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btle change in his bearing and gait. A focus. He was making his way over to her, outwardly nonchalant, but there was no way Dex could miss what he was thinking about, or completely ignore the knot of desire that twisted low in her belly.
Being best friends with a hot dominant guy had never seemed like a big deal back when they hadn’t been into each other.
Back before she knew what he was capable of.
Back before she knew how his hands felt gripping her hair and how hard it was to take his whole cock.
The dance between them tonight was cat and mouse.
Her nipples tightened under the Xs she’d taped over them, and she forced herself not to watch him indirectly work his way over to her.
God only knew why he bothered. It was going to turn into a fight like it always did. Yet, even though they’d ruined their friendship, they couldn’t stay away from each other.
Ultimately, he approached her from behind. Every nerve ending in her body hummed with awareness of him, and the little hairs on the back of her neck rose. She struggled to control her breathing, not wanting to give away how close she was to bolting.
Predator and prey.
It was hot and awkward and uncomfortable. It made her want to scream and beat her fists against his ridiculously large chest. The whole situation was unfair. She wanted him, but she also wanted her best friend back. He’d made it clear she couldn’t have both without a commitment.
“What did Tarka want?” His low, quiet voice in her ear was almost a rolling in her belly rather than actual sound.
“What does Tak always want?” she rejoined, not looking at him. “Me. Every other woman in the room. To flirt and not be stuck fucking the same woman for the next ten years. He’s an open book.”
Grant grunted. He should know exactly what Tarka wanted. They were buddies and used to be on the same page—but now that came with the unspoken stipulation that Tak needed to keep his distance from Dex—not that he ever complied with that for long. As well he shouldn’t! Who Arabella talked to or who she fucked was none of Grant’s business.
“I’ve been pretty open about what I want, too, but for some reason it doesn’t meet with your approval, unlike what Tarka wants.”
“Because you want something from me that I’m not willing to give,” she replied. “You have to learn to be okay with that.” She turned and looked up at him, forcing her knees not to wobble. He got serious so fast these days. Good-time party Grant was completely buried under this intense angst-filled lust he kept aiming her way.
His jaw flexed and Dex could almost smell the gears in his mind screeching together in frustration.
“I didn’t come over here to fight with you.” At least this time he had the good grace to look sheepish. They’d discussed this to death and she really wasn’t interested in wasting yet another evening explaining things to him.
“So what did you come over here for if not to argue with me? It seems to be all we do lately. Everybody’s asking me why.”
“Yeah, me too. It’s none of their damn business, although sometimes I feel like our friends are dumber than we give them credit for.”
They both laughed, and in that moment it felt like old times. Maybe eventually things would go back to a semblance of normalcy, not that Will was around much anymore. The three of them used to be like the Three Musketeers, but now Will was busy with Juliet and baby Beau. Sure, Will came by to play at the club and to host, but the three of them weren’t constantly hanging out together like they once had. Now, with the wedding looming on the horizon, it looked like they’d never get him back.
It wasn’t that Dex had anything against Juliet. Far from it. She loved her. It just seemed like for the foreseeable future, they’d be busy doing married people stuff.
It was still weird to think of Will as a dad. His brush with death had changed him too.
As Dex struggled to scrape together small talk to use with Grant, Echo drifted over to them. Dex turned to her friend, grateful for the distraction.
Echo was tall, graceful, and beautiful, which made Dex feel like a corgi by comparison. A few months ago, when Echo had moved to the area, Dex had assumed the woman was a hard-core drug user because she always looked spacey. It turned out that she was a musician and composer who was usually a little out of touch with the world around her because she was so caught up in the music floating around her head.
Today, though, Echo’s dreamy gaze had a focus. Master Tarka.
“He stole your gum and your heart?” Dexter asked, trying to keep a straight face.
Even in the low light Dex was able to enjoy the blush that spread across Echo’s cheeks.
“He’s almost as much of a flirt as you are,” Echo mused. “If I thought for a moment he might be serious I’d be inviting you over for coffee so we could discuss how you felt about that.”
Dex could feel Grant drift away to talk to other people, and wasn’t sure she minded. She couldn’t think of anything to say to him tonight.
“Oh, you know I’m a love ’em and leave ’em kinda girl,” she assured Echo. “And as for Tak, unless you express a more serious interest in him all you’ll get is some harmless flirtation.”
