On the Edge (The Grange Complex Book 1)

Chapter 9

Dexter © 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

Sasha looked amazing with that short black dress that barely covered her ass. She didn’t notice me

standing on the other side of the room when she walked through the door. Hell, I had to take control of

my fucking dick, because I was already rock hard for her.

She had the perfect body, curves in the right places and fantastic breasts. Wow, I was going to come in

my pants just looking at her. I wasn’t the only one that noticed how beautiful she looked tonight. All the

other sad fuckers in the room had been following her every move since she walked in. This wasn’t

going to be easy. I wanted to grab her and claim her as mine, but I knew that this wasn’t the way to do

it. She hated my guts, so I had to play it carefully.

“I’m not your property, Dexter. I’m here, which means that I can choose whoever I please,” she replied,

lifting her glass to sip some of her champagne. I glanced at Harry, who was watching us silently. He

looked amused. He knew that I was interested in her. A wave of jealous rage was slowly filling me and I

needed to calm the fuck down. I wanted to spread her legs and slide my cock between these gorgeous

thighs and claim her right there.

“I’m the one for you, Barbie,” I said.

“Harry, would you please introduce me around? I’d rather jump out of the window than stay here and

listen to this asshole.”

“Your wish is my command. Safe hunting, Dexter,” Harry said, winking at me. Bastard, he was mocking

me, but it was just a warm-up. Sasha was going to be mine by the end of the night.

I watched as he started introducing her to a few guys that I knew from the previous parties. Gavin, Rich

and the new guy with a black beard. A lot of times Harry invited the same men and women, but tonight

there were only a few faces that I recognised. I needed to get laid, and Sasha wasn’t buying my cocky

attitude, but ever since I met her I couldn’t think about anyone else but her.

I hated crowds and being around people in general. Normally I felt shut in, trapped, almost

claustrophobic. It was easier to overcome these fears in my day-to-day job, but I struggled during

parties and functions.

“Hey, handsome, how are you?”

A short brunette in a long red dress touched my shoulder. She was new and she was exactly the type

that I was used to. Small, perky tits with a slim, almost waif-like stature and dark hair. That was before I

met Sasha.

“Let’s get straight to the point, darling. We’re both here because we like to fuck,” I said, finishing my

whisky. This was my second glass, but the alcohol was helping me with the mounting darkness that

was slowly creeping through.

She looked shocked that I was so blunt. The problem was that I wasn’t interested in any other pussy

tonight except Sasha’s.

“Well, I’m sure that we can come to some sort of agreement,” she purred with a smile.

“Whatever, lady. Go and find something to do. I’ll find you when I’m ready,” I snapped at her.

“Show some respect. I’m not going to be treated like some cheap whore.” She scowled at me.

“If you’re not a cheap whore, then what the hell are you doing here?” I asked her. She called me an

asshole and walked away. Good. I wasn’t in the mood anyway. This was going to be long night and I

had to get myself drunk enough to numb the asshole me and switch to a nicer Dexter. Screw it, I didn’t

do nice, but Sasha hated the real me and I was desperate for her to come back home with me.

For the next couple of hours I stood alone in the corner watching her talk to other men. She looked

uncomfortable, but she was doing everything in her power to hide it. Women came and went away after

trying to talk to me, but I wasn’t making an effort. The food was brought around on little trays, and I

shoved some canapés into my mouth so at least I had something to do rather than just feeling like shit.

My head was screwed and I had no idea why I wanted Sasha so much. She glanced at me from time to

time from under her lashes, with that cute flush on her cheeks. When Gavin wrapped his arm around

her waist, I thought I was going to smash his jaw.

I should have known this was going to happen when I challenged her to show up here tonight. It was a

fucking swing party, for Christ’s sake, but Sasha wasn’t like the others. She didn’t have that predatory

hunger in her eyes. She needed the closeness the intimacy of a lover. Why was I thinking this? I was

turning into a total fucking pussy.

“How long are you going to stand here and pretend that you don’t give a fuck?” Harry asked,

approaching me. He had changed the music into something more sensuous: Massive Attack’s “Angel,”

I think. The waitresses that carried the canapés were dressed in Playboy bunny costumes. Only Harry

could pull off something like that.

“I don’t. Pussies come and go. There's plenty here, but I’m not in the mood tonight.”

“Are you ever not in the mood? You turned down Dorothy and she models for top fashion houses,”

Harry said, sipping his drink. Fucking model, it was probably the one that looked like a skeleton. She

was just skin and bones, nothing to grab on to, no curves, no luscious flesh to press into. She was

usually my type, but I just wasn’t interested tonight.

“There will be more,” I muttered. Harry turned to face me, but I ignored him.

“You like the blondie, don’t you? You’ve been watching her like a hawk all evening,” he observed.

“I want to fuck her and she wants it, too, but she's pretending that she isn’t into me,” I growled, trying to

hide my annoyance, but Harry picked up on it. He just knew me too well, like Joey used to.

“There's more to it. Why she is here anyway? She doesn’t strike me as a type that would sleep with

anyone that freely.”

I fucking know it. You don’t need to tell me that.

He was screwing with me, clever bastard. I knew that as soon as I fucked Sasha I could move on to

someone else and get back to my usual routine of daily random fucks.

“Tell Gavin to keep his dick in his pants. Blondie is mine,” I said, seeing how that asshole was touching

her all over while she was trying to push him off. Harry laughed and was just about to say something

else, but the sound of his phone distracted him. He picked the call up, walking away.

My hands were itching and I was battling with myself about whether or not to go and talk to her. I wasn’t

scared of anything, but I was anxious about playing the nice guy. Women expected me to behave a

certain way.

Sasha managed to pull away from Gavin and his company and she was heading to the kitchen. I was

just about to follow her, when someone grabbed me from behind.

“Hello, stranger, long time no see. My pussy has missed you.”

Victoria, of course. How could I not suspect that she would be here, fishing for my cock yet again?

Sasha

“What do you mean you can’t dance?”

I was eavesdropping on Harry’s conversation while helping myself to some food. Was this about the

pole dancer?

That guy Gavin kept running his fingers over my spine, asking me if I was interested in him. He seemed

nice but a bit over the top, and I wanted to slap his hand that traced my naked flesh. Dexter was

watching me the whole time, I’d noticed. I could see that women were approaching him, but he didn’t

react, as if he wanted to send them away.

“Jackie, I don’t have a replacement, and my guests are waiting. What am I supposed to do now?”

I almost dropped my plate. Harry’s dancer had stood him up. I glanced at the pole and imagined myself

up there as everyone’s eyes were on me. In the past few weeks I had been working very hard on my

own routine. Hell, I was confident enough to perform the dance here. Dexter wanted to use me, but

there was no one else at this party that I wanted.

“Crap, she was a waste of my valuable time,” Harry muttered, standing behind me.

I bit my lip. If I wanted to do this, I had to say something now. “What’s the matter?” I asked him.

“My pole dancer cancelled on me. Apparently she twisted her ankle, but I bet she had another

performance somewhere else that was much more important to her. Why do I never learn? This isn’t

the first time.”

“I can replace her,” I said quietly looking at him.

“Replace her? What do you mean?” he asked furrowing his brow.

“I’ve been doing pole dancing for years. I can perform for your guests,” I said, feeling embarrassed all

of a sudden because he was staring at me as if I had lost my mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.

“You can dance on the pole? Seriously?” he asked.

“Oh, forget that I said anything,” I snapped and turned away, but he grabbed my elbow.

“Seriously, Sasha, I’m not joking right now. If you’re good, then you’d be doing me a great favour,” he

argued.

I glanced at Dexter, who was kissing some black-haired supermodel. Great, so he already had moved

on to someone else. “I think that I’m good enough.”

“Sorted then. What do you need to get ready?”

Gee, I hadn’t thought about what I could wear. This party needed a stripper, so I had to scream of sex

and pull out the most erotic routine I could think of. I couldn’t dance in my current outfit.

“I have to pop into my apartment for a minute and then we can start.”

“Excellent. You’re a life-saver, darling, and by the way, Dexter may be unstable, but he’s a decent guy

when he wants to be.”

I smiled and left Harry’s apartment as soon as possible. Dexter and the girl had vanished and I

wondered if he was having sex with her in one of Harry’s rooms.

When I got to my bedroom, I started searching through my clothes. After throwing more than half of my

wardrobe on the floor, I slowly realised that I didn’t own anything sexy enough.

I was looking through my underwear drawer when I noticed a small bag in the bottom, hidden between

my other clothes. When I looked inside, my heart kicked in my chest.

Remembering my shopping trip from a year ago, I pulled out a skintight, red-hot, strapless sequin

romper with a pitchfork and devil horns. Could this be it? I bought this costume over a bet and never

got to wear it. I hadn’t intended to bring it with me to Scotland, but somehow I must have packed it with

other stuff.

I didn’t have much time to think about this. Harry was waiting. I stripped and put the costume on. It was

tight, almost too tight and I felt self-conscious staring at myself in the mirror. The top curved in a

sweetheart neckline over my boobs, clinging to them so that you could see the exact shape and size of

them including my nipples. The suit moulded itself to my body and was cut like a pair of boy shorts so

that my arse cheeks were more than half visible. Dear God, could I actually do this? I put the horns on,

and my red heels. For at least an hour I could transform myself into someone else. This outfit exposed

everything I was trying to hide—my ass and huge thighs—but I knew that Dexter wouldn’t be able to

take his eyes off me.

I ran back to Apartment 30, using the stairs this time, thinking that I couldn’t back out now. I had thrown

a black silk robe over me, so as not to upset the neighbours. When I slipped back into Harry’s

apartment, everyone was still there talking and laughing. A few couples were scattered around in the

corners. There was no sign of Dexter, thank God. He was probably still screwing the brunette in the

back bedroom.

Harry dragged me to the hallway and made me take my robe off. As his eyes took me in, he stopped

breathing altogether.

“Sasha, oh dear lord, you look sexy,” he whispered.

“Oh shut up, I didn’t have anything else.”

“If you won’t pick up that idiot, Dexter, I would be honoured to ask you out,” he said with a serious

expression. I giggled nervously. Harry seemed nice, not like any other men out there.

“I thought you don’t date?”

He grinned. “For a girl like you I would change into a monogamist.”

“Stop embarrassing me. You don’t even know me.”

“You don’t even know how sexy you look right now. Bloody gorgeous,” he said. “Anyway, I’ll catch you

after. I need to let everyone know that you’re going to perform. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I said confidently.

He gave me a warm smile and walked back to the living room. All of a sudden I was terrified. The lights

went off, leaving only the area around the pole lit.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for the best part of this evening. Sasha has agreed to perform for us.

Please welcome her warmly.”

Someone whistled and I heard a few claps. It was time to lock up my pride and do what I could do best

—dance on the pole.