by Lisa Suzanne
Did Scott have feelings for me? The only time he’d even talked to me in the past few weeks was for strictly school-related tasks and the night before when I’d called him in the middle of the night sobbing.
He’d dropped everything to be there for me, and he’d been the friend I’d always known, but then Dax came back. And then everything was different when I’d seen him again earlier that morning. He was back to ignoring me.
Was it because I’d gotten back together with Dax? Was it because Scott couldn’t handle seeing me with another man?
Or was I reading everything totally wrong and giving myself way too much credit?
23
Dax was gone when I got back home, and a tiny part of me felt a little measure of relief. I wasn’t sure I could face him with this brand new information clouding my brain.
The real kicker was that suddenly I found myself in a love triangle.
The dreaded love triangle. Romance enthusiasts either loved them or hated them. I tended to love them, but I knew what the triangle meant.
Someone always got hurt. Inevitably one of the men would be left on his own in the end, and the woman caught in the middle usually suffered a great deal as well.
I hadn’t asked for any of that when I’d started my little social experiment.
There were, however, two Snickers bars and two packages of Twizzlers on the counter with a bottle of wine and a note.
Piper,
A little wine and dine before I make you mine.
Looking forward to tonight.
-Dax
I had to laugh at the cheesiness of his note despite the adorable thought he’d put into it. He was an incredible guy, and I really wanted it to be him. I wanted to push all thoughts of Scott out of my head. He’d been treating me like crap lately, and I deserved better than that. Dax was better than that. He forgave me for lying to him, while Scott just continued to keep secrets from me and ignore me in whatever misguided attempt he was making.
So there it was. I’d made my decision.
Scott was out. Dax was in. If Scott had feelings for me, he’d already resigned himself to staying away from me. So that way I wasn’t really hurting anybody. I was just moving ahead with the same plan I’d had all along.
I sent Dax a text. Thanks for wining and dining me. So romantic.
And then I got to work, shaving and scrubbing for the evening ahead of me.
***
Shannon had a date with the guy from the biker bar, and Scott was busy again—probably with his new girl best friend—so it just Austin and I headed to Emerson’s.
If possible, Dax’s performance at Emerson’s that night was even more erotic than usual. Every move he made caused me to think about how that body would be moving either over or under me in just a few short hours.
His black t-shirt obnoxiously proclaimed “Wine Dine Sixty-Nine,” and I couldn’t help my giggle and ridiculous blush when I’d first noticed it. I felt like it was a secret shout out after that note he’d left me. Not one that I was about to explain to anyone else, obviously.
I’d chosen a white dress and camel colored boots that braced my ankle naturally. I’d polished my nails and curled my hair into a mass of auburn waves. I felt beautiful, even if the white seemed a little virginal given what we had planned for that evening.
All throughout the show, the anticipation built. Every time Dax’s eyes met mine, a tremor of anticipation raced up my spine. My heart was beating fast, my cheeks were flushed, and I was full of lust for the man onstage.
And I wasn’t the only one. Every woman in that place stared up at him with adoration, but the only one he stared back at was me.
I drank in the man who’d be spending the night in my bed, and somehow thoughts of jealousy dissipated into nothing.
When Dax finally joined me at the table Austin and I had found after the bar had cleared out, I was practically panting with excitement. I wasn’t sure if Austin noticed, but it probably would’ve been hard not to. I had a difficult time holding a conversation because my mind focused elsewhere, but I filled him in on my date with the athlete and did my very best to concentrate on Austin’s conversation while I waited.
Dax slid into the booth beside me and tossed an arm around my shoulders. “You ready?” He gazed at me nearly indecently for a public place. His eyes were heated and full of this carnal lust at what was ahead. And his question wasn’t just about me being ready to leave the bar. His question held so much more. It held the promise of what he was about to do to my body, and I was nearly desperate for his touch.
I nodded, sure I’d blow my reputation as someone who wasn’t a total loser if I tried to speak.
He grinned, and I smiled back stupidly. God, he was hot.
“I’m taking off, too,” Austin said, clearly interrupting the private moment we were sharing.
I giggled, and Dax chuckled.
“Then let’s head out,” Dax said, standing from the booth and holding his hand out to help me.
We bid goodnight to Austin, and then Dax opened the passenger door of his sexy Camaro for me. I settled into the soft seat. The car smelled like Dax, and I almost wanted him to bang me right there in the passenger seat.
Maybe someday.
But for tonight…a bed would do just fine.
“Your place or mine?” he asked, sliding into the driver’s seat.
I giggled. “Well, last time we chose my place, I ended up with a sprained ankle.”
“Pretty sure Brody invited half the bar back to our place.”
“Then mine it is. You sure you don’t want to hang out with your friends?” I tried to keep the hopeful tone out of my voice. I didn’t want to be the cause of him missing out on any of his band’s events, but I really, really wanted to take him home with me.
His hand reached over to rest on my thigh. He turned to look at me and then twisted to check behind him before backing out of his parking space. “I’m sure,” he said.
I took a deep breath. I’d had the perfect amount of vodka that I’d feel every inch this perfect man had to offer, but I’d lowered my inhibitions enough not to care what I looked like once my clothes were tossed on the floor.
He drove ten miles per hour over the speed limit the entire way. I sat in the passenger seat and allowed him to make his way around the car to open the door for me as I thought back to the first time I’d ever been in a car with him. And then he helped me out, and his fingers twined loosely through mine as the two of us made our way up to my apartment.
The second the door shut behind us, his lips were on mine.
His mouth was hot and urgent, but he immediately slowed everything down, his tongue flicking smoothly against mine. His hands rested on my hips, and his fingers dug in. And then those hands trailed a slow ascent up my torso, pausing over my ribcage before moving up and landing on my breasts.
My hands were tangled in his hair, and when he squeezed my breasts, I moaned into him.
He groaned and pushed his hips toward me.
Oh my God. Those hips. I couldn’t help my cry of need when his hips thrust toward mine a second time.
I’d been staring at those hips all night when he was on the stage. I’d been checking for his package. I couldn’t help it. I’d had sex on my brain for the past few days, and it all led us to this moment.
He ran his tongue across my bottom lip, and then he dropped his hands from my body and took one of my hands in his. He led me through my apartment to my bedroom.
I lit candles while he turned on music and then we met by the foot of my bed. He smiled down at me for a few beats. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and then he flipped my hair behind my shoulder and leaned down. His lips attached to my neck, and I felt like my legs were going to buckle under me.
Maybe they did, because he chuckled and helped me sit on the bed.
He sat on the floor in front of me and unzipped one of my boots, pulling it off of my foot and setting it beside me. Then he worked the zipper o
n the other one carefully, each move painfully slow and gentle with my sprained ankle. He smiled up at me when he saw I was wearing the brace he’d bought for me under my boots. He unlaced it and took it off, and then he gently kissed the bruised skin that had started turning from purple to green.
His lips made their way up my leg. I was really glad I’d spent the extra time to use shaving cream instead of just soap. My legs were silky smooth for the man whose tongue worked from my shin up toward my knee.
He sat up on his knees and I leaned forward to pull his head toward my chest. I breathed him in. Somehow he managed to smell perfect even after a performance on stage. I wondered if Emerson’s had a shower in the back. I didn’t know how he was able to smell so good after spending two hours under the hot lights as he moved around the stage.
He chuckled. “A white dress? Seems a little…innocent, doesn’t it?”
I giggled. “I feel pretty in it.”
He leaned back and looked up at me. “You should. You should feel more than pretty. You should feel gorgeous. Flawless. Stunning. Because that’s what you are.”
I flushed, and he pulled me to my feet, careful to hold onto me so I didn’t put my weight on my ankle without the brace.
“It’s a very nice dress, Piper, but I think it would look much better right over there.” He pointed toward the floor.
I raised my eyebrows at him, and his eyes sparkled with desire. He ran his fingertips down my arms and I shivered.
He continued to travel downward until he landed at the hem of my dress. His eyes looked into mine, a silent question, and I nodded.
He pulled my dress up and over my head, and then he set it on the floor beside us. He hissed in a breath through his teeth as his eyes feasted on me.
I’d chosen a lacy white panty and bra set. I didn’t own a lot of lingerie, and I almost never wore it, but I’d always found this set to be particularly sexy.
Apparently Dax concurred.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispered.
I reached to the hem of his “Wine Dine Sixty-Nine” shirt and pulled it over his head. I ran my fingertips across his chiseled abdomen, mostly because I could. The moment called for it. All the other times he’d stood in front of me without his shirt on, I couldn’t do anything but stare. This was mine now. My playground.
“You’re perfect,” I said softly, and a low growl escaped his lips.
He picked me up in his arms and tossed me gently onto the bed, and then he stripped out of his jeans. He stood in front of me in just a pair of black boxer shorts.
He started at the foot of the bed and crawled his way up toward me. His lips met mine, and then he pulled back. He stood and made his way over to his jeans, and then he pulled two foil packages out of the back pocket.
“Always prepared,” I murmured.
“Someone should be.”
I giggled, and he tossed the protection on the night table before he settled back onto the bed next to me. He leaned over to kiss me, his mouth moving slowly over mine in that way he had. He was such a good kisser, so good at building the excitement between us until the ache in my core was almost unbearable just from his mouth on mine.
He made quick work of my lingerie and his own boxers, and my breath caught in my throat at the perfectly formed male body in front of me. I’d never seen anything so structurally perfect. He was truly a work of art. Every plane of his physique was smooth and proportionate.
Except that one thing. That was disproportionately large.
I watched as he fastened a condom over the rather large appendage, my mouth watering all of the sudden.
I stared. I ogled. I beamed. I drank him in with a deep hunger only he could satisfy.
I would never get my fill of him. And then he crawled up the bed toward me until he hovered right over me. He positioned himself at my entrance and thrust into me, literally filling me as his eyes remained on mine. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back as I wrapped my arms around him and scratched my nails down his back. One of my hands found the back of his neck, and I pulled his mouth down to mine.
While his kisses were slow and passionate, his lovemaking was anything but slow. He slammed into me like his body was made for sex. He was a machine.
He hit all the right spots inside of me while one of his hands dragged and lingered across every pleasure point on my body.
Our mouths disconnected from his punishing drives. I yelled out his name in pleasure as my hips reached up to meet his deep drives. He growled out, “You’re so fucking good.”
I’d been with men who’d said some naughty things in the heat of the moment, but somehow the words out of Dax’s mouth weren’t just talk. They were heated and passionate pleas as his lips found my neck.
“Tell me what you want,” he groaned against my skin.
I moaned back as my nails dug into his back, “You. I want you.”
“I’m gonna lose it. It’s too good, too fucking good.”
When he said that word again, “good,” it brought me right to the precipice. I knew what it meant to him, and it meant something to me, too.
He stilled inside of me. “Go with me,” he whispered, leaning up on one elbow to look into my eyes.
I nodded, staring up at him as we created this basic and instinctual carnal connection. He reached behind him to grab one of my hands scratching down his back, and he pushed my hand above my head and laced his fingers through mine.
He pulled back and pushed forward, and it was only a few more drives before we both went flying off the edge together.
A string of curse words flew out of my mouth along with my cries of ecstasy. He took me up in the moment and threw me out on the other side, and I felt dizzy and faint. Every part of my body was weak as Dax collapsed on top of me. I couldn’t even lift an arm to hold him because I was so thoroughly sated and wrung out.
And apparently he felt the same way. He pulled his hips back enough to pull out of me, but his body lay across mine for countless minutes. We both dozed afterward, lost in the bliss and the feel of each other.
It really felt like one of the most perfect moments of my life. I never wanted him to move. I never wanted to stop breathing in his scent that washed over me. It was all over me after he had been all over me.
***
I vaguely remembered Dax detangling himself from me and leaving the bed for a few minutes, presumably to clean up, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t remember a time in my life I’d been so completely worn out after sex. But like the t-shirt he’d worn on the night I met him, he was most definitely a sex machine.
When morning came, we were both naked in my bed. He held me around my waist, and I could feel the hard planes of muscle and heat right behind me. I shifted to look at him.
I relaxed for a while, my eyes on the gorgeous man in the bed beside me. I reflected on our night. We definitely had the carnal connection down pat. I’d never felt so sexually connected to a man before.
I had strong feelings for him, and the night before only solidified that. I liked him a lot. I could see it morphing into more than that someday down the road. I wondered where his head was at, but I wasn’t ready to overanalyze everything. I wanted to just enjoy the moment, enjoy the peace that came with waking up next to someone I really cared about.
His eyes fluttered open, and he smiled sleepily at me as he caught me gazing at him. My initial reaction was to feel embarrassment that I’d been caught, but then I sort of realized I didn’t care. I liked staring at him, and I’d already admitted that to him.
“Hey,” he said, greeting me to a new day.
“Hey.”
“Last night was good.”
“So good,” I agreed, grinning at him.
“We’re both still naked,” he pointed out. “Seems like it would be a waste to be naked next to each other and not do anything about it.”
A ripple of heat coursed through my system. “It does seem like it would be a waste.”
“I’d hate to
be wasteful.” He pushed his hips in my direction.
And after a decent night’s sleep in his arms, I was ready to go again, too.
I climbed up over him after he fastened on a condom. He guided himself inside of me, and then he dug his hands into my hips as we started moving together. It was every bit as hot as the night before—just without all of the kissing. Kissing in the morning was never a good idea, but sex in the morning?
Definitely a good idea.
We stayed in bed until my stomach growled and Dax insisted on making me breakfast. I didn’t have much around, but he made me the most perfect bowl of Cheerios with just the exact right amount of milk. And when he smiled lasciviously at me after we both finished eating and I cleaned up my kitchen in just my panties and Dax’s t-shirt, I realized we needed to hit the store for more condoms.
I reluctantly handed him his shirt back since he didn’t have any other clothes, laced up my ankle brace and put on some clothes, and then we headed out for the short walk around the corner to CVS.
Dax’s arm draped loosely around my shoulders as we walked through the doors. “Do you mind if I pick up a few things while we’re here?” I asked.
He shook his head, and I figured he’d grab the condoms, I’d grab my things, and we’d be on our way.
But that’s not what happened.
Acting ever the part of the sweet boyfriend—because that’s what he was becoming—Dax followed me around the store.
We picked up my favorite Neutrogena lotion. We took our time looking at the many different types of facial cleansers, even though I knew I’d leave with my usual. I picked out a new nail polish. We headed to the snack aisle, and I stocked up on Cheerios and microwave popcorn.
We perused the condom aisle, and it wasn’t even awkward to pick up a box together. In fact, it was kind of hot. Especially when Dax picked up and inspected a bottle of massage gel and lubricant. I wanted to be embarrassed, but I just couldn’t be. My mouth instantly dried up—ironic, given what we were looking at—and I felt the beginning of an ache deep down in my core.
I wanted Dax.
In the middle of the contraceptive aisle at CVS Pharmacy.
