Sweet Words

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Sweet Words Page 2

by Nikki Winter


  “When you and Rod first started...I dunno...dating, how exactly did he go about it? I mean what made you want him?”

  Vic's smile was so warm, her eyes looking at something that he couldn't see, but from the expression on her face he could feel it. This was a woman in love. “Ah...my Roderick is a take and conquer kinda guy, if you haven't noticed. All alpha, all the time.”

  “And that didn't scare you?”

  “Oh yeah, it most definitely did, but that had more to do with me than him. It freaked me out that every time he got like that something softened in me and, dare I say it, wanted to submit.” She shuddered. “Not that insane crap that happens in some relationships where one spouse gets run over by the other, but not having to be strong all the time or depend on myself...that's what I wanted but couldn't say. When you're stubborn as hell and the only daughter of an ex-Marine, you know and learn how to do things on your own because you never wanna have to depend on anyone, but Rod made it easy. Okay, that was a lie. He made it hard as hell because he'd just rush in instead of consulting me first.”

  She sighed and then smiled a bit. “But in the end I learned to stop fighting it so much because it led to nothing but us going in circles. Now I have this insane male who’s everything I could ever want and who keeps managing to get me knocked up.”

  Dex snorted.

  Her eyes searched his face before she said, “But what made me want him was the fact that he was him. Rod may be an asshole at times, but he fully embraces it and doesn't give a damn if anybody else has a problem with it—except me, of course, because he knows I'll kill him in his sleep.” Vic stopped and looked at him head-on. “Are you holding back on Harlow because you think you'll scare her away? Because I've gotta tell yah, she seemed mighty pissed that she wasn't partaking in some Dex-style loving.”

  He cracked a smile but answered her question. “I don't wanna turn her off by going all...”

  “He-man?” Vic nodded her understanding. “Sweetheart, I'm gonna tell you something and I want you to accept it, okay?”

  “All right.” He answered slowly, curious now.

  Placing her hands on his shoulders, she made sure he was staring her straight in the eyes. “You're a Southerner, baby boy. That means that subtlety and slow operation aren't in your genetic code. You weren't built like a brick shit house to sit on the sidelines and watch everyone else conquer. Dexter Franklin, you're an alpha. That's in your genetic code. It's a part of who you are whether you want to admit it or not.”

  She tugged his ears. “I get that it scares you, but you've gotta stop being chicken-shit.”

  “Pregnancy has made you meaner than you were. That scares me,” Dex said, making the saddest face he could muster.

  “Allow me to get a nine-pound weight and drop it on your bladder for hours and hours a day; then we can see how nice you feel,” she said sweetly.

  “Um...no thanks.”

  “Okay, then shut the hell up and listen. If you don't snatch Harlow up someone else will, because let’s face it, the woman is someone's wet dream come true.”

  “That's such a wonderful way to compliment her.”

  She popped the side of his head. “Do you want another man making her moan and scream and come like a freight train?”

  “If I get to take him apart and put him back together just to take him apart again. Scratch that, I'd put him on a spit like a pig before he even got the chance.” He growled.

  Grinning, Vic clapped her hands. “There it is! There's the alpha! Now take that and use it!”

  Still skeptical, he shrugged. “Okay, I'll try.”

  “Good.”

  “Victory!”

  Both their heads snapped up at Rod's bellow. He hadn't reached the barn yet, but they knew he was close. “Oh shit!” Vic tried to scramble up, but she must have forgotten about the beach ball full of baby attached to the front of her.

  He laughed as she tried repeatedly, without success, to get up. “Help me, jackass!” Vic said, slapping at his shoulders.

  Still chuckling, he lent her a hand. Vic got up as quickly as she could and waddled toward the back exit. “Lemme know how everything goes!” she threw over her shoulder as she left.

  “She moves pretty quick for a pregnant lady,” Dex muttered.

  “Have you seen Vic?” Rod asked, finally making it into the barn.

  “She waddled that way,” he answered, pointing in the direction she'd gone.

  “Dammit! I told her to keep her pregnant ass close to the house!” Rod growled, heading out after her.

  Dex shook his head and thought about what Vic had told him. Nodding, he left the barn. “Time to really put those stories to use.”

  And it All Starts

  Harlow was in a bad mood. Wait, no, that wasn't an accurate description. She was pissed. Three days. Three freaking days he'd been avoiding her. All for what? Shaking her head, she leaned against her station's counter and thought of different ways she could maim Dexter Franklin as she watched a few stragglers mull about the library. It was about fifteen minutes from closing time, and she couldn't wait to get the hell home. She'd just managed to get to a lovely fantasy of shoving a stiletto-clad foot up his ass when a paper bag, with some of the most delicious smells known to man floating from it, was set in front of her as one large arm slowly threaded around her waist.

  “You mad at me?”

  Harlow really, truly hated the way her nipples went all hard and started stinging when that low, smooth voice reached her ears. “What's in the bag?” she asked, instead of answering his question.

  “Louisiana-style gumbo with fresh-baked French bread and red velvet cheesecake for dessert.” One large palm splayed across her belly and pulled her back until they were pressed together. “I asked if you were mad at me.”

  “And I could answer if I were talking to you, but I'm not because you're an asshole,” she whispered.

  “So I take it you're mad at me.” His tone was amused as he walked them forward and closer to the counter.

  “You broke our routine.” Could he tell she was hurt? Because she was. Three days without Dexter was something she never wanted to experience again.

  His other arm came up and around her as he squeezed her closer, and Harlow gasped when she felt something akin to the size and width of a cucumber pressing into her ass. “I know.” He kissed her temple as his hands slid down her legs and slowly gathered the bottom of the knee-length skirt she'd been wearing, dragging it up.

  She knew no one could see them due to the fact that the counter blocked both their bodies from the stomach down, but she grabbed his wrists anyway. “Dex, what're you doing?”

  He easily got out of her loose hold and answered, “Apologizing.” His palms touched the bare skin of her thighs and dragged upward.

  “I'm at work, Dex.”

  “Scared somebody's gonna see us?” he questioned, nuzzling the side of her neck before he found that sweet spot on her right shoulder and bit down ever so gently. Harlow's exhale left her in a hiss of air as her hands reached for the counter, trying to find some form of an anchor.

  He grunted before commanding, “Keep 'em there. If you move them, I will stop.”

  “Dex...”

  “Hush, I'm working here.” She finally felt his hand slide in a maddeningly slow pace as it reached her panties. When he stopped, she started to turn around, but his softly murmured “Unh-unh” made her stop.

  Harlow's knees almost buckled when those large hands made their way around her waist and to her ass, but she kept her eyes forward, watching as the few people who'd been there started filing out. His growl was deep when he asked, “Have you been wearing scraps of nothing like this every day?”

  Since her mouth was full of cotton, she decided to just nod, knowing he was referring to the pink lace thong she was wearing. Dex's palm colliding with her ass made her jump.

  “When I ask you something I want an answer, not a nod. Understand?”

  Well shit... “Yes,” she
croaked. Who was this woman, and what had she done with Harlow? Right about now she should've been beating the living shit out of Dex, but she was too busy trying to keep herself from begging him to take her. That was so not normal.

  “Good. It's closing time, which means I can lock the doors. Don't move,” he commanded as he walked off.

  Don't move? She was bent across a counter with her ass out, and she wasn't supposed to move? Out of pure defiance, she stood up straight and started to pull her skirt back down so she could go cuss Dexter one good time, but she found him standing a few feet away and glaring.

  “What did I say?” he queried, raising one brow.

  “I don't care what you said, and more importantly I'm pissed at you, so keep your hands off my person before I break them.”

  She couldn't exactly pinpoint the look that slowly took over his features, but it was enough to make her back up as he walked forward. After taking off his Stetson and putting it down, he began to slowly unbutton his chambray shirt, and she swallowed hard.

  “I think we've got a failure to communicate here, baby,” he stated, steadily unbuttoning that shirt, revealing all that hard, sculpted upper body inch by inch. Harlow's breaths became harder and harder to get out.

  “And why is that?” she finally asked, her eyes firmly glued to his body.

  “You thought I was making a request while in actuality that was a demand.” Calmly he put that shirt with his hat, and his hands went to his belt buckle. He didn't take it off, just undid it along with the top button of his jeans. “And while I've played it safe and calm, that's getting me nowhere, which means I have to take a whole new approach.” His gait was easy as he made his way toward her.

  “And what's that?” She was trying desperately to stop shaking…without success.

  “To stop fighting what's a basic part of me. That starts now, and it starts with you.”

  Since she had no response for that, she promptly shut her mouth.

  ***

  If he didn't know any better, he'd think he’d broken her, but this was Harlow he was talking about. She'd come up with a snappy remark eventually. Right now, though, he was on a roll and didn't really care if she spoke unless it involved screaming his name. Dex found that not holding back was way easier then he thought it'd be, and watching his woman, because she was in fact his woman, stare at him with pure lust just made it all worthwhile.

  Reaching her again, he took her glasses off and placed them on the counter and then pulled her spaghetti tank over her head. “I was gonna take this nice and easy,” he said as his hands then went to her skirt and pushed it down her hips. His eyes roamed back up, taking in her fifties pin-up girl curves as he tried to figure out exactly where to start first. Then something occurred to him... “Fuck nice and easy.” He didn't bother unhooking the pink lace bra or matching thong; he just snatched them off like one would a tablecloth from under flatware—and the gift he got in return was enough to bring him to his knees.

  “Spread your legs,” he commanded hoarsely.

  Harlow whimpered. “Dex...”

  “I said spread them,” he growled.

  He watched her shudder before she did what he said and groaned. “God, baby, do you have any idea how many nights I sat up thinking about having you like this?”

  He trailed his hands from her collarbone to the globes of her breasts and rotated his palms against her nipples, enjoying the way her hips jerked forward. His right hand made its way to her back and then slid over the beautifully formed globes of her ass, stopping to give a squeeze to both before coming back to her opened thighs. The smell of her was driving him crazy. Did this woman not understand the power she had over him? Didn't she get that he wouldn't trade being on his knees for her like this for anything in the world?

  Three days without her had been three days of hell, but he was about to remedy that. Using his forefinger and middle finger, he slid them between the wet folds of her sex, almost grinning when she groaned and jerked forward again. He pulled back, knowing that the tease was just as pleasurable as what he was about to do. “So wet,” Dex murmured. “Is all this just for me, baby?” Looking up, he watched her bite her bottom lip and nod.

  “What did I say about nodding?” His hand reached around to tap her ass, and she croaked, “Yes, its all for you.”

  That was all he needed to hear. “Good,” Dex grunted before he thrust two fingers inside of her and leaned forward to wrap his lips around her clit. She felt so good and tasted even better. There was no stopping himself from giving her the pleasure that she so obviously craved. His hand easily turned and found her g-spot, stimulating it along with his tongue's ministrations to her tiny bundle of nerves. Her broken wail and the way her sheath tightened and then overflowed was enough to tell him he'd accomplished mission number one. Now it was time for mission number two: Get inside her or die.

  ***

  She was being lifted and carried. To where and for what reason she couldn't say, because she didn't know. Breathing was imperative, necessary because this man had stolen the air from her lungs. Harlow knew he'd come prepared when she felt something soft and cushioned at her back as he laid her out on the floor.

  “Harlow.”

  Her eyes snapped open at his voice, staring directly into the hazel orbs that had once seemed so unsure and boyish. Now they stared down at her with a possessiveness that should've scared her but did nothing except turn her on more. “Yes.”

  “You're mine, and if another man who isn't in your same gene pool ever touches you, I'll snap him in half like a number two pencil and have no regrets. Are we clear?”

  What was she supposed to say to that except for, “Yes.”

  Dex nodded. “Good.” And that was when she felt the head of his cock just waiting for entrance inside her. “I plan on taking you now. Any objections?”

  Of course her answer was, “No.”

  He nodded and said, “Good” all over again before he slammed inside her so hard that they slid a foot away from their original positions. As an anchor he took his forearms and put them beneath her knees, spreading her out just that much further for him.

  “Dex,” she managed to gasp out.

  “Get used to saying that name, baby, because it'll be leaving your lips a lot more.” He eased out once more before slamming back in all over again, his hips establishing a rhythm that she could only try to keep up with.

  “Fuck...”

  “Exactly, baby.” He bent over her, now pressing her legs back and tunneling his cock in deeper until she could only try to breathe normally.

  “Dex...”

  “Say it again.” His hips rotated one way and then the other in a slow grind that allowed his pelvis to meld with hers and rub directly against her clit.

  “Dex...”

  “Again!”

  “Dex!”

  “Damn right! Who’s loving you so good?!”

  “You!”

  “And who’s about to make you come?!”

  “You, you, you, just please don't stop.”

  “Never, baby, never.” He grunted, pumping harder.

  Harlow could feel the tension slowly build from the base of her spine on up until it spread through her hips and belly, branching out down her legs and even causing her toes to tingle right before she came hard enough that all she saw was bright lights. Dex's roar of satisfaction soon followed. When he gently lowered himself on top of her, still between her thighs as his head rested on her breasts, she could do nothing but weakly run her fingers through his dirty blond hair and whisper, “Apology accepted.”

  With Some

  How was it possible that something so simple felt so good? Dex had himself a damn good comfortable position spooning his woman, all that luscious ass pressed right into him, her soft inhalations letting him know she was sleeping off their recent activities. Taking a deep breath, he let it out with a contented sigh. Sleeping was the last thing on his mind currently. No, trying to figure out the best way of letting Harl
ow know she'd be his wife was. He could approach this one of two ways: he could phrase it as a question, or he could just simply tell her she'd be his wife. Either one was fine with him as long as she knew that she was going to be his wife.

  “Your thinking is interrupting my sleeping,” Harlow murmured, tapping his hip.

  Snorting, he snuggled in closer and snaked a hand from her waist in between her thighs. “Open,” Dex growled in her ear. She shivered but did as he demanded. “I'm up thinking because I've got something really important to tell you, and I want you to listen closely. If I think for one moment you're not paying attention, then I stop. Understand?”

  “Yes.” The word was said softly, as if she were desperately trying to ignore his fingers as he took the tip of his middle finger and encircled her clit while his other hand easily found the hard buds of her nipples and tugged. In the next instant her head dropped forward with a groan.

  “I'm not perfect, Harlow,” he whispered against her ear, tugging at the lobe. “I'll do my damnedest to make sure that you wake up with a smile every single day, but you have to give me the chance. Hear?”

  “Unh-huh,” she stuttered out.

  “I don't want anyone but you. There's nobody else who makes me feel the way you do. Nobody else understands me the way that you do, and no one could ever make me as happy as you do.” He easily widened her thighs and put her left leg over his hip, turning his hand to thrust two fingers inside her. Harlow gasped and gripped his forearm, her short nails biting into his skin as her back arched.

  “I love you,” Dex said against her ear. “Will you marry me?”

  “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

  He chuckled. “Are you coming or answering me?”

  “Both!”

  Grinning, he answered, “Good,” and then thrust inside her as deep as he could go.

  She groaned out, “Dex, I love you too,” as she came again, and that pushed him right over the edge with her.

  Sweet Words

  Five years later...

  “Daddy!” Dex tried really hard to ignore the tugging on his pants’ legs, the tugging on his hair, his ears and his nose.

 

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