so—” My apology died on my tongue when my eyes drifted up, first to that ridiculous skull-and-wings neck tattoo, then higher until I was caught in the icy eyes of Dex Weller. He wasn’t wearing a costume, of course he wasn’t, just a gray shirt under his dusty black leather jacket, black jeans, and of course those scratched-up old black combat boots.
My mouth went dry. I couldn’t find my words, and suddenly I was wondering if my hair looked okay. I panicked that it didn’t when Dex’s eyes left mine to stare at the top of my head for a few seconds before he huffed in amusement.
“Fancy seeing you here, City Boy.” He grinned.
“Don’t call me that,” I scowled.
“Okay,Rabbit.”
I stared at him in confusion. I’d expected something else… but Rabbit? His eyes flicked to the top of my head again. My fingers lifted to smooth out my hair and instead found the headband of Becca’s bunny ears. The fucking bunny ears. I yanked them off.
“They’re Becca’s!”
“Sure they are.”
“They are!” I’m not sure why, but it felt very important that he believed me.
“I know. Goes with the rest of her outfit,” he chuckled.
“Wait, you’ve seen my Becca? Where?”
Dex turned his head to look into the hallway, and I looked at the wet patch on his shirt again. Deciding to at least try to brush it off, my fingers swiped at the fabric—well, more like rubbed. It wasn’t coming off. I rubbed more vigorously, glaring at the spot. It wasn’t easy without a free hand.
“Here, hold this.” I lifted the headband and popped it onto his head instead. With my newly freed hand and my trusty denim sleeve, I rubbed his shirt in earnest.
Dex’s hand reached out and swiped my drink from me in response.
“Hey, what the fuck? Give me that back!” I demanded, but instead of listening, he brought the cup up to his nose to sniff at the contents before grimacing.
“Fuck, how many of these have you had?”
“Some.”
“Are you even twenty-one?”
“None of your beeswax, gimme drink!” I reached for it, but he kept it out of range by twisting his body away. I hadn’t realized I was leaning on him until I stumbled, but before I could fall on my face, his arm was around my waistyet again, pulling me into him.
“Easy there, Rabbit. I’ll give it back in a sec. Weren’t you looking for Bee?”
Oh yeah. Bee!
“Where’s Bee?”
