Chapter 47: Way Too Real
- DEX -
I wake up biting the pillow and holding my throbbing dick, and it takes a minute to realize what’s just happened. Again.
What the fuck is going on? That was real. That was WAY too real. These aren’t just normal dreams. I haven’t had any that I can recall in a really long time, but when I did, they were never like that.
Moira hardly seems phased. She is still curled up on the bed asleep.
"Shit," I groan and roll out of bed and strip on the way to the shower.
Not only am I feeling things for Raya in real life—things that are way too deep way too fast—I’m having intensely vivid sex dreams of her when I’m asleep now. This is not a good combination, especially now that she’s going to be staying here.
"Hey Siri, call Liam Diggs’ office on speaker," I say, turning on the cold water of the shower before I realize I didn’t check the time. Shit, it’s too early. He won’t be in yet. Plus, it’s Saturday now that I think about it.
Liam is the psychiatrist who helped me out after mom died, and we’ve stayed in touch over the years. I haven’t had to ask him for professional help in a long time. Maybe I’ll give him a call later on his cell and find a non-humiliating way to ask him if this is any version of normal.
The shower’s cold water is a shock that is much needed. I hiss and lean against the tiles and squeeze my eyes shut, seeing the whole scene with Raya replay. It’s as if she’s in my arms right now. I can still feel the weight of her as I carry her to the bedroom... the perfect hot silk of her tongue, the soft curves of her body, the look of ecstasy on her face, the growls that puttered against her skin that I’ve never made before.
I remember everything—all of the sensations and everything I was thinking. Two words were repeating in my mind, and it was those two words that I was performing with every fucking movement that we made together. You’re mine. I wanted her to know it—to feel it as deeply as I did. I wanted to hear it from her beautiful lips.
They’re still there. Those words are still there. "You’re mine," I say aloud, testing it out in the voice that is a deep gravel from sleep. It sounds wrong—too possessive, which isn’t me. That’s not how I treat women. But it also sounds so fucking right. Because this isn’t just any woman. This is Auraya. This is...
Mine.
The voice cuts through my thoughts—my voice—and fuck, it’s like I need her here right now so I can prove it to her in real life.
I rake a hand down my face and watch the water stream off of me and hit the tiled floor. If this is anything like what Raya’s going through, no wonder she writes the dreams down. How am I going to make this stop?
I don’t want to jack off to a dream of her—it’s nothing in comparison and it feels wrong somehow—but with the pain I’m currently in, there’s no choice at this point. God, she felt so fucking good. I wonder if she feels that good in real life.
"No, I don’t wonder," I growl to myself. "You can’t fuck this woman, Dex. She’s your employee. And you’re not Lawson."
I slam my hand against the wall and turn the water off, grabbing a towel and drying myself roughly, trying to make these thoughts disperse.
—————
After a long run and another shower, the freshness of the dream has finally worn off and I feel more like myself. And now it’s finally an appropriate hour for calling people. I’m going to have to keep myself busy today.
Instead of Liam Diggs, I call Ronnie to make sure that Will’s car is still going to be ready.
"Yeah, bro. I’m just finishing it up this morning. It will be ready by 10."
"Thanks, Ronnie. Can you let me know what the total is? I’ll take care of it."
"You got a thing for the old man?" Ronnie laughs on the other end.
Nope. But I obviously have a serious thing for his daughter.
I chuckle. "No, he’s just a friend. You know."
"Don’t worry, I got you Dex."
After we settle the bill, which I’m sure Ronnie discounted even though I told him not to, I call Will. Because I know that Raya is going to want her stuff from the apartment, and she should never set foot back in that place.
"Good morning, Dex," he answers straight away.
"Hey. Good morning, Will. I checked in with Ronnie, and your car is going to be ready. Do you need a ride? I was thinking we should grab some of Raya’s things so she isn’t worried about going back there herself."
"Yeah, I was kind of thinking that, too." Will doesn’t sound excited about it, though. I don’t blame him. I’m not either. I don’t particularly want to get shot, but I never want that faceless creep setting eyes on Raya again either.
He’s lucky I don’t call someone from my mother’s family—the ones who take care of problems like this with no questions asked. If my cousins found out someone pointed a shotgun at me, and worse—that he was spying on a woman in her home—they would be there in a heartbeat taking care of the guy without me even needing to suggest it. And that’s the thing about family. They wouldn’t even consider it a debt that needed to be paid.
But I haven’t been in contact with my cousins in a long time. After mom passed, I promised my father I would never ask favors from that side of my family. And I’ve never had a reason to.
"I don’t need a ride to pick up the car, but I can meet you at the hospital and we can go from there if you want," Will says on the other end. "I left the key with Raya last night."
My stomach clenches at the thought of seeing her again this morning when I have literally spent the last several hours trying to dull the intensity of that dream. Fuck.
"Great. About 10:30 then?" I say, pretending that I’m not both terrified and excited at the prospect.
"Sure. Sounds good." The man has such a pleasant, happy voice.
When we hang up, I find myself pacing, staring at the phone on the counter. Now what? I could do an hour of work before having to leave to meet Will at the hospital. But that would require a brain able to focus on ad campaigns right now, which I don’t have.
Instead, I make my way out to the guest house. It’s probably a horrible idea since I was just here in the dream that I’m desperately trying to forget, but I need to make sure the space is in suitable condition for Raya to come stay.
A pool and lush garden separate the two houses. It’s Saturday, so our gardener has the day off and is probably spending it with his family. He’s done such a remarkable job keeping my mother’s hydrangeas and other flowers cared for. I’m sure father pays him handsomely for that alone.
Mom always loved being out in the garden. My father would sit on the patio watching her with a drink in his hand, teasing her that she didn’t need to work so hard. He could hire people to take care of the yard. Mom had a wide brimmed hat that she wore to keep the sun off of her face.
"But Jansen, I love being out here. These plants grow strong and healthy like our son because I care for them." Her smiling eyes would find me, playing in the yard or splashing in the pool. Father would just smirk and watch her with that adoring gaze that I came to equate with love. My parents were a good example of it. I was lucky.
My father did everything for my mother. When I first heard the word ’simp,’ it was actually my father who came to mind, as weird as that sounds. My parents may have been married and their relationship already assured, but my father still spoiled her at every turn—bringing her home flowers, taking her to fancy restaurants, flying her to various surprise locations out of the blue. That man was madly in love.
The guest house is actually an example of something that was done for my mother. It started out as a simple pool house before my parents had someone tear it down and rebuild it so that some of my mother’s family could stay when they were visiting from Sicily, which they often did.
When I walk in, everything appears the same. It’s furnished and clean. The cupboards have a small stock of food. There are enough towels in both bathrooms. All the bedrooms are neat and tidy, including the one in the loft.
I only glance in the bedroom that featured in my dream last night. Raya can’t stay in that one. Hopefully she’ll pick one of the other two.
I guess I’ll have to peek at what foods she has in her apartment to know what to stock the kitchen with. I don’t plan on hauling all of her food here. And if she needs her furniture, we can always hire movers to take it to a storage facility until she finds a new place.
While all the details of what needs to be done slowly fall into place in my mind, I nod to myself, leaning against the island in the kitchen. This is going to be fine. It’s definitely a sufficient space for her to stay in. We’ll get it all sorted out.
And then my eyes focus on the counter where I found her stretching to retrieve something in my dream last night. When my eyes lift to that shelf, there’s a small tin box there I’ve never noticed before.
I frown and walk over to grab it. There’s an ornate design on the outside, and I immediately recognize it as my grandmother’s. Nonna Etna. She stayed with us many times. There was actually an entire year when she was here, and it became natural to think of this as Nonna Etna’s house. But I haven’t seen this box of hers in a very long time, and why it would be on this shelf when none of her other things are around, I can’t imagine.
Inside, there are a few small dried flowers and a pile of envelopes worn from age. I take them out and sift through them, noticing the return address is the same on every one: Sicily. And the dates are from nearly twenty years ago.
Was Nonna Etna receiving love letters while she was here? I have to smirk. It would be no use opening them to find out, because they’re all likely written in Italian—a language I have only retained a small amount of from when I was a child. Instead, I close the lid and place the tin box back where it was. I suppose it has become part of the house and its memories now.
When I glance at my phone, barely any time has gone by at all since my call with Will. How is that possible?
Rather than waiting around and allowing the flood of memories to keep on washing over me like they always do when I’m home, I decide it’s not too early to head to the hospital. I doubt there’s anything good that they are offering Raya for breakfast. Maybe I can pick something up for her on the way to kill some more time so I’m not too early.
