Sasha
I didn’t want to make too much effort, but my heart beat loudly in my chest, letting me know that Dexter had come back to rip apart the last piece of my broken soul. He’d said some unforgivable stuff in the hospital, stuff that wrecked my confidence, reminding me about the past. I knew that if I invited him in we could end up in bed, back to square one, so I had to demand we talk on neutral ground.
I changed quickly, dressing in a pair of leather pants and navy top, making sure that it was low cut. Despite everything, I liked making him needy and frustrated. Dexter needed to see what he had lost and I wanted to make him as uncomfortable as I could during the whole dinner. He hated being around other people and he was going to feel uneasy in a busy restaurant. It was a test: I needed to see if he had been taking to his meds, that the episode from weeks ago and the following time in hospital had taught him anything at all.
Several deep breaths later I went outside, looking sexy. The humid, sticky air wasn’t helping with my overactive libido, but I told myself that I could get through this.
When I jumped into his car, wearing my black heels, his eyes were glazed with lust. I swallowed hard, reminding myself to keep my distance.
“You look gorgeous, Barbie.”
“Really? Complements, Dex? Have you bumped your head or something?” I asked, laughing.
“Actually, I have never been better, thanks to you.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Was he thanking me for locking him in the psychiatric ward? Impossible. Dexter had never been grateful for anything before. I glanced at him, wondering if I had missed something. For some reason he looked tense, nervous and not like his confident usual self. Something was definitely different about him. My hormones were going into rapture, preheating and lubricating my core. Our sweaty bodies in that hotel room, in his apartment, it was perfect and sexy and I wanted more. My inner voice reminded me that it was the past.
“What are you thinking about, Sasha?”
His voice drew me back and I flinched, feeling the familiar flush creeping over my cheeks. Fuck, we were at the traffic light and he was staring at me with those gleaming brown eyes.
“Nothing that you should be concerned about,” I replied in a low voice.
He smirked and the car moved. “You’re terrible liar, Barbie. You’re turned on and you want me to fuck you again. I can tell by the way you’re squirming and clenching those thighs.”
Bastard. I shifted in my seat and looked away, knowing that I was so freaking wet that it was uncomfortable.
“And I thought that you had changed.” I snorted, shaking my head.
“You love when I talk to you dirty, you sassy liar.”
He knew me better than I knew myself, but I refused to acknowledge it. Something was definitely off about him. This new, different Dexter, this calmer and civilised one was much more frightening than the dirty and arrogant one, and he was less predictable.
He parked the car somewhere in the city centre and winked at me when I crossed my arms over my chest. My gut was telling me that I was making a mistake, that I was stepping into dangerous territory. Dexter was destructive and I was supposed to start over, away from him.
“We need to hurry this up. I was supposed to have a date tonight.”
Dexter
I stopped and looked at her. She was fucking with me. The only date that she was having tonight was with me and my cock. The other asshole, whoever he was, could go to hell for all I cared. Her words made me feel like she was slowly slicing my skin apart with a razor. She was only punishing me and I couldn’t let her get to me.
The restaurant wasn’t too far. I had picked out a decent Thai place in the centre of Edinburgh and demanded their best table by the window, away from everyone else.
“I’ll let that one slide, Barbie. You ain’t seeing anyone else tonight. We both know that your pussy belongs to me,” I muttered. “I’m asking nicely, so hear me out.”
She raised both of her eyebrows, folding her arms over her gorgeous chest.
“Is this what you call nicely?” she asked, shaking her head. “What do you want from me, Dex? You told me that you were done with fucking whiny fat blondes, and now you’re here acting like nothing happened, like everything is all right.”
She cut me down to size with that statement, but all I could think of was her tight wet folds. This was getting out of control. I had to get down to business and stop thinking about sex.
“I owe you an apology. I wasn’t fucking thinking straight then. In the hospital, you took my hand and I got scared, petrified of having someone in my life, someone that gave a damn. Barbie, you mean the world to me and I want to try this whole monogamous relationship thing with you,” I said, looking straight into her green eyes, so she knew that I was being honest.
She stopped smiling and looked at me like I was still psychotic.
“Don’t blame this on your mania, Dexter. You meant every word that day.”
I reached out and took her hand, and my cock strained in my jeans. For the love of God, instant hard-on for my Barbie. It looked like my cock did work after all. I was ready to strip her and screw her on the table in front of everyone here, but I had to make her believe me first.
“Sasha, for fuck’s sake. I’m sorry. I can get on my knees and apologise and beg forgiveness if you want me to, but you’re the best thing that happened to me. I want more. I want to fuck you so bad, but not just today. All day, every day, any time of the day or night. I don’t want any other pussy, Sasha.”
She was holding her breath and I was wondering if this whole prepared speech would do me any good. I couldn’t treat her like shit anymore, but I was inexperienced with this whole vanilla emotion talk. My feelings right at this moment weren’t relevant. She didn’t believe me, and until she did, I wasn’t ready to reveal how I felt.
“But you don’t believe in love or relationships. We had fun, Dex, but I can’t do this. I can’t pretend that we can make this work.”
Stubborn to the extreme, but she was more than that; she was relentless in believing that I still wanted to fuck the whole city.
“I didn’t before you, but now I want to make you come every day. I want you and only you,” I insisted.
“Any drinks?” asked the waiter, interrupting my cheesy monologue and pissing me off. Sasha pulled away her hand, tossing her blond hair behind her. I really wanted her in my apartment tonight, but she was wary, apprehensive. Maybe this wasn’t what she wanted to hear; maybe she was expecting a marriage proposal. Christ, I wasn’t ready for that.
“Champagne, the best you got, and now get fucking lost,” I barked. The waiter mumbled something and disappeared.
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