Across the Vanishing Sky (Starlight Grove, #1)(88)

My eyes flared in surprise. “I was at the farmers’ market. Do you have a thing against fresh tomatoes and cupcakes that look so fluffy they could fly away?”

“Why. The. Hell. Didn’t. You. Pick. Up. Your. Phone?” Each word was forced out through gritted teeth as Dex jerked a hand through his hair.

Oh crap.

I shifted, a flicker of guilt sliding through me.

“Yeah,” Dex bit out. “That little device people try to reach you on.”

I lifted my chin. “I didn’t know I had a keeper.”

“You have someone who’s looking out for you. And it’d be nice if you didn’t scare the hell out of them. Or told them you would be an hour later than you thought.”

I bristled at the demand. It felt too similar to commands of the past.

Get rid of it. I’m not going to have a bastard as a son, and I’m sure as hell not marrying you.

Get out of town. We don’t need to be publicly humiliated that our daughter’s a whore.

You need to give the baby up. Then maybe you’ll have a chance at an honorable life.

I’d been told to do this or that so many times. Ordered around like I didn’t have a mind of my own. A glare slid over my features. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, Dex. And I wasn’t aware I had to report my location to you twenty-four-seven.”

Those dark-hazel eyes flashed. “I don’t know if you remember, but some maniac left a bloody fucking necklace on your doorstep. And a note that most would consider threatening.”

“I didn’t forget,” I hissed. “I live with it every moment of the day, playing it over and over.”

“Then act like you remember it,” Dex clipped.

“I’m not used to people needing to know where I am, all right?”

That only seemed to make Dex madder. “People care about you, Brae. I care about you.”

Shit. My actual name. No Hellion, just Brae. And that stung. But the words that followed were the most painful bomb. He cared. And he’d spat the words like grenades.

“Why do you sound so mad about it?” I challenged.

“Because I am,” he snapped.

Those fathomless eyes tracked over my face, some unreadable emotion there.

“Fuck it,” he growled. And then he was on me, closing the distance in four long strides. There was no hesitation, no worry about what it might mean.

Dex’s hands slid through my hair with a forcefulness that had a wave of shivers cascading over my skin—the kind that meant all of me was paying attention. Those strong, thick fingers tightened in the strands, tugging my head back.

“Tell me to stop,” Dex gritted out, his eyes going stormy—the kind of storm that threatened to leave wreckage in its wake.

“What if I don’t want you to?”

“Hellion.” The word was pure warning.

“Burn it out, Dex. Burn it all out.”

It was all he needed. Dex took my mouth like a man starved. There was no easing into the kiss. It was nothing like the stolen, tender moments of before. There was only sharp demand and desperate need. And God, I needed it. To let out some of what had been stewing inside me: the good, the bad, the fear, the hope.

There was so much there that I never gave voice to. That was stewing and swirling. That I carried alone.

I gave it all to Dex now.

I poured everything I had into the kiss, giving as good as I got. Our tongues twisted and twirled, battling for supremacy. Dex’s free hand cupped my ass, lifting me. My legs encircled his waist on instinct, clamping around him and holding on, letting out more of everything I held inside.

I pressed myself harder against him, rocking, needing the friction. He groaned into my mouth as he turned and carried me toward the house. But he didn’t lose my mouth even once.

Dex fumbled with the door handle, maneuvering us inside. My hands sank into his hair, tugging silently, begging for more but not being able to give words to what that more was.

We knocked into a wall, sending a painting crashing to the floor as Dex stumbled with me into the living room. I only gripped his hair harder, hoping the painting hadn’t been damaged but not exactly worrying about what kind of dent that could put in my savings.

Yeti let out a bark, and Dex’s head twisted in her direction. “Bed,” he ordered, sending my dog running for her place in my bedroom.

Dex’s hand slipped from my hair, moving to my blouse, beneath it. My nipples pebbled against the lace of my bralette. It was almost painful, the way they strained for him. His mouth, his touch.

My legs tightened around Dex’s waist as he tugged at the shirt. I lifted my arms, trying to help, and he sent the fabric sailing to the floor. His eyes went hooded as they zeroed in on my breasts.

“So fucking pretty. Taut, little nipples. Dusky pink and goddamn perfect.” Dex’s head bent, his mouth closing around one peak through the thin lace. He sucked deep, and I lost all sense of space and time.

My back arched as a soft mewl left my lips. Dex sucked harder, and then his teeth grazed the tight bud. I let out a whimper as a flush of wet heat gathered between my legs.

My breaths turned to quick pants. A buzz lit beneath my skin, and my gaze went a little fuzzy.

“Taste like red currant and vanilla. Could live on that taste and nothing else,” Dex whispered against my skin.