Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Faina

Dex is singing. He's driving us back to the rental—after promising me he’d be able to drive on the correct side of the road in the white stuff—and now he’s singing. And tapping his fingers and generally appearing… I don’t know. Not nervous per se, but something.

I slip out my phone and text Ava.

Me: How’s Will?

She replies immediately.

Ava: Not great, but not awful. I’m praying I don’t get it because it doesn’t look like a whole lot of fun.

Me: I’m praying along with you. Did you know Dex was going to be here? That Will promised him the rental house as well?

Ava: *emoji of devil grinning* Of course I knew. I was sitting next to Will when he told him about it.

I stare at my phone, reading the message again, because surely my sister wouldn’t do that to me.

Me: AVA!!!! What in the hell?!

Ava: ::Evil laugh:: What? Brooks was a douche from day one, and you needed to step out of that and have a bit of fun. Who better to do that with than Dex? The man doesn’t know the definition of laying low and could use you to balance him out a bit and keep him out of trouble.

Me: He nearly just attacked Santa!

Ava: But I’m positive you stopped it.

Me: He stopped himself.

Ava: See, already a positive influence. Besides, Dex has always had a thing for you, and you could definitely use being on Santa’s naughty list this year. It’s time.

My face flushes, and I quickly glance over at Dex. He’s singing and tapping and very focused on driving without killing us. I return to my phone.

Me: He has not always had a thing for me.

Stupidly, that protest doesn’t stop the butterflies swirling in my stomach. If anything, they’re in hyperdrive because I’m literally headed home to have sex with him. Who does that? Who makes plans to have sex with a rock star? One lousy text from my ex, a few self-deprecating thoughts, and now here I am.

Without regret, just loaded with nerves.

But the way he kisses… ugh. Those kisses were freaking magic and lightning in one. I’m almost afraid of how good he’ll screw if that's how he kisses.

Ava: Riiiight, you’d know better than I would because it’s not as if I’m his best friend’s wife or anything. *eye roll emoji* He’s always had a thing for you but felt you were way out of his league and far too good for him. Now take advantage of that and get yourself laid by someone who knows what a clit is.

Me: How do you know he knows what a clit is?

Ava: Please. I’ve heard the stories about Dex Chapman same as you have. Even in high school, he was known for giving girls orgasms, and high school boys are helpless. Thank God Will is his best friend and coached him young. Plus, we both obviously watched that sex video.

Me: Fine. But what makes you think we’re going to have sex?

Ava: This is how…

A picture of Dex kissing me by the antler arch comes through, and I gasp. “No!”

“What is it?” he questions. “Everything okay with your sister and Will?”

“How did you know I was texting Ava?”

He gives me a sideways look. “Because I’m not a fool.”

“Oh, no?” I flip my phone so he can see the screen, and he jerks the wheel, causing us to slide. “Shit!” he hisses, righting the car when we both go flying about.

“Asshole! You could have killed us!”

“Sorry! I wasn’t expecting that. Warn a man next time.”

“Warn you?! You kissed me on a public square after nearly attacking Santa. You knew people were snapping pictures.”

“I didn’t know they’d get that.” Then he laughs and shrugs. “Oh well. Seems we’re now dating.”

“Dating?! I didn’t agree to date you.”

He rolls his eyes. “Not for real, princess. Just… you know… on social media or whatever.”

“Um. No. That wasn’t part of the deal. You said we’d been seen together and that it would spread rumors, but after the week, those would fizzle out when nothing came of it. Something came of this.”

“And yet you allowed me to kiss you and said you wanted to go home with me. We’ve been kissing and touching all morning, and none of it has been covert. Face it, love. You’re my woman now.” His eyebrows bounce suggestively.

“Dex, this isn’t a joke.”

He groans, pulling off his gray beanie and running a hand through his sandy-blond hair. “Fai, it’s not the horrible thing you’re making it out to be either. They’ll call us a rebound, and after the first of the year, they’ll move on.” He laughs then. Rather loud. “I don’t even have a PR person to put out a statement, so the wheels on this will spin until I hire someone new.”

“Fantastic,” I grumble.

“ You could be my someone new.”

He’s smiling, quite pleased with himself.

“No, thanks.”

“Honestly, I’d love it if you’d consider the job. I’m not joking. I pay extremely well and need someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing and isn’t an evil, manipulative bitch.”

I move closer to the window, folding my arms over my chest. “I live in Boston.”

“London is better.”

“No, it’s not.”

“You don’t have to live in London to be my PR person. You’d just have to fly in anytime I needed you, which might be all the time.” He winks at me. “You never know.”

“No, thanks,” I repeat, staring out the window.

“You already said there isn’t much for you in Boston now. It’s a real offer. Think about it.”

He lets it die there, and a few minutes later we’re pulling into the house, and he shuts off the car. Reaching over, he takes my hand and turns me to face him.

“Are you really angry?”

“The world thinks I’m having a holiday fling with a rock star.”

He tilts his head, treating me to that devilish, crooked smile complete with irresistible dimples. “Well, you are.”

“But I didn’t want the world to know that! A few pictures of us together in a friendly way is one thing. Us making out on the street is another.”

His fingers run along my cheek. “What are you so afraid of, Faina? Why is the court of public opinion so important to you?”

“Because I want to be respected. Who’s going to hire me now? Who’s going to respect me now?”

“Princess, respect is earned and not given. You want them to respect you, be someone who demands it. Be a force of nature who owns herself and her life and doesn’t allow others to dictate how you do things. Ever. One thing I’ve learned in this business is that haters are going to hate. People will always have an opinion, and oftentimes, it’s not favorable. But that’s on them. It’s their problem to deal with, not yours.”

“So says the man who orchestrated this so we’d be seen together, and it would improve his public image.”

“That’s for my endorsements. For my label. This is my career, and unfortunately, my career is tied to my public image. But as for me? I don’t regret breaking that arsehole’s nose, and I don’t regret sacking my bitch of an ex. Frankly, both did me a favor because I knew I wanted out with her for a while but couldn’t find a way to do it. It just happened to backfire on me. But you, my adorable little elf, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You’re a woman, fierce and strong and proud. Own your sexuality. Own your life. And make no apologies for it.”

He’s right, of course. I’ve been living my life for others. So afraid of the court of public opinion that I’ve been too scared to do much of anything for myself. Who else am I living this life for other than myself? When I’m old and gray, I don’t want my life to be overshadowed by my regrets. I thought the same thing this morning, but it’s time I don’t just think the words, it’s time I believe them.

It’s with that thought that I attack him.

I launch myself across the console and drop most of my body weight onto Dex’s chest. He gives me a fantastic grunt and then quickly catches up as his mouth claims mine and his hands meet the sides of my head.

“Do you want a safe word?”

I pull back on a wet gasp. “A what?”

He’s laughing at me. “A safe word.”

“Are you into BDSM?”

“I mean, if you’re asking if I want to tie you up and spank your arse red while making you come, the answer is yes.”

“If that’s what you plan to do, I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty I do not need a safe word.”

“Oh, love, we’re going to have the best week together.”

Just not more than that. The thought makes me inadvertently frown, and I hate that. Like hate it! A boyfriend or commitment is not what I’m here for. So I need to get over it. I’m just used to that style, is all. That’s why my insides suddenly feel like they’re twisted into knots at the idea of this ending after a week and him returning to England without me.

Pushing all that aside, he drags my mouth back to his, his tongue immediately seeking entrance into my mouth and thrashing against mine.

“Do you normally have a safe word with your lovers?”

He smiles against my lips. “No. Never. I just wanted to see your reaction. I swear, I’m not into the lifestyle or anything. I just like a bit of fun and kink with my sex.” Then he kisses me some more, his hands in my hair and on my shoulders, and impatiently ripping at my coat as his mouth consumes mine. My hands aren’t to be held back either. I’m tearing at his zipper and raking through his hair, and feeling so frustrated by the confines we find ourselves in I can hardly stand it.

“Inside?” I groan into his mouth.

“Yes,” he pants, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth and nibbling gently on it. “Now.”

Both of us race out of the car, slamming doors, and then as I round the car, Dex scoops me up and tosses me over his shoulder, making me yelp in surprise.

“You’re going to drop me!”

He laughs. “You’re half my size, princess. I won’t drop you. You move too slowly with those short legs.”

“I do not!”

“Not fast enough.” He races us up the front steps, punches in the code for the front door, and then once he has us inside, he lets me slip down his body. Suddenly it’s quiet. So quiet. The only sound is our heavy breathing. He stares down at me, green eyes burning with heat, a fire so bright I can’t help but match it, burning equally as hot for him.

I’ve never wanted anyone this way.

I don’t know if it’s because he’s an unexplored crush from once upon a time or if it’s because he’s a famous rock star or because he wants me or because it’s just him. Dex. No one has ever looked at me the way he’s looking at me.

No one has ever wanted me like this.

It’s not an act. It’s not desire for the sake of desire or being horny. It’s desire for the other person. It’s a wanting so fierce and penetrating there’s only one way to extinguish it. In an instance, we launch at each other, clashing with teeth and lips. His hands finish the job of unzipping my coat, and mine do the same with his.

We break apart to undo boots, and a laugh slips past my lungs. “This is ridiculous.”

One boot goes flying and then the other, and then we attack again, unable to handle the distance for a second, only for him to break the kiss to kick his other boot off that was hanging from his foot. He pulls hard on my hand, and I stumble into him, and just when I think he’s about to devour me again, he slows down, his fingers grazing along my jaw.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers reverently, and then his mouth dives in, his lips and teeth worshipping my neck, making me arch into him. His hands slip down, grasping the end of my sweater and pulling it up and over my head. “Fuck,” he hisses, pulling back so he can take in my bra-covered breasts. “I saw this on the bed earlier”—his finger runs along the lacy edge and swell of my breast over it, his eyes trailing the motion—“and I saw your tits too, but I swear, I was not prepared for how gorgeous these are.”

He lifts both of them, squeezing and pressing them together. His face plunges into the pillows of cleavage he created, licking at the crease.

“Christ, the way you smell.” He takes a deep inhale of my skin. “I need to taste you. Turn around and give me your perfect arse.”