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, Aminaalready 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.