"I want what Astor's getting!" Harrison declares, bouncing up and down in the booster seat he'd just spent a few minutes insisting he was too grown up for.
"Sorry, buddy. You have to order off of the kids' menu. How about the chicken fingers, hmm? Yum, that looks really good!" I coax.
"Daddy!" Harrison whines.
"He can get whatever he wants, Debra." Dexter sighs.
He looks more detached than usual, like his mind is somewhere else entirely. But wasn't he the one that forced me to come to this tacky ass restaurant just to make Maura happy? This isn't fair. He doesn't get to act like he doesn't care. No, that's bullshit. If anything, it should be the other way around. It's only been a day; I'm not done being mad at him yet.
"He's a child, Dexter. And you've already let him eat too much junk today. Harrison, pick something off of the kids' menu. Now." I snap, surprised at my own sternness.
"Lighten up, Aunt Deb!" Cody says.
"Yeah, I want to see the look on his face after he tastes the hottest hot wings in all of Orlando!" Astor chimes in.
Except for Dexter and I, the entire table erupts with laughter. Even Harrison bursts into hysterics, though I'm not quite sure he even understands what just happened. The waitress arrives a few minutes later to take our orders. Thankfully, Harrison caves and asks for the chicken fingers like I suggested, and I don't end up looking like a total villain.
"Excuse me for a second everyone," I say, grabbing my purse and getting up out of my chair. "I'm just going to the ladies' room, I'll be right back."
Dexter leaps out of his seat with determination, stalking after me.
"Dexter? Are you headed to the ladies' room, too?" Bill jokes.
"Very funny, Bill!" Dexter shouts playfully over his shoulder, still following close behind me.
I ignore him and continue walking until we reach the hallway that leads to the bathrooms. I snap my head around to face him, crossing my arms over my chest in frustration.
"What? I can't even pee without your supervision now? Back the fuck off, Dexter."
"What's in the bag, Debra?" He asks, stepping closer to me.
"None of your business." I reply. "Get away from me, or I swear to God I'll scream."
Dexter's expression hardens and I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I turn around to see a tall, dark-haired man standing there, his eyes flooded with worry.
"Excuse me honey," he begins. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help but overhear...do you need some help? Is this man bothering you?"
"Actually…yes he is." I answer. "But no need to worry, he was just leaving."
Dexter stays where he is, refusing to back down. The man pulls out a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket and writes something down. He hands the paper over to me, glaring at Dexter the entire time.
"Here's my number," he says. "Feel free to give me a call if you ever need anything. This guy won't be bothering you anymore."
I shove the sheet of paper into my pocket and flash a tight smile at the man. Wow, that had to be one of the worst attempts someone has ever made at flirting with me. Still, the jealous look in Dexter's eyes makes it all worth it. The man stands guard, blocking Dexter from following me into the bathroom.
I walk to the stall that's furthest away from the front door and lock myself inside. After a few deep breaths, I reach into my purse and pull out the pregnancy test and try to steady my shaking hand to no avail. I follow the directions on the box, cursing to myself at the five minute waiting time I have to endure before I can finally have some peace of mind. How did I get here? These days, I can't even get that one second of peace. When bad shit happens, something even worse always follows, swallowing me further into the blackness and reminding me that the nightmare will never end.
I can't believe how stupid I've been. I got so caught up in Dexter finally returning my feelings that I completely disregarded everything I'd ever learned about protecting myself and preventing scares like this. But this isn't entirely my fault; Dexter played a role in this too. Why does he have to be such an idiot? He's old enough to know what a fucking condom is.
"Fuck! Fuck!" I cry.
"Deb?" Dexter's husky voice calls out. "Deb, open the door."
Judging by the proximity of his voice, the guy from earlier didn't really do a bang up job at guarding the bathroom. Dexter stands just outside the stall I'm in, leaning his entire body against the door.
"No." I answer, my voice trembling.
"Are you…a-are you pregnant?" He asks uneasily. "Deb, please open the door. We can deal with this. We always do."
"There's nothing to deal with!" I shout. "Well, at least not for another three to four minutes."
"Let me in, Debra!" He shouts, banging on the door a few times.
I chuckle at the irony of the situation. Not too long ago, I was the one begging Dexter to let me in, to actually take off the mask and reveal his true self to me. Once upon a time, that was all I'd ever wanted; but now I just want to make it all go away. If there were a reset button in my hands, I think I'd be pretty fucking close to pressing it.
"No, Dexter." I sigh. "But while you're here, let me just say that I don't appreciate you going through my shit. There's this little thing called privacy, I'm not sure if you've heard of it, but –"
"That isn't what's important right now, Deb." He says. "This baby is half mine. We have to talk about it! We have to alter our entire plan. We –"
"Jesus fucking Christ!" I cackle. "I don't even know if there is a fucking baby. If this is you trying to make me feel better, then you're doing a piss poor job at it, bro. Ugh, I think I'm going to be sick."
"It could be morning sickness, you know." He mumbles.
"God fucking dammit, Dexter!" I yell, forcefully kicking the stall door open. "You're just making things a million times worse! This is exactly why I didn't say anything to you when I missed my fucking period. I've got enough on my mind already. I don't want to have to worry about giving birth to the spawn of Satan now, too."
Dexter flinches, but does his best trying to hide how much that just hurt.
"Ugh, I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean it like that, Dex." I add.
"That doesn't matter now." He says, stepping inside the cramped stall. "You have to talk to me, Deb."
"There's nothing left to say," I whimper. "Other than pink means pregnant and blue means congratu-fucking-lations, there isn't another human being growing inside of you!"
Dexter laughs, and much to my surprise, I do too. He crouches down beside me and places a reassuring palm atop my shaky knee. I gradually bring my anxiety under control, but my mind still races with what ifs. We sit in silence for the remaining few minutes, neither of us knowing what to say. I look down at my watch when the five minutes have finally passed, then I turn to Dexter.
"Here, you do it." I say, forcing my eyes shut and handing him the pregnancy test. "I can't look. I'd rather gauge my eyes out than look."
He takes the test from my trembling fingers and places his free hand on my back, rubbing me calmingly.
"Well…?" I ask, his silence automatically making me assume the worst.
"It's blue." He says.
I notice an odd tinge of disappointment in his voice, but the relief hits me like a tsunami. I jump up off of the toilet seat and throw my hands in the air.
"Yes! Oh, thank the baby fucking Jesus!" I rejoice. "Why the hell do you look so upset? This is the best freaking luck we've had in a while, Dexter."
"I know…but I was thinking it over on the drive to the restaurant, and I decided that us having a baby wouldn't be the worst thing in the world." He replies.
"Oh, you decided? You decided? Because clearly, I have no say in anything." I fire back.
"Deb," He scoffs. "You know that's not what I meant. Just hear me out."
"No. Now throw that shit in the trash and come on. Everyone is probably wondering where we are."
"So, that's it then? You're back to giving me the cold shoulder? Even after what just happened?" Dexter asks with a child-like pout on his face.
"What makes you think I stopped?"
"Aunt Deb, would you mind helping me pick out a dress for a party tomorrow night? Don't tell her I said this, but grandma isn't exactly much help with this type of stuff." Astor asks.
"When's the last time you've seen me in a dress, Astor? I'll help you, but as for being a bigger help than Maura, well, I'm not making any promises." I laugh.
"What are my two favorite girls up to?" Dexter asks as he lurks in the doorway, inserting himself where he doesn't belong just like he's been doing for the entire day.
"Oh, hi Dexter. I didn't even hear you come in!" Astor exclaims, sitting cross-legged on her bed. "Aunt Deb just agreed to go to the mall with me."
"That's great, Astor. How about we make a family trip out of it?" He proposes, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Go get Cody. He probably won't want to come, so let him know that there may or may not be a new video game in it for him."
Astor goes to get Cody, leaving me alone with Dexter yet again. He stands opposite me, saying nothing and refusing to wipe that stupid smirk off of his face. I don't say a word either, determined not to give in to him. He caves soon enough, inching so close to me so that I can feel his breath tickling the tip of my nose.
"You're going to have to talk to me eventually, Deb. Maura and Bill seem to already think something was weird with us at lunch."
"Yeah, well, they wouldn't be wrong." I say, crossing my arms defiantly over my chest. "I don't have to do anything but smile for the kids and pretend I'm not dead inside, and I think I'm doing a fucking fantastic job of that at the moment. It would be easier without you breathing down my neck all the time though, brother."
"So, what? You expect me to just leave you alone?" he asks, a look of genuine curiosity forming on his face.
"That would be great." I say with a forced smile.
"Well, what if I don't want to?" He challenges.
"What do you want?" I ask, stepping closer to him and letting my lips brush slightly against his.
His eyes fall down to my lips as he draws heavy breaths.
"I want you." He declares, softly cupping my face in his hands.
"Well, Dexter. You know what they say," I begin, moving sharply away from his touch. "You can't always get what you want".
After a trip to the mall that consisted of Dexter staring me down for a couple of hours and me telling which Astor dress I hated the least, we all went back to the house for an awkward dinner. Now, a few hours later, I've finally decided to go upstairs and try to get some well-deserved sleep.
I enter the room and am surprised to see Dexter already lying down in bed. The covers are pulled all the way up to his chin, and he's turned away from me, apparently sleeping. I stand and watch him for a little while, captivated by how peaceful he looks. I want to go to him, to apologize for the way I've been acting lately, but I snap out of it soon enough. No, I don't owe him shit. I refuse to feel bad for having a fucking conscious.
I head to the bathroom and change into my pajamas, silently cursing myself for not bringing any pants. As I get the water running and start to brush my teeth, I hear a faint noise from the bedroom. I ignore it, but a few seconds later, I hear it again. I turn around and of course, there's Dexter, walking steadily towards the open bathroom door. He creeps closer to me, staring longingly from the doorway. I watch him through the mirror as I continue brushing my teeth, neither of us breaking eye contact with the other. I take extra care with my routine, hoping to put off our inevitable confrontation for as long as possible.
Dexter is clad only in a pair of boxer shorts, his erection unmistakable even in the poorly lit bathroom. I feel a flutter in the pit of my stomach and that's when I finally end our staring contest to rinse the toothpaste out of my mouth. I turn to face him and cross my arms over my chest. The oversized t-shirt I have on is pretty thick, but I don't want to risk Dexter noticing how hard my nipples are. The smug bastard would love that. Fuck him and his stupid face.
Dexter glides effortlessly across the blue tiled floor; his eyes tearing into me and making me feel weak in the knees.
"Fuck." I mumble when he roughly grabs me by the waist and hoists me up onto the sink.
He places a curious hand at my thigh and drags my lacy panties down my legs. He smirks when they fall to the floor, and I gasp at the cool sensation of the porcelain sink pressed against my bare flesh.
"Spread your legs for me." He says, his voice dripping with dark seduction and his hazel eyes full of intent.
"No." I fire back, crossing my legs together tightly in defiance.
"Oh, so that's how you want this to go down?" He asks, raising his eyebrow quizzically.
He picks me up again, this time pushing me face-first against the wall. He leans closer to me and presses his erection against my ass, rubbing teasingly against my rear. His closeness sends an excruciating wave of liquid heat from my belly to the softness between my thighs, and it takes every ounce of self control that I have left to refrain from moaning.
"You can't keep teasing me like this. It's making me crazy," he says. "You might've taken off my ring but that doesn't change the way you feel about me. You want me. You can't live without me."
I'm tempted to give in, to relinquish all control and let him satisfy my desires; but I'm as headstrong as I am stubborn, and I decide to play along. I've been longing to give him a well-deserved taste of his own medicine for a while now.
"Mmmhmm, keep telling yourself that," I reply, sliding out from between him and the wall and walking back over to the bed. "You're pretty fuckin' full of yourself, anyone else ever tell you that?"
Dexter follows behind me with a look of defiance in his eyes, standing over me as I sit down on the bed with my legs crossed. I part them slowly and a smirk washes over his face.
"You know," I continue, trailing my hand across my chest and down my abdomen. "I was actually doing alright before you had your little epiphany and decided you were in love with me all of a sudden…I mean, I was still fucked up, but I still had power."
My hand falls lower and lower until I finally push two fingers inside of myself. Dexter's lips part slightly at the sight, and I plunge my fingers deeper in response, soon adding a third. I gradually start to pick up speed and a low moan escapes my lips.
"Every day I would feel that tingle between my thighs, and I couldn't wait to jump under the covers and fuck myself until I screamed. Sometimes, I couldn't hold out until the end of the day, so I'd go into my office and lock the door. I'd thrust my fingers deep inside of my dripping pussy and imagine that you were fucking me instead. Whenever I wanted it, however I wanted it." I purr.
I'm surprised that I even allowed those words to come out of my mouth, but the look of sheer excitement on Dexter's face as I work myself harder makes me pretty fucking confident.
"That was vulgar, Deb…even for you." He coos, attempting to lean in closer and kiss me.
"Not so fast, Dexter. I might want you, but I can live without you. I can get myself off ten times over." I taunt. "I'm not some lovesick puppy that'll come running whenever you call. Come to think of it, that guy at the restaurant earlier seemed mighty interested in taking your place. He seemed a bit strange, but I guess that's just how I like 'em, huh?"
My breaths start to become more ragged as I pick up my pace. Abruptly, I remove my fingers, not quite ready to come yet. I want to make Dexter squirm. I slide one finger into my mouth, keeping my eyes on Dexter as I suck on it. I pop the finger out of my mouth and gesture with the pointer for him to come closer. I move backwards on the bed and he obediently follows, hovering over me in anticipation of my next move. I trace his bottom lip with my glistening middle finger and shove it into his mouth. He sucks at it hungrily with a mischievous look in his eyes.
"You're trying to make me jealous? Really?" He asks after he's licked the finger clean.
"I don't know, am I?" I tease, hopping off of the bed.
I bend over, giving him a damn good view, and pick my discarded jeans up off of the floor. I start to rifle through the pockets until I find the piece of paper that the guy from the restaurant scribbled his number on, smiling to myself at the thought of teasing Dexter even further. Earlier today when that guy was hitting on me, I thought he was nothing short of repulsive…but Dexter certainly doesn't have to know that.
"Maybe I'll give him a call…" I start, pulling my jeans on. "Everyone's asleep now, so they won't mind if I use the phone in the living room. I wouldn't suggest you wait up."
I wave at Dexter condescendingly and begin to inch toward the door, hoping that he'll stop me.
"Jesus Christ, Debra. You drive me fucking insane." He growls.
"Good. How do you think you make me feel all the time?" I question, spinning around to face him again.
"I've just been trying to be open with you! I thought that was what you wanted?" He asks.
"No, what I want is for you to stop trying to control me, Dexter! I'm my own person and I make my own decisions! I want you to see me as more than just your moody, pathetic little sister. Is that so fucking unreasonable?"
"You're so much more than that, Deb," he says, stepping closer to me. "But you're all I have left, and I'm going to do whatever it takes to protect you. You have to understand that."
"But you're smothering me!" I yell. "I've been trying to glue the pieces back together, but it's like all I have is tape. Eventually the tape falls apart, and I'm just…broken." I explain. "I'm broken."
"You're not!" Dexter shouts.
"I am! And I'm trying to get back to the way I was, I'm fucking trying, but I can't do that if I feel like a puppet. I love you so much, you know I do; but ever since New Year's, I've felt like I have no control over my life. I guess that's why I tried to hurt myself before. I just wanted to take back that control. I don't want to be helpless anymore, Dex. Jesus, I wasn't planning on having another breakdown. Thanks for that." I sigh, wiping a few lone tears from my eyes.
"You're not helpless. Not even a little bit. You're the strongest person I've ever known, Deb. I wish I were more like you." He replies. "I'm not as good as you; I'm not as kind, as thoughtful, as smart, as alive. This is all new to me. So please, don't write me off. Don't leave me. Just…just do what you gotta do."
Dexter puts his hands up in surrender, instantly taking me back to that cramped shipping container. This time though, I don't feel helpless. I feel strong.
I saunter over to him and trail my palm across his bare torso, tracing his scars with my fingertips. I lean in slowly as if I'm going to kiss him, and he meets me halfway. Instead of pressing my lips against his, I bite down hard on his plump bottom lip, drawing some blood in the process.
"Get on the fucking bed." I command, pushing him down and making the decision for him.
I roughly peel off his boxers, and he moans when I take his throbbing cock into my hand. I release him after a few tender strokes, and he whimpers in protest.
"Sssh," I say, unzipping my jeans and taking them completely off. "Please tell me you actually have condoms this time, Dexter."
"In my wallet, underneath the picture of us. Hurry up!" He pants.
I retrieve his wallet from the nightstand and search for the condoms. The ring I'd taken off this morning – my ring – is hidden behind them. I ignore it, not quite ready to give in and put it back on my finger yet. I take a single condom from Dexter's wallet and clutch it in my hand, finally making my way back to him.
I crawl onto the bed and start to straddle him, rubbing myself torturously along the length of him.
"Debra!" He snarls.
I flash a sardonic smile and Dexter tugs fervently at the bottom of my t-shirt. I let him pull it up and over my head, fully satisfied that I was able to watch him nearly jump out of his own skin. He grabs onto one breast with bruising force, using his other hand to reach down in between my thighs. I'm very wet and very ready, but I move slightly out of reach, avoiding his touch for a few more agonizing seconds. I'm not sure that I'm ready to stop tasting the dominance that I've craved for so long.
"Please." Dexter desperately moans.
"Please what?" I ask, swiveling my hips back and forth as I watch him continue to lose all self control.
"You know what!" He shouts.
"Hmm, I can't say that I do."
"Fuck me!" He begs.
"Mmm, I like you desperate." I reply, opening the wrapper and putting the condom on for him.
I finally let him slide into my wetness, and he lets out a sigh of relief as I take all of him. I drag my nails sharply across his chest as we set a pace, leaving little scratches and stinging half-moons in my wake. He gladly takes the pleasure with the pain, because he knows that's what I want from him. That duality is exactly what he's exposed me to for most of our lives. If this makes me feel like I have some semblance of control over my life again, then who is he to take that away from me?
I start to ride him faster, letting my hands wander further up his body. I wrap them around his neck, careful not to squeeze too tight, and his eyes open wide with exhilaration. The lack of oxygen he's receiving paired with the sensation our joined bodies create just excites him even more. He pounds me harder, letting out strangled cries of ecstasy between strokes. Muffled moans and the sound of flesh against flesh fill the air. I watch Dexter's face, studying the contours of his cheeks highlighted by the illuminated darkness.
"Deb," he pants, his lips curling into a blissful smile.
His breaths become more labored, and I know that he's moments from reaching his peak.
"Give it to me!" I shout. "Harder!"
Dexter's muscles tighten and in one swift motion he lifts us both up off of the bed. I drop my hands from his neck to get a secure hold on his shoulders as he backs us up fiercely against the bureau. We crash into it with a bang, and for a second Dexter stops thrusting, fearing that someone might have heard us.
"Fuck." He says, resting his forehead against mine.
After a few long seconds, he pulls out briefly to change the angle. He spreads my legs wider, and then slams into me with a primal grunt, hitting my clit just right. He returns to my lips with fervor, his kisses intoxicating.
He lasts a few moments more, and then comes undone with a melodic moan. I feel the pressure building and find my own release a few seconds later, throwing my head back with a low whimper as my body starts to convulse. The back of my head hits the wall with a thud, but I ignore the pain, completely wrapped up in the pleasure.
Once I've recovered, Dexter lifts me off of the bureau and I cling to him. We fall to the floor and I land on top of him with a giggle, tangling my limbs with his. I rest my head on his slick chest, and he runs his fingers gently through long strands of hair. When his breathing evens out, Dexter untangles himself from me and gets up off of the carpet. I crane my neck to study his physique as he glides across the floor. He's all chiseled abs and toned muscles, and I feel my arousal building again the longer I stare. Dexter must be on the same page as me, because he throws the old condom away and slides a new one on.
He saunters back over to me and helps me to my feet. He pushes me backwards until I hit the wall, grabbing onto one of my legs and wrapping it around his waist. He starts to nibble on my ear, sending waves of pleasure throughout my entire body. He reaches between us to feel how ready I am for him, and then slams wildly into me. I close my eyes as he fucks me hard, screaming his name practically at the top of my lungs.
"Maura and Bill are right in the next room," he mutters huskily in my ear. "We wouldn't want to wake them."
His increasing ferocity paired with the now spoken taboo we find ourselves breaking makes my second orgasm hit me with lightning speed. After a few more strokes, Dexter welcomes his own release. He lifts me into his arms and covers me in soft, sweet kisses as we come down. He carries me over to the bed and lies down beside me, and I curl up against him.
"I'm sorry, Deb," he says. "I'm so sorry."
I'm not sure if his latest apology is about Quinn, or Harrison, or just every fucking horrible decision that brought us here; but for once, I don't care.
I press a soft kiss to his chest and nuzzle my head against him, basking in his warmth and soaking up his nearness.
"Are you okay?" He asks.
"No." I reply.
Dexter sighs, and I feel his chest sink in defeat.
"But I think I'm getting there." I say, lifting my head up to look into his eyes.
In them, I see home.