On the Edge (The Grange Complex Book 1)

Chapter 31



Chapter 31

Sasha

He let me in and I went straight to the kitchen, wanting to see it for myself. All the containers were

gone. He’d even gotten rid of the weed and whisky. He started opening the cupboards and drawers,

showing me that there was nothing in them.

All right, so he was sticking to his medications, but drugs and buzz were just the tip of the iceberg.

Depression didn’t just go away; it fed on a person, waiting for that one unexpected moment to strike

back. I couldn’t just jump back into a relationship. We both needed more time, and if he wanted me,

then he needed to show me that he wasn’t throwing out any empty words.

“Dexter, that’s great you’re not going back to your old ways, but–”

“Hold on; that’s not all. I need to show you something else.”

I followed him to the table. He typed something into his laptop. His elbow brushed over my stomach,

accidentally, but I felt tingles running over the base of my spine.

“All right, so what do you want me to see?” I asked, feeling warm all of a sudden. All the windows were

shut and it was humid outside. He winked at me and typed something else on the address bar. I leaned

over when a new page popped up. It took me a few seconds to realise that I was staring at a support

group website for people who suffered with bipolar disorder. My mouth opened, but no sound came out.

I was shocked, not quite believing that he would join something like that.

When I glanced at Dexter, he was watching me with nervousness in his eyes, like he was afraid that I

would take his honesty the wrong way. Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

“What is this, Dex? What does this mean?”

“I’m going to go to this support group meeting. Sticking to meds is easy, but that asshole Bishop said

that I could have relapses. I don’t want to screw this up.”

The emotions that started floating back to me were dangerous. I didn’t want him to see that I was

moved. Dexter Tyndall and a support group. This was the last thing that I thought he would do. All this

time, he didn’t want to let me in, pretending that it wasn’t a big deal when he saved Joey’s life. I didn’t

want to believe that he would sit in a circle of other people discussing his private life. A warm tingle

began crawling its way to my heart. Shit, I wasn’t expecting it. Dexter was trying hard, probably

because of me.

“Have you got the date of the meeting set yet?”

We were standing so close to each other. Sweat broke out on the nape of my neck, and a slow burn

spread across the skin on my breasts. My knickers clung to my wet pussy, building a familiar desire

deep in my core. I was always so weak around him, but now it was torture, because I loved him. It was

a bad idea, coming here. It made me realise that I needed to feel him inside me again, that I wanted

him to devour my mouth.

“Barbie, I want you to come with me. You know how much I can’t stand being around people, but I want

to be clean for you.”

Tears forced their way to my eyes, but I didn’t let him see that these words melted my heart. We were

discussing the possibility of being there for one to another, not the possibility of spending life together

forever. The reality hit me like cold rain on a humid summer day.

“Come here, you knob,” I said and brought him closer to me, needing to satisfy that craving for

closeness. I didn’t want him to see through me, to sense that I had developed deep sincere feelings for

him, and now he was wrecking me from the inside out. There were endless possibilities, many other

men, but Dexter was the first one that restored the idea that I could be loved again.

He didn’t waste much time; he wrapped his arms around my waist and started brushing my neck gently

with his lips, barely even touching it. He was too much; this whole thing was too much. My resistance

against him, the steel fence around my heart began melting, like ice in Hawaii.

“Argh, fuck it,” I rasped, bringing his lips down to mine quickly. I needed to taste him again, feel him

heat the blood in my veins. Dexter’s hands were in my hair, his lips tasting, caressing mine. I moaned

into his mouth, rubbing my thighs over each other. I was soaking wet, throbbing between my legs. He

cradled me closer to his lean body and grabbed my hand, directing it down to his impressive erection. I

imagined him making love to me this time, rubbing my clit while I was on top of him. I knew that I had

lost this battle when he grabbed my hips and sat me on the table, spreading my legs apart.

“This is fucking happening,” he stated and claimed my neck with his mouth, moulding my breasts at the

same time.

I moaned when his forefinger caressed my hard nipples, as he rubbed himself over my sex. I shut my

eyes, arching my neck back, ready to forget about my own promises and resolutions. Dexter took off

his T-shirt and pulled my trousers and knickers down, plunging his fingers inside me. I cried out with

pleasure and the need for more. I didn’t know where I was and what was happening, but I loved it.

“All mine again,” he growled. I bit his shoulder, feeling that I was going to come apart when I heard the

tiny voice of sweet surrender, as well as the voice of reason.

“No, Dexter, we can’t do this. I’m sorry, it’s too soon,” I rasped out, pushing him away. He pulled back,

breathing hard. His eyes were crazy hot. I tried to fix my hair, buttoning up my shirt. The desperate

throbbing was so freaking uncomfortable. It was going to take me countless hours of masturbation to

forget about him.

Dexter exhaled sharply. His massive erection was popping out of his trousers, and a slap would have

been a great reminder that we were still working on this whole “fucked-up relationship.”

“Told ya, Barbie. You can’t help yourself, can you? You want me so much.” He chuckled, leaned over

and blew air into my cleavage. “I could motorboat these bad boys all day long if you would let me.”

Bastard, he knew how to get to me with that dirty talk. I never thought that I had it in me, but I liked

rough sex.

“It was a moment of weakness, Dex,” I said, trying to laugh it off. “I’ll happily go to that meeting with

you. Just let me know when and where.”

I kept my eyes steady on his eyes, not on his perfect, sweaty, muscular chest.

“And you’re coming with me to have dinner at my mother’s this Sunday,” he prompted, handing me a

glass of water.

“What? Your mother’s? Why?” I asked.

“Because I want you to be there. It’s part of the plan, you know—to show you that I’m deadly fucking

serious about us.”

He was annoyed now, and yet again, I was stunned. I needed to remember that Dexter was still himself

and I needed to keep him on a short leash. This whole thing with sex was going to be very difficult,

because I wanted him badly, but the desire for him was what got me into trouble in the first place.

Dexter

This woman was going to fucking give me a heart attack. She needed to see that I was taking my

illness seriously. The whole thing with the support group went better than I expected and I even had a

chance to grip her superb toned body against mine. That was a bonus, but then she panicked and

pushed me away. I dropped her at her home a few hours later, waiting for some news from Ronny, but

he had nothing. It looked like, apart from the initial charge for assault and ABH, Sasha’s ex was clean. I

was getting anxious, but Ronny hadn’t given up yet. I offered him more money and he asked me to give

him a few more weeks. He had to reach out to his connections. Ronny was working on it and that was

the main thing.

“I have news,” Sasha said when I picked her up on Saturday night, a week from our heated-up meeting

in my apartment. I made a mental note that if I wanted to make her fall in love with me, I had to make a

huge fucking effort, which meant going out on dinner dates, the cinema, romantic walks and all that

bullshit. I missed sex more than I thought I would, but Sasha’s pussy was worth the wait. Sasha was

still wary of the new me, so who knew how long it would be?

Last week had been long and frustrating. I took her out almost every evening and I was getting agitated

in the bigger crowds of people. We chatted, had dinner, and then I would drop her off. She knew how

much I hated this whole dating thing, but she was testing me to see if I was good enough for her. Now I

was beginning to understand why there were so many problems with women and relationships. People

had too many expectations.

For a whole week I couldn’t touch her, kiss her or even slide my finger into her. She was driving me

fucking insane with these stupid rules; I was going to die of blue balls. Sasha was a terrible liar, and I

knew that she wanted me too. Sometimes I could smell her desire heavy in the air when we sat close

together; it was a complete turn-on. She allowed me to tease her, so I took advantage of that wherever

I could.

“I bet your pussy is so wet that it can’t wait for my cock,” I said when she got into my car on Friday

evening.

She rolled her eyes and when she was fastening her seatbelt, I took the time to check out her rack. We

were made for each other. I kept talking dirty to her and she kept showing up wearing low-cut tops and

short dresses. I knew exactly what she was doing, driving me to an early grave.

“I went for an interview the other day and I had a phone call today. They offered me a permanent full-

time position in the Royal Infirmary hospital in Edinburgh,” she explained, beaming.

“In that case, I’m taking you out. We need to celebrate it.”

New job, new flat—she was really starting over. I didn’t want her to live in the city; I wanted her with me

in the complex, but we weren’t even a proper couple, thanks to my fuck-up from a few weeks ago.

Besides, I wanted her to see her ex being punished, so she could gain some justice.

I hated crowded restaurants and our first non-date proved that we could get interrupted at any time.

Today I wanted this dinner to be spectacular, so in the morning I made some phone calls and secured a

private table on the roof terrace in one of the best places in Edinburgh.

The first support meeting was next week and I was scared to death. Even thinking about any kind of

deep and meaningful conversation with other people freaked me the fuck out. I didn’t bother to tell

Sasha, but in the middle of the night when I was alone in the apartment, I had been getting cold

sweats. All my distraction and avoidance techniques had been taken away from me, so I was

desperate to have her in my bed. Not just to fuck, but so I wasn’t alone.

I parked the car outside the Chester Residence, one of Edinburgh’s most stylish hotels. I wanted to

have her to myself tonight, forgetting about nosy people around us. A couple of times I insisted on

going back to the complex and cooking for her, but every time the answer was the same—a resounding

no.

In the concierge there was a tall waiter that welcomed us with a glass of champagne. Earlier on, I’d

reminded her to grab a change of clothes, because we were going to stay for a night.

Sasha was quiet once we sat down at the table. We were on the terrace on the top floor with our own

apartment that I had hired for the night. I knew that I could forget about fucking her here, but a man can

dream.

“Dex, I don’t know what to say.”

I poured her a glass of vintage champagne and smiled. “We’re celebrating, Barbie. Just eat, drink and

think about my cock. That’s all I’m asking,” I said with a wink.

“Still trying, huh? Thinking that all that dirty talk you will get you laid?”

“There is no doubt about that, Barbie. We are made for fucking and you love my dirty mouth.”

She laughed and winked right back at me. For a bit we talked about banal stuff—her new flat, my work

—until the food was brought up.

“I spoke to my mother today—you know, about my new job,” she chimed in all of a sudden. I was

alerted straight away. Fuck, in the past week I had been trying to find the right moment to tell her about

Joey and her mother, but that right moment never came. “She said that you came to see her to get my

new address.”

She never asked how I found out where she lived. Now it was time to come clean and tell her

everything.

“I was desperate, Barbie, and I knew that if I charmed your mother, my job with you would be much

easier.”

Sasha smiled, shaking her head. “She sounded strange on the phone, like she was reluctant to talk

about it,” she explained, looking confused.

I took a deep breath. I couldn’t keep this from her any longer. “We spoke quite a bit. She told me some

stuff about Joey, stuff that she was hiding from you,” I said. Sasha opened her mouth, but didn’t say a

word. This wasn’t how I wanted this evening to go, but I couldn’t hide this shit from her anymore.

I went ahead and explained what her mother had told me. It was a big deal, but we were both done

with keeping secrets from each other, and she needed to know. Joey was a decent guy and I missed

him. If it weren’t for him, I would probably never have met Sasha. She deserved the truth.

She took her glass and emptied it in one go, not taking her green eyes off me.

“You knew about this for a week and you didn’t say anything?”

“I was planning to tell you in that fucking restaurant, but then we got interrupted. You were too upset,

Barbie, and then we never had the right moment.”

“This all makes a bit of sense now. My mother used to go away every so often and every time she

came back she was different, happier. They didn’t lose touch; they had been seeing each other behind

my father’s back!”

“Wow, hold on a minute. You don’t know this. They fooled around a bit when they were younger, but

that doesn’t mean that your mother had been cheating on your father.”

“I need to talk to her about this. I can’t believe that she waited all this time to tell me.” Sasha turned

away, looking for her phone. She wasn’t making much sense and her mother had asked me to take

care of her.

“Sasha, listen to me carefully. Everyone has secrets. Joey is dead and there is nothing that you can do

about any of this now. Neither of us knows what happened with them. Let’s–”

“I have to speak to Mum, to find out why she lied to me!”

“No, Barbie. Sleep on it and talk to her tomorrow when you’ve had a chance to process this. Don’t be

rash,” I insisted.

“All right, fine. In that case, distract me, Dexter. Let’s go to the room. I’ve kind of lost my appetite.”

“What for?” I asked, confused and still pretty hungry.

She smiled. “To fuck, of course. Is there any other reason to go there?”


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