Wicked Dix (Hard Love Romance #2)

by Monica James

  “And that’s helped?”

  “Yeah, a little. I want to confront Beth. I mean, Juliet.”

  Her name is like a swift kick to my balls. “Confront her about what exactly?”

  She shuffles in her seat, her breathing turning ragged. “For, for being so…mean to me while we were growing up.”

  Why did she halt? What was she intending to say?

  “Maddy…” I keep my eyes focused on the road. “I don’t know Juliet…” Lies! Lies! Lies! “But from what I can tell, she would be mean to her own mother.”

  “Her mother is dead.”

  “Precisely. That option is far better than having to deal with a devil child.”

  “Dixon!” she admonished. “That’s awful.” But her muted chuckles reveal she agrees.

  “Are you going to be okay seeing her this evening?”

  Her tiny shoulders lift. “I don’t know. She doesn’t bother me as much anymore. It’s my bro—her fiancé,” she corrects quickly, “that does.”

  I grip the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white.

  I’m pleased her lowlife, vermin brother isn’t going to be in attendance, as this dinner would have turned into a BBQ. A BBQ of me grilling his ass before I sliced him up into teeny tiny pieces.

  I have never loathed two people more than I do Juliet Harte and her cocksucker partner, Dylan Roberts. No other couple have deserved each other more. They say misery loves company; well, these two individuals are the most miserable bastards I know.

  “You never have to see him again. And if you do, I’ll be your personal bodyguard.”

  She smiles and the sight has me falling over myself like a slobbering, love-struck fool.

  “I like your body, so it’s a deal,” she cheekily says.

  I get giddier than a schoolgirl at a One Direction concert. “Well, in that case, it’s yours any time you want it.”

  “Tonight?”

  I almost sideswipe a semi traveling on the other side of the road. Correcting quickly, I look over at the giggling vixen next to me. “A little warning next time.”

  “How would you like to be warned?” She bats those impossibly long lashes my way. “I’m in desperate need of urgent medical attention, Dr. Mathews, which only you can provide.” She has the gall to wink.

  I want to kiss that smart mouth before I watch it open in passion as I eat her out.

  “Careful, otherwise I’ll turn this car around and the only thing I’ll be eating…is you.” I give her a wink of my own. Her giggles die in her throat instantly.

  As her pink tongue nervously darts out to wet her bottom lip, I smother my moan. The sight reminds me that, because of my lie, I am now a fucking monk. The few times I have seen Madison over the course of this nightmare, I’ve been so incredibly guilt-ridden, I haven’t been able to touch her without wanting to cut off my own hands. I don’t deserve her, but I want her—so, so bad.

  And by the way she’s pressing her thighs together and clawing at the seat, I dare say she wants me—so, so bad.

  Suddenly, my BMW has become as stifling as the sun, and I focus on nothing but the road, afraid of what I’ll do if I look at her and she looks at me in return.

  Thankfully, moments later, I turn into the gated community and see the impressive, thirty-two-acre lakefront estate. The widespread, three-story white home is impressive, to say the least. The gravel crunches under my tires as we ascend up the long driveway. The front lawn is enormous and beautifully green, and the closer we get to the gigantic home, I begin to understand why Juliet is the way she is.

  Her entire life, it would appear she’s had everything she could ever wish for, and in turn, this wealth has turned her into a spoiled little brat. What happens when someone has everything they could ever want? They want more, because more is never enough.

  Unlike Madison.

  Madison has experienced many hardships throughout her life and before Sebastian came into her world, she and her mom had it tough. She knows what it’s like to be hungry. She appreciates her fortune because she’s not an ungrateful she-devil. And she has a soul.

  I park the car, taking a moment to appreciate the eye-catching sight before me. “So you said it has how many bedrooms again?”

  Madison unbuckles her belt and looks out the windshield also. “Seven. Not to mention five bathrooms, a saltwater swimming pool, a theatre room, a two-thousand-square-foot guest house, and just for fun, a full-size tennis court.”

  “No wonder Sebastian is in such good shape,” I say as if solving a riddle. Madison playfully slaps my arm.

  When we exit the car, I feel like the luckiest man alive when she slips her tiny hand in mine. The marbled stairway is immaculately polished, and the large alcove shelters two glass doors. Madison doesn’t have time to sound the doorbell because her mother opens the door the moment we climb the last step.

  “You made it!” Rachel clucks, racing forward and embracing Madison in a tight hug.

  “Mom!” Maddy exclaims, the embarrassment apparent in her tone.

  “Sorry, but I can’t remember the last time I saw you twice within a month. I’m just so happy to have you here.” She winks at me over Maddy’s shoulder, and I can’t help but smile.

  She finally pulls away, beaming in my direction. “It’s so nice to see you, Dixon. Thank you for coming.”

  “Thank you for having me, Rachel.”

  She leans in to give me a kiss, but my mother would be rolling in her grave if I didn’t grace both her cheeks with a kiss. She blushes a lovely shade of pink. A pink that reminds me of her daughter’s…

  “Please, won’t you come inside?” Rachel says, signaling with her hand, mercifully interrupting my train of perverted thoughts.

  She welcomes us into her remarkable home, and I won’t lie, this home is probably the nicest abode I have ever seen. The large foyer opens up and there are five different passages one can take, to transport them to where, I don’t know. But I can’t wait to find out.

  We follow Rachel through the extravagant living room and down the hallway. “Come through. Sebastian is just in the kitchen cooking.”

  I raise my eyebrow while Rachel laughs. “He is a much better cook than I am. Trust me, if I was cooking, we would be having pizza.”

  The moment we step into the kitchen, I smell fresh tomato sauce, oregano, and golden mozzarella—three of my most favorite smells in the world. Smells that remind me of my mother.

  “Look who I found at our front door,” Rachel teases, while Sebastian turns from the stove with a big smile on his face.

  “Button. You look beautiful.” He wipes his hands on a dishcloth before wrapping Maddy in a tight embrace.

  “Thank you. Whatever you’re cooking smells absolutely delicious.” She stands on her tippy toes to look over his shoulder as they break apart.

  “Seeing as Dr. Mathews is Italian—” his eyes flick my way “—I figured I’d try my hand with some Italian cuisine.” He extends his palm and we shake firmly.

  A man with a good handshake is a man who has balls.

  “Madison is right, it does smell delicious. But please, call me Dixon.” Sebastian happily nods. “I hope you like red wine.” I pass him the six-hundred-dollar bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.

  He whistles, perusing the label. “You’ve got good taste. But we already knew that.” He glances lovingly at Maddy, who beams. “This will go wonderfully with dinner. Honey, would you open this bottle for me? My tomato sauce is about to boil over.”

  Rachel nods as Sebastian goes back to the stove. “So, how was traffic?” he asks, his back turned as he busily adds in some fresh basil leaves.

  “It was fine. With Dixon behind the wheel, we’re lucky we got here in one piece,” Maddy quips, grinning at me as she reaches across the counter to steal a slice of tomato.

  I’m utterly captivated as she pops it into her mouth, licking the stray juices from her lips.

  “Oh, I don’t believe that. I bet Dixon is a wonderful driver,” I vaguel
y hear Rachel say in the background. I can’t keep my eyes off Madison as she innocently licks her fingers clean.

  My dick chooses this moment to come out of hibernation. How typical.

  “Isn’t that right, Dixon? Dixon?”

  My name being repeated is a sure sign I’ve missed something important. But the only important thing to me is Madison recreating that entire performance, but this time, I’ll volunteer to be the tomato.

  Only Madison’s flushed cheeks and bashful smirk alert me to the fact that someone is expecting me to talk. But how can I speak? I’m rendered speechless by the beauty in front of me. All that long, soft hair and those supple, pink lips—all I can think about is what those lips could do, and how I could use that hair as reins.

  Because I’m a masochist, I drop my gaze to her spectacular chest, which is steadily swelling with every coarse breath she takes. Thoughts of what I’ve done to those amazing, full breasts have me wishing I wasn’t in a room with her parents—her parents, who are probably seconds away from throwing me out because I’m clearly undressing their baby daughter with my heated eyes.

  “That’s absolutely right, Rachel. Your daughter is in good hands.” My gaze never wavers from Maddy’s as I respond, thankful I was half listening.

  Her red glow alerts me to the fact that she’s just as turned on as I am.

  “I have no doubt about that,” Rachel says, placing a glass of wine on the counter in front of me. She seems oblivious to the fact I’m considering we skip dinner and I head straight for dessert—the dessert between Madison’s thighs.

  “I’m so happy we can all be together. It’s just a shame Dylan has to work. But Juliet should be here any minute.”

  And just like that, my dick shrivels into a prune. Juliet is like the opposite of Viagra.

  Madison shuffles uncomfortably.

  “Maddy, do you want to show Dixon into the dining room? Dinner is almost done,” Sebastian says over his shoulder, while Rachel is busily pulling out the good china.

  She nods but doesn’t speak. How can they not see her retreat?

  I follow as she nervously leads me into a huge dining room, a room overlooking the pool. The minute she stops walking, I scoop her up into my arms.

  “Are you all right?” I ask, kissing her temple lightly.

  Turning into my embrace, she replies, “I’m fine. I just wish we could have one dinner without the mention of him.”

  “I know, angelo.” We stay hugging for a while, both needing the comfort.

  I’m lost in the stillness of the pool when Maddy whispers, “So what were you thinking about? In the kitchen,” she quickly clarifies.

  Deciding to ask her what she thinks, I put forward, “What do you think I was thinking about?”

  Her breathing begins to mount. “I-I think you were thinking what I was,” she reveals in that small voice which I’ve come to learn means a fire is building in her belly.

  “Oh yeah? And what’s that?” I can feel her heart soaring about in her chest. The air is charged with a palpable tension, and we’re both ready to explode.

  She bravely looks up. “That we should pay a visit to the guest house.”

  My cock stands in salute and high-fives my raging need to get laid.

  “You—” I tap the end of her nose “—are a mind reader. Shall we sneak off before appetizers are served?”

  She giggles, but turns serious. “No. But maybe before dessert?”

  I grunt when she shyly slides a hand between us. She surprises me as she brushes over the bulge that appears whenever I’m in her presence.

  “That suits me just fine because I already know what I’m having.”

  Her pupils darken and she swallows nervously. “Maybe…” She groans when I bend forward to suck her earlobe into my hungry mouth. “We could just skip dinner altogether then?” she suggests, voicing my exact thoughts.

  “You’ll have no complaints from me.”

  Her tiny whimpers swathe us in a blanket of bliss as I kiss down the length of her arched, elongated neck. My self-control is diminishing and it’s taking every ounce of strength I have to not take her outside and make good on my word right now. I have a serious semi, and if she keeps making those little sounds, I’ll be able to slice through the meatloaf with my rock-hard dick.

  “Ah, Dixon,” she cries when I bite over her frantic pulse. But I can’t stop.

  I’m moments away from getting caught out with my hand underneath her dress, and that’s not the impression I want to leave on her parents. I need a distraction, or at least an ice-cold shower.

  I sadly get one of the two. I really would have preferred the cold shower.

  “Is this a private party? Or can anyone join?”

  3

  Eat Me

  DIXON

  Madison pulls away, horrified, while I glare at the woman who is destroying my life.

  “Oh, please don’t stop on my account.” Juliet’s shrill voice is comparable to that of a dying hyena with flatulence.

  “Be— Juliet,” Maddy hastily corrects, standing closer to my side.

  Juliet nods her greeting, her impish gaze locked with mine. “How lovely to see you again, Dr. Mathews.” Her ruby lips tip up into a secretive smile—a secret I’m sadly privy to.

  If looks could kill, Juliet would be a smoldering pile of ashes where she stands. However, I choose to ignore her and glance over at the elegantly set table. I’m thankful when I see there are two seats sitting opposite the other, while a place is set at the head of the table.

  “Here,” I say, pulling the chair out for Maddy.

  She adjusts her dress before taking a seat. “Thank you.”

  I kiss the top of her head and take the seat next to her, leaving Juliet standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. She gets the hint and unhappily sinks into the seat across from me.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” announces Rachel, who enters bearing an assortment of food, Sebastian trailing close behind.

  The moment he sees Juliet, his eyes light up. “Bonbon, I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Sorry, Daddy, I let myself in.”

  He places the huge tray of lasagne in the middle of the table, before bending forward and kissing Juliet on the head. “There’s no need to apologize. This will always be your home. Yours too, Button.” Juliet looks like she’s about to launch over the table and claw out Madison’s eyes.

  I think back to our first session where I originally thought Juliet’s father may be the root of her addiction; however, getting to know Sebastian better, I realize he has nothing to do with his daughter’s deviancy. I now can’t help but wonder who is. This house may be rich in possessions, but what was lacking emotionally for Juliet to turn out the way that she has?

  “How’s the morning sickness going? Still having problems keeping anything down?” Rachel innocently asks, taking her seat.

  When Juliet cups her small belly, I actually feel like I’m the one having problems keeping anything down. The bile rises and I feel even more disgusted with myself that there is a slight possibility that that baby is mine.

  “Oh, Rachel,” Juliet fawns, looking pointedly at me. “If this baby is anything like his father, he’ll give me trouble right till the very end.”

  Rachel chuckles, while I glare at a grinning Juliet.

  “Dig in, everyone,” Sebastian says, waving his hands out to the feast in front of him. Sadly, I’ve lost my appetite.

  Madison’s stillness reveals that she’s still uncomfortable, but she reaches for my plate and smiles. “What would you like?”

  “You don’t have to serve me.”

  “I want to.” The blush to her cheeks has me thinking about our earlier conversion.

  Subtly gathering up the hem of her dress, I lightly rub my fingers along her inner soft thigh. “I’ll have anything you think I’ll enjoy,” I reply, relishing the sensation of her skin prickling at my touch.

  “H-how about one of everything?” The plate wavers slightl
y in her unsteady hold.

  “Sounds good to me. It all looks too delicious to deny.” I accent my sentence by giving her thigh a gentle squeeze.

  Only I can hear her muted moan as Sebastian and Rachel are chatting to Juliet about the baby. She serves up a decent serving of lasagne, meatloaf, salad, and some garlic bread while I continue stroking her scorching skin.

  “Dixon, tell me, is that lasagne as good as your mom’s?” Sebastian teases when Maddy places my colossal plate in front of me.

  I look down at my meal and smile. “From smells alone, it’ll come close. She would have been proud.”

  My use of the past tense alerts him to my mother’s passing. “Oh, I’m sorry. She’s passed?”

  I nod. “It’s okay.” I wave my hand, as there’s no need for apologies. “She did. Close to a year ago now from breast cancer.”

  Rachel’s kind face softens. “Oh, dear. That’s awful. I’m so sorry to hear that. What about your father?” she asks, reaching for her wine.

  I shuffle in my seat. My father is an extremely touchy subject for me. I’ve barely detailed his condition to Maddy. “My father is still living,” I reply, picking up my fork, hoping to disguise my discomfort. “He’s in New Jersey.” I exclude where exactly in New Jersey he is.

  “Are you close?” Rachel asks, oblivious to how uncomfortable I am. The entire table is quiet, awaiting my response.

  There is no way I can avoid this, and I’ve done enough lying this week. “We were, but he suffered a breakdown after my mother and now—” But I can’t say it. I can’t say now he resembles someone I no longer know.

  Madison slips her hand into mine. “I’d love to meet him one day.”

  No, you really don’t. But I smile at her kindness. “Yeah. One day,” I reply half-heartedly, letting go of her hand.

  Thanks to my obvious retreat, the room becomes as comfortable as a turkey before Thanksgiving.

  Sebastian clears his throat. “So Button, have you decided what you’re doing for your birthday?”

  And that’s exactly the change of subject I need. “It’s your birthday? When?” I turn to look at her, cocking a surprised brow.