He flicked both dark eyebrows up. "Nothin' to be worried about," he assured me.
Nothing at all.
Not if he didn't have the money.
Not if he'd skipped town.
If, if, if, if, and more friggin' if.
Had I mentioned before how much I hated relying on another people?
Especially when that person was the least reliable individual I'd possibly ever met.
"Charlie..."
He chuckled, flicking those bright blue eyes in my direction. "Don't worry about it."
I mashed my lips together and kept my worries to myself. There wasn't a point in stressing until we knew for sure if he really was in town. Sure Luther wouldn't have a reason to lie, and I'd hope his friend wouldn't either, but I wasn't going to put all my eggs into one basket. I'd worry when I knew for sure Curt Taylor was around.
I spotted a few more places I'd seen a hundred times before. The family owned hardware store, the grocery store, the salons that had been around since mullets had been in style.
And it was all way too deja-vu like.
Reminders of some of the best times of my life and the worst.
The hotel we pulled into was a member of a big chain, something I'd found for cheap on my phone when we'd entered Florida. I'd paid for it before telling Dex anything because he'd try to talk me into grabbing his credit card. I sleepwalked through check-in, filling out paperwork with the worst handwriting ever.
"Here you go," the hotel employee said as she handed me two key cards, her eyes straying from the tattoo on Dex's neck, and then back over to the nasty bruise on my cheek.
Oh hell. Whatever.
I wrapped my arm around Dex's and leaned into him, the side of my face pressed to his bicep like it was the most natural thing in the world. Those blue eyes glanced down at me, lined and circled in purplish blue, and one side of his mouth tipped up. His free hand went up to smooth over the top of my head. "C'mon, lazy bones."
There's no doubt in my mind I resembled an adoring puppy on the walk to our room.
"Shower first, honey, I gotta call Son and Lu to check up with 'em," Dex said as we dropped our bags just inside the door.
I nodded at him before fishing through the duffel bag, eyeing the king sized bed that took up the majority of the room. I poked him in the arm as I passed by, rushing through my shower, and getting dressed in an old threadbare sweatshirt and plain bikini panties before I somehow managed to fall asleep standing.
Just as I was about to open the door, I heard Dex on the other side.
"—better than that. Quit bein' a dumb fuck about it," he bit off.
Well. I don't think he'd be talking to Luther like that, and if it was Sonny he was talking to...then, I'd like to hear that conversation.
"She told me everything." He paused. "Yeah, that too. Look, Son—"
Five guesses as to what my traitor-ass brother could be finally spilling.
"I want this shit over with...Yeah...I wanna go back home, and she's comin' with me. How fuckin' hard is that for you to understand? She's mine, my brother, and I don't give a single fuck if you're mad about it or not. It is what it is and you gotta remember how well you know me....You think I'd be here if I didn't?"
Crap. At that moment, I would've given my first born to know what Sonny was saying on the other line instead of settling for guesses. Sometimes I hated how curious I was. I should have just gone into the bedroom like a normal person. Oh, who am I kidding? Anybody would be standing on the other side of the door eavesdropping.
Dex made a noise that sounded like a snarl. "This isn't gonna be a goddamn waste of her time or mine. I’m a grown ass man, Son. You’re not gonna tell me what I can and can’t do. I know exactly what I’m doin’. You wanna try to beat the shit out of me when we get back? 'Kay. I don't give a shit. You're not changin' my mind. Piss your little pants—"
Sonny must have cut him off because the next thing he did was laugh bitterly. "Not a single fuck. Not half of one. Not a quarter of one. Nothin'. You can kiss my fuckin' ass and so can Trip. I'll call you when I find your pa, ya stubborn fuck."
Then there was nothing.
I waited a few minutes on the other side of the door, waiting to see if Dex said anything else but that was a negative. There was only some rustling and creaking as he moved around the room.
Well. Okay. Wiping off my what-the-hell expression, I opened the door casually. Dex was sitting on the edge of the bed when I came out, stripped down to his boxers and yawning with his mouth wide open. Totally comfortable. Completely relaxed like he hadn't just gotten into an argument with my brother.
Once again, Charles Dexter Locke, with his solid, bulging six pack, full ink sleeves, pierced nipples, and the darn cutest tattooed red octopus, was sitting there nearly naked.
My mouth fluttered wordlessly.
Would this ever get old? I sure as heck hoped not.
"You're so hot." The statement was out of my mouth before I could withhold it.
Now, the smile that crept over his tired, still yawning features, was absolutely not withheld. He leaned back on his hands, watching me with those tired eyes. "Come here," he murmured.
Like I was going to hesitate when I had the chance to stand so close to him and all that glorious warm skin. I stopped between his widespread legs.
Dex sat up, gripping the back of my thighs loosely before starting a trail up over the curve of my ass, beneath the thin and stretched out material of my sweater. It was second nature to still wear long-sleeved stuff, regardless of whether he knew about my arm or not. Luckily, he didn't point it out as his hot hands circled most of my waist, his thumbs making these tiny circles just above my belly button ring. My shirt bunched over his arms.
"Seen a lot of things in my life—"
Don't vomit, Iris.
By a lot of things, he didn't necessarily mean people.
Okay, who am I kidding, he probably did.
I wasn't going to puke. I wasn't.
"But you," his nostrils flared, "my sweet, sweet baby, have gotta be my favorite by far. I think you win first through one-hundredth place." His head dipped forward to bite at the loose cotton draped over his forearms. He slowly edged the material up with his teeth and tongue until he finagled his head beneath my sweatshirt, a solid lump above my tummy.
The tip of his tongue tapped the stud of my belly button ring briefly. His breath warmed the skin above it before he pressed his lips to the same spot, damp and gentle. Dex touched his tongue to the same place, more of a wet kiss than a lick.
"Smell so good," he murmured as his hands kneaded my hips, making me arch into him.
Looking down at him, with his face up my shirt, kissing and licking at me, I didn't think there was anything hotter in the world.
Dex kissed each side of my ribs with slow, chaste pecks. "Wish I wasn't so tired," he said, tongue tracing a line up my stomach.
Oh boy.
That wet, raspy tip stopped right between my breasts. I could see his head turn to the right, brushing a small line on the underside of my breast. His lips latched on to that inside swell, sucking it gently. Holy friggin' crap. He switched his mouth over to the other little globe and did the same.
I made noises that weren't entirely human as heat bloomed at my core.
And that's when he pulled his head out from under my shirt, planting one last quick kiss on my piercing. "Gotta shower, babe."
I choked. Was he serious?
My expression must have conveyed the what-the-friggin'-hell look on my face because he smothered a laugh by pressing his lips to my now-clothed hip. "I'm so damn tired. You don't need to stay up if you don't wanna," he said, coming to stand with his hands still beneath my shirt.