Page 51 of No Place Like You

Dexter

The harsh vibrationfrom my phone buzzing on the coffee table jolts me awake. But when I try to sit up, I realize my arm is pinned down. I start to tug at it when I see it’s Lucy who has my arm pinned against the couch cushions. Her head is resting on my bicep, where her hair is fanned over her cheek. She nuzzles closer to me, making me lie back down and abandon getting up all together. I stretch my free arm toward my phone where it’s still buzzing and circling a little dance on the hard surface, flicking it closer to me with my fingertips.

“Hello?” I croak.

“Dexter,” Charles calls from the other end. “Did you get some sleep?”

“Uh, yeah. A few hours, I think.” I peek down at Lucy, and she hums a sweet sigh against my chest. “What time is it?”

“Just after eleven.”

Shit.I didn’t mean to sleep in this late. It was supposed to be just a quick power nap so I could get back to the hospital as early as possible. I even forgot to set an alarm. When the reason for my brief oversight starts toshift beside me, my body softens. I sigh through a smile and watch the way Lucy’s lashes flutter and her lips twitch. What’s a few stolen moments with the woman I’m slowly falling for and a couple of extra hours of sleep? We both needed the rest anyway.

“I’m getting up right now. I’m going to head over to the hospital in a bit,” I say in a hushed voice, hoping I don’t sound too suspicious to Charles. I brush my cheek against Lucy’s forehead before giving into the urge to press a kiss to her temple.

“I’m here now. Janet wanted a few things from home, so I’m going to head back out after lunch,” he explains. “I’ll only be an hour or two, but I was thinking maybe you could keep her company while I’m gone.”

“Yeah, of course. Just give me a minute to shower, and I’ll head right over.”

“Great, thanks.”

I hang up and chuck my phone back onto the coffee table. When the clack of my phone rattles through the room, Lucy jolts awake.

“Sorry.”

She rubs her eyes and lifts her head. “What time is it?”

“Eleven. It’s still pretty early considering we didn’t get to sleep till after seven,” I answer.

She shakes her head, looking a little disoriented, and slumps back into my arms. “Were you talking to Janet?”

“Charles. He was wondering if I could come to the hospital so I can keep Janet company while he runs back home to get a few things.”

She nods against my chest and smooths her hand along my stomach before tucking it under my back. “I don’t want to get up yet,” she murmurs into my shirt.

I chuckle. “Then stay here. I’ll be back.”

She shakes her head and mumbles a muffled “mmhh” into my side. She grips my waist harder and tightens her hold on me. I smooth away the haircovering her face, and she peeps an eye in my direction. “I’ll go with you. I just need a minute to get up,” she says through a yawn at the same time my fingers curl around her nape. “I mean, if you want me to come with you, that is,” she adds in a whisper. She looks up at me with her round eyes, and my thumb runs across her skin in a back-and-forth motion.

I nod. “Yeah, I want you to come with me.”

“Okay,” she says so softly, I feel like I imagine it.

She looks so beautiful, it’s disarming, with her cheeks a little flushed from my own warmth to the faint sleep lines running across the side of her forehead. It’s almost enough to tempt me into spooning against her and staying on this couch for the rest of the day.

Her chin tips up toward me, and I duck my head down to her. We freeze, and our faces sit no more than an inch away from each other. I can feel her pulse thread under my fingertips, and a shallow sigh slips through her parted lips while her fingers lift the hem of my shirt and run sweeping strokes against my hip.

“Would you hate me if I kissed you right now?”

She shakes her head. My thumb tugs at her chin, and her mouth slacks open further. No resistance, no qualms or misgivings suggesting she doesn’t want this to happen. Her feathery lashes fan against her cheek, and her tongue pokes out to run along the bottom curve of her lip.

My fingers rake into her hair. I shudder a loose, shaky breath, and I feel like I can hear my heart thumping in my chest, all the way up to my ears, like an angry mallet hitting a drum.

“Please kiss me,” she pleads. And any hint of a doubt, any possibility of this being a bad decision, is wiped out from under me. Like a fucking rug.

My lips meet hers, and we mold like two puzzle pieces sitting side by side. I didn’t think it was possible, but my heart beats harder, faster, making me breathless. Our hands start to move. To her waist, to my back, to her barethighs, to my cheek. And we grip each other as if touching and feeling were our newest forms of sustenance.

I press off the couch to lift myself and hover over her, making her sink into the plush cushions under us. I dip into the space she’s hollowed out for me between her legs and part them wider with my thigh. Her knees bend at the same time her skirt falls back, and the heels of her feet frantically scrape against my lower back. My hand grips her waist and travels higher and higher, until my thumb tucks into the bottom band of her bra and grazes against the rounded underswell of her breast.

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