Finding Me Read online

  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.

  Utterly lost in my own desire to be claimed by him, I can only manage to lie there and watch as he circles me on his bed. I don’t allow myself to consider how absurd it is that I am in a veritable stranger’s bed, or that I have given him my trust enough to allow him to restrain my hands and legs with absolutely no barriers between his hungry eyes and my body.

  Exuding power strong enough to leave me trembling from no more than his eyes on my body, Dex continues his blatant perusal of me. His gaze is sear
ing, unapologetic in its inspection of, quite literally, every inch of my naked flesh. With just a look, he has me grovelling.

  “Please,” I whimper, unsure of what exactly I’m begging for.

  Him.

  I want all of him.

  Need to feel his hands on me.

  Want to see the rest of his body.

  “What do you want, Lacy?” his voice is thick with scarcely restrained longing.

  “I don’t know.” I shake my head against the softness of his pillow. “Anything. Just, do something!”

  “Lacy,” he warns, a dark edge to my name.

  “Fine! You want me to beg? I will. Touch me! Fuck me! Just…” My hips arch up from the mattress, seeking what they know they won’t receive. “Please, Dex.” This time I can barely get out a whisper. I get that we’re playing a game here, though I don’t know who is winning or if there’s even a point to it. I just want him to do something.

  And then, oh my gawd…

  My eyes crash shut. I want to cover my nakedness from his gaze in utter humiliation. I just went and begged a stranger to have sex with me.

  “Hey, Lacy.” I feel his weight next to me on the bed, then the warmth of his bare flesh is pressed against me. “What’s the matter, love?”

  For long moments, I don’t say anything at all. There is only our combined breathing, the thudding of my heart against my ribcage, and his hand, trailing continuously through the valley created by my breasts. Then he says, “You’re a virgin.”

  A label.

  It’s the truth but it’s still a label.

  I hate labels.

  Like adopted. Abandoned. Unwanted.

  All my life I’ve been labeled. When will it stop? When I come to terms with who I am? Or do I have to come to terms with the fact that I will always be labeled?

  Weight on the bed shifts and I feel his heat as he hovers above me. There is so much to Dex that I don’t need to see him to know where he is. Then his thighs rest between mine, the solid ridge of his very obvious arousal pushing against my throbbing and soaking wet core. I experienced many things when he kissed me against the door, the most prevalent being lust. Now, his lips moving in a slow dance with mine, Dex is showing me another side to him altogether. Soft, slow, sensual.

  That same kiss moves down my body, tormenting me, turning me into a writhing, hot mess. Dex skims his fingertips over my belly, swirling, going lower…down…down…down to where I want and need him with a force that honestly shocks me. Up now, his fingers pause beneath the swell of my breasts, heavy with wanting his touch. He is only too happy to oblige me my unspoken demand, stroking up to find a pebbled nipple with each thumb and forefinger, and he pinches. Hard.

  Fuck that feels good!

  If his growls of laughter tell me anything, it’s that I might have just screamed those words out loud. I open my mouth to apologize and he presses a finger there, hushing me. “I like that, Lacy. Don’t hold back with me.”

  Resuming where he left off, Dex aims his lips for no destination in particular, taking his time mapping out my flesh. His teasing kisses trail to the tops of my breasts which has me squirming for more. He pauses and I stare at him, waiting, silently groveling for him to go on. Those icy eyes burn into mine with unexpected tenderness making my breath hitch. It’s the words he speaks next that have my soul bowing to him in reverence.

  “If you aren’t ready to go all the way, Lacy, I understand that and I respect it. But I am going to make you feel worshipped. All. Night. Long.”

  Latching to one taut nipple, Dex pulls it deep into the wet heat of his mouth where he draws out his delicious torture. Back forming an arc and breasts thrust upwards, I’m completely open to this man, wanting everything he’s willing to offer me, and more. More. I need so much more. He has me wound up like a guitar string that’s about to snap if strummed too forcefully.

  Lower still he takes his torment on my body, lips alternating with his tongue over my taut abdomen, only coming to a stop just above where I want him the most. His gaze holds mine, asking again. Asking what? I don’t know, but he damn well better do something soon. There are about five million firecrackers attached to my nerve endings, all lit and ready to go off. They just need permission. I can’t find my voice to make the request to him though.

  Finally, Dex lets off a deep, low throaty laugh, leaning close to breathe me in. Oh. My. Gosh. The man is smelling me. Down there. It is the single sexiest thing I have ever seen. And he rolls his eyes back, licking his lips.

  Oh God. Touch me. Please.

  “All you had to do is ask, Lacy.”

  Again, I must have spoken words instead of only thinking them. Or he’s telepathic…

  With both hands cupping my ass he latches his mouth to my clit and I’m gone. Hips flying up, legs shaking, toes curling gone. Thrown into a pit of burning flames gone. But it’s one, rough finger sliding through my folds to push deep inside me, rubbing against some magical freaking spot that has me screaming out his name in a voice I don’t recognize.

  I’m still riding out the tremors of my release as he moves up my body and cups my face in his hands, giving me the sweetest kiss. I can taste myself on his tongue and it is so hot that I want a repeat performance. I think he knows it too, probably by the way I slide my legs around his hips, crushing his hard as a steel girder arousal to the area his mouth and fingers just vacated.

  “You have no clue how sexy that was, love.”

  Sexy?

  Perhaps, but I wouldn’t know. The word isn’t one I’ve ever heard used on me.

  My arms are aching now from being held above my head for so long. Whimpering, I test the restraints. Too secure. Dex sees me though and without a word he unclips the soft leather, massaging my arms one at a time to help with the return of blood flow. Then he slides down my body to repeat the process with the straps around my ankles. When he’s finished, he collects me in his arms and holds me. I feel cherished. Precious. Special. Things that no one, besides my parents, has ever made me feel.

  A little while later, my stomach growls. Chuckling low in his gut, Dex rolls away to reach for his phone in his pocket. He makes a call, ordering two large pizzas from a chain we have back home, asking me what I want on one of them. Happy to hear food will be here soon, I allow myself the fantasy and relax into his arms again. It’s weird how comfortable I am with him, though I haven’t known him for very long.

  4

  The sound of a ringing phone tears me from the most delicious, erotic dream. Slowly, I reach for the cordless on my night table – only to find someone’s arm instead. The events of last night come rushing back to me; eating pizza, talking, playing together…among other things, and my cheeks flush in embarrassment. I don’t even know his last name and I let him do things to me. Things no one else has done. Then I realize I’m naked under the covers. And my phone is still ringing.

  Finding my blouse, I shove it on before I answer, seeing from my display screen that it is definitely Melanie calling me back. She doesn’t waste any time. We spoke when I was still in Texas, and I told her I was open to working anywhere. Given my limited experience with hospitality employment, I thought it might be harder to place me than someone who had done this stuff before.

  “I’ve got you an incredible job lined up for you, Lacy!” Melanie exclaims through the line. “Remember how you told me you’d love some kitchen experience? To work with chefs?”

  “Yeah, I do.” For as long as I can remember, I’ve absolutely loved being in the kitchen. My mom is an amazing baker, but her everyday cooking always took more effort, and she always let me help. The earliest memories I have are in the kitchen or at the butcher or even a market. Mom and I used to go to farmer’s markets all the time to get the freshest fruit and vegetables, and I learned early on how to choose the freshest produce.

  From there it turned into a near obsession, cooking. Trying to make my favorite meals as healthy as possible, especially after Dad suffered a heart attack. I realized then that
I didn’t know anything about my actual family health history and could have some underlying issue. I love fries and fried foods – who doesn’t? – but until I know that I don’t have a history of heart disease or anything else, I’m going to be careful, only indulging every once in a while.

  “Well, I’ve got you a month long position at an inn with a five star restaurant. The chef there, Rhys Mackintosh, loves taking on new staff and he has an opening right now. Have you got a pen and paper handy?”

  I fumble through my purse for those items and when I’m ready, she gives me all the details. I’m supposed to call Rhys and arrange my travel up there as soon as possible. My heart drops into my stomach and I keep myself intact while finishing up the conversation with Melanie, promising to get in touch with Ronan when I’m done.

  It’s the phone call I wanted, the one I’d been waiting for, and now…

  Now I don’t know what to do. I want to stay here with Dex. I want to do anything and everything he tells me to.

  “That was it, wasn’t it?”

  I drop down onto the edge of his bed, eyes prickling with the threat of tears. “Yeah. I was so excited yesterday. Now, I don’t know.”

  “You’ve got to go, Lacy. Go and explore and have fun, find yourself. But during that time, I…” He curses. “Don’t forget about me, love, yeah? England isn’t that big, when you actually think about it.”

  Biting my tongue doesn’t work to keep in a sob so I let it out. Even I’m not so stupid as to think there could be anything between us to hold on to after one night. “The job isn’t in England, Dex.”

  “Wales then?”

  I shake my head, sending a torrent of cinnamon strands to drape around my face.

  He sighs, a resigned sound. “Scotland.”

  “For a month.” A. Whole. Freaking. Month.

  The hiss of air rushing from his lungs says it all. It’s too long a time to ask him to wait. He’s too much man to be kept waiting. It fucking hurts. I hardly know him and it hurts to think about not being able to touch him, kiss him. Hurts even more for me to imagine him with anyone else.