Hold On Tight (Take My Hand) (22 page)

Emily
and I stood holding each other, her head buried in my chest as I rocked us from
side to side. The scent of her hair and the feel of her tiny body pressed up
against mine sent excruciating pangs of pure fucking desperation straight to my
cock and when she looked up at me with a raised eyebrow, I knew immediately she
could feel it.

“I
wish you were coming home with me,” she whimpered against my chest.

“I
will be, doll. Soon. I promise.”

Just
not soon enough…

“Call
me later?”

“You
bet.”

Seeing
that the room was clear I pushed Emily against the clinically white wall behind
her and claimed her mouth with mine. Siding my tongue into the warmth and
sweetness of her parted lips, I kissed her like my life depended on it. I
tasted her like my taste buds were waking up from a thousand year coma and I
gripped her hair between my fingers like she would collapse and die in my arms
if I dared to let her go.

“I
love you, doll,” was all that was left to say. “So, so much.”

~Emily~

Six weeks later…

Sarah
received the
best
news yesterday. The Royal College
of Midwives have found her a placement and secured the relevant return to practice
training. She will be based in Manchester and Chris is helping out by searching
for small houses and flats available to rent while we’re still over here.

Exciting isn’t it?

In two months we really could be moving on. The thought fills me with an
abundance of thrill and nerves in equal measure. We’re all hoping Dexter will
be discharged from The Springs soon. He’s come so far and I’m so incredibly
proud of him the thought makes my chest literally ache. He’s been completely
clean since he stepped foot in rehab and it’s been two weeks since he thought
about wanting to use again.

The sessions that I’ve shared with him have never been anything less
than intense. I’ve been attending twice a week and Sarah goes once a week.
We’ve had a couple where all three of us have been there but I tended to let
Sarah and Dexter do most of the talking. We’ve all been brutally honest about
the things that concern us the most. Turns out every one of us has the same
fear… Dexter relapsing.

But Jeff is right. If we see that point in our future we’ll only ever
end up walking towards it. So he’s challenged us to plan a different future.
Somehow the New Life list Rachel devised for me before we headed off to Uni
together came into conversation one time and Jeff thinks it would be beneficial
for Dexter to do one too. Rachel would be so impressed a professional like Jeff
(not that he
acts
professional) backs
her idea. It’s a shame I can’t just call her and let her know - that I can’t
listen to her tell me she told me so, or that I’ve not ticked off enough boxes
on my own list then listen to the mountain of playful threats she would come up
with.

I miss her.

Sarah left for work an hour ago with an enthusiastic spring in her step
- she was handing her notice in at the greasy café today. Once she’d gone I
jumped in the shower (I miss long, indulging baths so badly, but Sarah’s
bathroom is so small the tiny shower barely fits as it is), got dried and
dressed and called Chris.

His old boss, Ernie, has reduced his hours to one day a week so Chris is
rushed off his feet handling his new business alone. He didn’t tell me,
presumably so I wouldn’t worry, but I could tell by the gruffness in his voice
the stress of it has been giving him migraines. He’s getting so many lately and
after badgering him every time I speak to him, he’s finally agreed to see a
doctor about them. I’m sure they can give him some kind of pill to either
prevent them or make them go away faster so I’m not overly concerned.

I’d just pressed play on the Glee playlist on my phone that was resting
in Sarah’s speaker dock and popped a cinnamon bagel in the toaster when I heard
a knock at the door. I hadn’t buzzed anyone in so naturally my heart rate
rocketed and my throat swelled up. We hadn’t heard from Martin or Patricia in
weeks but that didn’t mean we wouldn’t. Smoothing my hands over my pants to
brush off the bagel crumbs I edged tentatively towards the door.

A louder knock on my approach made me jump and without even thinking I
picked up the nearest ‘weapon’ I came to – a can of hairspray sitting on
the little wooden table by the couch. I stopped breathing as my fingers came
into contact with the door handle and then, clutching the hairspray to my chest
I warily opened the door.

Huh? There was no one there. Oh crap. Wasn’t this how every horror movie
started? When I went to close the door I just knew the foot of a killer was
going to jam it open before its owner took me down.

Stepping back cautiously, still not breathing, I held the hairspray out
wide in front of me with my finger hovering over the trigger. Then I slowly
attempted to close the door, and screamed until my lungs burned when the damn
thing got stuck.

“SURPRISE!” My eyes were squeezed tightly closed but some part of my
subconscious registered Dexter’s voice. But it was too late. The second the
door jammed my finger instinctively pressed down on the nozzle and sent a
hissing mist of hairspray directly into his face. “What the fuck, doll?” he
groaned, rubbing furiously at his eyes.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” I flustered, racing to the kitchen area to fetch
a wet cloth. “I thought you were a murderer or something!” After running a
clean cloth under the cold tap I started dabbing it over his face. He dropped
his hands by his sides, letting me tend to his stinging eyes.

“So what were you gonna do? Style me to death?”

“Funny,” I muttered contemptuously. But on reflection, I guess it was
pretty funny. “Stop pulling away!” I grumbled.

“It fucking hurts, doll!” Rolling my eyes I carried on dabbing around
his eyes which were getting redder by the second. Eventually, he braved
blinking and slowly but surely managed to open them all the way.

“What are you doing here?” I asked once the drama of my misplaced assault
had calmed down. At that point I was unsure whether to be excited or nervous.
He wouldn’t risk discharging him early and risk ballsing up the amazing
progress he’d made. Would he?

“Relax, doll. I’m not on the run I swear,” he teased, winking at me and
making my insides melt into a puddle of goo. “I arranged it with Jeff last
week. I’ll be going back in the morning. This is kind of a trial I guess. See
how I get on in the real world so to speak.”

“So you’re staying?” I asked eagerly. “Like
all
night?” There was only one problem right now… Dexter still had
his clothes on.

“What time does Aunt Sarah get back from work?” he asked with a wicked
glint in those captivating denim-blue eyes of his. I cocked my head to read the
time on the digital clock on the cooker.

“We’ve got about two hours.”

“So that’s one hundred and nineteen minutes until you need to put your
clothes back on,” he murmured seductively, popping the buttons on my black
shirt-dress.

Oh sweet baby Jesus my entire body was on fire already. Dexter hovered
his mouth over mine, the warmth of his breath sweeping over my face and making
my lips tremor. My mouth started watering as I eagerly awaited the taste of
him, but then he moved to my jaw and started laying soft, feather-light kisses
in a long trail down to my neck. Slipping my now unbuttoned shirt-dress from my
shoulders, he continued to spread kisses along my shoulder, over my collarbone
and then down to my chest.

He groaned against the flimsy fabric of my blue lace bra and I felt the
vibrations of it all the way down to my core.

“Oh my God, Dexter,” I whimpered desperately. I was literally shivering
with anticipation and it felt like if he ventured any further south I might
actually explode. Slowly he raised his head, locking his hungry eyes onto mine
and smiling devilishly. Then he took hold of my hand, brought it up to his lips
and grazed my knuckles with a kiss, before lowering it back down and settling
it on the front of his pants.

“You feel that, doll?” he growled into my neck. “That’s how much I’ve
missed you.” His erection was prominent, struggling against the coarse fabric
of his jeans. Removing his hand from mine he placed it on my bare waist before
sliding it around to my back and crawling his fingers up towards the clasp of
my bra. My own fingers began teasing open the zipper on his jeans of their own
accord and when I felt him spring free against my hand I buried my head into
his neck and let out a soft moan.

His expert fingers had my bra undone in a nanosecond and as the straps slid
gently down my arms he followed their trail with his gentle hands. I wrapped my
fingers around his thick length and slowly, teasingly I started working them up
and down. Oh God those rings… I’d missed those little beauties.

“I need your pants off. Now,” he growled into my ear before nipping my
earlobe with his teeth. His impatient fingers undid them for me and then he
tucked his thumbs around the waistband and tugged downwards, taking my knickers
with them. Oh my God I was standing stark naked in the middle of Sarah’s living
room and I had to try extremely hard not to obsess over the fact the door
wasn’t locked.

I opened my mouth to suggest we go to the bedroom but all that came out
was a sharp gasp when Dexter dropped to his knees and nuzzled his face in
between my legs.
Oh. My. God.
Putting
his hands, which felt scorching hot against my skin, on my inner thighs he
gently encouraged my legs to part. I felt a little nervous about the fact I
hadn’t showered in a couple of hours but not enough to stop him and he didn’t
seem to mind.

“You smell incredible, doll. I wonder if you taste just as good. Would
you like that? Would you like me to taste you?” Dexter has always made me tell
him what I want, what I
need
from
him. I was glad the fact we’d been apart for so long hadn’t changed that
because I would never have the courage to ask him on my own.

“Yes,” I breathed, my legs trembling so badly in anticipation I’m still
not sure how I managed to hold myself up. I felt his smile against my sensitive
flesh, his light stubble tickling between my aching thighs. He trailed soft
kisses along the very edges of my already moist folds, tormenting me…
torturing
me.

“Like this? Or do you want more?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what, doll?”

“Yes. I want mor-” He dipped his tongue inside me before I could finish
speaking. My legs buckled slightly from the sheer intensity but his hands were
beneath my bum and holding me up before I could fall. His tongue relentlessly
assaulted my most sensitive area, licking and circling me before using his lips
to suck on the throbbing little nub, which made me cry out his name.

“How is possible you taste even sweeter than I remember?” he groaned
into the flesh against my thigh, making it come alive with goosebumps.

“Get undressed, Dexter,” I begged gently. “I need to feel you too.”
After a final few flicks with his tongue, Dexter rose to his feet. His hands
only left my body to quickly remove his clothes and once he was free of them
they immediately found my flesh again, igniting wonderful sparks in their wake
as they glided across it.

Cupping my face in his hands he brought his mouth to mine. My lips
parted willingly after receiving a small nudge from his tongue. Our mouths
worked together – our tongues swirling and tasting each other in unison.
My naked breasts were pressed up against his chest and I could feel his heart
beating as rapidly as my own which only fuelled my desire. When he pulled away,
keeping his hands on my hips, he just stood there staring at me –
sweeping his eyes up and down the full length of my body.

I returned the gaze and my eyes devoured every bare inch of him. He was
my
Dexter again. When I first saw him in
hospital after the overdose he was so thin. His usually ripped muscles were
barely visible and his face was gaunt. Since entering the clinic however he’s
been hitting the gym twice a day and my God you can tell. My pulse throbbed
violently as I absorbed the sight of him. My eyes trailed down his body,
lingering on the perfectly formed lines of the muscles hugging his chest and
settling into a deep v around his hips.

He’s beautiful.

Taking hold of my hand and pulling gently, Dexter started leading me
across the room. I assumed we were heading to the bedroom until he went in the
wrong direction. He was taking me to the couch. With one arm around my waist he
lowered me onto the plush cushions. With one knee propped on the cushion next
to me, he hovered his glorious body over mine and buried his face in my neck.
He kissed and licked all the way down my collarbone until his mouth settled against
my breast.

I arched my chest into him as he drew a nipple into his mouth and
swirled around it with his tongue. Every time he pulled away a shot of cool air
washed over it making it harden even more. I’ve read about women being brought
to orgasm through nipple stimulation alone but I never believed it was true…
until now. I could feel it building – growing aching and heavy in the pit
of my belly.

Then he pulled away.

“Nuh uh, doll,” he breathed with a wicked smile. “I need to be inside
you when you fall apart. I need to feel you.” How the hell did he know? “Are
you still taking your pill?” I simply nodded, too breathless to speak actual
words. His grin grew so wide it almost touched his ears then he smoothed his
palm down my body, past my belly button and settled between my legs. Grabbing
my thighs, he pulled me into a lying position and spread my legs apart with his
knee as he prepared to climb on top.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern clouding his beautiful eyes when I pushed
him away with a flattened hand on his toned, heaving chest. Still unable to
respond with words I slid my body out from beneath his, grabbed onto his
shoulders and pushed him back so he was the one lying down. His already rapid
breathing became even more laboured when he cottoned on to what I was doing.

“
Doll
…” he murmured as if he
was going to stop me. Dexter always took control… he always gave me everything
I
needed.