Playing Dirty #3
Dex side-stepped to block their path back to the veranda, swim shorts slung low on his hips to reveal the carved valleys of his obliques.
This close, they could smell his musky sweat and the woodsy, untamed scent of his skin, and heat that had nothing to do with the sun or sport rolled through them.
Nostrils flaring, he cocked his head, and a low rumble vibrated in his chest. He fingered the secure knot of their sarong, bringing a soft gasp from them, and his responding smile was all teeth.
“Is that a challenge, highness?”
Nerves flurried up their throat, but somehow, their voice held steady. “Perhaps,” they whispered, forked tongue flicking over their bottom lip to wet it. “You think you’re up for it?”
He growled again, and their chest filled with vicious satisfaction, their rattle clattering instinctually in response.
The air trembled with expectation, and goosebumps exploded over their skin as his finger traced the jut of their hipbone.
His eyes dropped to their mouth, and they swore he leaned in, like he wanted to kiss them.
Glass shattered on the patio, breaking the seductive spell, and Dex’s touch fell away as he stepped back, head turning toward the commotion.
Half-relieved, half-disappointed, Cya swallowed thickly and pressed a hand to their stomach to quell their wanton desire.
To distract themself from the maybe almost-kiss, they headed into the house to retrieve a broom at Hemersyn’s request so he could clean up the glass Jasmyn had dropped.
After everyone cooled off in the pool for another hour, they started to leave in two’s and three’s until it was just Dex, Jasmyn, Ellyn, Cya, and Hemersyn left.
Night was falling, and Ellyn was trying to convince Jasmyn to leave the pool so she could dry off.
Dex sat beside Cya on the edge of the pool, his legs dangling in the water, brushing their tail every now and then.
Their phone buzzed, and they checked the email from Pride University, inhaling sharply. “They posted exam results.”
At Dex’s insistence, they logged into the P.U. student portal and clicked on their dashboard. Their thumb hovered over the tab, before they shoved their phone in his face.
“I can’t look. You do it.”
“Uh-uh, no way! I’m not doing this again.” He shook his head resolutely. “I will not be the bearer of any more important news. It’s too much pressure!”
They had no idea what he was talking about, but they dismissed it with a huff. “Fine. I’ll do it. Coward.”
“You’re the coward,” he muttered.
With a fortifying breath, Cya clicked the tab and their grades for the semester exams loaded. They scanned the list, finding Professor Myls’ name, and audibly gasped.
“B minus,” they said, and Dex’s eyes widened comically as he snatched their phone out of their hand to see for himself.
“What? No way!”
His genuine shock should have been offensive, but Cya was too elated to care as they climbed out of the pool. “I got a B minus on the exam!”
Dex scrambled up after them. “I usually get C’s across the board, so a B minus is fucking fire!”
“It is fucking fire!” Smiling so wide their cheeks ached, they lifted a hand. “B-minus high-five.”
And Dex literally lost his shit. He wriggled in place, tail wagging exuberantly as he released a river of nonsensical noises. Then he howled up at the sky and said, “Yes! B. Minus. High. Five!” Then he slapped their hand hard enough to hurt. “Boom!”
Half-laughing, half-whimpering, Cya shook out the sting in their palm as they echoed a pained, “Boom.”
Bouncing with excitement, he dragged them toward Hemersyn so they could show off their exam results, and the Avia beamed at them, voice brimming with pride as he said, “Cya, well done. And Dex, too, of course. All those tutoring sessions seem to have paid off.”
Slinging an arm around Cya’s shoulders, Dex beamed. “What can I say? I’m a miracle-worker.”
“Asshole.” They elbowed him in his rock-hard stomach, making him grunt, but he didn’t remove his arm. They decided they didn’t want him to.
As Ellyn and Jasmyn said goodbye to Hemersyn at the front doors, Dex stood in front of Cya, toe-to-tail, and they lifted higher to eliminate the small height difference. He reached out and captured a chunk of hair that had escaped their claw clip and twisted it around his finger.
“You should keep your hair wavy like this,” he said, almost conversationally. “It looks nice.”
Taken aback at the compliment, they moved their mouth wordlessly a moment before saying, “My mother hates it.”
“Even more reason, then,” he said, giving the lock of hair a gentle tug. “Goodnight, Cya.”
“Goodnight, Dex,” they whispered, and he pulled away, dragging the tip of his index finger over their jaw.
Then he was following his mother and sister into the night, Hemersyn shutting the door behind them. The Avia engaged the locks, then cast Cya an appraising, slightly judgmental look.
“Don’t even,” they threatened.
He raised his hands in surrender. “I didn’t say a thing.”
“You didn’t have to,” they accused, and one feathered brow arched. “Stop it.”
“Goodnight, Cya,” he sighed the words like a lovesick fool, and their jaw dropped in affront. “Goodnight, Dex.”
“Hemersyn!”
“What? It was very sweet.”
“I will get you fired, old man,” Cya snarled, but the Avia simply laughed at the ceiling as he disappeared into the kitchen.