Page 28 of Dibs
Deacon looks overwhelmed by Hans’ generosity, and they shake hands while Deacon expresses his gratitude.
We stay out on the lake until the stars twinkle above us, not a cloud in the sky, reminding us how we’re both nothing and everything. Deacon reaches over and entwines his fingers with mine as I lie flat on the bench seat and stare up. A shooting star zaps across the night sky, and Deacon whispers, “Make a wish.”
But I have everything I need, so I steal a suitable answer from beauty pageant queens and passionately wish for world peace, or at least peace within myself. That’s where peace really starts, anyway. And it feels like I’m close to it, as the dark blues and grays of the night sky paint a perfect canvas from which the stars shine endlessly, burning a million times more powerfully than fire, some alive, some dead, all stunning no matter the phase. I sigh in wonder.
We stay up too late on the boat, eating snacks Hans brought and drinking the Chardonnay his wife had left downstairs on their last trip together.
When Deacon and I walk back to the truck, his free hand slides into mine, and he doesn’t drop it until he opens the passenger door for me and gently closes it behind me.
My heart feels cracked open in the best way—like it’s almost ready to let love in, though fear persists.
That night, I can’t sleep, so I knock lightly on Deacon’s door and ask, “Are you still up?” in a low tone.
“Sorta,” comes his muffled answer. “You okay?” His head pops up from beneath a pillow, his hair standing on end. I fight the urge to laugh.
“I’m okay, just can’t fall asleep. And your house is full of new noises,” I confess, stepping into his room. Into the quiet darkness, I add, “Can I sleep next to you?”
I worry he’ll say no, but he simply holds up the covers and whispers, “Climb in, babe.”
So, I curl up on my side near Deacon, who lies shirtless in basketball shorts beside me.
“Closer,” I whisper.
He inches nearer.
“Closer,” I whisper again.
“Just come here, woman.” Deacon throws his arm out to the side and then wraps it around me, yanking me near as I lay my cheek on his warm, well-muscled chest. When my hand rests on his abdomen, my fingers tremble a bit, nervous being so close to the man I’ve called my bestie for so many years.
“I can hear your anxiety from here,” Deacon tells me. “Just feel up my abs. It’s fine. I know you wanna.”
He makes me laugh, and my fingers drift around his hard stomach, discovering those lovely dips between muscles I’d only seen with my eyes until now. Deacon lightly groans as I slide my hand back up to his pec and back down to his stomach. I trace his hip bone, noting the V-shape of his musculature, every touch awakening something in me that had been sleeping for some time.
I breathe heavier, unsure if this was the best idea. In the guest room, I hadn’t been able to shut my brain off, and I was still so dazzled from our night out on the boat with Hans that I couldn’t calm myself down. Being in such close proximity to Deacon only speeds my heart rate and sends my stomach lurching.
“Shh,” Deac whispers against my ear. “Relax. It’s just you and me, Beck.”
And I eventually do relax and fade into a dreamless sleep, waking up before the alarm the next morning, all tangled up in Deacon. He’s spooning me from behind with an arm beneath my neck that I’m using for a pillow, his other arm draped around my waist. His top leg has captured both of my legs beneath it. And truth be told? It’s the most secure I’ve felt in ages, his bodyagainst mine, his breath steady in my ear. I try not to move a muscle, though my ear feels like it has fallen asleep from resting on his bicep.
I move just enough that Deacon stirs and groans, “Mmm,” from behind me. My nightshirt has crept up beneath my breasts, leaving my belly and panties exposed. His hand moves to my stomach and rests there warmly, as he sighs and shifts to get closer in his sleep.
Only now, I can feel his morning erection pressing against my ass, and I know one thing I didn’t before: he’s incredibly well-endowed. I fight to ignore those thoughts as I wiggle to free myself, fruitlessly, feeling Deacon move even closer in his sleep.
“Well, this is awkward,” I whisper beneath my breath.Or is it exactly where you belong, Aspyn?I raise a good point, so I let sleep capture me again despite my ear throbbing with pins and needles. When I awake again, we’re mostly in the same position, except Deacon’s hand has risen and he’s cupping one of my breasts.
A groan tears from my lips as he moves restlessly against me, still hard, still pressed against my ass. It’s a sensory experience unlike any other. My heart beats a crescendo in my chest as Deacon snores in my ear. The hitch in my breath tells me I don’t exactly mind the situation, and when his fingers move just slightly, they graze my nipple, which pebbles under his touch. I ache, and I must arch my back because my ass pushes closer to his hardness.
You didn’t sleep with Sean the last three months of your relationship.
My sex drive reminds me that I’m horribly unfulfilled as I moan softly and circle my hips back against Deacon, something wild inside me taking over as my sleepy body reacts to his. I take slow breaths in my nose and out my mouth to try to calm thelonging, but I feel somehow empty, and I’m dying to be filled with Deacon.
No. Don’t ruin your friendship. Don’t complicate things. Things are too wonderful as they are to change anything now.
Deacon’s hand moves down my belly and rests at the top of my panties, and he murmurs something low in his throat. He’s got to be awake by now. The question is, do I care?
I gasp at the way my clit throbs at his nearness.
“Morning,” he whispers, inching even closer to me.
