Chapter 23 High Tide
Chapter twenty-three
High Tide
The knocking didn’t just wake me up; it insulted me.
It was a heavy, relentless thud that vibrated through the mattress and settled right behind my eyes.
I groaned, dragging a pillow over my head, but the sound was persistent.
My mouth tasted like copper and lime juice—a parting gift from the three hours I’d spent at the swim-up bar trying to drown the memory of Stella’s voice and the sight of Dex playing paramedic to Amina.
I’d come back to the villa, scrubbed the chlorine and the jungle off my skin until it was red, and collapsed. Now, I was caught in that thick, post-tequila fog where your body feels like lead and your heart feels like an open wound.
"Go away," I croaked into the silk sheets.
The knocking didn't stop.
"Nel, I’m serious. If you don't get away from this door, we’re gonna have a real problem."
Silence for a heartbeat. Then, "Nique. Open the door."
My heart did a traitorous little stutter-step. It wasn't Nel. It was the one voice I had been trying to scrub from my brain since I’d walked away from that cenote.
I sat up, the room tilting on its axis. I waited for my head to stop spinning.
Suddenly I felt too hot and the silk of my leopard-print spaghetti strap gown was sticking to my skin.
It was barely long enough to cover the essentials, and I didn't have a stitch of anything on underneath it, but I didn't care.
I wasn't in the mood to be modest. I was in the mood to be left alone.
I stumbled to the door and yanked it open, the sudden rush of bright afternoon light making me squint.
Dex was standing there, still in his clothes from the excursion, looking like he’d been through a war.
His eyes were drained and his shoulders slumped.
He looked at me, and I watched his gaze drop, taking in the way the silk hung off my body, before snapping back up to my eyes.
For a second, his expression shifted from tired to hungry, but I wasn't giving him an inch.
"Nique," he breathed, reaching out like he wanted to touch my shoulder.
I stepped back before his fingers could even graze me, the anger flaring up and burning through the last of my haze.
"You got the wrong villa, Dexter," I said, my voice rasping. "The princess in distress is on the other side of the resort. I’m sure she’s waiting on you to go rub her foot or whatever else she’s got you doing today."
"Can I just come in for a second? Let's just talk—"
"Talk about what?" I leaned against the doorframe, the hem of my gown riding up, but I didn't pull it down.
I just crossed my arms over my chest and stared him down.
"Talk about how you hopped into that van without a second thought? Talk about how I’m supposed to just sit here and wait while you play family with a woman who hates my guts? "
I looked him up and down, the hurt finally winning out over the anger. "I’m tired, Dex. I’m tired of being second to your baby mama. I’m tired of being the one left standing on the curb while you drive off to save her. Go back to her. That’s clearly where your loyalty is."
Dex didn’t even react. His gaze dropped instead, slow and deliberate, tracing the way my silk gown had slid up while I was too busy checking him. Before I could catch it, he reached out and eased the hem back down, his fingers grazing my thigh just long enough to make it feel intentional.
“I know you mad,” he said, his voice low and rough, the kind that settled deep and made my toes press into the tile. “But it’s hard to pay attention when that pretty pussy keep peeking at me.”
I felt the heat rush to my face, but it wasn't the good kind. I shoved his hand away, pushing against his chest with everything I had.
“That’s all you think about is sex!” I snapped. “You think you can just show up here, say something slick, and I’m supposed to melt in your arms.”
Dex let out a tired laugh, shaking his head as he stepped into my space, forcing me to back up into the room. “Nique, be for real with yourself. I’ve been swatting you off me for days. If I wanted that pussy, I could have been had it. Don't act like I’m the one chasing.”
The air left my lungs for a second. The audacity was at an all-time high. “Oh, so now you don’t want it? Let me guess, Amina already got you right. She probably had you doing more than just rubbing her ankle in that clinic, didn't she?”
“Woman, get your mad ass out the way and let me in,” he muttered, pushing past me like he owned the place. “I’m tired, I’m sweaty, and I’m ready to shower and lay down.”
“Well, go to your own room for that!” I yelled, spinning around to face his back.
“My bag is in yours,” he reminded me without looking back.
I glanced over at the corner where his duffel was sitting, mocking me. I let out a frustrated growl, kicking the door shut with my heel. “Fine. Get your stuff and get out.”
But Dex wasn't reaching for his bag.
I watched, my mouth hanging open, as he started peeling his shirt off right there in the middle of the room.
He didn't say a word as his swim trunks hit the floor, leaving him standing there completely, unapologetically naked.
He looked like a masterpiece carved out of mahogany, but I was too busy cussing him out to appreciate the view.
“You are so fucking disrespectful! You think you can just come in here and—Dexter! I am talking to you!”
He didn't even turn around. He just walked straight into the bathroom and turned the water on. I followed him, standing in the doorway and shouting over the sound of the spray, listing every single reason why he was a sorry excuse for a man.
“And you can take your shit and go back to that raggedy ass bitch—"
Before I could finish, Dex reached out a wet arm, grabbed me by the waist, and hauled me into the open shower area. The heavy rain-head spray hit me instantly, drenching the silk gown and pinning it to my skin .
“Dex!” I shrieked, hitting his chest as the water blinded me for a second. “What is wrong with you?”
He didn't say a word. He just hooked his hand behind my neck, tilted my head back against the stone, and slammed his mouth onto mine. It wasn't a gentle, ‘I’m sorry’ kind of kiss. It was possessive. It was hungry. It was just the thing to get me to shut up.
The anger was still there, buzzing under my skin, but as his tongue slipped past my teeth and his hands found the curve of my ass, the hurt started to melt into lust. I tried to keep my hands balled into fists against his chest, but within seconds, my fingers were uncurling, sliding up to grip his wet shoulders as the steam rose around us, blurring everything, but the man holding me like he’d never let go again.
"I’m tired of talking, Nique," he rasped, his voice vibrating through my chest. "I’m tired of explaining myself to a woman who already knows where my heart is at."
"You left me on the curb, Dex," I whispered, the fight leaving me as his hands slid under the hem of that wet silk, finding skin.
"I went to handle a responsibility so I could come back here and be the man you need," he growled, pinning my wrists against the stone wall above my head. "Now stop talking about Amina. Stop talking about everything else. Just look at me."
I looked, and in the dim light of the shower, with the water slicking his skin and his eyes dark with a promise he was finally ready to keep, I knew I was in trouble. The gown was already sliding off one shoulder, and I didn't do a thing to stop it.
The garment barely made it to the floor before Dex had his hands under my thighs, hoisting me up like I weighed nothing.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, my back hitting the cool stone as he guided me down.
When he slid inside, it was so smooth, so deep, my body gave him a reaction before my mind could catch up.
This position gave him total control and gave me nowhere to hide. It was driving me crazy, the friction of the water and the heat of him merging into one blur of sensation.
“Dexter... ohhh,” I whimpered, my head thumping back against the wall. I hoped the neighboring villas couldn't hear me, but at this point, I was too far gone to care.
“Yeah, scream that shit,” he growled, his hands gripping my hips so hard his fingerprints were going to be a permanent part of my skin.
He started a rhythm that was brutal and precise, slamming into me with a hunger that had been building for a while.
“I got to put this dick in you just to get you to stop bitching, huh? That’s what it takes to shut you up? ”
I couldn’t even form a comeback. I just moaned, my fingers digging into his wet shoulders, my nails leaving crescents in his skin.
“I’m tired of your fucking mouth,” he muttered as he increased the pace, his eyes locked onto mine. “Stop fucking playing with me, Dominique. You know what this is.”
The roughness was the catalyst. I felt the first wave hit me instantly, my muscles tightening around him as I came, the pleasure so sharp tears pricked my eyes.
The orgasm was soul shattering in a way that made me understand why I had spent years running from him.
This was why I was jealous of Amina, sick at the thought of her ever feeling this power, and terrified that I was finally falling victim to it again.
“Look at you,” Dex rasped, feeling my body vibrate against his. “This pussy pouring already. This what you wanted, bae? This why you been acting up all week?”
“Dex, please,” I moaned, my head lolling back as the steam rose around us.
“Please what?” he asked, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.
“My legs... they’re weak,” I whispered.
“Shut the fuck up,” he said, but the words were wrapped in a dark heat.
He lowered me back to the floor, my feet hitting the wet stone for only a second before he flipped me around.
He bent me over slightly, my palms pressing into the rough wall for support, and entered me from behind in one deep, punishing stroke.