Across the Vanishing Sky (Starlight Grove, #1)(119)

Dex took me in a tempo we’d never shared before, slowing as if he were memorizing everything about me from the inside out. As his thumb stroked my pulse point, it was almost too much for me to bear. The tenderness. The heat. The certainty.

“Tell me what you need, Brae. Faster? Deeper?”

“This,” I croaked. “Just like this.”

Each stroke drove inside me as everything about Dex imprinted itself on my bones. Not just this physical connection, but so much more.

My walls tightened around him, and tears gathered in my eyes. “Dex,” I breathed.

“I’m with you. You aren’t alone. You never will be.”

He picked up his pace, finding it with me, that place where we took each other further. To the edge before spilling over into what was only ours.

“With me,” Dex gasped. “With me.”

I searched for it, finding it in Dex’s eyes, in the feel of him moving inside me. It was a type of shattering I’d never experienced before. It started slow, growing and quickening until it turned into a wild fury. Light danced across my vision, but I held on to Dex—his body and his eyes—because I didn’t want to lose him either.

The sound that came from Dex’s throat was almost animalistic but so damn raw and real as he emptied himself into me and I took all he had to give. And as we rode out every wave together, no coldness remained in me. Because I wasn’t alone. I had him.

Dex slowly slid from me, lowering me to the floor and bringing me under the spray. His hand found my neck again. “Want to feel you when I say this.”

My heart hammered against my rib cage, fear and hope swirling in equal measure.

“You might not be ready. And that’s okay. But I love you, Brae. I love your fierce hellion ways. I love your tender heart. I love how you make me feel more understood than anyone ever has. And more accepted. You said I gave you a home, but it’s you. Because I’ve never felt okay in my own skin, so scared of what I could be—”

“Dex,” I croaked.

“But you made me unafraid. For the first time in forever. You made me okay with who I am.”

“Because it’s beautiful,” I whispered.

His thumb traced that pulse point. “You’re beautiful. Not just your body but the way you live. The way you inspire others to live. And I love the wild boy you’ve raised to be such an amazing human.”

My voice hitched. “He loves you.”

His mouth curved. “I know he does.”

I stared up at Dex, not moving, not even breathing. “I love you.” The words were barely audible. Just above a whisper.

They hurt. They cost me. As love always should. Because I knew it meant that if anything happened to him, I’d carry those scars with me forever. But I wasn’t going to run from this. Wouldn’t hide. Because a life without Dex would be like living in the dark. And I wanted the sunrise.

Dex froze. “Say it again.”

“I love you.” Just a little louder.

Unshed tears glistened in his eyes. “I feel it. I feel it everywhere.”

Then he kissed me, the same as before, but it meant more now because we’d spoken the words aloud and let our bodies give them a voice.

When he finally pulled back, he stroked a hand over my jaw. “Let me take care of my girl.”

And he did.

Dex rinsed my body, keeping me under the spray as he dipped out to grab towels. He quickly dried himself and wrapped the terry cloth around his waist before moving to me. Shutting off the water, he guided me out and softly dried every inch of my body.

“I’m okay,” I assured him.

He looked up from where he knelt at my feet. “Taking care of my girl. Because it’s a fucking privilege. Don’t steal that from me.”

My mouth curved. “All right, then.”

Dex wrapped me in the massive, fluffy robe I kept for the days I did leave-in hair treatments and painted my toes, then pulled out the stool from the corner and sat me on it. He fumbled around the bathroom looking for items, but I didn’t ask what. There were no nerves about him looking through my things. There was only peace.

He finally pulled out a hair dryer, brush, and leave-in conditioner. Assembling the items, he gently tugged my hair down from its bun and smoothed the strands. He lifted the bottle from the counter and held it up. “Dime size, nickel, or quarter?”

My smile pulled wider. “Nickel.”

Dex squeezed the exact right amount into his palm, then coated my hair, running his fingers through my strands and slowly detangling them. All of it felt like putting actions to his earlier words. It felt like love.

As the hair dryer flipped on and Dex meticulously dried every strand, that love buried itself deep. He reached for his glasses, studying my mane to make sure he hadn’t missed any spots, then met my eyes in the mirror. “How’d I do?”

“I love you.” It was the only thing I could say. The only thing I felt. No coldness, no pain, no fear. He’d burned them out. It didn’t mean they wouldn’t return or that I wouldn’t have to face them, but I wouldn’t be doing it alone.

Dex tipped my head back, his hand sliding down my throat. “Say it again so I can feel it.”

“I love you.”

“That’s my fucking girl.”