Dirty Dix (Hard Love Romance #1)

by Monica James

  “Well, see ya,” she says with a wave, when I don’t say anything.

  “Oh, yeah, okay, bye.” I find myself wanting to ask her what time she gets off, but I don’t.

  I just watch as she makes her way into the kitchen, leaving me to once again question what the hell that was.

  6

  Like an Animal

  DIXON

  It’s Friday, and my week has thankfully remained drama free since Monday. I intend to keep it that way.

  Juliet’s very public display of self-gratification has definitely been an inspirational vision to accompany my jacking off, but funnily enough, so has Madison’s innocent pink bra. I’m attracted to both women, but for entirely different reasons. It’s not as simple and clear cut as this, but I’m drawn to Madison’s innocence while I’m enticed by Juliet’s depravity.

  I haven’t really figured either of them out yet, but now that I know Madison works Mondays, I intend to pay her a visit and try to get to know her better. As for Juliet, I’m actually a little afraid to get to know her better; I have a feeling the real Juliet Harte would eat me alive for breakfast.

  The phone thankfully interrupts my thoughts, and I answer on the third ring.

  “Hello, this is Dr. Mathews.”

  “Dixon, my friend, how are you?” says Chad Turner, who is on the Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences board.

  “Hello, Chad. I’m great, thank you. To what do I owe this pleasure?” I ask, getting straight to the point, because this isn’t a social call.

  Chad chuckles, no doubt appreciating my forwardness, as neither of us are one for small talk. “Dixon, I’m calling because I would like to extend a formal invitation for you to attend our annual Gerald Harriet’s Fellowship Award night, which will be held later in the year.”

  I take a moment to process what he just said, as this is big. I’ve been trying to get an invite to this prestigious ceremony for years, but I’ve always missed out.

  Without further delay, I reply, “Chad, I would be absolutely honored. Thank you.” And I mean every word.

  But I can’t help but wonder why this year is different.

  Chad must be able to read my confusion as he quickly clarifies, “Although you’re not in the running for the award this year, your research on neurobiology and addiction hasn’t gone unnoticed by the board. You keep it up, and next year, you’ve got a real good shot at being a strong contender.”

  It’s every doctor’s dream to be invited to this event, but the hint of possibly being nominated next year is phenomenal.

  Keeping my calm, however, I reply, “Well, I better ensure I keep up the good work. Please send all information to my office, and I’ll make sure to RSVP by the date.”

  “Excellent. I look forward to seeing you there,” Chad says happily. “Keep up the good work, Dixon. We’re keeping a close eye on you.” He hangs up before I have a chance to reply.

  Holy shit, this is beyond amazing. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine that me, Dixon Mathews, the only son of an Italian migrant family, would get this opportunity. I think this calls for a celebration.

  Reaching for my phone, an unexpected thought occurs to me. Chad did say they’re keeping a close eye on me. And yes, I’ve mostly kept my nose clean, but this situation with Ms. Harte could certainly turn ugly and taint my career if it ever got out.

  What happened earlier in the week would definitely result in my license being revoked for unethical conduct. I’ve worked hard to maintain the noteworthy position I’m currently in, and I cannot, or rather, I will not allow my cock to fuck up something I’ve worked too hard to achieve.

  With a defeated sigh, I lift the receiver and page Susanna.

  “Dr. Mathews?”

  “Hello, Ms. Vale. There’s a patient I need you to contact.”

  “Of course. Who might that be?”

  Taking a muted breath, I reply, “Ms. Juliet Harte.”

  “What would you like me to tell her?” Susanna innocently inquires.

  Ignoring the pang of regret, I sigh. “Please let her know I can no longer treat her, and pass on Dr. Geo’s details.”

  “Not a problem, Dr. Mathews. Is there anything else you would like me to say?”

  There are a thousand things I wish I could say. But this is for the best.

  “No, Ms. Vale. Let’s leave it at that.”

  * * *

  Friday night drinks are what get me through the week, and after today’s news, I can’t wait to kick back and have a few beers with the boys to celebrate my good fortune.

  “If I may, I would like to propose a toast to my good friend, Dr. Dixon Mathews, who may be a womanizing jerk at times—” I roll my eyes, but listen to Hunter’s heartfelt speech “—but he’s shown great restraint by saying hell no to the foxy nympho to save his career. Some may say he’s gone crazy, or maybe even turned a little soft, but I’m proud of him for putting his blue balls in his suitcase, and focusing on what’s important.”

  “Amen!” Finch butts in, raising his glass of Coke.

  “Thanks. I think.” We clink glasses, and I take a well-deserved sip.

  I’ve told them about my decision to no longer see Juliet, and they were both in agreement that it’s for the best.

  “So, now that McSlutty Slut is outta your life, are you gonna cuddle up to that cute little brunette from the other night?” Hunter asks, waggling his eyebrows.

  “McSlutty Slut? Jesus, that’s a little rough.”

  Hunter shrugs. “I call ’em as I see’em.”

  “Well, if everyone lived by your rules, whatever do you think they’d call you?” I ask, smiling.

  “They’d call me Hunter…the God of fuck.”

  I chuckle, while Finch rolls his eyes.

  “Stop changing the subject, you pussy. So, the brunette? What are your plans?” He rubs his hands together mischievously.

  After bumping into Madison the other day, the boys have been on my case to go visit her. Both Hunter and Finch commented on some weird “love eyes” I had while looking at her—I honestly have no idea where they come up with this shit. But truthfully, I have been thinking about her, and I do plan on visiting her soon, just not right away.

  I don’t want to come across as desperate, or come on too strong, so I’ll keep my cards close to my chest for now.

  Sick of being the lab rat for the evening, I ask with a wink, “So, how about you, Hunter? Passing for Chris Hemsworth’s brother surely helps with the ladies.”

  Hunter takes a sip of beer, shaking his head. “He already has a brother, and if the ladies he attracts are any indication of what’s headed my way, I’m more than happy to keep flying solo.”

  I know he’s trying to be funny, but the tension around his eyes reveals something is off. I decide to drop it for now, but make a note to ask him later when he’s drunk and in a sharing mood.

  “So basically, this scrawny little fucker is the only one who’s getting laid. How sad is that?” Hunter gags, while I thump Finch on the back.

  “Way to go, Finch. You and Heidi planning on practicing for baby number two?” I ask, nudging him in the ribs.

  Finch blushes, and I can’t help but laugh. He really is too easy to tease.

  “How’s Heidi’s…?” Hunter motions to the front of his chest with a disgustingly perverted smirk.

  Finch pales.

  “I would appreciate you not talking about my wife and her breasts,” he whispers, “in that way.”

  “What way?” Hunter asks, his mouth tipping up into a mischievous smile. “I could have said how’s Heidi’s babyfeeders, cans, jugs, knockers, airbags, coconuts, funbags, tatas or wopbopaloobops, but I didn’t. And besides, I could have been talking about the new knitted sweater I saw her wearing last week. Sheesh, you’re a sick, perverted bastard, thinking about sex all the time.”

  Finch shakes his head with a disgusted frown, while I howl in laughter, blessing the day I met these clowns.

  * * *

  After
one too many scotches, Finch is begging Hunter and me not to become lion tamers, but the idea is really ingenious, and I can’t believe I haven’t thought of it sooner.

  “You, my man, are too uptight,” Hunter slurs, straddling the statue lion, which is standing proud and tall outside the library. “You need to loosen up.” He strokes his cheek over the concreted mane, sighing contently.

  Everything is so much funnier when you’re slightly inebriated, and Hunter and I are getting to the stage where almost everything is funny.

  “Guys, get off the damn lion!” Finch pleads, while Hunter and I ride the statue proudly.

  “Let me ride this big pussy in peace,” Hunter playfully retorts, while I lose my balance and fall onto my ass, laughing rowdily.

  “Dixon?” a familiar voice asks in shock.

  My laughing abruptly dies the moment I hear her, and any hilarity gets caught in my throat as the voice I’ve been trying so hard to forget addresses me once again.

  “Dixon, are you okay?”

  Closing my eyes, I count to three before calmly opening them, and I attempt to not keel over when I see the beautiful face of my ex-fiancée. My heart beats against my ribcage frantically, as the organ is beyond elated to see her again. My brain, however, knocks some sense into my whimsical center, and I harden the fuck up.

  Standing to full height, I ignore the fact I’m completely drunk and my shirt and tie are askew as I offhandedly reply, “Hi, Lily.”

  Looking down at my leather shoes, I sigh, as I see I’ve stepped in pink gum. I look like a total slob, but Lily looks immaculate, as usual.

  She’s in a tight black dress which stops mid-thigh. Memories of how those long tanned legs wrapped around my neck while I ate her out for hours assault my brain. However, as my glance falls to her face, I see a silver tiara entangled in her long blonde curls. I can’t help but think how out of character a tacky gimmick like this is for her. But then my daft brain registers the fact she’s wearing a bright pink sash with the big, glittery words “Bride to Be.”

  The simple phrase may as well have just told me to go fuck myself, and highlight what a failure I am.

  Suddenly, I realize the date, and remember it would have been our one-year anniversary this weekend. But instead of mourning, or looking remotely reflective, Lily is out celebrating her bachelorette party, looking absolutely stunning and happy.

  She doesn’t seem at all bothered that she would have been my bride-to-be a year ago. She doesn’t even appear to care that this is the first time she’s seen me in so many months. She simply doesn’t care that she tore out my heart and left me a shell of who I once was. I gave her my all, and it still wasn’t good enough.

  I wasn’t good enough. But my best friend was.

  However, lifting my head in pride, I snicker, making a point of looking at her sash. “Congratulations. I hope he can provide you everything that I couldn’t.”

  “Dixon, wait!”

  “Wait for what?” I spit, hands out wide. “For you to tell me how happy you are?”

  “I’m s—”

  Before she can finish, I cut her off because if I hear the word “sorry” pass through her deceitful lips, I just may hurl. “Save your excuses for your husband.”

  “Dixon!” she pleads, reaching out for me.

  But I storm down the stairs, ignoring the calls of my best friends. I also ignore the wounded look on my ex-lover’s face. But she can go to hell, as I’ve been wearing that same look since the day she walked out on me.

  I simply ignore everything and focus on the only thing that makes a lick of sense.

  * * *

  I shouldn’t be here. But this was the first place I thought of running to.

  I don’t know how to deal with these pent-up feelings. I never have. Other people’s feelings, I know how to resolve, but when it comes to me, I just want to forget.

  Even for a stolen moment, I just want to forget how much it hurts to love someone who doesn’t love you back.

  My fist pounding against the door is in sync with my hammering heart, and the moment it opens, the primitive animal comes roaring out of me and I attack.

  “Dr. Mathews? Are you okay?” Juliet gasps, taking a step backward, her eyes widening in surprise.

  “It’s Dixon,” I growl and barge into her apartment, kicking the door shut behind me.

  We stare at one another, the air sizzling with an intense, electrical current as we engage in the ultimate standoff. Juliet appears confused, but she remains silent, awaiting my next move. Before she has a moment to protest, I pounce on her, smashing my ravenous mouth to hers. She hesitates for a fraction of a second, but then it’s game on.

  We tackle one another, both demanding dominance over the other, but I willingly submit when she violently unclasps my belt buckle and shoves her hand down my pants, palming my hot erection. I’ve gone commando, so she goes straight in for the kill and hungrily begins stroking me, her small hand barely wrapping around my straining shaft.

  I pump forward, my hips jerking frantically, needing the friction to be harder and faster, and thank fuck, Juliet complies, her wicked fingers pumping with vigor. I’m about five seconds away from coming in her hand, so I pull away, because when I explode, it’s going to be inside of her.

  I push her backward and she stares at me breathlessly, anticipating what happens next.

  Reaching for the low neckline of her black lace slip, I rip it down the middle, letting it glide away like melted butter from her hot little body.

  I take a moment to appreciate the sight of pure perfection in front of me, and just when I thought my hard-on couldn’t get any harder, my dick twitches and painfully demands to break free. The pinkest, perkiest nipples sit erect and swollen, highlighting her flawlessly round, creamy tits. They are more than a handful, and I can’t wait to bury my head between those pillows of perfection, and see if they’re as soft as they look.

  “Spectacular,” I say with bated breath.

  As she cups both tits and begins plucking her nipples, I can’t wait a second longer. Lunging forward, I clasp her bicep and spin her around, smashing her front against the wall. I know I’m being extremely assertive, but my passion is assailing my last tether of rationality, and I need to consume this woman before I explode.

  Sliding my hand around her slender waist, I dip down and slip a finger into her slick, warm wetness, and we both moan at the swift intrusion. Ramming her hips backward, she reaches down and interlaces her hand through mine, inserting a long finger of her own.

  We’re both steadily fingering her, but this is my show, so I nudge her hand away and insert another finger, stretching her wide. She cries out, taking me deeper, and moans the instant I go in all the way. Her inner muscles clasp around me and I finger her fiercely, showing her no mercy until she comes with a quick, explosive cry. The sound is music to my sex-starved ears, and I yank down my zipper before the final tremor can rock her sated body.

  The moment my belt and pants hit the floor, I’m desperately drawing her closer, leading my throbbing dick to her delicious, soaked cunt. But before we do this, I should caution her that things are about to get messy.

  “I don’t make love. I fuck. I fuck long. And I fuck hard. I’m not here for romance, or to fall in love,” I warn, rubbing my tip along her opening. “I don’t make empty promises. I’m just here to come. Can you handle that?”

  Juliet groans low in her throat, my promises of unrestricted pleasure obviously appealing to her kinky side. “Show me what you’ve got.”

  However, my last sense of reason alerts me to the fact I don’t fuck without protection. I especially don’t fuck someone as promiscuous as Juliet without protection.

  She senses my delay and quickly whispers, “I’m clean,” and wiggles her ass, begging me to give her what we both want.

  Any level-headedness is lost, and I finally succumb to the lustful Juliet Harte.

  With one rough, fluid movement, I thrust forward and impale her, pressing her fl
at up against the wall. She cries out, but the sound is far from pained.

  “Hold on,” I breathlessly caution, as I plan for this to get out of control.

  She splays out both palms against the wall, and stands on tippy toes, angling her body so she can take me in deeper, and harder. Wrapping one hand around her waist, and the other in her long blonde hair, I begin pumping my hips ferociously, fucking her so hard her body slams against the wall with every single punishing thrust I deliver. But I can’t stop. I’m fucking away my pain, and the harder I push, the further away it seems to fade. I want to fuck it all away, until there’s nothing left but this mind-numbing pleasure.

  I bunch my fist in her hair and tilt her head to one side, exposing her long neck, her pulse pounding against the heated flesh. I strike down and avidly bite, sucking her floral-scented flesh into my hungry mouth, while she screams out in approval.

  Her passion-filled mewls spur me on, and I moan against her throat, my biting and sucking in step with my driving hips. My orgasm is so close, it’s bubbling to the surface, so I reach down and begin massaging her swollen clit, my deft fingers never ceasing until she finally comes with a violent, thunderous scream.

  One…two…three, and I’m fucking done.

  The moment I pull out, jetting my seed all over her back, she slumps down the wall, her trembling legs unable to hold her up, because I just fucked her like an animal. A sense of shame and disgust rolls over me, and I open my mouth, ready to apologize for being such a brute. Yes, I did warn her, but that was out of control.

  But she surprises me as she turns her head and with hooded eyes pants, “Let’s do that again.”

  7

  Just a Man