Chapter Sixteen
T ap, tap, tap.
Dex pushed his face into his pillow, ignoring whatever was attempting to wake him from the deepest, best sleep of his life. The source of the taps was obvious, but he hoped someday the bird would get the hint and let him sleep in at least one morning. Dex was beginning to forget what it was like.
Unfortunately, this was followed by more tapping and some loud cawing.
Oh, for God’s sake.
He blindly reached for the window above his headboard, pushing it open and letting a rush of cool morning air flow into his bedroom, along with the crow. Hopefully, Harper would find some way to keep herself occupied and leave him alone.
Pulling his bedding closer, his hand made contact with soft, warm, and, more importantly, naked skin. Cracking a single eye, he was rewarded with the vision of Selah’s delicate back, as she slept facing away from him.
What an instant hit of joy it was to discover last night hadn’t been a dream. He’d had her and was hoping to keep having her. Sex with Selah may have blown his mind. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed it before. He wasn’t sure if it was because he’d been pining over Selah for a while or maybe because she kept giving reasons on why they couldn’t be together, making everything extra thrilling about doing something they shouldn’t. Either way, he’d been so taken by her, both in the physical sense and also on an emotional level, he’d nearly lost his mind when her body had tightened and pulsed around him. Last night they’d existed in a bubble of their own making. She was beautiful and tempting and within easy reaching distance now. He wanted to live in the moment again, take up permanent residence within the bubble.
He liked having this. In contrast, Ava appreciated her space, to the point where there weren’t many overnights together. She’d push him away with a shoulder when she felt he’d done enough, making him feel that any above and beyond physical affection was clingy. Because his parents were also the same way, he had wondered if he was the odd one for aching for something more.
In the bathroom last night, he’d had an epiphany that his relationship with Ava had been one of easy convenience. It was what his friend, Jon, had seen but hadn’t overtly said. There wasn’t anything of substance between Dex and Ava. They hadn’t fit together easily, like puzzle pieces meant to match. It was glaringly obvious now because he clicked with Selah without much effort at all. The difference was significant and eye-opening. Getting married to his ex would have been a huge mistake. He was grateful Ava had seen this and had given him one last figurative shoulder push, shoving him into something better. It was then Dex had realized he’d spent way too long in the bathroom and Selah was probably wondering what had happened to him.
But she had stayed. She was here this morning. He ached to touch her, deciding to try sliding his arm over her hip, tucking her into him, slipping his face into the crook of her neck. Selah smelled sagey and sweet, and he inhaled as much as he could in a deep contented breath.
She stirred, made a soft “hmm” noise before sighing and snuggling into him. His heart broadened to fill every inch of his chest, and he looked to Harper, who perched on his headboard. Dex lifted his brow at the bird as if to silently tell his feathered friend, Hey, look, buddy. Found a real treasure with this one.
Harper’s black eyes studied him, cocking her head one way, then the other. She held one of her gifts in her beak, a bit of colored glass. It was one of those flat marbles his mom used to put in candle decorations and flower vases. After more head cocking, Harper made her way across the top of the headboard, setting the flat yellowing marble on the nightstand before hopping onto the floor and leaving the bedroom for the kitchen.
The crow had chosen to leave the gift on Selah’s side of the bed, not his. This made his heart even fuller, giving him hope things were going to be okay. Maybe Harper would learn not to be an asshole. Maybe Selah would continue coming to his bed. And maybe he could relax in the knowledge he’d found someone who seemed to get him. He wanted her to feel the same way, to let her guard down and tell him what she wanted and what she was worried about. But, most importantly, he wanted insight into what that tattoo of the three circles on her wrist meant.
Her right arm was stretched across the bed, palm facing up. He stared at her tattoo, couldn’t stop pondering it. He didn’t have one, but he knew tattoos were personal, a clue into the person who possessed them.
He pressed a soft kiss to her bare shoulder.
“Mmm,” she said sleepily. “I like it when you have a little scruff. The scratchiness against my skin is the best.”
“What?”
“You shaved for the news interview, but now you have a little bit of facial hair again. I like this better.”
“Oh.” Dex had always been a meticulous shaver before. It was neater, cleaner, more presentable. It had fallen to the wayside after Ava broke up with him. Somewhere along the way, he stopped thinking about it as much. He didn’t want to shave every day and, since he wasn’t dating, there was no need. Except Selah liked him better this way. He found himself pleasantly surprised again.
He began kissing her shoulder, her back, her neck, wherever he could. She arched into him, stretching her neck to give him better access to the soft, sensitive spots of her anatomy. He gladly took advantage, sliding the hand he’d draped over her hip to the lower part of her body, taking note of what drew small gasps and shallowing breaths.
“I really shouldn’t stay very long,” she said. “Naomi is definitely going to notice my absence and she’ll probably tell my mother, and then there will be all kinds of assumptions that will most definitely be correct, because the Moreno women are hardly ever wrong.”
Dex didn’t stop what he was doing. It was too enjoyable, and he was working himself up as well as her, unable to stop pressing himself against her ass, his dick desperate in its attempts to be noticed. He smiled at her excuses as he continued kissing her skin. “Yeah, uh-huh. I’m sure you’re eager to get home, strike some notch on your bedpost, and brag about how this pilot just bagged herself a park ranger.”
She turned to face him, her hand going to his neck, humor lighting her beautifully dark eyes. “Why do you act like I’m some kind of Top Gun Maverick fighter pilot? I fly balloons. I think that makes me the lowest level of coolness in the piloting world.”
“I’ve seen you in those aviators. You’re cool. Definitely cooler than me.”
“Were you a nerd growing up?” The question was softened by the gentle kiss pressed to his lips.
“Not sure what gave you that impression. You don’t develop this kind of a body being really good at sports. No, you get it from spending countless hours playing video games at your friend’s house. We were knee-deep in a hoard of imaginary ladies.”
She giggled at this, pressing a kiss to his neck next. “Your efforts were clearly well spent, and have been noted and appreciated. I like it.”
“And I think it’s pretty obvious the feeling is mutual.” His body liked her more with each passing second. She was cute with her sleepy eyes, her slightly wild, wavy hair that would curl into her cheek and neck, and her warm, light-brown skin that was more than kissable this morning. Dex kissed her again, this time in earnest, letting go of his usual morning-after related anxieties when she responded to him in equal eagerness.
Selah suddenly broke it off, pushing him with a hand, a sly smile on her lips, until he was on his back. She climbed on top, straddling his hips between her thighs. “I just realized you probably don’t want to be kissing me before I had a chance to brush my teeth, and it’s even worse, because I don’t have a toothbrush here.”
Dex made a mental note to fill his whole medicine cabinet with extra toothbrushes. Except his brain didn’t dwell on his future shopping list for long, as he became preoccupied with this new and more alluring view before him. He slid his hands along her stomach to her breasts, cupping them. They fit perfectly within his grasp.
Before he could do more, she took hold of his hands, pressing them into the mattress beside his head. “Nope, nuh-uh. It’s my turn,” she said, her morning voice huskier and sultry. “Let’s make this park ranger happy he bagged himself a pilot.”
She stretched to his nightstand, taking one of the condom packets and making a big show of tearing it open, taking his dick in hand and rolling it on, as if it was a striptease in reverse.
Reaching to touch her again, she swatted his hand away with a light smack. “Sir, I’m going to need you to keep your hands stowed and secured. I’m in charge of piloting the cockpit this morning.” Leaning, she pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth before saying lightly, “Now sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.” He was so turned on at this moment, he was ready to explode then and there, and she wasn’t even wearing her aviators.
She lifted herself to take him inside her, her head dropping back and releasing the most breathless, sexiest moan. This, combined with the absolute feel and heat of her, had him clasping the sheets in a death grip.
As she started riding him, she whimpered, “Oh, Dex.” One of her hands were splayed on his chest to anchor herself while she drew a path with the other hand along her neck to her breasts, fondling herself. Dex gritted his jaw, his heart racing along with his breath, trying not to lose control too quickly. It was a miracle he was able to hold on as her pace increased, working him over.
She moaned again, an attractive flush spreading across her skin and her nails scraping along his chest. Dex swore as the thinnest string of self control broke. He gripped her thighs so he could press upward into her, meeting her as hard as she met him, unable to resist grunting through it, completely swept away. This kind of wild, mad turbulence had the potential to fling him right out into the atmosphere. He was pretty sure it did, right into the sun, as they shattered together in a thousand starbursts.
He hadn’t known something like this was possible or how he’d ever be able to accept anything less in the future. As their breathing slowed, she slumped forward onto his chest, releasing a sigh of satisfaction, and he wrapped her in his arms. Inhaling her lovely scent, he appreciated the weight of her. It was an anchor to his soul. He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths, wanting to be like Harper and shower this funny, cute woman with a bunch of trinkets. Wanting to give her everything he had.
“Thank you,” was all he could manage to say.
He couldn’t see her face, but he felt her cheeks pull into a smile against his chest. “Oh, you liked that?” she replied as though it was nothing and not absolutely everything. “You’re welcome.”
She might have assumed he was thanking her for sex, which would be a weird thing to do. Maybe she thought he was drugged up in orgasm heaven and his brain had stopped functioning. This was half true. But when he said, “Thank you,” it was a fraction of the sentence and meant so much more. The rest of it, the implied part was, Thank you for showing me that there were still sunny days to wake up to .