His tongue searched mine out, clashing with it completely off rhythm from the way he thrust that long shaft in and out. His arm snaked around my upper chest and the other directly beneath my breasts like steel bands. The position made his thrusts more shallow but the angle...
"Please don't stop," I gasped, curling my feet around his calves to anchor me down as his hips pumped harder each second.
"Not happenin'," he said hoarsely, slipping a hand down to press his fingers to the top of my cleft. Dex jerked his hips, spearing me hard. I tipped my head back, locking my elbows to keep me in place when his thrusts got rougher and quicker.
I'm not sure whether it was him or me that started to sweat first but my back was damp. My inner thighs trembled as they stretched wide over Dex's bent knees. "Dex, Dex, Dex," I chanted his name.
Gently, he drew circles over my clit as I squirmed on top of him, desperate for more of his cock, more of his fingers. More, more, more.
His teeth nipped at my jaw. "Love you like this," he murmured. "All soft and wet for me, baby." Dex thrust hard, making me cry out. "My own sweet little pussy… all mine… isn't that right, honey?"
What? What the heck was he talking about?
"Say it," he insisted when all I did was moan in response to a circling of fingertips over my clit. "Say it."
Oh boy.
I squirmed my hips over him, squeezing my core around his thick erection. "It’s yours, Charlie."
"Always," he made clear with a sharp thrust.
Oh friggin' hell. I could feel it. Feel that magical explosion of fireworks and rainbows in my toes. "Always."
The way he pistoned his hips at my confirmation said that he was a pleased man. Thrusting clear off the surface of the mattress, the arm around my chest clamped down.
Dex was like a man possessed, ripping an orgasm straight out of a pot of gold from me. I could have screamed, cried tears of joy, or started speaking in tongues as my release came over me, and I wouldn't have remembered. Fireworks zipped up my spine for so long I thought I'd melt into him, or at least melt around his girth.
In the quickest movement ever, he pulled out of me, closing my thighs around his cock as he thrust into them. One time, two times, sprouting out a rough shout as he came, splashing hot streams over my stomach and chest with languid pumps in the aftermath.
I panted in time with Dex's own harsh breathing filling my ear, making me deaf and dumb to everything else.
It was only the hot sweep of his hands over the swells of my breasts, shoulders, and up my arms that pulled me back to reality. His thumb brushed over the scarring of my arm. Lazily, slowly, Dex lowered our legs flat to the bed before rolling us to our sides.
Looking over my shoulder, I flashed him a tired smile and tipped my face up for a kiss. And what a kiss it was. Silky, gentle, more lips than tongue. More affection than possession.
Well, almost.
"Wake me up like that any time you want."
A smile broke out over Dex's face. All he did was palm the side of my face and kiss the corner of my mouth with a soft murmur, "Plannin’ on it."
Chapter Thirty-Five
I had the terrible urge to throw up when I woke up the next morning.
The first thought in my head, before I accepted that I was laying in bed naked with Dex, involved my dad. My friggin' dad. The man I was probably—hopefully—seeing today for the first time in eight years.
Shit.
Not crap, shit.
Whether it was nerves, anger, or a sickening sense of anticipation that filled my belly, I wasn't sure and it made me uneasy.
So uneasy that Dex caught onto it before we'd even left the hotel room. He was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, buttoning his jeans, when he frowned at me. "What's wrong?"
I wanted to say “Nothing” but I didn't. No more lies and all, right? I had to settle for giving him a sheepish smile at the same time I stole a glance at Uriel. Who am I kidding? I was looking at his nipple piercings, remembering briefly how they'd felt on my back hours before.
Snap out of it!
I tried to hide my awkward cough. "I think I'm a little nervous."
"Why?" he asked like my admission was absolutely stupid.
"I don't know. I think I'm nervous to see my dad since it's been so long, but I also kind of feel like we should be on a bounty hunter show or something. Does that make sense?" I scratched at my throat.
Dex narrowed his eyes, pulling his toothbrush out of his mouth slowly. "No."
Well.
"Don't be nervous, babe. What you got to be nervous about? We're gonna find your pa, and then we're gonna figure out a way to get this shit handled before I get sent to jail for murder," he said so nonchalantly, I almost could have dismissed the fact that he even brought up the possibility of going back to jail.
For murder. Because of me.
Oh lord.
I'd shank him before he did something that stupid, so I chose to ignore that part of his comment. "I don't think it's that easy."
He gave me a hard look, shoving his toothbrush back into his mouth. "It is."
I left it at that because in reality, how the heck could I explain to Dex why I was so nervous to see my dad? It wasn't like I didn't already accept the way things were.
He'd left me and my family. Check.
He'd left me at sixteen in the middle of radiation with a dead mother. Check.
And then he'd left me again to deal with his mess at twenty-four, obviously knowing what kind of people he was dealing with. Check.
It hit me right smack in the face. A hard smack that might have knocked a few teeth loose.
He sucked. Plain and simple.
He was no Sonny. He wasn't even a Will because I knew that if I told my brother people had been showing up to my job threatening my life, he’d do whatever he could to fix it. Literally, he would have done anything. I just hadn't wanted to drag him into this mess.
Curt Taylor was no Luther even. Lu had gone as far as to let Dex and I borrow his car to come look for my dad. He'd helped me look for his crappy ass. And he barely knew me.
Curt Taylor was absolutely no Dex either. No Charlie. There was no fierce possessiveness or loyalty. Nothing. Besides both being males and members of the Widowmakers MC, that was it. There was no other trace of similarity between the man standing in front of me and the one who had walked out on me.
This was a man that had left people who needed him hanging a million and a half times. What in the friggin' hell did I have to be nervous about? If anything, he needed to be nervous about meeting me. There wasn't a single thing that I owed him. This wasn't about reconnecting with him or seeking the love and guidance he'd ripped from me when I was too young to understand it.
He should be scared of me.
At least his organs needed to be. Because I swore to myself right then, sitting on the edge of the hotel bed, that I'd make sure he paid the damn Croatians back somehow.
The old bastard owed me that much.
~ * ~ *
“He’s a sneaky son of a bitch,” Sonny sighed on his end of the line.
Bracing my feet on the bottom rung of the stool, I glanced around the diner like my dad could be hiding in a booth. That friggin’ asswipe. “The guy at the front desk told me he checked out yesterday. Yesterday, Sonny. It was like he knew what happened or something.”
“Maybe he did, Ris. Wouldn’t hold it past the old bastard.”
“It’s bull crap.” I cast another glance around the diner, this time looking for Dex. He’d left for the bathroom a few minutes before but he hadn’t come back yet. “We’re going to try to go to a few different motels around the area and see if we can find him.”