“I had a plan and everything.”
Dex chuckled. “Tell me all about it.”
I shook my head. “Not right now. I have something I need to say to you.” I cleared my throat. “No one has ever made me feel like you do. I don’t think you realize how much you mean to me.” I pressed my lips to his. “You check all of my boxes. Allow me to appreciate you.”
He laughed then, and it felt like he’d bathed me in warmth, filled me with his heat.
I nipped his chin. “Because you inspire me.” I picked up his hand and kissed his palm. “Because you’ve never tried to change me.” I ran my finger over the dimple on his right cheek. “Because you’re smart.” I smoothed my hands over his chest. “Because you’re my best friend.” I tugged his shirt off. “Because you’re fine as hell.” Chuckling, he rested his forehead against mine. I slid his belt off. “Because you’re strong and I feel safe with you. And you can pick me up with no effort.”
He grinned. “You’re silly for that.”
“Because you were my first.” I pushed his pants down. “Because you make me laugh.” I brushed my lips over his heart. “Because you make me feel warm even on the coldest days.” I wrapped my arms around his waist. “Because you’re everything.” I searched his eyes. “Because I love you.”
His lips captured mine. I poured everything I had into that kiss. All of my heart, all of my soul.
“I don’t know where we’ll end up,” I continued. “What Idoknow is that I want to be with you. Idoknow that I love you. So much.”
Dex cradled my face in his hands and planted the sweetest kiss to my lips. He arched a brow. “Does this mean we’re not going to go slow anymore?”
I cracked up. “I don’t think we ever went slow.” I smirked. “Now...” I hopped into his arms. “Orgasm me, please.”
He carried me to my bedroom, lowered me onto the bed, and pressed his dick to my core. “As you wish.”
We made slow, lazy love. When we climaxed, we did so together. Always together. And I knew that was where I wanted to be. Forever.
* * *
Dexter
Summer, this year
The text messageshad been coming nonstop all morning. In two short hours, my siblings managed to discuss everything from baby spit up and Blake’s upcoming wedding to the Young Family retreat and potato salad. Now, they were talking about the baker we hired for Mom and Dad’s anniversary party that evening.
Blake:I don’t have time for her fuckin’ feelings. We hired her to do a damn job. Tonight.
Bliss:Just call her back and apologize.
Apparently, the woman hadn’t answered any of Blake’s calls because my sister had insulted her at the cake-tasting they’d had the other day. Bliss had spent hours trying to smooth things over, but the lady wanted an apology from Blake.
Blake:I said I was sorry yesterday.
Dallas:No, you told her you were sorry her cake sucked.
They went round and round for the next several minutes, but Blake was adamant. Asa chimed in next:The party is tonight. Duke, can you handle it?
It took a few minutes, but Duke finally responded:Hell no.I told y’all not to hire her anyway. B is right. That cake was trash. It was hard and tasted like old cornbread.
Charlye came out the bathroom. It had taken a while, but she’d finally stopped emerging from the bathroom fully clothed in the mornings. The simple fact that she was only wearing a towel was a huge step. “Are y’all still at it?” She stared at the closet door where she’d hung two different outfits. “It’s been hours.” I gave her a quick rundown of the conversation. “Yikes. Cornbread?” She grabbed the black dress, brought it closer to the bed, and held it up. “This one?”
I shook my head. “Wear the one you pulled out last night.”
“It’s white?”
“So? It’s August. And it’s your birthday.”
“You know I don’t care about that. We’re here for your parents.”
Charlye was hardheaded. Birthdays were huge in my family, but it was like pulling teeth just to get her to let me take her to dinner. “But it’s your day too.”
