On the Edge (The Grange Complex Book 1)

Sasha

This was bad idea. Dexter wasn't behaving like himself; he was simply too nice and I didn't know if it was because we were going to see my parents or because I had told him about my precious baby. Last night he looked so vulnerable and lost. Normally my coping mechanism would've stopped me and shut the truth away, but yesterday everything was so different. I felt as if I wanted to share my secret with him. Now I was standing outside my parent's home, anxious to have him next to me. Mum knew that I had sworn off men for good, and I didn't want her to think that there was something going on between us. He was the exact type of man that I didn't want to get involved with, and this trip was just a favour.

I knocked a couple of times and then walked inside, feeling slightly nervous. Dexter was standing right behind me with that unusually calm expression.

"Hey, Mum, it's me. I brought someone, a friend," I shouted. When I looked back at him he was smirking behind me. What was I supposed to say? A boyfriend?

Mum came out of a room wearing a green long dress. She was off today and she was probably in the middle of baking. Being in the kitchen relaxed her. Mum worked hard, normally a fifty-hour week, while Dad drove around Europe. I learnt from an early age that both my parents were proper workaholics.

"Sasha? Are you okay, hun?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm good. I need you to sign some paperwork. I think we forgot to complete this one form." I then pointed at the Scottish sex god standing behind me. "By the way, this is Dexter, my neighbour." My mother smiled widely. "Hello, Dexter. It's nice to meet you," she said, eyeing him intensely.

Dexter looked puzzled, staring at her with some sort of recognition in his eyes. "Mrs Scott, it's lovely to finally meet you," he said, finally snapping out of it and shaking my mother's hand. "I'm sorry to be so forward, but I recognise you from one of Joey's photographs that he had in his apartment."

Mum's face paled and her eyes went wide with shock. For about a minute no one spoke. Tension mounted in the air and I felt like someone had dropped a large stone between Dexter and Mum. She grabbed my arm suddenly and said, "Sasha, can I please have a word with you in the other room?"

Before I had a chance to say anything, she was dragging me upstairs. I shot Dexter a confused look, shrugging my shoulders. She shut the door to the bedroom quickly, like she was afraid that he would follow. "Mum, are you okay? That was quite rude," I pointed out.

"You should go, and take that boy with you. I told you that I don't want to talk about Joey," she stated, rubbing her hands over her thighs nervously. This was getting silly now. I had no idea what had happened in the past, but the guy was dead and he was my uncle. I needed to know the truth.

"This is the man that I was telling you about, remember? Dexter. He knew Joey and apparently they were close. What's going on? What are you so upset about?"

"Nothing, it's nothing. I'm not going to discuss this with you or him. Find a buyer as soon as you can. I don't want anything to do with this whole thing," she insisted.

I folded my arms over my chest, trying to figure out what she was hiding. I'd never been interested in family drama, but she was keeping stuff from me-stuff that was obviously important.

"These things take time. I won't be able to just sell it overnight, Mum. And I'm not leaving until you tell me what Uncle Joey did to you or what happened."

"This has nothing to do with you, Sasha, and I won't be digging out any crap right now."

"In that case, I'll ask Dad. He should know more about—"

"No, don't you dare! I don't want to worry your father; he's on the road. Sell it as fast as you can. Tell that man downstairs that I'm not feeling well. I don't want to see him."

If my mother convinced herself about something, then that was it. She was stubborn as a mule, and she wasn't prepared to talk about it. I wished that we had the same connection we used to, before I'd moved to London. It was my fault that we had drifted apart.

"Fine, but eventually you'll have to tell me what's going on," I muttered and left the room. I felt like a complete idiot. It looked like I didn't know my family after all.

I went back downstairs and told Dexter to wait for me in the car. He didn't question me. Mum signed the paperwork and fifteen minutes later, I was walking away from the house.

Thoughts about my childhood and school were moving through my mind. I was trying to remember family gatherings, events that mattered, but nothing came to mind. No one had ever mentioned Joey before. "Are you all right, Barbie?" Dexter asked me when I got into the car.

"No, not really. I'm confused. Something is wrong. My mother has never behaved like that. She was perfectly fine until you mentioned that photo."

"I'm not wrong-she is the woman from the picture. It should have clicked earlier. Joey carried it with him all the time. It was pretty fucking important to him."

"She bluntly refused to explain anything. This doesn't make any sense," I muttered.

"I don't know what to say, Barbie. Joey was a very private person. I never asked him about the picture," Dexter said. I sank back to my seat, knowing that I had to tell him about the letter.

"Dexter listen, at Harry's party, after you showed up when I was changing, you dropped a letter. I think it must have been in your jacket pocket," I began, wondering how he was going to react when he found ou that I have read his private correspondence.

"Letter, what fucking letter?"

"A letter that Joey wrote to you while he was on holiday. I read it, so I know about his epilepsy attack and the way you reacted that night." Dexter looked at me, taking a short sharp breath. I was moved when I read that letter, and I wanted to get to know the real Dexter. "We were friends Sasha, very good friends."

"Dexter, you saved him that night. I don't get it. Why do you have to hide under that selfish act, like you don't really care and-"

"I was lucky that I knew what to do. Joey was a decent man, but he's gone now. End of story. I don't want you to dig into this shit now," he cut me off, sounding angry and frustrated. There was no point pursuing this subject any further with him. I learned from early on that he was stubborn and uncooperative when it came to questions like that. We hadn't just met and yet he still wasn't ready to open up to me about the way he behaved.

He drove off the estate in silence. I was glad that I finally told him that I read that damn letter, at least I didn't have to hide anymore than I had to. My own past was in pieces and I didn't want him to see me as a victim.

"My mother wants me to get rid of the apartment as soon as possible," I said. Dexter tightened his palms on the wheel, but didn't say anything. The estate agent had scheduled a viewing for today, but I didn't mention this him. Suddenly I felt really sad. I wasn't ready to leave. He was insisting that this was just sex, but at the same time he was breaking a lot of rules for me. Maybe there was something betw us, but I was fully aware that Dexter wasn't boyfriend material.

We reached Glasgow Royal Infirmary within twenty minutes, riding in complete silence. As we parked the car, I noticed that Dexter had tensed up. We weren't together-hell, we weren't even friends-but I felt that this was a big deal for him. Going to the hospital with someone else, trying to break the usual cycle.

Doctor Boyd had agreed to see him on such a short notice as a favour. Maria, my old friend from uni, had managed to schedule the appointment for him that morning. Boyd was a quite well-known neurologist with many years of experience, and I had a feeling that Dexter had never seen such a renowned specialist before.

It took us a while to find the right building, but after a frustrating search we managed to locate Boyd's consultation room. We didn't talk at all, but Dexter was obviously nervous. I was only there for moral support, but every time I glanced at him he looked agitated and anxious. I didn't think that it was appropriate for me to go into the room with him, so I said I'd wait outside.

Dexter

I didn't know why I had agreed to see this fucking specialist. He wouldn't tell me anything new. He asked me questions about my medical history and requested some pointless tests. I got a prescription for a new drug that I was supposed to try out for a few weeks. In my opinion it was a complete and utter waste of time, but Sasha wanted to help me and I was playing nice Dexter for a bit.

Dark thoughts began to invade my mind. I couldn't fucking stand hospitals; the smell reminded me of my miserable teenage years. My mother was determined to prove that there was something wrong with me She couldn't save Pap, so she wanted to run every possible test on me, making my life even more miserable. Doctors were running test after test, but they couldn't find anything wrong. For a couple of years I blamed Mum for my getting into fights and heavy drinking.

I was fucked off with the way everyone treated me. I didn't have a brain tumour or a cancer. It was the same with my brother. Mother was so overprotective about everything.

The dark thoughts were slowly embracing my mind, pulling the strings of self-preservation away. I didn't have any fucking pills on me and the stuff that the neurologist had prescribed was new. I drove on knowing that I needed to get stoned quickly, but I was out of weed.

I could call Penny or Courtney again, but they were both pissed with me and besides, I wasn't in the mood for fucking anyone else apart from Sasha.

It was always a vicious circle, the act of sex. Yeah, I needed to fuck someone, but Sasha wouldn't want to be used. She cared that I was in pain yesterday and she did tell me about her miscarriage. Fuck, yeah I was attracted to her, and I wanted to taste her pussy again, but at what cost?

After my appointment, we didn't talk. I couldn't believe that I lost that letter from Joey. I must have left it in my suit jacket. She thought that we could talk about it, hell I didn't want to bring it up or think about Joey at all. We were close, but he was dead. I didn't quite come to terms with the fact that I couldn't talk to him anymore.

When I was passing the Hilton, I took an abrupt turn to the left and drove straight to the swanky car park filled with shiny new cars. Sasha looked at me, surprised. She was beautiful and at this moment I didn't understand my obsession with fucking brunettes. I had never been sexually attracted to blondes; even in college, all my girlfriends had been dark haired.

"And we stopped here because?" she asked, sucking on her bottom lip. I leaned in, inhaling the same perfume that she'd worn the first time we met outside in the corridor. My johnson started twitching uncontrollably. This was the only fucking way; I had to stop the encroaching darkness and her loud moans could easily cure me.

"Here's what's going to happen, Barbie. You want me and I'm horny as fuck, so we are going to get a room in the hotel and we are going to fuck," I said and closed her mouth with mine, fast, so she couldn't say no. Besides, I had been meaning to kiss her since I shut the door on my car. I brought her closer and moulded my hand around her boobs. She moaned and that was enough to send me to another planet.

My groin burned and I made a deep sound in the back of my throat, pushing my tongue inside her mouth and kissing her like she was the only woman that ever existed. I didn't even need to check; I was confident that she was wet. Her pussy would be dripping for me.

"Dex," she moaned when I pulled away, my chest rising and falling in rapid movements. "You could have just asked me and I would have said yes."

"You talk too much, so I just made a decision for you," I said and got out of the car.

Just outside the building I stopped, pulled her into my arms and abused her mouth until she couldn't catch her breath. We got looks from posh hoity-toity people who probably found touching in public a disgrace. I didn't care anymore. Right then, I wasn't in my complex and I was planning to fuck her hard until I was numb and she was satisfied.

The woman at the front desk was taking too much time. She seemed nervous, blushing when I asked how fast she could give us the room. While she was trying to figure out how to use a fucking computer, I brought Sasha in front of me and shoved my hand inside her knickers. A group of Asian businessmen were surrounding us, and no one was paying attention to us. She looked at me, trying to pull my hand away, but I slapped her wrist, grinning.

When I delved my finger into her wet folds, my cock strained against my trousers. I pressed my erection into her bum cheeks. At that point I didn't have much control left in me.

"How would you like to pay, Mr. Tyndall?" the receptionist asked. She smiled at me. Yeah, yeah, yeah. She wanted my cock too, but I was too busy taking care of my Blondie. The dark-haired receptionist needed to get in the queue.

"Here, try this," I said and threw my bank card over Sasha's shoulder. The woman went back to the computer screen and I plunged my finger inside Sasha's wetness again. My pulse was racing, and I ran my other hand through her hair, gently kissing the back of her neck. I started massaging her clit slowly, my cock digging against her perfect firm ass. She dropped her head to the side, biting her lip hard. I wondered how long I could torture her like this. Her thighs tensed and I ran my tongue over her neck, forgetting for a second where I was. She was arching herself forward and I smiled to myself.

This was just the beginning, baby.

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