He opens the door behind me, and we rush in. A cold breeze hits me from the fan spinning above us, but I don’t stop. I couldn’t even if I wanted to—not with Dax kissing me, gripping me, like I’m his tether to Earth.
He tosses me onto the bed, his fingers working the buttons on his shirt, his gaze trained between my legs that are spread wide.
For Dax.
This sexy man in front of me, who makes me feel whole and alive.
I need more.
I need him like I need water.
I untie the belt around my dress, my hurried movements matching his.
We discard our clothes to the side with fervor, leaving nothing between us. Hovering over me, he kisses me again as he drags his hand down my body and cups me between my legs.
I squirm.
I moan into his mouth, running my hands through his hair, pulling him closer.
He’s not close enough.
He comes willingly, then stops.
Scooting down, he whispers, “I want to taste you.”
Oh. My. God.
Everything happens in slow, delicious motion.
Dax kisses the valley between my breasts, dragging his tongue down my stomach, then kneels on the floor. He pulls my legs to the edge, his warm hands on my hot skin, and when he’s close to where I need him most, my legs tremble in anticipation.
Then he buries his face between my thighs, and I could burst at just the sight.
I fist the soft sheets, sinking farther into the bed, losing my mind.
He continues gripping my thighs while his tongue licks every sensitive inch of me. He’s relentless. Grunting, he moves his hands to palm my ass as his tongue continues its assault.
Lick.
Suck.
Moan.
My eyes roll into the back of my head.
My fingers ache from holding the sheets so tightly.
My toes curl into his bare shoulders.
Everything he’s doing makes me writhe. Makes me feel like I’m rising out of my body as the tension builds.
Another lick, and I explode, my vision blurring.
I blink, panting and spent, but I don’t want to stop.
Dax stands, his lips shiny. Smirking, his eyes are hooded as he licks his lips.
My God. Dax Pearson is a fantasy.
No way is this man—this sexy, raw, godly man—real.
“You are so perfect,” he whispers, then tears a wrapper with his teeth. His hair is spiked to the sides from where I ran my fingers through it.
My mouth waters as he rolls the condom on.
He’s inside me with one quick thrust, and our movements become wild again, like we can’t get enough of each other. Like we’re frantically trying to learn each other all over again in a matter of minutes instead of years.
As he moves, he nips at my shoulder, sending me into a new frenzy. Sweating, panting, I move my hips and meet him thrust for thrust.
Moan for moan.
Beat for beat.
Our chests are pressed together, and my hard nipples poke him there, creating friction. Everything he’s doing to me causes me to squirm. I never want him to stop.
He picks up his pace, and my breath hitches as the tension builds again. I cry out louder and louder with every thrust until we fall over the edge together, beautifully.
We watch each other come undone.
It’s magic.
And when he kisses me on the lips, our teeth clash as I feel his smile against mine.
When the sun rises the next morning, birds are chirping through the cracked window. An owl hoots in the distance.
The breeze rustles the leaves.
No cloud in sight.
Coffee is brewing, and the smell wafts in through the open door.
And as he walks around his bedroom, Dax is gloriously naked.
Sighing happily, I snuggle deeper into the sheets clutched to my chest. This bed smells of him. This whole room does, and it makes my stomach flip.
“Are you checking me out?” Dax flings his shirt over his shoulder, and he narrows his eyes at me, his amused grin wide and heartbreaking.
“You have a problem with that?” I quirk my eyebrow.
He moves toward the bed, giving me a full view of how much he likes me checking him out. Kissing me, he moves the covers to slide underneath, and his body crushes mine in the best way.
He swipes my hair from my forehead. Blinking at him, I tilt my head sideways.
It’s daylight.
I peer up at Dax, at his intense eyes, and his tan complexion thanks to the fraction of European in him from his dad’s side. He’s the same Dax I grew up with, but everything’s changed.
He’ll go to work this week, to his regular life, and when I leave here, I’ll go to mine. I’ll go to my son. To my job tomorrow. To my tea dates with my neighbor where we’ll gossip about the latest scandal around town—and by scandal, we mean what coffee of the day the Better Buzz served that was the most popular among the community.
“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he whispers against my cheek, then places a gentle kiss there. His lips linger like he can’t control himself, and it makes me blush.
“Where do we go from here? I mean, are you my boyfriend? Are we dating? Do we start telling people?” I ask in one breath.
“Is that all you’re wondering?” He chuckles, gripping my thigh with his large hand. “What, is it because it’s our third time together? That means we have to label it?”
“Exactly.” My lips twitch. “Once, means it was in the heat of the moment. Second time—you wanted just one more taste. But third—it starts to become a pattern. It’s why they only label murderers as serial killers after the third victim.”
He opens his mouth to respond, but his phone goes off, interrupting him. Squeezing his eyes shut, indecision crosses his demeanor as the ringing phone echoes between us. Finally, it quiets but starts ringing again. “Just one second, please.” He holds his finger up to me, gives me a quick kiss to my forehead, then leaps for his phone.
While he takes his call into the other room, I sit back, wanting to bite my nails. I haven’t been a nail-biter since high school, but right now, my anxious energy is too much.
When Dax doesn’t come back to bed for a few minutes, I stand to get dressed. It’s almost seven o’clock, and my mom will want to return to her own house soon. That way, she has enough time to get ready for work and the brunch crowd.
I’ve just finished tying the belt on my dress when Dax reappears, two travel cups of coffee in each of his hands. He’s also dressed in jeans and a dress shirt, although the buttons are undone.
I instinctively lick my lips. I’ve become this new person I hardly recognize when Dax is involved. I suddenly have the libido of a twenty-one-year-old.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get to… you know.” He glances toward the bed, his jaw clenched, and the thick vein in his neck grows angrier by the second.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He immediately shakes his head. “No. I don’t know. I have to go into work for a couple hours.”
I would think it’s strange for him to go in on a Sunday, but this isn’t the first time, nor will it be the last.
I don’t push him for more information. He hardly ever talks about work, so I’m not surprised he doesn’t go into more detail. From what he’s told me, he likes to keep his personal life separate, and I can understand that. If I dealt with as much pain and death as he did, I’d want to do the same.