Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Dex

“Happy Christmas,” I whisper into Faina’s neck sometime near dawn. Her small body is curled against mine, tucked under the heavy down quilt, bracing against the frigid morning air and the storm that blustered in last night. Outside the window, snow is whipping sideways in sheets of heavy white crystals.

I had a whole day planned for us, but with a foot or more of snow expected to fall just today, I don’t think we’ll be leaving. Honestly, I think I prefer it this way. Quiet. Snowed in. Just us.

What started off as a fling—a bit of fun—has quickly grown into so much more, but I have a feeling I’m the only one hanging out on that branch, and any moment, it could snap, and I’ll plummet to my death. I’d question if this were a rebound. A transference of feelings, but my feelings for Elsie were all but naught when I caught her with that slimy bloke in our bed. The way I feel about Faina is more like muscle memory.

Like going years without swimming, but when someone tosses you into the pool, you automatically know what to do and how to do it.

“Mmmm,” she hums, rolling and tucking herself in tighter against me. “Why do my limbs feel so heavy today?”

“Because they’ve been getting quite the workout.”

“I guess I don’t need sex lessons anymore?”

I grin, pressing my lips into her hair. “You know you never did, right? But whatever lessons we’ve had, you’ve passed with top marks.”

Her head tilts, putting her face deeper into my neck, where she gives me a soft kiss right on my throat. My body sighs, so bloody content I can hardly stand it.

“Well, if that’s true—the achiever in me loves that, by the way—I should go out and practice my newfound skills.”

“Like fucking hell, you will.” With a growl, I roll us until I’m on top of her and she’s pinned beneath me, both of us cocooned by the blanket. I grind into the V between her legs, watching as her lips part when my hardening cock makes precise contact. “This is mine, Faina.” Grind . “No man can have this.” Grind . Ever , I want to say but don’t.

And with my next grind, I slide inside her, punctuating my point until she cries out my name twice.

After our morning exercise, we make breakfast and coffee, and I start a fire in the fireplace. Wind howls past the house, but neither of us seems to mind as we turn on the telly and snuggle in under a blanket.

“I didn’t get you anything,” she declares, her voice forlorn, making me chuckle.

“What I ordered for you couldn’t make it here in time. Evidently being in the mountains of Wyoming has its limitations. Too bad, too, it would have been lovely to unwrap it from your body.”

“Are you sad we’re not going to the spa and then out for fancy dinner?”

“Nah,” I tell her, pulling her body tighter into mine. “This is perfect. I could spend every Christmas like this and be happy forever.” The words come out light and off-the-cuff, but they hit me—and hit me hard. I mean, I knew I had feelings for Faina. I knew I wanted more time with her beyond this week—that one week wouldn’t be enough. But the rightness of what I just said resonates deep within me, so deep I feel it in my bones. In my soul.

I wrote two songs last night in record time—pun intended—and both were about new adventures. About time not being on our side. About finding something new and wondering if it’s real enough to keep.

Is that what I want with Faina?

To keep her? Beyond a fling or a few weeks of fun. And what would that entail? How would something like that ever work? Would she even consider that with me?

Thankfully she takes my comment as off-hand and doesn’t press me. We watch holiday movies and eat leftovers, and I work on music while she reads and fiddles about on her laptop. She asks me to play for her, and I end up giving her a private concert, unable to stop because the look in her eyes when I sing to her makes my pulse race.

It isn’t until a text comes in that I pause, setting my guitar down to pick up my phone.

“What’s this?” I laugh.

“What you need to post on your social media.”

“It’s a video of me singing to you.”

She nods, hopping out of her chair and skipping over to me. “Post it and wish everyone a Merry Christmas.”

“But you’re not in it.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t need to be. You’re shirtless, only wearing flannel pajama pants, with a Christmas tree behind you on one side and snow out the window on the other. It’s Christmas porn, and it will be the cherry on top of everything you’ve done this week.”

I do as my lady commands and then toss my phone onto the sofa and take her in my arms. “You’re magic.” And I think I might be falling for you. I think I want all my Christmases to be yours. All my moments, actually.

I know I won’t be able to let her go when this week is over.

But I have no clue how I’ll convince her to stay.

“We should try the hot tub,” I say, needing to clear all that away.

Her eyebrows shoot up. “The hot tub?” She glances past my shoulder to the storm outside.

“It’ll be brilliant. It’s somewhat covered by the overhang, and there’s a gas fireplace out there we can turn on. The water will be warm, and we’ll bring alcohol.”

“Alcohol into a hot tub?”

“Sure. What else do we have to do?”

“Are we talking bathing suits?”

“I honestly don’t think my bollocks could handle walking out there naked, so I’m going to say yes. For now,” I amend because the idea of her naked in the hot tub… yeah, I’m definitely going to have to see that.

Ten minutes later, we’re both in bathing suits, bathrobes, and bloody winter coats. We started the hot tub from inside as well as the gas fireplace because the owners of this rental are seriously clever and thought ahead.

Both of us watch the heavy billows of steam rising off the blue, bubbling water from our warm perch at the window.

“Why are we doing this again?” she questions.

“I honestly can’t remember, but it sounded fun, and we’re dressed for the occasion. Hold tight.” I run back into the kitchen, grab the bottle of bourbon I bought, and return.

Faina eyes the bottle with a scrunched-up nose. “No glasses? Or ice?”

I laugh. “If you want bloody ice, just scoop up a handful of fucking snow. But now, it’s straight from the bottle for us, princess. Rock star style.”

“I’m not sure I’m groupie material,” she admits.

“Aw love, we all have a bit of the groupie in us. Come on. It’ll be fun. Or fucking awful, and we’ll come back in and get in the bathtub upstairs to defrost.”

She rolls her head around and shakes out her shoulders and hands. “Okay. I’m in. I’m ready. Let’s do it.”

Shit. I was sort of hoping she’d back out. “You go first.”

She throws me a side-eye. “Wimp. You’re supposed to be the badass of the two of us.” Unlocking the back door, she slides the glass door open and immediately screeches. “Holy fuck, it’s cold.” But then she’s shooting out the door, losing her winter coat and robe as she goes, before she flies up the three narrow steps of the deck and then practically dives head-first into the tub.

“Faina!”

“Ah! It’s so cold, but the water is really warm, and it feels amazing. Come on!”

“Fuck!” I pace to my right and then left. I can do this. I can… not. “No, thanks. Enjoy the tub.”

“Get in here! This was your idea, badass ,” she mocks, sinking down until just her head is above the water.

Dammit! She’s right. Sucking in a breath, I jump out into the snow on the back deck, slamming the door shut behind me, and then sprinting toward the upper part where the hot tub is. “Why didn’t we wear shoes?!”

“I don’t know! We thought they would get in the way.”

“I’m about to lose a bloody toe to frostbite.”

“They’ll thaw in the water. No! The robe!”

“Fuck!” I hiss, practically halfway into the water when I realize I’m still wearing my robe and rip it off, tossing it on the ledge of the deck. “Like it matters. It’ll be soaked in the snow in no time. So much for this being covered. The wind is giving that part of the roof double middle fingers. How on earth will we get back inside? Our coats aren’t near us, we have no shoes, and now our robes are lost to us.”

Faina is cracking up, which of course makes me do the same, even as I bite out a slew of curses, sinking down into the boiling water.

“We didn’t think this through,” she snorts through her laughter.

“Clearly not. We should have put our coats and robes by the fire, worn goddamn boots, and then gotten in the water.”

She shrugs, swimming over to me. “Too late. But if we die out here, we’ll probably be too drunk to notice.” She taps the bottle I’ve set on the ledge. “You saw this is a hundred and twelve proof, right?”

“I never check suck trivialities. Here.” I yank the cork out and hand it to her. “First drink.”

She shakes her head. “You go first.”

“Ah, losing all your bravery already.” I bring the bottle to my lips, and despite its massive alcohol content, it’s smooth like a baby’s arse. I take two large gulps and then hand it to her. “Here, love. Drink up.”

She takes the bottle from me, and then I move over to the ledge, making sure only my head is above the surface, because yeah, it’s seriously cold out. Twilight is masked by the deep shroud of clouds and heavy snow. Icy crystals sting my face, but other than that, with the fireplace hissing not even three feet from us and the world so quiet and dark, the mountains just barely visible in the distance, it’s actually incredibly beautiful and peaceful.

Still…

“What the fuck were Ava and Will thinking?”

She sputters on her dainty sip, wiping her mouth with the fingers of her other hand. “I have no clue. They ski, but I’m starting to agree with your idea of Christmas in the tropics.”

I bounce my eyebrows at her. “Coming over to the dark side, I see. I knew I’d corrupt you eventually. But truly, despite its beauty and peacefulness, could you ever live like this?” I ask, taking the bottle back from her and trying not to snicker too loudly at her grimace and shudder from the bourbon.

“No,” she admits. “The town is adorable, and the mountains are stunning, but there is something about living in a city I love. What about you?”

“I’ve only ever lived in a city, so I’d have to agree.” I take a few large gulps, already feeling the heat of the bourbon warming me from my belly upward. “Truth or dare?”

She laughs, rolling her eyes, even as she takes the bottle back from me and answers, “Truth.”

“Wimp.”

“So says the man who pushed me out the door first.” She takes a small sip.

I won’t go there. “Fine. What’s a secret you’ve never told anyone?”

She blanches. “Yeesh. You could have started with an easier one.”

I shake my head, snatching the bottle back from her and moving over to sit beside her. “Not my game.”

“So I’m learning.” She tucks herself in against me, and the hand not holding the bottle wraps around her, pulling her over me and tickling the skin on her side as air bubbles of warm water woosh around us. “Okay. Let me think. A secret I’ve never told anyone. I tell Ava pretty much everything, so this is even trickier.” Then she laughs. “Actually, I have one you’ll find amusing. Will kissed me once.”

“What?” I stir beneath her, shifting her so I can see her face.

She laughs harder at my outraged expression. “He thought I was Ava. I was sitting outside under the oak tree at school waiting for her, but I was wearing one of Ava’s shirts, and my hair was up when I usually wear it down, and suddenly his lips were on mine. I was so startled it took me a second to realize what the hell was going on, and when I shoved him back, he quickly realized his blunder and apologized profusely. He made me swear never to tell anyone, and I didn’t because it was not something I ever wanted to think about again, and frankly, Ava would have been pissed even though it was an honest mistake.”

I can’t help but laugh with her. “You really don’t have any demons hiding in your closet, do you?”

She rolls her eyes at me. “I don’t know. You make me sound so…”

“Boring,” I finish for her when she trails off.

“Ass.” She splashes me. “Yes. You make me sound boring.”

I lick a drop of water that’s rolling down her neck and slide my hand down until I’m gripping her waist beneath the water. “You’re not boring. You’re just so deliciously sweet and pure, that’s all. Nothing wrong with that, and truth be told, it’s one of my favorite things about you.”

She huffs, but she can’t hide her smile. “Fine. Truth or dare?”

I want to say dare, but I’m afraid she’ll send me out into the cold and snow, so I say, “Truth,” instead.

“Wimp,” she tosses back at me, making me smile against her neck as I kiss her skin.

“Definitely a wimp. You may be sweet and pure, but I already know there’s a wicked side to you.”

She wiggles against me, liking that description. “What’s your biggest fear?”

“That’s easy. Disappointing my fans and losing my musical mojo.”

She sighs. “I get another one. That was too easy.”

I pinch her side making her yelp. “That’s not how this works. What’s your relationship dealbreaker?” I ask.

She twists in front of me, lowering herself deeper into the water and staring up at me with clear, bright blue eyes, even in the waning darkness. “You didn’t ask truth or dare.”

“Now we’re playing truth or truth, and if I want to dare you to something, I’ll just start taking from your body instead.”

She moves over to me, her chest against mine and her head tilted back, her legs swiveling in the water, kicking out behind her. “That’s easy,” she parrots my words. “Cheating.”

I grunt, rolling my eyes, and then take another sip from the bottle before handing it to her. “Other than cheating, princess. That’s a given. For both of us, clearly.”

“Lying, I guess. Or being with someone who doesn’t see me. I don’t want someone to want to change me. I want them to want me just as I am.”

As I do , I think, but again, refrain from speaking my thoughts. For once.

I don’t think Faina is ready to hear that I’m starting to believe she’s the one I was always meant to end up with. At some point, I’ll just have to come out and say it. I’ll have to put my heart on the line and hope and pray she takes a chance with me.

But not yet. Not tonight.

“What about you?”

“Same. Most women want me for my money or fame or the fact that I’m a musician, since there is something about that to them. I want someone to want to be with me for me and for no other reason.” Like her. She’s rejected the notion of continuing this fling with me more than once. I’ve never had to work remotely this hard to try and make a woman mine before. And while the challenge and game are fun to a certain degree, the fear of losing makes anything but winning impossible.

I’ve never felt such a tormenting and blinding need to completely own someone physically and mentally as I do her. I want her heart. I want it as mine. And I need her to want to hold mine beside hers as well.

I don’t want her for what she can do to help my career, and I don’t want her simply because she’s fantastic in bed. I want her . All of her.

I love making her smile and laugh. I love seeing how she pushes herself past her comfort zone and is trying to not just embrace life but take it by the bollocks and make it her own. I love getting to know all the little things about her, things I never knew in all the time I knew her.

In turn, I love who I am when I’m with her. I love how she makes me feel and the way she sees past all that I am to the world. She sees the man I am inside.

She’s not someone I can give up.

Not when I’m discovering that there isn’t anything about her that I don’t already love.

“Come here,” I whisper, my voice strangled and desperate as I drag her face up and her lips to mine. She tastes like bourbon and that combined with her sweet body against mine and the water and the snow and fucking Christmas and all this bourbon sloshing in my belly, I’m drugged.

But more than that, I’m consumed.

And quite frankly, in love.