The tip of his nose drew a line from my forehead to my temple. "Don't do that shit to me again," he pleaded. "Swear to me, Ritz. Tell me you won't drop some shit like that on me again."

His tone. Christ. The tremble in his voice pulled at the threads of tissues in my spine.

My body started shaking. "I swear."

Dex's hands went for my ribs, kneading the skin and bones. "You'll tell me if you start to feel bad? Anything, babe. Any time you start to feel sick, you swear you'll say somethin'?"

I didn't know where this was all coming from. His need for me to tell him something so simple, but I could feel the tension under his skin. He wouldn't take anything but yes from me. Dex wouldn't accept anything less than a promise. "I swear."

He nodded so slowly it seemed painful for him. The breath that left his mouth was a wisp and a flutter, shaky and emotional. “I’ll put you on the insurance plan first chance I get tomorrow. It ain’t that great but I’ll see if I can get you a better policy. You know, in case...” he trailed off, nostrils flaring, face tight.

It made every blood cell in my body redirect itself to my heart, filling it with so much blood, so much life-giving sustenance, that I thought it was going to burst out in a bloody explosion. I wanted to tell him right then everything. About my surgeries, about the timeline of my loved ones' lives, about the sacrifices made that had shaped the outcome of my life.

Tell him everything that had led me here. To him.

But instead of remembering how to string along the twenty-six letters in an alphabet that suddenly didn't seem so important, I tipped my mouth up to brush my lips against his. He let out a long, shuddering exhale that wafted across my mouth, dragging me in deeper to the vortex that was Dex Locke.

To have this man care about me, not just a little bit, but enough that it tipped the axis of his temperament, calmed me. It was an anchoring acknowledgment. Because I cared about him too and I wished in that moment that I would have had the opportunities to show him that I felt the same way. But all I'd done was keep things from him.

Just like I kept things from Sonny. My beloved half-brother that was so mad he hung up on me—not that I could blame him but still.

I didn't want to push people that I loved and valued away because I made decisions that were well-meaning but stupid.

"I'm sorry," I whispered just a millimeter from those firm, full lips that graced his beautiful mouth. "I don't want to keep things from you, but it's a bad habit to break." I kissed his top lip for just a moment, closing my eyes as the reality of what my bullshit could lead me to set in.  "Please don't give up on me, I won't do it again."

Two large hands cupped my cheeks. "Iris," he purred in that silky voice that made me lose my breath all over again. "I already told you I don't give up what's mine." Dex kissed my bottom lip like I'd done his. "Ever."

It was me who closed the distance between us, pressing my mouth to his. The kiss was sweet and slow. His mouth opened mine with a gradual slide of his tongue, hot and insistent.

I palmed the flat, muscled plane of his pectorals. The heel of one of my hands rested just above one of his ringed nipples.

We kissed and kissed like there was no rush in the world. There was no nipping like there had been in his bed, no teeth, or roughness. So when his hands swept their way down my throat, over my collarbones to land directly over the neckline of my tank top, I didn't hesitate when his fingers curled into the material. He pulled it down with a light ripping sound, bringing my bra cups along with it.

I must have made a startled noise that told Dex I was on the verge of freaking out because he didn't let me. He pulled his mouth away from mine and immediately dipped down to draw a nipple into his mouth with a soft suck. Those highly capable fingers shoved the bottom hem of my shirt up to a tight bunch beneath my breasts.

How the hell had I gone my entire life without this?

I couldn't think, I couldn't move, I couldn't do a damn thing but moan and arch myself against his suckling. Holy moly. The draws and pulls were too good, way too friggin’ good. He moved his mouth over to lick at the other peak and I swear my nervous system shut down.

In no time, he'd pushed me to lay against the back of the couch, his hands holding my ribs as he hovered his lips and tongue over the vulnerable place between my rib cage. "Goddamn, baby."

Slow, slow, slow he went, ghosting those hot lips and hotter breath down the center of my stomach before stopping at my bellybutton. Dex licked the gold jewelry before sweeping his tongue in a circle around my navel, making me squirm and arch beneath him.

I made some kind of noise that was mostly a moan but had a squeal mixed into it.

"You know this is the first piercing I've done in three years?" He rimmed the piercing with the tip of his tongue again.

I didn't even know the fifth letter in the alphabet in that moment.

Dex replaced his mouth with his nose, making the contact even more intimate for some reason before humming low. "All this sweet skin just for me." He kissed right below my belly button. His fingers slipped into the band of my khaki pants. In a quick move, he undid their button and slid a hand inside over the cotton of my underwear.

Ohmigod!

"Dex!" I gasped and sat up, pulling Dex to me in a hard kiss that was all warm tongue and soft lips.

He moaned and slipped his hand deeper into my pants, his fingertips resting over the start of my slit.

We kissed and kissed and kissed. Dex laid me against the back of the couch, his mouth was possessive, nipping my lips while his fingers redrew soft lines over my underwear. His mouth went straight to my neck, biting the column just hard enough to make me cry out once.

"Fuck, baby," he whispered against my throat. "So sorry." Then he bit me again just a little to the left of where he'd done it before, this time pressing the flat of his tongue against the skin as he did it.

Holy crap, I was going to die.

I tilted my chin back to give him more room and smiled like a drunk prostitute. "You're not sorry."

Dex chuckled. "No, I'm really not."

I didn't realize my hips were wriggling beneath him, searching for his weight. My legs spread to let Dex's slim hips between them. And my hands...they'd managed to work their way beneath the black t-shirt that stretched over Dex's form. His skin was smooth and firm. The defined muscles contracted under my touch. His belly button tensed and his abs contracted as I spread my fingers wide, touching as much of him as I possibly could.

The fingers over my underwear slid a little lower, dipping beneath the band to outline one of my bare lips with a single finger. He ran it up and down just once before groaning.

Should I be embarrassed? Maybe. More than likely, but I wasn't. Not even a little bit.

Dex pulled away again, sitting straight up on his knees. In a quick move, he pulled his t-shirt over his head, and then went for my pants and underwear tugging both down my legs. He tossed them over his shoulder when he was done, shooting me a smile that was more reassuring and pleased than smug.

He grabbed the back of my knees and pulled me forward so that I was on the edge of the couch. His gaze was direct and intense. He looked down at me, my legs just slightly spread, my breasts hanging out of my bra and shirt. And I just laid there, a big pile of need and want. That big hand slid from my knee, making a slow trek across the inside of my thigh, his knee, his palm going up, up—holy crap—over the outlined ridge of his jeans inches from the apex of my thighs.