It was my whole ‘go fuck yourself’ spiel. I knew it. “Was it one of the club members?”
His answer was another tiny warning growl.
Yup, it’d been someone in the room with us. Oh well. If Dex thought I was going to change my mind and apologize for saying that to him, he had another thing coming.
"We good?" he whispered into my neck.
"Yeah." I nodded. "We're good."
"Good. Good." His hips moved restlessly behind me, tipping forward in a jerky motion that felt like he was trying to get situated on the couch better.
Only the issue was that we didn't fit. It was too narrow even when we were on our sides. So it came to no surprise when he didn't stop squirming.
"I don't think this is gonna work, Ritz," he finally said after what felt like a shimmy against my butt that drove me face-first into the cushion.
I groaned my response.
He grunted, then he shifted, then he grunted again. "Fuck, this sucks."
With a frustrated huff, the heat of his body disappeared before I felt his fingers sneak into my armpits and pull me back. "C'mon."
"What?" I asked him as he kept pulling, dragging me off the couch. I planted my feet on the floor and pushed up to standing.
"My bed."
My joints locked. "Umm..." Laying down on the couch had seemed okay, but laying on the bed seemed like a whole different league.
And he knew it because he rolled his eyes and tagged my hand with his. "Babe, quit thinkin' about it."
"Ah...."
Dex threaded his fingers through mine, pulling me. "What's botherin' you?"
How about everything? Lying in bed with a shirtless Dex? The way my ovaries had been overheating lately? Holy crap. It wasn't like I could tell him that. It'd be like throwing chum into shark-infested water.
"I've never—" I gulped.
"You never what?" he grumbled out the words.
Lord. I dug a finger into his rib cage, looking up at his tense face. "I've never slept in the same bed with a guy, Charlie. Besides you that other time."
He did one of the last things I could have expected. Dex stared at me for a moment before dropping his head back and huffing at the ceiling. "You're killin' me, babe. You are fuckin' killin' me here."
Dex tugged at my hand as he lowered his chin to look me in the eye. His free hand came up to grasp my chin. His expression was clear and serious. "We won't do anythin' you don't want. Promise. Just sleep."
Oh man. I nodded at him loosely, trusting him implicitly. "Okay." My breathing hitched a little. “I don’t do this with all my friends, you know?”
It was the sugary smile he gave me next that had me crawling into bed with him, even with my nerves all over the place. I mean, you only live once. And this was him. Someone who cared about me as much as I cared about him. I trusted him.
And in that moment I wasn't scared or worried as I followed him to bed. But as we laid down, with all the anxious nerves in the universe pooling in my belly, he touched my forehead with his fingertips in the dark and murmured, “You gotta get it straight, babe. This ain’t just friendship to me.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
There was something most definitely on my ass.
And my back.
And my neck.
It was definitely the thing on my ass that had woken me up. I usually wasn’t much of a dreamer when I slept, so when I felt that unfamiliar warmth kneading my bare ass cheek, I knew it wasn’t a dream.
One thing I was sure of: I was on Dex’s bed and the sheets were down to my waist.
I'd fallen asleep on top of them. I knew that without a doubt. Blinking away what felt like a coma, I looked over my shoulder to see what the hell was on me.
I shouldn’t have been surprised.
The lump under the sheet was connected to a ropey forearm, which then connected to a wide bicep with an impressive amount of definition even when it wasn’t being flexed.
Dex’s friggin’ hand was underneath my panties, palming my bare butt cheek.
Just sleep, he said?
I tried to roll over but that something on my back was heavy and solid, telling me that it was Dex’s chest, crushing me. So whatever was on my neck had to be part of Dex’s anatomy.
Holy moly.
What in the hell had I been thinking agreeing to sleep with him?
You were thinking that you liked him. That you trusted him.
If he wasn't a Widow I probably wouldn't be so scared, right? My gut knew the answer was a loud yes. Was that all really that held me back from him? It wasn't his temper, I could deal with that unless he yelled at me. Dex—Charlie—was so much more than his appearance gave him credit for. He was like aloe vera, rough and prickly on the outside, but the inside held all the gooey goodness.