Then there was nothing.

I waited a few minutes on the other side of the door, waiting to see if Dex said anything else but that was a negative. There was only some rustling and creaking as he moved around the room.

Well. Okay. Wiping off my what-the-hell expression, I opened the door casually. Dex was sitting on the edge of the bed when I came out, stripped down to his boxers and yawning with his mouth wide open. Totally comfortable. Completely relaxed like he hadn't just gotten into an argument with my brother.

Once again, Charles Dexter Locke, with his solid, bulging six pack, full ink sleeves, pierced ni**les, and the darn cutest tattooed red octopus, was sitting there nearly naked.

My mouth fluttered wordlessly.

Would this ever get old? I sure as heck hoped not.

"You're so hot." The statement was out of my mouth before I could withhold it.

Now, the smile that crept over his tired, still yawning features, was absolutely not withheld. He leaned back on his hands, watching me with those tired eyes. "Come here," he murmured.

Like I was going to hesitate when I had the chance to stand so close to him and all that glorious warm skin. I stopped between his widespread legs.

Dex sat up, gripping the back of my thighs loosely before starting a trail up over the curve of my ass, beneath the thin and stretched out material of my sweater. It was second nature to still wear long-sleeved stuff, regardless of whether he knew about my arm or not. Luckily, he didn't point it out as his hot hands circled most of my waist, his thumbs making these tiny circles just above my belly button ring. My shirt bunched over his arms.

"Seen a lot of things in my life—"

Don't vomit, Iris.

By a lot of things, he didn't necessarily mean people.

Okay, who am I kidding, he probably did.

I wasn't going to puke. I wasn't.

"But you," his nostrils flared, "my sweet, sweet baby, have gotta be my favorite by far. I think you win first through one-hundredth place." His head dipped forward to bite at the loose cotton draped over his forearms. He slowly edged the material up with his teeth and tongue until he finagled his head beneath my sweatshirt, a solid lump above my tummy.

The tip of his tongue tapped the stud of my belly button ring briefly. His breath warmed the skin above it before he pressed his lips to the same spot, damp and gentle. Dex touched his tongue to the same place, more of a wet kiss than a lick.

"Smell so good," he murmured as his hands kneaded my hips, making me arch into him.

Looking down at him, with his face up my shirt, kissing and licking at me, I didn't think there was anything hotter in the world.

Dex kissed each side of my ribs with slow, chaste pecks. "Wish I wasn't so tired," he said, tongue tracing a line up my stomach.

Oh boy.

That wet, raspy tip stopped right between my br**sts. I could see his head turn to the right, brushing a small line on the underside of my breast. His lips latched on to that inside swell, sucking it gently. Holy friggin' crap. He switched his mouth over to the other little globe and did the same.

I made noises that weren't entirely human as heat bloomed at my core.

And that's when he pulled his head out from under my shirt, planting one last quick kiss on my piercing. "Gotta shower, babe."

I choked. Was he serious?

My expression must have conveyed the what-the-friggin'-hell look on my face because he smothered a laugh by pressing his lips to my now-clothed hip. "I'm so damn tired. You don't need to stay up if you don't wanna," he said, coming to stand with his hands still beneath my shirt.

Dex flashed me another tired grin, kissing the top of my head right before he side-stepped me with a smack to my ass.

"Get some sleep," he said as if that was even an option when it felt like Niagara Falls was between my legs.

By the time I realized that he wasn't kidding, leaving me there standing like a complete moron, he'd already turned on the shower.

That dick.

I climbed into bed trying my best not to think about Dex's pleasured face the night before—all loose and relaxed with happiness mixed in there. Which then got me not thinking of how he'd looked days before that with his mouth...

Stop it.

The bed was surprisingly a lot more comfortable than my bed at Sonny's, and definitely way more than Dex's couch. I wasn't surprised when I fell asleep almost immediately after putting my head on the pillow.

And it felt like I'd barely done that when I was rolled onto my stomach, my cheek against the sheets. Warm lips and cool air tickled my spine. Two sets of fingers swept over my shoulder blades, down the twin sections of my back.

I was still half asleep as his forearm slipped between my belly and the mattress. His mouth traced over the notches of my spine. Warmth curled from the nape of my neck down to my tail bone, and instinctively, I arched my back like a cat into his touch.

Blinking sleepily, I noticed it was pitch black in the room. We must have only been asleep for a few hours at the most. The only noise came from the low hum of the air conditioner against the wall and the creaking of the bed under Dex's shifting weight as he inched his way down the mattress, arm still locked around me.

"Not tired anymore?" I whispered the question in a hoarse voice.

His low chuckle filled the room, tongue swirling a circle at the lowest point of my back. "All I needed was a little nap," he breathed right before nipping my butt cheek.

Oh man.

I may have stretched into a deeper arch, which earned me another nip on the other cheek.

Dex's free hand cupped my bottom, his long fingers spanning from the crease to nearly my hip. "This ass..." he groaned, kissing each cheek simultaneously. "Do I gotta thank all that time you spend swimmin' for it or your ma, that you got blessed with it?"

I wiggled my butt a little. "I don't know."

There was no warning for the hard crush of his arm hiking my h*ps up high before the tip of his tongue streaked its way down my cleft, slipping into my slit with a wet thrust.

Holy crap. Holy times a million craps.

Dex's flat tongue licked over my seam, once, twice—not enough—careful and controlled when he'd make a quick detour to dip his pointed tongue inside.

Dead, dead, dead. He was going to kill me with his mouth. And his lips.

Oh lord, especially his lips when he started sucking gently on the each soft fold.

Mother. Blooming. Heavenonearth.

I probably should have been embarrassed by the cries and the moans that wormed their way out of my throat as I tried to push my h*ps back against him. My cheek was still flat on the mattress, fingers curled into the hotel room's bed sheets, and it must have been the lack of vision that heightened every wet touch, every low little groan he made of approval when he'd slip his tongue where I wanted—needed—something bigger.

Almost as if he'd read my mind, his hand gave my ass a little squeeze before I choked out a cry in time with the deep press of long fingers inching into my channel, replacing that brutal, raspy tongue. Dex's mouth kissed my cheeks, fingers sinking deep in me. Curling. Moving in and out as I whined into the bed.

"Perfect, baby. So f**kin' perfect..." I barely heard him pant into the skin of my bottom.

I was so wet I could feel it. Hear it. The sloppy sounds of his fingers going in and out of me, making me desperate for that tingle that had blossomed in my lower stomach the moment he'd rolled me onto my stomach.