On the Edge (The Grange Complex Book 1) novel Chapter 31

Sasha

He let me in and I went straight to the kitchen, wanting to see it for myself. All the containers were gone. He’d even gotten rid of the weed and whisky. He started opening the cupboards and drawers, showing me that there was nothing in them.

All right, so he was sticking to his medications, but drugs and buzz were just the tip of the iceberg. Depression didn’t just go away; it fed on a person, waiting for that one unexpected moment to strike back. I couldn’t just jump back into a relationship. We both needed more time, and if he wanted me, then he needed to show me that he wasn’t throwing out any empty words.

“Dexter, that’s great you’re not going back to your old ways, but–”

“Hold on; that’s not all. I need to show you something else.”

I followed him to the table. He typed something into his laptop. His elbow brushed over my stomach, accidentally, but I felt tingles running over the base of my spine.

“All right, so what do you want me to see?” I asked, feeling warm all of a sudden. All the windows were shut and it was humid outside. He winked at me and typed something else on the address bar. I leaned over when a new page popped up. It took me a few seconds to realise that I was staring at a support group website for people who suffered with bipolar disorder. My mouth opened, but no sound came out. I was shocked, not quite believing that he would join something like that.

When I glanced at Dexter, he was watching me with nervousness in his eyes, like he was afraid that I would take his honesty the wrong way.

“What is this, Dex? What does this mean?”

“I’m going to go to this support group meeting. Sticking to meds is easy, but that asshole Bishop said that I could have relapses. I don’t want to screw this up.”

The emotions that started floating back to me were dangerous. I didn’t want him to see that I was moved. Dexter Tyndall and a support group. This was the last thing that I thought he would do. All this time, he didn’t want to let me in, pretending that it wasn’t a big deal when he saved Joey’s life. I didn’t want to believe that he would sit in a circle of other people discussing his private life. A warm tingle began crawling its way to my heart. Shit, I wasn’t expecting it. Dexter was trying hard, probably because of me.

“Have you got the date of the meeting set yet?”

We were standing so close to each other. Sweat broke out on the nape of my neck, and a slow burn spread across the skin on my breasts. My knickers clung to my wet pussy, building a familiar desire deep in my core. I was always so weak around him, but now it was torture, because I loved him. It was a bad idea, coming here. It made me realise that I needed to feel him inside me again, that I wanted him to devour my mouth.

“Barbie, I want you to come with me. You know how much I can’t stand being around people, but I want to be clean for you.”

Tears forced their way to my eyes, but I didn’t let him see that these words melted my heart. We were discussing the possibility of being there for one to another, not the possibility of spending life together forever. The reality hit me like cold rain on a humid summer day.

“Come here, you knob,” I said and brought him closer to me, needing to satisfy that craving for closeness. I didn’t want him to see through me, to sense that I had developed deep sincere feelings for him, and now he was wrecking me from the inside out. There were endless possibilities, many other men, but Dexter was the first one that restored the idea that I could be loved again.

He didn’t waste much time; he wrapped his arms around my waist and started brushing my neck gently with his lips, barely even touching it. He was too much; this whole thing was too much. My resistance against him, the steel fence around my heart began melting, like ice in Hawaii.

“Argh, fuck it,” I rasped, bringing his lips down to mine quickly. I needed to taste him again, feel him heat the blood in my veins. Dexter’s hands were in my hair, his lips tasting, caressing mine. I moaned into his mouth, rubbing my thighs over each other. I was soaking wet, throbbing between my legs. He cradled me closer to his lean body and grabbed my hand, directing it down to his impressive erection. I imagined him making love to me this time, rubbing my clit while I was on top of him. I knew that I had lost this battle when he grabbed my hips and sat me on the table, spreading my legs apart.

“This is fucking happening,” he stated and claimed my neck with his mouth, moulding my breasts at the same time.

I moaned when his forefinger caressed my hard nipples, as he rubbed himself over my sex. I shut my eyes, arching my neck back, ready to forget about my own promises and resolutions. Dexter took off his T-shirt and pulled my trousers and knickers down, plunging his fingers inside me. I cried out with pleasure and the need for more. I didn’t know where I was and what was happening, but I loved it.

“All mine again,” he growled. I bit his shoulder, feeling that I was going to come apart when I heard the tiny voice of sweet surrender, as well as the voice of reason.

“No, Dexter, we can’t do this. I’m sorry, it’s too soon,” I rasped out, pushing him away. He pulled back, breathing hard. His eyes were crazy hot. I tried to fix my hair, buttoning up my shirt. The desperate throbbing was so freaking uncomfortable. It was going to take me countless hours of masturbation to forget about him.

Dexter exhaled sharply. His massive erection was popping out of his trousers, and a slap would have been a great reminder that we were still working on this whole “fucked-up relationship.”

“Told ya, Barbie. You can’t help yourself, can you? You want me so much.” He chuckled, leaned over and blew air into my cleavage. “I could motorboat these bad boys all day long if you would let me.”

Bastard, he knew how to get to me with that dirty talk. I never thought that I had it in me, but I liked rough sex.

“It was a moment of weakness, Dex,” I said, trying to laugh it off. “I’ll happily go to that meeting with you. Just let me know when and where.”

I kept my eyes steady on his eyes, not on his perfect, sweaty, muscular chest.

“And you’re coming with me to have dinner at my mother’s this Sunday,” he prompted, handing me a glass of water.

“What? Your mother’s? Why?” I asked.

“Because I want you to be there. It’s part of the plan, you know—to show you that I’m deadly fucking serious about us.”

He was annoyed now, and yet again, I was stunned. I needed to remember that Dexter was still himself and I needed to keep him on a short leash. This whole thing with sex was going to be very difficult, because I wanted him badly, but the desire for him was what got me into trouble in the first place.

Dexter

This woman was going to fucking give me a heart attack. She needed to see that I was taking my illness seriously. The whole thing with the support group went better than I expected and I even had a chance to grip her superb toned body against mine. That was a bonus, but then she panicked and pushed me away. I dropped her at her home a few hours later, waiting for some news from Ronny, but he had nothing. It looked like, apart from the initial charge for assault and ABH, Sasha’s ex was clean. I was getting anxious, but Ronny hadn’t given up yet. I offered him more money and he asked me to give him a few more weeks. He had to reach out to his connections. Ronny was working on it and that was the main thing.

“I have news,” Sasha said when I picked her up on Saturday night, a week from our heated-up meeting in my apartment. I made a mental note that if I wanted to make her fall in love with me, I had to make a huge fucking effort, which meant going out on dinner dates, the cinema, romantic walks and all that bullshit. I missed sex more than I thought I would, but Sasha’s pussy was worth the wait. Sasha was still wary of the new me, so who knew how long it would be?