Chapter 17 The Pull
Chapter seventeen
The Pull
What was supposed to be karaoke was more like shots and shit talking, but it was cool with me because I needed the laughs and the distraction.
I had done my best to be cordial with Stella at dinner for Nel’s sake.
After the court mess, once I got settled at his place, I found out he wanted to rekindle with her because he kept having dreams that she died.
He said the scenario was always different.
Sometimes she was sick, another time she got shot, but each time he woke up feeling horrible because he hadn’t tried to forgive her or get to know her.
It made me think about how I would feel if Stella died.
Even the thought didn’t sit right, so I was trying.
Now that the old heads had turned in for the night the air in the lobby felt lighter. More dangerous.
“Man, them showers are perfect for fucking,” Kam drunkenly blurted out, sinking back into the plush velvet sofa. “Too bad this resort is full of family.”
“That’s why we picked this place,” London said, tucked into the crook of Eli’s arm. “They cater to your entire wedding party exclusively. It’s nice, right?”
“It’s nice, but Kam I disagree,” a very drunk Paris admitted, waving her glass around. “We did it earlier and Ky kept telling me I was too loud.”
The room went silent for a beat before erupting.
“So that’s what that noise was!” Nicole hollered, and we all lost it.
I was almost past my limit and super giggly but even through the rum haze I noticed Dex was missing from the room. I felt a warm body settle onto the arm of my chair. I almost got excited thinking it was him but looked up to find Brandon instead, looking entirely too comfortable in my space.
“You just all in my personal space huh?” I laughed, leaning into the flirtation anyway.
“You look and smell too good for me to stay away,” he said.
I was about to respond when I heard my name cut through the noise.
“Dominique.” It was stern like a father
I turned and saw Dex coming through the lobby with a bottle of water and a small packet in his hand, his eyes already locked on me with that quiet intensity that made the rest of the room feel like background noise. I stood up before I even made a conscious decision to.
Sure Brandon was fine, but Dex had a pull that wasn’t fair. Rich dark skin, tall, built like he was designed specifically to make women lose their good sense. He had muscles that made me want to dare him to pick me up even though I already knew he could.
He wrapped a possessive arm around my waist and pulled me flush against him, letting our family and friends and mostly Brandon know exactly what type of time he was on this weekend.
“Awww shit, here they go,” Kam said.
“Don’t be weak in the knees cousin, stand up,” Paris groaned.
I ignored them both. I watched as Dex used his teeth to tear open the packet, which up close I could see was Tylenol.
“Open your mouth,” he said, and my mind immediately went somewhere it had no business going given where we were standing.
My drinks had me wide open. If he had asked me anything else right then I probably would have agreed to it.
Luckily he just placed the pills on my tongue, then tilted the water bottle to my lips and held it there like I was a baby he was taking care of.
“So you won’t regret all those drinks in the morning,” he said quietly.
Behind me I heard Brandon let out a low easy laugh. He knew he’d just lost but was trying to play it cool like it wasn’t a big deal.
“These two still act like nobody else is in the room when Nique ain’t beefing with him,” Kyson said.
“She’s just drunk,” Paris said. “Tomorrow she’ll be ready to fight him again.”
Dex looked up at them finally. “I thought y’all were supposed to be singing. Why y’all worried about what we doing?”
London popped up like she’d been waiting for permission. “You right, I’ll kick us off.” She grabbed the mic and scrolled through the song selection.
I stayed tucked against Dex’s side, his body heat grounding me even as the room tilted slightly at the edges.
London let out a little squeal and I already knew she’d found a Beyoncé song. When Dance for You started pulsing through the speakers I was immediately hyped. Sadly London sounded like a dying crow trying to reach those notes but she was my cousin and I was riding with her regardless.
I played my part as backup, hitting the soft yes notes, my voice thick with libations and something I wasn’t ready to name out loud. I pulled out my phone to record her but by the time the chorus hit the camera was pointing at the floor because I had bent over and started slow winding against Dex.
The friction made my head swim. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me upright, his breath warm against my neck.
“Save that for my eyes only,” he said low in my ear.
He was being strict tonight and it was doing something to me.
I didn’t bend back over but I didn’t stop moving either.
I kept winding my hips, feeling the growing weight of his erection against me, letting the music lead while I sang the parts of the song that hit closest to home.
When the lyrics about other women being superficial came up I sang them with everything I had, letting the vibration go straight into his chest. I wanted him to remember, right here in front of everyone and especially after that airport entrance, that I was the one.
“I hear you baby,” he said, his lips grazing my earlobe before pressing a slow deliberate kiss there.
By the time London finished and the room erupted in drunken applause my whole body was running hot and the man had barely touched me. I turned in his arms, hands sliding up his chest, and found his eyes already waiting.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice roughened by the same tension sitting heavy between us.
“I’m fine,” I whispered, my eyes dropping to his mouth. “But I think I’m done with karaoke.”
“Aight, let’s go,” he said, already moving.
“Where the hell y’all going?” Paris shouted over Nicole’s performance of Boo’d Up.
“To sleep. I’ll see y’all at breakfast,” I called back without turning around.
Dex took my hand, his grip firm and unhurried as he led me out of the neon light and onto the path toward the villas. The shift was immediate. One moment it was noise and laughter and the next it was just the sound of our footsteps on the stone.
"How you feeling?" he asked once we were alone on the path. "I know it was probably tough, seeing your mom."
That comment was like water to a flame. The sexual tension evaporated, replaced by a sudden, sharp ache in my chest I’d been shoving down since the appetizers.
"“I’m alright,” I said, trying to keep my voice level. “I’ll grin and bear it. Once this trip is over she goes back to Atlanta and I go back to Mobile and it’ll probably be another five years before I see her again.”
“Is that how you want it?” he asked.
The question stripped me down to something raw.
Because no. That wasn’t what I wanted at all. I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to ask her why Nel and I were never enough to stay for but Whitley and Deuce were worth everything. I usually had a PhD in hiding hurt behind anger but tonight the alcohol had gotten to it first.
I started crying before I could stop it. Ugly, loud, body shaking sobbing right there on the path. The kind of crying that doesn’t care where you are or who might hear.
“Come here baby,” Dex said. He didn’t hesitate. He used the key on his wrist to swipe into the villa we were standing in front of and I felt immediate relief when I realized it was his.
He pulled me inside and shut the door behind us. The room was dim and smelled like sea salt and his cologne. Before I could catch my breath he pulled me into his chest and held me there, letting me ruin his linen shirt with mascara and grief.
“Let it out,” he said, his hands moving in slow circles on my back. “I’ve got you.”
I stood there in his arms and tried to reconcile the man holding me with the one I had spent years keeping at a distance.
This wasn’t the Dex I had built my walls against. That Dex was reckless and careless with the people who loved him.
This one had shown up at a jail at two in the morning.
This one had sat in a courtroom for me. This one was standing in Mexico holding me together while I fell apart over a woman who had nothing to do with him.
The line between gratitude and desire got very thin very fast.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand, reached up, and kissed him. He kissed me back for one long unguarded second before his hands came down and gently caught my wrists.
“You gotta chill,” he said against my mouth.
“Why?” I tried to pull free.
He held my wrists against his chest, steady, so I could feel his heart knocking hard and fast under my palms.
“Because you’re drunk and you’re hurting,” he said, his voice dropping into that low protective register. “Both times we did this you woke up regretting it and I don’t want that for us anymore.”
I looked up at him, my eyes still blurry. “Who said I’d regret it?”
“You did. Every single time,” he said, his thumb tracing slow across the back of my hand. “I want you to want me Nique. Not just something to drown out the sound of Stella’s voice.”
Hearing her name snapped something shut in me. The vulnerability disappeared and the wall came up fast and familiar.
I stepped back. “Move so I can go to my room.”
“Why you always gotta be mean?” he asked, not moving an inch.
“You think I’m stupid?” I asked, the alcohol fueling a sudden, irrational fire. “You probably already fucked Amina and don’t have any stamina left for me.”
Dex let out a dry, dark laugh. He didn’t even bother arguing; he just looked down, pointedly indicating the hard, thick ridge straining against the fabric of his shorts.
“You don’t believe that bullshit at all,” he said, his eyes locking onto mine with a terrifying level of clarity. “Plus, if you even thought I touched Amina, you wouldn’t be trying to fuck me right now. I know you better than that.”
The truth of it stung. “Move, Dex,” I said, and the tears were back, hot and messy.
“Chill your emotional ass out,” he muttered, though his touch was anything but harsh. “Let me grab my bag and we can head to your villa.”
I blinked, my brain struggling to keep up with the shift. “Why you gotta grab your bag to head to my villa?”
“Cause I’m spending the night with you,” he said, his tone as casual as if he were talking about the weather.
“So... we are going to fuck?” I asked, the hope and the horniness winning out over the grief.
“No,” he said firmly. “We're gonna cuddle and go to sleep.”
“That’s not fun!” I actually stomped my foot, feeling every bit like a drunk, petulant toddler.
Dex just grinned at me, that slow, devastating smirk that always made my heart skip. “Get used to it, cause when we get married, it’s gonna be a few nights you don’t get no dick. A nigga be tired after work most days.”
I stood completely still and watched him move around the room like he hadn’t just said what he said.
When we get married.
Like it was already decided. Like it was just a matter of logistics and time and me finally getting out of my own way.
I stood there in the dim light of his villa in Tulum, mascara down my face and rum in my veins, wondering how long he had been carrying that certainty around while I was busy building walls against it.