Bound to be Dirty

by Savanna Fox

  “Black? With your coloring, you must look fantastic in black. Or how about champagne, to match your skin? You’ll look almost like you’re naked.”

  Black wouldn’t work with the tan dress Dax had brought. Nor the blue and gold one in the shop window . . . “Champagne.”

  The brunette held up a low-cut bra with lace-decorated cups. “This is my favorite. It’s very flattering. Want to try it on?”

  “I don’t have time. It’s a surprise.”

  She winked. “Lucky man. He’s going to have a great New Year’s.”

  “I hope so.”

  The woman picked out a matching thong and garter belt, added sheer stockings, and quickly wrapped them. Lily paid cash to speed things up, and scurried out of the store to find Dax mounting the steps toward it.

  “Hope you’re okay with nine o’clock,” he said. “It was that or five thirty.”

  “Nine sounds great. We can have a late lunch.”

  “Get your panty hose?”

  “I got what I needed.” She couldn’t wait to see his face when he saw her new lingerie. Lily gestured toward the clothing store. “What do you think of the blue and gold dress?”

  He turned to look. “I like it. Try it on.”

  Arm in arm, they entered the store. Lily found the dress in her size and went into a changing room. When she put it on, her breath caught. She looked so feminine and, well, sexy.

  “How is it?” the saleswoman called. “Is the size right?”

  “Perfect. But I need shoes. Size seven.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  A couple of minutes later, Lily gazed at her feet in strappy gold sandals with four-inch heels. She’d never worn shoes like that, but the dress demanded them.

  “Hey there.” This time it was Dax’s voice outside the door. “Do I get a look?”

  She spun, lighthearted, loving how the dress belled out. “Not until tomorrow night.”

  “Tease,” he said, humor in his voice.

  Just wait until he found out about the garter belt and stockings. She wouldn’t say anything until they were eating, then she’d tell him. Maybe she’d raise the hem of her skirt and give him a peek.

  “Do you have the right jewelry?” The saleswoman was back.

  “I’m all set.” Her new pendant and matching earrings would suit the dress.

  She slid off the shoes and unzipped the dress, reluctant to take off a garment that made her feel pretty. But even when she was back in her cable-knit sweater, jeans, and boots, she still felt attractive, with tousled hair, pink cheeks, and bright eyes. She felt healthy, happy, and hopeful. “Three very good H’s,” she murmured.

  Back outside, she slipped her hand into Dax’s. “This was a good idea, coming to Whistler. Now what? Groceries?”

  “Sure. If we’re eating by the fire tonight, how about a picnic?”

  “Picnic?”

  “Yeah. Whatever appeals to us. Fresh-baked French bread and blue cheese.”

  Like they used to do when they were young. “Yum. Greek olives, Brie, grapes.”

  “Salami.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You can have the salami. I’ll take, hmm, maybe rosemary ham.”

  “Barbecued chicken.”

  “I’m with you there. And wine, of course.”

  “White or red?”

  She mused. “How about pink and bubbly?”

  His eyebrows went up. “Since when do you drink pink bubbly?”

  “We’re not doing the usual things, are we?” With a smug grin, she thought of her new dress and lacy lingerie.

  “Pink bubbly it is.”

  “I’m getting hungry. This is why people get fat over the holidays. Too much food and not enough exercise.”

  “I don’t think that’ll be a problem for you. You’re really slim and toned. All that running?”

  “I’ve been doing self-defense classes too.”

  “Self defense is a great idea.” He winked. “Think you can take me?”

  “If I caught you off guard.” Cheerfully, she added, “I could gouge out your eyeballs too.”

  He winced. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

  * * *

  Dusk fell early, making Whistler Village’s holiday lights and decorations even more festive and magical. The temperature dropped sharply, and they speeded their pace, leaving the Village and turning onto the trail, which was lit with a ski resort version of streetlights. Their boots crunched and squeaked against the snowy path, loud in the still night, and the chill seeped through Lily’s coat and sweater. “I’m so not a cold-weather girl.”

  “If you lived in a place like this, you’d have the clothes for it.”

  “Says you, who’s never been cold in your life.” At least she’d never heard him admit to it, and whenever she touched him he gave off heat.

  As they approached their rented cabin, Lily saw that Dax had left the outside light on, and their gingerbread house looked welcoming. He opened the door and they dumped their bags on the bench in the mudroom while they shed shoes and coats. Then they stepped into the living room and yes, it was blissfully warm.

  “I’ll get a fire going,” Dax said.

  “I’ll put away the groceries.” She shivered, far from warmed up yet.

  “I can do that. Go take a shower or bath.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” she said gratefully. Toting her shopping bag, she headed upstairs.

  In a couple of minutes, she was in the shower, hot water streaming over her and penetrating into chilled muscles. What a lovely afternoon it had been, like the early days when it was so easy and fun to be with Dax. Humming, she looked forward to their picnic—and hopefully the second act of the “to be continued” kiss they’d enjoyed earlier.

  Warm and dry, she contemplated her clothing choices. Tonight, she wouldn’t wear same-old, same-old. Deciding that the rose-colored sweater would be perfect for tomorrow morning, she fingered the delicate silk of Kim’s butterfly blouse. It was almost gauzy, which made the blue– and green-shaded butterflies with their gold veining stand out beautifully. She’d have to wear something under it. Fortunately, Dax had packed the powder-blue tank George had given her, and her black yoga pants.

  Once dressed, she added brown mascara and a whisper of blue eye makeup. Her mom might think she looked frivolous, but Lily didn’t give a damn. Dax would approve.

  On slippered feet, she hurried downstairs. Sounds met her: the crackle of burning wood, Savage Garden singing “I Knew I Loved You.” She smelled a hint of wood smoke and a rich, spicy, alcoholic scent. Dax had turned the lights off, so the room was lit only by the blazing fire.

  He crouched beside it, poking at the logs. He still wore jeans but had taken off the heavy sweater he’d worn earlier. A black tee with a stylized helicopter on the back stretched across his powerful shoulders.

  “Savage Garden?” she asked. They’d listened to the Australian duo in their early years together.

  “From the owners’ stack of CDs.” He rose and turned to her. “Wow, look at you. You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.” He glanced down at himself. “And I’m seriously underdressed.”

  She shook her head. “You look gorgeous too.” Dax was so striking, he couldn’t not look great, and the faded jeans and tee with “Born to Fly” across his chest suited him.

  He took two mugs from the stone hearth and handed her one. “Hot rum toddies.”

  The scent was heavenly: rum, lemon, cinnamon, and a hint of something else, maybe nutmeg. She breathed it in then took a cautious sip. The bite of alcohol, the sweet-sour mix of lemon and honey, and the richness of spice. “Mmm, nice.”

  “How’s it compare to your usual martini?”

  “Suits the place, the day. See, I can be flexible.” She took another swallow, feeling the heat and the alcohol slipping down the center of her body. Contentedly, she sank to the large braided rug. “Good job with the fire.”

  Dax joined her, his own mug in hand. “I like fires. When I’m not
staying on-site, like at the mining camp, I always try to rent a place that has one.”

  “A real fire, not gas.”

  “Gas is easier, but it doesn’t compare.”

  “It really doesn’t.” Sipping her toddy, she studied his profile as he gazed into the flames. “What do you do in the evenings when you’re out in the bush?”

  “Read, mostly. The days are demanding. It’s good to sit back and do nothing for a couple of hours. Sometimes I get together with some of the other folks, play cards or watch a game on TV. Go to bed early, get up early.” He stretched his shoulders. “When I have time off during daylight hours, I hike around and explore.”

  “You don’t get tired of being out in the wilderness? I mean, I know you love it, but . . .” But couldn’t he see any virtue to life in the city—a life with her and their children?

  “There are things I miss. Like gourmet takeout.” He studied her face, then took a long swallow of his drink and put his mug on the coffee table. “And you. Wilderness, a fire, and you with me—that’d be pretty much my idea of heaven.”

  She suppressed a sigh. As he knew, while she liked the outdoors, she felt at home in the city. Still, today was great: a blend of spectacular scenery and city amenities, not to mention the dancing fire and the unaccustomed hot rum drink. And Dax. “This,” she said softly. “This, right now, is pretty much my idea of heaven.”

  His gray eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “It’s a fine start.” He touched her hair, framed one side of her face with his hand, and leaned toward her. “My beautiful wife.” His lips touched hers before she could reply.

  It was just a quick brush of lips, and then he pulled away. “Finish your drink so we can do that some more.”

  She obliged, draining the last mouthful of lemony, spicy rum, and put her empty mug next to his. “More, please. I want more kissing.”

  This time, when his lips touched hers, there was no pulling away. She closed her eyes, giving herself over to the kiss. Their tongues met. He tasted of rum and spice, heady and seductive. She must as well. This time, she didn’t want some sex game that pushed the bounds, she wanted only to join with her husband. Right here, in front of the fire.

  He nibbled her lip; she nipped him back. Laughing, their mouths separated as they drew breath. He kissed the corner of her mouth then trailed kisses across her jaw and down her neck. She arched for him and slid her fingers through his thick hair. His lips and short beard brushed sensitive skin, sending arousal quivering through her.

  She steered his head upward so she could kiss him again, and flicked her tongue into his mouth. So good, kissing Dax. She could do it forever, except that those kisses resonated through her whole body, pricking her nipples to tightness, making her sex clench and moisten. She moaned, low in her throat.

  Eighteen

  Lily’s sexy moan sent a fresh surge of arousal through Dax’s body. The afternoon had been great and now here she was, so feminine and sexy in that pretty shirt, letting him know she wanted him.

  Still kissing her, he eased her back to lie on the rug, and leaned over her. He moved from her mouth down her neck, tonguing the rapid beat of her pulse in the hollow at the base of her throat.

  Her fingers tangled in his hair and she pressed herself against his mouth.

  He continued down her body, rolling the flimsy shirt above her breasts so he could suck the hard nubs of her nipples through her blue tank top. With lips and tongue, he teased the bare flesh between the bottom of the tank and the low waistband of her stretchy black pants. He circled her navel then eased the waistband down her flat belly, following it with his tongue, dragging her panties along for the ride. He tugged the clothes off her slim legs, legs toned from running and self-defense workouts.

  So she thought she could take him if he was off guard, did she? That touch of physical cockiness from his refined wife was damned sexy. One day they’d have a mock battle and he’d let her take him down, just to see what she’d do then.

  His cock thrust painfully inside his jeans, but he ignored its demand as he kissed his way up those long legs. Vaguely, he was aware of the music ending, but who needed it when he had the crackle of the fire and Lily’s soft whimpers and moans?

  He could tell so much about her without her speaking a word. Those little sounds telegraphed her growing arousal, as did the twist and thrust of her hips. He knew she’d applied body lotion after her shower from the subtle orange-almond scent of her skin. The fullness of her pussy lips and the glisten of moisture on them said she was hungry for his touch.

  She stretched sinuously. “This feels so good, being naked in front of the fire.”

  “Looks mighty good too.” The firelight cast ever-changing patterns of light and shadow over her pale, supple body.

  His own body felt more than a little overheated, thanks to his arousal and the fire. He stripped off his clothes and breathed a sigh of relief when his cock sprang free.

  Lily watched, hands stacked behind her head. “Now that’s a nice picture.”

  “Not as nice as this one.” With firm hands, he parted her legs so firelight illuminated the glistening pink folds of her sex. He eased down on the rug and teased her with his fingers, lips, and tongue, taking his time. Prolonging release—hers and his own—made for more intense orgasms.

  He pumped two fingers in and out of her moist heat, finding a rhythm that set her hips to twisting, then easing back when her body tightened like she was ready to come. He flicked her clit with his tongue, circled it.

  “Dax, wait.”

  When he lifted his head, she slid out from under him, then turned around and slid back the other way. Now, rather than facing up her body, his head pointed toward her toes. And his genitals were inches from her face.

  She grasped his engorged cock and guided it between her lips, licking the crown and around the shaft, sucking him in. Heat, moisture, and pressure, licks and sucks that made his blood surge. Now she took his balls in her soft, persistent fingers.

  “God, Lily, that feels good.” He buried his face between her legs again, taking up where he’d left off, but with a new urgency. Her mouth on his cock and the gentle pressure of her fingers caressing his balls drove him to the edge. As wonderful as they felt, he didn’t want to climax like this. He wanted to be inside Lily—but not until she came once for him.

  His fingers pumped faster, brushing the sweet spot that made her quiver. He licked and sucked her clit more intently, not easing off now.

  Her body tensed and she stopped sucking his cock, just held it in her mouth as she focused on the sensations gathering inside her.

  Then he took her over the top and she clutched and spasmed around his fingers, pulsing against his mouth. He kept caressing her, slowly and more gently, prolonging her orgasm until the last ripples faded.

  His cock was rigid and it took a lot of self-control not to pump inside her hot, wet mouth, but he managed it. When her tongue circled his shaft again, he eased away.

  “Dax?” Lily gazed at him questioningly.

  He came up on his knees. “I want to be inside you.”

  “I won’t argue with that.” She held up her arms.

  He came down over her, enjoying the way she gathered him in and held him. She raised her knees, tilting her pelvis, and he reached between their bodies to open her lush folds and slide himself inside. Her internal muscles gripped him. They moved together in a slow, pulsing rhythm, each thrust taking him one beat closer to the edge. He rolled, taking her with him, so they lay on their sides facing each other. Her top leg hooked over his hip as she slid closer, taking him deeper.

  Her eyes gleamed in the firelight, a darker blue than usual. He bumped his nose against hers, winning a soft laugh, then took her lips. As they kissed, as their bodies pumped together, he teased her nipple, rolling it between finger and thumb, feeling tiny shudders go through her.

  Those shudders pulsed through him too, and the need to climax built irresistibly. He caressed the dip of her waist,
the curve of her hip, then moved to her clit. Gently, he rolled it the way he’d done her nipple.

  She broke away from his kiss to gasp, “Oh Dax! Oh God, that’s nice.”

  His balls tightened and drew up as his body readied for climax. When Lily began to quake, he let himself go, plunging deep and hard. “God, Lily.”

  “Oh!” she gasped, then “oh yes!” on a rising cry as she came, shuddering and pulsing around him.

  They held each other until the last tiny quiver faded. He kissed her. “There’s something to be said for the old-fashioned way.”

  Her lips curved. “Sometimes classic is best.”

  When he separated his body from hers, she rolled onto her back and stretched, then sat up, wrapping her arms around her bent knees. “The fire could use wood.”

  “I was busy tending a different one.” He pushed himself to his feet.

  “Very efficiently, I must say.”

  He poked what remained of the fire until a few embers burst into flame, and added a couple more pieces of wood.

  Meanwhile, Lily went to the downstairs bathroom. When she returned, she pulled on her clothes. “I’m hungry. Let’s get that picnic organized.”

  “Good idea.” He dressed too, and followed her to the small kitchen.

  She was opening cupboards, assembling plates, glasses, cutlery, so he put the snacks on a serving tray. When he took the loaf of French bread from its bag and reached for a cutting board, she turned to get something and bumped into him. “Oops, sorry,” she said. “I’m used to being alone in the kitchen, since you’re away so much.”

  Before thinking, he responded, “If there was a reason to be home, maybe I’d be there more.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “It’s my fault you’re not home? And, by the way, I didn’t say that as an accusation, just a statement of fact. Your job keeps you away most of the time.”

  It sounded like an accusation, but he kept his voice even. “I thought you supported me doing bush flying.”

  She nodded slowly. “I remember when we first talked about it. You were getting out of the army and you were sick of war, chafing under the discipline of the military. You wanted to fly”—a smile flickered—“somewhere free and pure, you said. In our northern wilderness, not in a war-torn desert. And you wanted to be your own boss. I saw how excited you were about being a freelance bush pilot, Dax. I didn’t realize how much you’d be away, but even if I had, how could I not support you? I was establishing my practice, you were setting up your own business, both of us doing work we loved. It seemed like we were on parallel courses.”