Hold On Tight (Take My Hand) (2 page)

Not that she will this time, because
I’m in complete control. I just need a little – hardly any really –
to get me through what’s turning out to be a rough few weeks. It’s the only
thing that I know will calm me down enough to stop me running. I’ve promised
Emily, and I’m gonna try so freakin’ hard to keep that promise.

Placing my foot in front of the door to
prevent it being opened (the lock’s been bust for forever), I carefully tipped
a little (seriously, hardly any at all) blow onto the marble counter underneath
the tarnished mirrored cabinets before teasing it into a neat line with a
credit card from my wallet. I didn’t have any bills on me so I had to bend
right down, pressing my nostril against the cool marble and then snorting it
from bottom to top and then back again to make sure I’d got it all.

Rubbing at my nose to calm the slight
sting, I instantly felt calmer. Not buzzed, or hyper – just… calm. You
see? That’s why I only need a little. I’m not doing it to get off my face or
forget all my problems - I’m just using it to help me keep on top of my
emotions until all this shit’s blown over. That’s what’s different this time.
That’s why I’m in control.

Feeling relaxed enough to face the
people I love most in the world downstairs, I tucked the half-empty baggie back
under the tile, wiped down the counter with a wet hand-towel and splashed some
reviving water over my face before patting it dry. When I approached the last
few steps of the stairs I could hear jumbled whispers coming from the living
room. I couldn’t hear what was being said but it didn’t take a genius to know
they were discussing me.

“Dexter?” Aunt Sarah asked carefully,
appearing in the doorway when I reached the last step. “Are you alright?”

It’s weird how when you think the
iron-ball of guilt tied around your neck can’t get any heavier… somehow it
always manages to. My father’s visit had affected everyone in this room, but I
was the only one selfish enough to want to run away. Yet here were these two
amazing women, needing to make sure
I
was
okay.

“This isn’t about me,” I answered.
“This house is
yours
, sweet cheeks. I
won’t let
him
take it from you. I
swear I won’t.” My determination was back with a vengeance and in that moment I
knew
I was strong enough to defeat
him this time – even if I wasn’t quite sure how just yet.

“This isn’t just your fight, honey.
We’re in this together,” Aunt Sarah replied with a concerned look clouding her
face. “I don’t want you taking on too much.”

“I’m not gonna break. You need to quit
worrying about me.”

“Dex,” she mollified. “I will worry
about you until the day I draw my last breath. You’re like a son to me. You
know that.” Just then, that wretched guilt suspended from my neck weighed me
down a tiny bit further. I’m gonna be flat on my face in no time if that keeps
up.

“What’s that smell?” I quizzed, sniffing
exaggeratedly towards the kitchen, trying to steer the conversation in a
different – less uncomfortable - direction.

“That’s dinner,” Emily beamed with a
proud grin. “I’m making shepherd’s pie.”

“Smells great huh?” Aunt Sarah beamed.
I’d never tasted shepherd’s pie but I’d heard a lot about it since moving to
the UK.

“Sure does. I didn’t know you could
cook?”

“I’m a woman of many talents,” Emily
replied impishly.

“That you are, doll,” I agreed with a
wicked wink.

“Ugh. If you two are going to start
gushing over each other I’m going upstairs. It’s been a heck of a day. I think
I’ll lie down for a while. Shout if you need me,” Aunt Sarah said with an
overstated eye-roll before turning towards the stairs. Emily giggled but
amazingly didn’t blush. Then I held my arms out for her and sighed contentedly
when she fell willingly into them.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,
doll,” I whispered into her soft, red hair.

“Good job you’ll never have to find
out.”

We stayed that way, embraced in each
other’s arms and swaying peacefully from side-to-side for a good ten minutes or
so. But then my stomach growled, interrupting the stillness.

“Time to get back in the kitchen,
wench,” I teased, slapping her on the ass and forcing a delightfully carefree
squeal to erupt from her throat. “Your man needs his supper.”

Walking backwards into the kitchen,
purposely denying my palm access to her behind, she saluted me playfully.

“Yes, sir!”

~Emily~

It
was Christmas Eve and we
hadn’t heard from Dexter’s father again. Though I don’t think any of us were
naïve enough to believe it would stay that way. Still, together we made a vow
to enjoy the three days of Christmas and refuse to so much as think of him
throughout. We all agreed, yet sometimes I found the image of his face popping
unwillingly into my mind as I pondered what the future was going to bring.

“Tired, doll?” Dexter
asked, twirling a lock of my hair around his finger as I lay across his lap. It
was almost midnight and I couldn’t stop yawning.

“Mmhmm,” was all I could
muster.

“Well don’t you dare go to
sleep,” Sarah ordered teasingly. I shook my head weakly, blinking repeatedly to
stop my eyes from closing – because I knew if they did, they wouldn’t
open again.

During her first Christmas
as Dexter’s full-time guardian, Sarah set up a tradition where they had to pull
a cracker and make a wish bang on midnight Christmas Eve. Apparently it was
something her own family used to do when she and Deborah, Dexter’s mum, were
little girls. That is why I was forcing myself to stay awake, despite my
eyelids feeling like they were made from lead-weights.

“Why’d you move to
England?” I asked through a yawn. “Why not just move states?” It was a question
I’d thought about before and now seemed like the perfect time to bring it up,
if for no other reason than talking about it would keep me awake.

“You
wishin
’
I hadn’t?” Dexter teased, feigning a hurt expression.

“You know I don’t. It’s
just so far away… so far from Sarah.”

“
Downton
Abbey.”

“Eh?”

“I’d been thinking of
leaving for a while. Then
Downton
Abbey was playing
in the background one night,” he paused and cocked his head towards Sarah, “she
loves that shit.”

“Um, anything with Dan
Stevens in it is
not
shit,” Sarah
interrupted with a firm scowl.

“Oh please, sweet cheeks…
you’re old enough to be his mom. Anyway, I thought ‘England – why not?’
Then I remembered my mom telling me stories about the Queen when I was a boy.
After tucking the blankets up under my chin at night she would sit on the end of
the bed. She would tell me about this country we would visit one day where
there were palaces, princes and princesses and a giant clock…

I started arranging study
permits and looking into flights the very next morning. I’d made my decision
and I stuck to it. It was the
best
decision
I ever made,” he said, never taking his eyes off mine. Funny how my eyes had
forgotten how tired they were all of a sudden. Too busy being captivated by
Dexter’s love-filled gaze, they didn’t want to close anymore.

“Ten… nine… eight…” Sarah
began counting down along with the second hand on the pendulum clock above the
TV. Dexter and I joined in and when the hand struck midnight we all shouted out
in unison…

“Merry Christmas!”

Picking up our crackers,
Dexter and I went first before Dexter went again with Sarah. Obviously our
wishes had to remain a secret but I’m guessing we all wished for the same thing
– for Martin Michaels to leave us the hell alone.

“Aww, you got a pen!” I
whined as I eyed up Dexter’s cracker prize. I got a screwdriver so small only a
Barbie doll could put it to use.

“You jealous, doll?”

“Yeah! A pen is useful…
what the hell am I supposed to do with this?” I complained jokingly, waving my
mini screwdriver in the air.

“Merry Christmas, doll,”
Dexter said, placing his pen in my hand and closing my fingers around it. I
couldn’t help the delighted smile that crawled across my face. “What’d you get,
sweet cheeks?” I adored how he called his Aunt ‘sweet cheeks’ – with pure
adoration dripping from his gentle voice. Apparently she used to call him that
when he was a boy. It seems unbelievable now that not so long ago I thought he
might be cheating on me when I heard him say that to someone down the phone.

“A tiny deck of cards,”
Sarah answered, unpicking the cellophane encompassing the little cardboard box
with her fingernail. “Wanna play poker?”

“I wouldn’t know where to
begin,” I admitted, my words almost getting swallowed by the gigantic yawn I
produced.

“That’s a crime,” Dexter
said. “Everyone should know how to play poker. We’ll teach you tomorrow. After
lunch,” he added. I bit my bottom lip, feeling quite sure his attempts would be
futile. I remember Chris trying to teach me with a couple of friends years ago.
The whole concept was lost on me then, and I can only presume it will be the
same tomorrow. “But now – bed.”

Thank the lord…

“Good idea,” Sarah joined
in. “I’ll have to be up early to get that turkey in the oven.” She got up
wearily from the couch before bending down to me, then Dexter and kissing us on
top of our heads. “Goodnight, kids,” she said warmly, turning for the stairs.

“Night, Sarah.”

“G’night, sweet cheeks.”

Dexter and I were showered
and in bed just twenty minutes later. Even though we’d towelled ourselves dry
our skin was still a little damp and I giggled when I tried to move my head off
his chest and I stuck to him.

“I won’t miss this bed
when we leave,” Dexter grumbled, shifting his position slightly in an effort to
get comfortable. It was a little on the hard side, with more lumps and bumps than
a gravelled pathway. This was the guest room so Dexter hadn’t slept in here
before we got here.

“We should try your old
room tomorrow,” I suggested.

“There’s only a single bed
in there, doll. You know that.”

“Well maybe,” I began,
trailing my fingertip along his broad chest and smiling suggestively, “I’ll
just have to lie on top of you.”

“Like this?” Dexter
teased, grinning wickedly as he pushed me onto my back and rolled himself on
top of me.

“Just like that,” I
breathed, my words a quaking whisper as I tried to anticipate his next move.
Dexter ran his tongue across my lips but as I parted them to let him in, he
lowered his head to my neck and inhaled deeply.

“You smell fucking
delicious, doll.” He kissed and licked along the throbbing vein in my neck,
gradually inching downwards until his face was nuzzling the dip between my
breasts.

With one hand caressing my
collarbone as his tongue played with my now-hard nipple, his other wandered
down the side of my body, tickling my waist as he made his way down to the spot
that was aching so badly for his touch. When his fingers glided torturously
slowly along the damp folds I almost catapulted from the bed. I wanted him so
painfully desperately.

And he knew it.

“Please, Dexter,” I
whimpered, arching my hips to meet his skilled fingers.

“Please what, doll?” he
murmured into my breasts.

“You know what,” I
breathed – the frustration becoming agonising. “I need you.”

“You need me to what?” he
taunted further. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.”

His hot, moist tongue
swept across my chest before paying some attention to my other nipple. I chewed
on my bottom lip to stop me from moaning too loudly while I continued to grind
myself against his slick fingers. Without warning he thrust one inside me and I
cried out in both unexpected pleasure, and also pain from biting my lip too
firmly.

“Please…” I mouthed. “Oh
god, please…”

“Say it, doll,” he growled
against my aching breasts. “Tell me what you want from me,” he demanded.
Swallowing forcefully before licking my dry lips, I reached down and took his
face in my hands – raising his head so I could look into his denim-blue
eyes.

“I want you inside me,
Dexter. I
need
you to make love to me.
Please…” I begged. His eyes beamed brighter as he grinned devilishly at me and
my insides quivered at the knowledge he was going to give me what I wanted.

Shifting his position so
his raging erection was nudging at my eager entrance, with those tickling metal
rings tormenting me and making me writhe, he propped himself up on one elbow
while he kneaded my breasts with his free hand. Then he slipped inside me
slowly… teasingly… perfectly.

“See?” he groaned softly.
“You only had to ask.”

Closing my eyes, I lost
myself in the sensation. My hips instinctively rocked against his while my
fingers clawed at the defined muscles hugging his shoulder blades. He burrowed
his face in my neck and nibbled and licked along the sensitive flesh as he
continued to slide into me deliciously slowly. Then, when I wrapped my legs
around his waist he let out a throaty groan against my ear which vibrated
throughout my entire body and sent an invigorating warmth charging through my
veins.

“Look at me, doll,” Dexter
ordered gently. Peeling my eyes open, his nose was against mine. Still propped
above me on one elbow he tucked one hand behind my head and pulled my lips to
meet his. My fingers found their way into his shaggy brown hair, still damp
from his shower, and tugged roughly at the smooth strands.

His tongue teased the
edges of my lips, silently begging for permission to explore, and this time
when my lips parted he didn’t pull away. Instead he dipped his hungry tongue
inside, entwining it with mine as he licked and tasted every corner of my
mouth. His closeness stifled my moans as he started working faster and harder
inside me, but then, just as I started to build… just as I began to feel the
warning ripples of an intense orgasm… Dexter pulled abruptly out of me, making
me gasp.

“Turn over,” he growled
through clenched teeth. My heart-rate increased to a trillion miles per hour in
anticipation. This was new. Dexter always made me
ask
for what I wanted. But this time, he was taking over… he was
taking what
he
wanted from me and I
was overcome with nervous excitement.

Doing as I was told, I
rolled hesitantly over onto my belly.

“Crawl up onto your knees
for me, doll.” Swallowing forcefully, I did just that. Then his hands gripped
my hips and he pulled my bum into the air, positioning it against his hardness
before gliding it back and forth against me but making no attempt to go inside.

“Christ, doll, if you
could see what I can see right now…” he trailed off. My first instinct was to
feel embarrassed about the view in front of him – seeing me so… exposed
and vulnerable. But the more I thought about it, when more ‘mmm’ sounds
starting leaking from his throat… I felt nothing but desire. My body trembled
as I became desperate to feel him inside me and my fingers clawed at the plump white
pillows above my head.

“Oh… god…” I breathed as
he continued to stroke me with his erection.

“Tell me what you want,
doll.”

“I want you to do what
you
want,” I replied breathlessly. A soft
laugh tumbled from his mouth and then immediately, he slammed harshly into me.

“Well I want to fuck you,
doll. Hard.” Oh dear god I had never felt so turned on in my life. He wasn’t
lying. Dexter drove into me hard and fast over and over again – stealing
my breath away as I clenched and pulsated around him. “You like it like this,
doll? You. Like. It.
Hard
?” he
growled, thrusting deeply inside me in between words.

“Y-yes,” I answered
shakily. And did I ever… he felt so much deeper this way. As he pounded me
relentlessly I arched my bum so I was pressing impossibly further into him and
with each plunge he hit a sensitive part of me I didn’t even know existed,
leaving me almost crying in ecstasy.

“What about this?” I
didn’t think it was possible but somehow he picked up his pace and assaulted me
with unknown depths of pleasure – his heavy balls slapped against the
underside of my bum cheeks and his hands gripped my hips so firmly it began to
smart… but I didn’t care.

“Yes!” I screamed into a
pillow in an attempt to mask the whimpers escaping involuntarily from my mouth.
“Please, Dexter. Oh, god, please….”

“Please what, doll?”

“Harder. I need it harder.
I’m almost there.” I felt no shame as I made my demands. I was too hungry
– too desperate to relieve the violently throbbing ache between my legs.

“Ah, fuck, doll…. When you
talk like that? Ah… fuck I love you…”

“I-I…” The seams were
fraying… I was falling apart… “L-love you…” I bit hard onto the pillow under my
chin to hide the screams of my orgasm. “Too,” I mouthed silently – my
body quivering as Dexter slammed into me one last time. Then with a cry and a
judder his body stilled behind mine and his warm, erratic breaths caressed the
skin of my back as he laid his head between my shoulder blades. “I love you
too,” I repeated – coherently this time.

Breathing harshly, my
quaking legs gave way beneath me and I collapsed onto my belly. Dexter
followed, though more gently than I, and rested his body on top of mine as he
panted in my ear.