More Than Ever

5

Dex didn't let me explain myself that night. He all but kicked me out of his apartment.

Somehow I managed to fall for a man-whore that didn't even want to do his man-whoring with me.

I felt inadequate. And I tried to convince myself that I had to date someone that wasn't so toxic for me. Perhaps I was just too hung up on a person that no longer existed - if he ever did exist.

Then I saw Dex on his usual bench on campus. Any thoughts of moving on with a new man flew out the window in that second.

In typical Dex fashion he wasn't alone. Today's flavor was a blonde. I could actually hear them before I even saw them. She was whining about wanting to go to his place.

"I don't bring sluts like you to my place. And I'm not interested in fucking you," he said, looking at his book as her hand advanced up his thigh. "Just go."

"But, sugar, remember how I made you feel..."

"I said..." his voice was raising as he finally looked at her and then he saw me a few feet away.

I wanted to run at this point. I wanted to turn and leave the area. But when I turned, my foot snagged on the brick walkway and my books tumbled to the ground. Papers were scattered and I was on my knees scrambling to get them together before they flew away.

"Irene," I heard from above me. I saw his feet in front of me and his shadow cast across my papers.

"Dex, I can't talk..." but then he was squatting down in front of me, forcing me to look in his eyes. He pick up a few sheets of loose paper.

"Tutoring tonight. My apartment," was all he said before handing me the paper, rising up and walking away.

Tutoring? Oh God, he didn't mean Econ. I'm not sure I'm ready to be at his mercy again. But I knew I would never deny him.

***

And if I didn't go, I wouldn't have to deny him, right? The idea that I would move past him had reformed in my head as I watched the clock that night, nervous and worried he would hate me.

I finally had enough worrying and was sitting on my bed in my sleep shirt. I had hidden my phone and was eating my feelings while watching a horror movie.

The banging on my door scared the crap out of me as the movie villain took another life. Who the hell has such bad timing?

I ran out to the door and opened with the chain still attached. "Irene," Dex snapped before I even saw his face. "Let me in."

I peaked between the door and the frame to gauge his level of anger. But I first noticed it was raining and he was drenched. His lips were blue and his eyes hard. Yes indeed, he was not happy. And that unhappiness was aimed directly at me.

I undid the lock and opened the door wide. He stepped inside and I backed up into the living room. "Where were you?" He asked, slamming the door behind him.

"I-I didn't think it was a g-good idea," I said. "I just think I need to move past..."

As I stepped back, he stepped forward, stalking toward me. "Move past?" He asked shaking his head. "No, Irene. I make the rules. I decide what is a good idea. I decide if and when anyone moves past! Not you. Me!"

He had walked me into the back wall of my apartment. I gulped. "Dex, you sh-shouldn't speak to me like this...I just f-figured after last time..."

"Yes, tell me what you figured, Irene," he said cutting me off and looking down at me. "You're the slut here, Irene. Practically begging me to fuck you. That means that you aren't going to figure anything. Understand?"

It was then that I realized he wasn't wearing his glasses. Had he removed them because of the rain?  Despite my better judgement, I couldn't help but admire this beautiful man in front of me. The one with dripping hair and hooded eyes. His lashes were impossibly long and framed such lovely green eyes. How did I never notice?

I lifted my fingers and brushed a few wet locks off his forehead, like I was trying to calm a wild horse. I trailed my finger down his cheek and jaw. He was the entire package: brains, looks, and well...package.

"Irene," he growled my name again. He seemed frustrated that I wasn't responding to his harsh words and demands. That I was gazing at him like a fool. So instead of agreeing, I decided to talk about my concerns.

"Don't you worry that I won't want to leave you when you have used me up?  That I will follow you around like a love-sick puppy. That I will cry and rant and bang down your door. Aren't you at all concerned that I will be addicted to you?" I asked as I admired his face and damp skin. "I am. Worried, that is."

"Irene," he snarled again grabbing my hand to still my movements. "I'm counting on it."

One minute I'm engrossed in his features, the next his lips are plundering mine. It was like I had always dreamed, but better. Rougher. More demanding. It was a taking - a claiming of what was always his in the first place.

The hand he took from his face, was now against the wall near my head. His body was pressed against mine. His other hand lifted my thigh and hooked it on his hip. Since I was only in a shirt and panties, I could feel the wet denim along my inner thigh.

My free hand was on the back of his neck, encouraging him to stay on my lips. We would stop for short breaths, but would continue with more urgency - as though we realized in our separation that we needed more, longer, harder.

Once our lips began to bruise, Dex let go of my hand and thigh. He stepped back with his eyes on me. It was almost like he was in a haze - torn between what he wanted and what was offered. 

"Dex?" I was getting worried. Was the magic broken?  Did I do something wrong?

"Bedroom," was all he said. It was as though he was trying to hold himself together. Perhaps hold himself back.

I looked to my open bedroom door, then back at Dex.

He grabbed my wrist and simply said "come" as he pulled me toward the room. I easily followed behind him.

He cleared off my discarded snacks and pulled back the comforter. "In," he said with a head tilt to my bed.

I'm sure I looked confused. But I got into bed. His near silence was louder than any shout or yell I'd heard.

Dex turned off the light and then I heard him remove his wet clothing. The bed tilted a bit and then I felt the heat radiate from his body. His scent that was purely masculine was now filling my lungs and the room.

"Dex?" I said, clearly hoping for an explanation.

"Irene," he responded, my name a soft caress. "I'm staying the night. We will discuss this more in the morning. There is a lot we need to talk about."

"Okay," I said and rolled to face the ceiling. "Dex?"

"Yes," he said on a sigh as though he couldn't continue to speak.

"I'm sorry I didn't come over," I apologized in almost a whisper.

"You won't do it again," he grumbled.

I stayed quiet. He likely was right.

"Irene," he seemed frustrated. "If you do it again, I'm going to punish you."

"Punish me?" Like how?

"Yes," he said into the darkness. "We will discuss tomorrow. But I won't have you disobey me. As I said, I make the rules here."

I nodded in the dark, knowing he couldn't see or hear me. When was my inner feminist going to roar and battle this man?  When will I have enough of his bossy and degrading bullshit?  I needed a line in the sand. But I just couldn't bring myself to drawing it.