Finding Me (2 page)

“…Are you even paying attention to what I’m saying?”

God, he’s all rumbling and demanding. It’s too much and not enough. Finding my breath again, I greedily suck in a big lungful only to push it out again in a whimper of absolute and undeniable need.

“Come with me.” It’s not a request. “We’re going to get something to drink and have a little chat.”

Just like that, I let him take my guitar from me, and watch dumbly as he packs it away. He’s got the rest of my stuff in his hands and give me the guitar case to carry. I don’t even bother asking how he plans on carrying it all to wherever we’re going. Or
where
we’re going.

2

Dex takes me to this courtyard down a long, skinny alleyway. The walls are ancient bricks, pathway constructed from cobblestones. This is everything I expected London to be in an alley. Quaint little stores with funky signs surround us. Locating one with a sign that reads Musik Mix Kafe, he pushes open a black door, the paint scratched off and re-covered about a hundred times. Inside it’s dark and my eyes take a few seconds to adjust to their new surroundings.

A few tall tables with stools crowded around them take up the middle of the room. Around the walls massive couches and chairs are placed with low coffee and end tables nearby. A long bar, transformed into a counter topped with trays of covered confections that have my mouth watering, takes up almost the entire left hand side of the café.

Leading me over to the wall at the far end of the interior, Dex motions to the oversized chair he has already taken a seat in. Such an intimate request, one that he surely doesn’t expect me to oblige. I’m warring with myself, considering throwing caution to the wind and

“Thinking too much,” he growls, yanking me to his lap.

Nestled between his muscular thighs, I tense for a minute, then slowly allow myself to relax. No, not so much relax as melt on the man. He’s like the sidewalk on a hot summer’s day in downtown Huston and I’m a pat of butter, sizzling on him.

A guy comes over and he seems honestly startled for some reason, though recovers himself quickly. “Dex, mate, how’s shit?”

Behind me, Dex nods, his stubbly chin snagging my hair – and he doesn’t clear it away. “Yeah, it’s fine, mate. Can you get me my usual and a fudge brownie macchiato for the lady, with extra caramel, chocolate shavings, and whipped cream?”

Oh. Em. Gee. That sounds so awesome. My tongue darts out in anticipation. Dex groans, his hands pinching into the flesh of my hips.

“Yeah, sure. You want it hot or cold?” This question is directed at me.

“Hot,” Dex responds for me, and I feel something poking at my ass.

“Sure. Get right on it.” He smiles and heads behind the counter, eyeing me every so often.

“Lacy.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, enjoying his hands moving along my lower belly in an achingly slow massage.

“You’re driving me wild. Distract me.”

Wild?

Me?

The mere thought is hilarious, but again, I feel him shifting underneath me, and the very obvious bulge throbs between my cheeks. “Uh…what…w-with what?”

“Why are you here?”

Why does he want me sitting on his lap?

“Umm,” I hum the sound, fading out. “Long story.”

“Ah.” His hand dips lower, grasping at my thighs. “And what have you got planned while you are here?”

“Uh…” I swallow. More like gulp. “W-work. Yeah. Work. Oh shit!” I’m jumping up now, having just felt him cupping me through my jeans. While I’m seriously this close to fainting, he starts to laugh deep in his gut.

“Probably for the best. Sorry.” Dex scowls, lips curled angrily above his teeth. “Where are you working?”

Settling into the chair next to his, I curl my legs underneath me, resting on the armrest next to him. “Nowhere yet.” At his quizzical look, I explain about the job placement service, how it works, and that when you call, you’re never guaranteed to get a placement where you want one, unless someone is hiring in that area. “So now I’m just waiting for her to call me back.”

“And wherever you get a job, that’s where you live?”

“Mm-hmm. Room and board are covered. I think she said they deduct a small amount from your wages each week or whenever you get paid, but it’s actually not very much.”

Our drinks arrive then, mine tall and whipped-creamy, and his a massive cup of black coffee. Grateful for the distraction, I sip at the creamy concoction, eyes rolling back in pleasure.

“This is amazing, Dex.”

He grunts, sipping from his cup.

Both of us remain silent, enjoying our coffees. His eyes consume me while I sip at my drink. The cream keeps sticking to my upper lip so I have to keep licking it. Dex slaps his hand down over mine, squeezing it. His icy blue eyes darken to blue-gray. Tension rolls off him in blasts of heat. It’s crazy, that
I
am the reason for his behavior – at least I think I am. Testing that theory, I scoop some of the cream with my finger and suck the digit slowly, exaggeratedly.

A low groan vibrates from his chest. Yeah, it’s definitely me. And that makes me giggle. So I continue, until I’ve finished all the cream, then I work on the actual coffee. I don’t know how much time has passed, but I do know this little exercise may have been a mistake. My body is humming with need.

“So what will you do if you don’t hear from this woman tonight?” He asks while rolling himself a cigarette, his tongue darting out to wet the paper before folding it over, and all I can think about is what it would feel like between my thighs.

The eroticism of my own thoughts startles me. I have made out with guys before but I had never been ready to take the next step. With a shake of my head, I try to clear my thoughts. And I fail. Miserably. “Um, stay at a place, a hostel…somewhere. I’ve got a map printed out in my bag.”

“And what,” he almost snaps, the cigarette hanging from one corner of his mouth. Like he’s only just remembered it, he takes the smoke and tucks it behind his ear. “Walk there? With all this?” Dex moves his thick arms towards my luggage. “Not likely. You’re staying with me tonight.”

My eyes are so wide I’m sure they’ll drop from the sockets. “What? I can’t just–”

“Can’t just what, Lacy? Admit your parents would come and fetch you if they knew you were staying in a hostel? Can’t take my bed while I crash on the couch? Can’t trust me?”

We’ve reached a stalemate here. He is full on demanding that I spend the night with him and I am trying to maintain some kind of dignity while struggling with the urges his body made me soak up and take on as my own.

It’s true, he hasn’t done anything to show me that I can’t trust him. In the same breath, I don’t know him. He could be a really good actor on the surface and a serial killer beneath his dangerously sexy and suave exterior. His apartment could very well be a place of torture.

Sensing my inner turmoil, Dex clasps my hands in his. One of his thumbs moves slowly over my palm sending a deliciously erotic message to my brain. “Look. I know you don’t know me, and I don’t know you either. I’m not the kind of guy who randomly picks up a bird in the park and invites her ‘round to stay the night. I dunno what it is…” With a heavy sigh he scrubs a hand over his face and then through his dark hair, the strands dancing wildly before falling back into place.

“You bring out this…instinct in me. Protective.” His eyes dart away and I turn to follow, watching the guy who brought our drinks backing up to the counter. Giving my hand a squeeze, he brings my attention back to him. “I’ll stay at a mate’s place if you want, and you use my flat, if that makes you more comfortable. And Lacy?” My entire body is motionless as stone. He moves closer, his cologne and the scent of his skin, clean, hard, and hot, drift around me, drugging me. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

We pass a few minutes staring into each other’s eyes, the time punctuated by our breaths which grow shallower and louder. I break away first, a necessary action to clear my head, and focus on the music I hadn’t noticed earlier. Acoustic guitars strumming an unfamiliar tune with a hauntingly beautiful voice accompanying the chords.

“So,” Dex begins, clearing his throat, “tell me more about you. I get that you’re looking for a job here, but, why have you come all the way from America to work?”

“Well, I uh, I was born here–”

“In England?”

“Yeah. I… It’s… I don’t like to talk about it though.” Nervous now, I fold my hands in my lap. Then unfold and refold them, twisting my fingers repeatedly.

Dex turns in his chair and clamps one large hand down on mine putting an end to my fidgeting. “I’m gonna guess that it has something to do with why you have that sexy American accent then, the reason you don’t like to talk about it.”

I nod, scrunching up my nose. Feels like he’s trying to get inside my head and read my mind. He just keeps penetrating me with his icy stare working me into state of anxiety until I snap. “You really want to know why I’m here? Fine. You got it. My real parents didn’t want me so they left me on the side of a dirt road at the bottom of a driveway in Texas. My adoptive parents found me after I’d been out there for only God knows how long. I spent a week in the hospital and then they had a lawyer draw up the papers to adopt me if no one came looking for me within a certain time period. No one did.”

Shutting my eyes to block him out doesn’t do a thing for the familiar ache flooding my system. Nineteen years can’t erase the pain and for the first time since I devised this crazy plan I feel like I may have made a huge mistake in coming here. I’m alone. I have no one to hold my hand when I need a human connection. No one to hold me and tell me it’s going to be okay. Even that’s a lie.

“C’mon, Lacy.” Dex tugs me to my feet. “Let’s go back to mine.”

3

Standing on the steps behind Dex, who is currently busy unlocking the door to his apartment on the fourth floor of an old building with no elevator, the sound of my own racing pulse thunders inside my head. Part of me can’t believe I’m here. Another part, a part I’ve never given any authority to, is so freaking excited to be going into his space that it’s doing a happy dance. A very suggestive happy dance. Picture a pole and stripper heels and you’re getting warmer.

Once inside his place, Dex carries my stuff straight into his bedroom which is directly across from the front door. It’s so small, his entire apartment about the size of my room and ensuite bathroom back home. Kicking off my shoes, I nudge them gently to the side. When I look up, he’s standing there, watching me. No, not just watching, he’s consuming me with his eyes.

Pent up longing clashes with sensible reasoning, an explosive battle met and lost by both parties. I have only the time it takes for me to inhale sharply and then he reaches me. Pressed up against the door, holding me there with his body, Dex slides his calloused fingers along my jaw until they meet at the nape of my neck. His lips touch mine, just a soft, testing, teasing touch, and I’m trembling. His next move brings my arms high above my head, both hands clasped tightly in one of his. My eyes flutter to a close under the heated caress of his breath on my cheek.

Then he kisses me. Not a simple kiss. He is full on claiming me. Branding me with every swipe of his tongue against mine, his mouth hot and hard and demanding. I don’t question the loss of his hand from my neck, sliding down my shoulder, in the sensual daze he’s put me in. Not even when that same hand cups my left breast and begins tugging on the tight peak of my nipple, jolting awareness through me.

Breaking away from my lips all too suddenly, Dex bends his knees low enough to sweep me into his arms, and he stalks off to his bedroom. There isn’t enough time to think about the consequences of what is surely about to happen. Hands will fumble at clothing, bodies will tumble together, succumbing to desires.

I couldn’t be more wrong.

Dex deposits me gently on his bed and without saying a word his hands move to the fly of my jeans. He watches my eyes while working the button through the eyelet and pulling at the zipper. They don’t leave mine, even while his fingers working the denim down my thighs. Then he makes quick work of removing my blouse and the black lacy camisole underneath. He swallows loud enough for me to hear, eyes wide with unreserved desire as he looks me over.

I let my eyes drift over him, the strength in his broad shoulders and sculpted arms, rock hard abs beneath his fitted shirt, and lower, to the bulge tenting the front of his black jeans. Flicking my eyes back to his, I see Dex is smiling with a wicked glint in his eye. He reaches for the hem of his shirt, toying with the fabric in his thick, rough fingers. Just when I think he is going to make me beg, he tears the shirt off to reveal his perfectly toned body and numerous tattoos, curling across his hard flesh.

Leaning over me, he teases again with a succession of open-mouthed kisses all around my mouth, never touching my lips. I seek and he retreats, until I remain still for him. Only then does he give me what I need, his mouth on mine. We are playing a game – what that game is I’m not entirely certain, though the prize seems like it would be worth whatever rules he has set up.

My hands are tugged above my head again, and he secures one wrist to his headboard with a soft leather strap. Fear trickles down the length of my spine, like acid moving through my system. “W-what…”

“Stop,” his hot whisper tingles my lips. “That’s all you have to say. Stop. If you want me to, just say the word. This is for you, Lacy. I want to enjoy your body without interruption. I want to make you come until you can’t remember your name.”

Wowza.

I gulp down a breath. When he puts it that way, how the hell can I refuse?

After unhooking the clasps of my bra and freeing my breasts, Dex takes my lack of response as a sign of my submission and moves to place my remaining limbs in the leather straps, removing the scrap of black cotton panties before restraining my legs.