“Okay. I will.”
We snuggled on the couch for a while and then I yawned. Traveling always knocked me out to begin with, plus I wasn’t sleeping well at night lately. My back was leaning against Dex’s front, and he brushed some hair off of my face after my yawn. “You’re tired. You should get some sleep.”
“I am tired. That glass of wine was like a sleeping pill on top of my already sleepy head. Plus, my neck hurts from stress and lying flat always helps that, too. I think it’s time for bed.”
“I’ll let you get some rest, then.”
I turned to face him with my brow furrowed. “You’re not staying over?”
“Do you want me to stay over?”
“Of course, I do.”
Dex let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad. Because it’s been hell without you the last few nights.”
Inside my bedroom, I changed into my usual tank and boy shorts, and Dex stripped to his boxers. While he slipped under the covers, I sat on the edge of my bed and took out some moisturizer from my nightstand to rub into my arms. After rubbing the lotion into one arm, Dex sat up and took it from my hands. “Here, let me.”
The room was quiet, and the intimacy between us blossomed as he massaged the lotion into the skin on my arms. While I had just applied it enough to seep into my skin, Dex was giving me more of a massage. When his strong fingers worked their way up to my shoulder, I closed my eyes and let him rub away some of the stress.
“God, that feels so good.”
“You’re very tense, and your neck hurts. Why don’t I use the lotion and rub your shoulders for a bit.”
“I’d love that.”
Dex sat up with his back against my headboard and positioned me between his legs. He gently nudged my head forward to drop toward my chest and scooped my hair to one side. Then his hands disappeared for a moment, and seconds later a dollop of icy moisturizer hit my skin.
“That’s cold.”
“I could provide some warm cream if you prefer?” Dex’s tone was playful, but at the same time it was also husky, and I heard the need in his voice.
“You’re such a pig.”
He chuckled and he massaged my neck. “As long as I’m being a pig, I might as well admit that I have a recurring fantasy about rubbing a certain warm cream into this beautiful skin.”
His fingers worked on a knot at the apex of my shoulder where it met my neck. Loosening it, my head dropped down a little lower. “Oh yeah? And where exactly would you be rubbing this cream?”
Dex’s fingers slowed. “You really want me to tell you?”
“Of course.”
His fingers came to a complete stop, and his voice was low as he leaned forward to whisper. His warm breath tickled my neck. “Sometimes when I’m in the shower, I envision myself coming all over your tits and rubbing it in.”
When I didn’t immediately respond, Dex must have taken that as a sign that what he’d told me made me uncomfortable. Which it did, but not the kind of uncomfortable he was thinking. The discomfort was from the growing swell that ached between my legs.
“Should I have kept that to myself?” he asked.
I swallowed and whispered, “No. Actually. Tell me more.”
“You want to hear more about how I fantasize about you?”
“I do.”
Dex was quiet for a moment and then his fingers began to rub again. “I think of you lying on your back, your hands squeezing those beautiful tits together while I straddle your chest and slip my cock between them.”
I wiggled between his legs and felt his hard-on up against my ass. “You want to know what I think about when I fantasize about you?”
“I’d empty my bank account and sign over my penthouse to hear you tell me your fantasies right now.”
I chuckled. “Well, it starts with you opening …” My deviant, fictional adventure was put on hold when Dex’s cell phone started to ring.
“Ignore it,” he said. Go on.”
“But…it’s sort of late. Almost ten o’clock. Don’t you want to even see who it is?”
His response came so fast it made me laugh. “No.” After a few more rings the cell phone quieted. Dex prompted me to continue. “So…where were you? What am I opening? The door? My pants? Your pants? A bag? Handcuffs? Don’t leave me hanging here.”
I giggled. “Okay. Well, I had this one sort of daydream where you open…” As if on cue, Dex’s cell phone started to ring again. The damn thing was vibrating and jumping around on the end table.
“Maybe you should get that.”
“No.”
“At least see who it is.”
Begrudgingly, Dex reached for his phone. He stared at the screen for a ring before speaking. “It’s my father’s wife, Myra.”
“Aren’t they in the Caribbean? Why would she be calling? And so late?”
Dex swiped and brought the phone to his ear with a huff. I listened to one side of the conversation. His body immediately stiffened.
“What happened?”
“When?”
“Where is he?”
My heart sank waiting to find out the details, but it was clear whatever it was, was not good. After he hung up, Dex immediately got up from the bed and started pacing back and forth. I was almost afraid to ask.
“What happened?”
“My father. He had a massive heart attack.”
“Oh my God. Is he…”
“He’s in CCU. He’s alive but hasn’t woken up yet.”
“In Turks?”
“It happened on a plane. Apparently, he hadn’t been feeling well, and they decided to come home early so he could see his doctor. Happened a few minutes before they were landing in Florida tonight.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Dex ran his fingers through his hair. “I need to go down there. First flight in the morning.”
“I’ll go with you.”
He looked at me. “You sure?”
“I want to be there for you.”
After a few heartbeats, he nodded. Then he proceeded to pick up the phone and call the airline. While he barked into the phone, I put away the moisturizer he’d been massaging me with and went to the kitchen to get a drink of water.
Standing at the kitchen counter, it dawned on me for the first time…I was about to meet my biological father.
Maybe.
I needed wine instead.
Dex was quiet the entire flight down to Florida. He’d spoken to Myra first thing this morning while we were headed to the airport and found out that his father needed a triple bypass, along with a valve replacement. His heart was weak after the massive heart attack, but they couldn’t waste time because of the ninety-nine percent blockage. Surgery was scheduled for this afternoon.
When we arrived at Good Samaritan Medical Center, Dex already knew the room number so we breezed right past the line at the patient information desk and followed the signs for the elevator. It wasn’t until the doors closed that I had really given any thought to what my showing up might do to Dex Sr. Up until then, I’d been only focusing on wanting to support Dex.