by Monica James
“I must go. Remember; think of me whenever your pussy is involved.” Another psychological seed is planted. She can’t come unless she thinks of me. Have fun fucking your fiancé now.
Leaning in close, she purrs, “I sometimes do.”
Great, I’m already halfway there.
I smirk, also leaning in so we’re inches apart. “Sometimes isn’t going to cut it. Make it all the time.”
“Okay, Dr. Mathews.” Her breaths are small and winded.
“Excellent. Good day, Ms. Harte.” I push off the doorframe.
“Dr. Mathews?”
“Yes.”
She pulls at the hem of her baggy tee. “Do you really think Dylan isn’t taking us seriously?”
I squash down my smile. “How do you define fiancé?”
She mulls over my question before replying, “Someone who loves, cares, and worships his fiancée.”
“And is that how Dylan makes you feel?”
She frowns, but doesn’t reply.
Putting forward my last play for the day, I pin her with an overconfident stare. “I know if I were your fiancé, you wouldn’t be out here talking to another man, unsatisfied, and wearing those hideous pajamas. If I were your fiancé, you’d be too busy sucking my dick to talk to another man, totally satisfied, and not wearing anything at all.”
She whimpers and bites down on her bottom lip.
I shrug arrogantly. “But that’s just me. See you soon. And hopefully, see you in something a little more…you.” I don’t wait for her reply. I turn my back, unable to wipe the smile clean. Step one was a complete success. Juliet will be torturing herself with everything I’ve just said.
If I told Juliet she were a green bucket, she would scoff at the idea, as she knows she’s not green, nor a bucket. But because I’ve told her something she has been questioning herself about, she’ll begin to doubt everything. Food for thought, you bitch. I hope you fucking choke.
I think in her own twisted mind, she really loves Dylan. She always has. But things are not what she thought them to be. I know she’ll never leave him, so I plan on bringing the dysfunctionality of their relationship to her attention regularly. I believe he’s the only person who can hurt her, and I plan on using this to my advantage.
As I drive to work, I begin orchestrating my next plan of attack. I’ve dissected her relationship, so it’s now time to start working on something she loves almost as much—her vanity.
14
Clueless
MADISON
It’s Saturday afternoon and Dixon and I are playing my new favorite game—strip studying. The rules are simple. For every right answer, Dixon removes an item of clothing. For every wrong one, an item of clothing goes back on.
At the moment, he’s down to one sock, jeans and a navy tee.
He flicks through the monster textbook and smiles. “Idiopathic thrombocytopenic purpura is?”
I think over the question before replying, “A bleeding disorder that is characterized by too few platelets.”
He looks impressed. “Well done.” When he reaches down and slips off his other sock, I try and hide my disappointment that he didn’t reach for his shirt instead.
Thankfully, he doesn’t address my frustration that he’s still dressed. “Which of the following joints normally has three-hundred-and-sixty-degree circumflexion? The knee. The shoulder. The elbow. Or the fingertips.”
I know this answer, but I’m too distracted by Dixon’s hotness to concentrate. “Um, the knee?” I respond dreamily.
“The knee? That would be awfully painful.”
Painful? The only thing painful is the fact he’s still clothed. “Huh?” I ask, finally coming to and meeting his amused eyes.
When he raises a brow, I so know I’m busted. I try my best to appear innocent, but I can’t help but grin.
“Now Madison…” His voice is laced with promise. “If you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask.” He places the textbook onto the coffee table while I lean back and gulp.
He stands slowly, grips the hem of his tee, and yanks it up over his head. The moment his defined chest is bare, I press my legs together and stifle my moan. Somehow, this past week I’ve ended up spending every night in Dixon’s bed. At first, it was because I was too afraid to go home, but now, it’s because I don’t want to leave his side. Not only do I feel safe around him, I also feel myself beginning to open up in ways I never thought possible. We’ve fooled around some, but when he stopped because we were getting a little heated, I found myself wanting more.
Just like right now.
He is absolutely gorgeous. I never tire of his slightly rugged facial hair, which sets off the blue in his eyes. Nor do I ever tire of his muscled chest, the rebellious tattoo which poetically says ‘We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love,’ or that hardened V muscle, which is accentuated with a painting of dark scruff leading into his low-slung jeans.
“You keep looking at me that way and I won’t be held accountable for my actions.”
His comment doesn’t sway me in the slightest as I continue eye-fucking him. “Duly noted.”
A growl rumbles from his chest before he bends forward and pushes me back down onto the sofa. I fall willingly, welcoming his weight against me. He locks my lips to his and kisses me with such ferocity he takes my breath away. I can’t keep up with his speed so I surrender, allowing him total control. He presses into me even further and wraps his hand behind my neck, fisting my hair in a tight hold. The pressure increases as I duel my tongue with his.
A small knot begins to build in my belly, my body hinting at what it wants. I scissor my legs, the need to feel him pressed against me almost too much. His heated skin sets my flesh alight and without thinking, I reach for the bottom of my tank and draw it up my body. Dixon stops kissing me and rises up, resting his weight on his palms.
Looking down at me, he smirks. “You take that off and we’ve got a problem.”
Without a second thought, I sit up and lightly push him so he falls backwards. Watching me carefully, I see his chest rising and falling as I shyly slip the tank over my head. I’m sitting before him in nothing but my black strapless bra and jeans.
Under his intense stare, I feel like a goddess, so I don’t cover my almost nudity like I usually would. I like that I can provoke that look in his eye because it shows me he feels the same way as I do about him.
I’m forming some crazy strong feelings for Dixon, and if I were to scratch at the surface, I know those feelings would translate into love. I think I’ve always loved him, but now those feelings have deepened and I can’t imagine my life without him.
Sitting up, he leans forward and draws me into his lap. When his erection presses against me, I can’t suppress the moan which escapes me. Every part of my body feels like lava, and I’m seconds away from erupting. Dixon senses my need and rewards me with his trademark mischievous grin as he reaches around and unsnaps my bra. The lacy material falls away and a second later I’m bare. He doesn’t break eye contact, however. He continues gazing at me hungrily.
I shift away, a touch self-conscious, but he stops me from moving by wrapping his palm around my waist. “Your body is unbelievable, Madison. Don’t ever feel uncomfortable around me. I fucking worship you. Inside and out.”
His passionate words only stoke my fire and I feel my skin break out in tiny goose bumps. He runs a finger up my arm, his eyes focusing on every one. When I watch him glide his pointer over my shoulder, along my collarbone and then down to my chest, my breathing begins to mount, pushing my breasts out dangerously close to his mouth.
He smirks before he bends forward and takes a needy nipple between his warm lips. I can’t help but cry out, as the sensation sends sparks all the way to my toes. He tastes me, sucking and kneading in a way only he knows how. With the other hand, he massages my other breast, pulling and tugging at my nipple until I’m left panting and whimpering in need.
I arch my back, g
ranting him greater access as I need more. And I know that more will only be doused by reaching into my pants and extinguishing the inferno between my legs.
“More,” I shamelessly beg as I begin rocking, his length pressing against me in just the right way.
“You want me to get you off?” he hoarsely questions around my breast.
“Fuck yes.” I can’t help the profanity, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and there is no greater desperation than right now.
Dixon chuckles before reaching between us. With deft fingers, he unsnaps the top button of my jeans. He takes my nipple back into his mouth as he slips his hand into my pants. He bypasses my underwear and goes straight in for the kill. We both hiss the moment he touches me in the flesh.
“You’re always so ready for me. You know what a fucking turn-on that is.” It’s not really a question, but rather a statement, a statement filled with pure ownership—ownership of my body. And it’s true. I belong to him. I always have.
I grunt in response, focusing on the way his fingers and mouth work in sync with one another as they bring me closer to the edge. He bites my nipple softly while inserting a finger into my starved body. He works his way in slow, but tonight, slow is not enough.
“More. Please.”
Dixon growls and slowly works in another, filling me so deliciously full I never want him to leave. He begins stroking me gently while I work my hips, his fingers moving deep within me. He’s skating around my center, teasing me because he knows the moment he touches me, I’ll explode. He wants to ride out my pleasure as long as he can.
He delves in deeper and deeper, so deep he takes my breath away. I gasp, feeling that sinister knot tightening and tightening.
“I want these.” He goes from one breast to the other, sucking, nipping, and licking madly. “I want this.” He twirls his fingers inside of me while circling his thumb over my cleft.
I scream and squeeze my eyes shut. The feeling of being worked over this way sends my senses into overdrive. But he’s stalling and teasing me, as I know he’s holding out and waiting for the grand finale. “Please, Dixon.”
“Please what?”
“Please, finish me off. I’m so close.”
“I know,” he smugly replies, coiling his tongue around my nipple.
“If you d-don’t, then I will.” I impulsively reach down and nudge his hand out of the way as I slip a finger into my slippery folds. It’s a poor substitute and my body instantly demands Dixon’s return.
“Holy shit. That is so fucking hot.” His hand cups mine, guiding me to insert another finger—so I do.
I’m totally touching myself in front of another person and I don’t care. All I care about is my release.
“C’mon, chase it out. Touch yourself and feel what I feel every time I touch you.”
I throw my head back as I continue touching myself quickly with Dixon’s hand still locked over mine. He’s directing the speed and how deep I go, and when he flicks over my core, it’s almost my undoing. I’m so close; I’m speeding toward the finish line…but when Dixon withdraws his hand and slips his fingers, the ones which were inside of me moments ago, into my mouth and orders me to suck, I lose all control and come so violently I see stars. I ride out my release, my fingers not stilling until the last tremor racks my sated body.
When I collapse in a heap, Dixon hums. “That was by far the hottest thing I have ever witnessed in my entire life.” I grunt in response, my head resting lazily against his shoulder.
I’m not sure how long I stay this way, and only Dixon’s cell chiming has me moving an inch so he can reach around me to snatch it off the coffee table. “Hey, Finch. Oh, man, that’s awesome,” he says, pressing the phone to his ear as he runs his fingers down my back.
My skin instantly reacts to his touch.
“Maddy is over. I’m, er, helping her study.”
I can’t help but laugh.
“Sure. Let me ask her.”
Pulling back slowly, I brush my matted hair from my eyes. When I see Dixon, I instantly flush as it hits home that I just masturbated on his lap.
He smirks, totally reading my thoughts. “Finch and Heidi have invited us over for dinner. Gabriella just started walking and they want to celebrate. Do you want to go?”
I nod animatedly, as I’ve yet to meet Finch. “I would love to. Tell him thank you.”
He uncovers the phone and smiles. “Did you hear that?” They go on talking with me perched on Dixon’s lap as he touches me instinctively.
It’s so nice to feel this comfortable with another person, especially knowing that all our secrets are out in the open. He knows my secrets, and I now know his. I know he’s ashamed for leaving his father in care. I also know that my gut instinct was right about Beth. Just the thought of her attempting to seduce him has my high slowly fading. But all of that is in the past. I understand why he didn’t tell me. It’s not a big deal. I mean, it’s not like they were involved or anything. The thought has me wondering what if they were. Could I ever get over it and be with Dixon anyway? Running my hand over his whiskers, I know that I could. If he were honest, then I could get over anything.
So no more lies. He’s accepted my horrible past, and it feels he cherishes me more for it. A secret which I thought would hinder my future relationships has done the opposite because I’ve never felt closer to anyone in my life. I’ve forgotten about our fight because none of that matters now. The truth really does set one free.
“What are you smiling about?” he asks as he ends the call.
“Just how nice this is.”
When he raises a smug eyebrow, I playfully hit his arm. “Not that. I meant it’s nice that we can be honest with one another about everything. There are no more secrets between us.”
I notice a tic under his eye, but write it off as me probably saying too much. I have to learn to control my feelings before I go and say something stupid like I love you.
“We should get ready,” he says, a slight strain to his voice.
Just as I wonder what’s wrong, I feel that he’s still hard. “Oh, sorry.” I quickly climb off his lap, realizing I’m probably not helping the situation in his pants.
He smiles and rises, kissing me on the forehead. “I’ll take a quick shower.”
I nod as I slip on my bra. I’m waiting for him to playfully suggest I join him as he’s done in the past. But he doesn’t. He sighs, appearing to want to tell me something, but at the last minute, he changes his mind.
When he walks down the hallway, I tell my overactive imagination to quit it with the conspiracy theories. Everything is where it should be, and I couldn’t be happier.
15
Double Lie
DIXON
And just like that, my guilty conscience rears its ugly head.
This week has been wonderful, and not once have I regretted my decision to not tell Madison the truth. But her statement earlier tonight has just reminded me what a lying asshole I am.
“Is everything okay?” Madison asks as we walk to Finch’s front door.
I raise my head, realizing my eyes have been glued to the floor. I need to get a grip. “Yes, fine. I can’t wait for you to meet Finch.”
“Me either,” she says, smiling. “Will Debbie be here?”
Before I have a chance to press the doorbell, the door opens wide. “S’up, bitches!”
I look over at Maddy, who hides a smile behind her hand. “Sadly, yes.”
“Give me a hug, you sexy thang.” I step aside as I’m presuming he’s addressing Maddy, but I’m caught off-guard when he wraps his meaty arms around me. “Your turn next, Cherry Pie,” he promises over my shoulder, while Maddy giggles.
“Get off of me, you ape.” I push him away while Hunter chuckles. “And I’d appreciate you not calling my girlfriend a bitch.”
“Oh, girlfriend. My little boy is growing up,” he quips, wiping his eye.
Reaching for Madison’s hand, I flick him in the nuts as
I walk past. “Too bad you haven’t.” I laugh as he clutches his junk and breathes through his nose heavily.
“Speaking of girlfriends, is your little redheaded friend attending this evening?” he asks, still clutching his balls as he closes the door.
Madison shakes her head as she looks up at me, confused. “No. I didn’t know she was invited.”
Hunter scoffs. “Of course she is. Call her right now.”
He pulls out his cell, offering it to Maddy. She tentatively reaches for it, while I slap his hand away. “Nice try.”
Maddy appears completely baffled, but of course she is. She’s not devious like Hunter, and has no idea he’s playing her.
“You dial her on his phone,” I explain. “She’ll be subjected to heavy breathing, drunk dials, and dick pics from this pervert.” I know Hunter’s tricks. Hell, I taught him his tricks once upon a time.
Maddy screws up her face while Hunter slaps a hand over his wounded heart. “I’ll have you know I’m not into drunk dials.” However, he doesn’t dispute the other claims.
“Hey, guys. Welcome. You must be Madison,” Finch says as he rounds the corner, a dishcloth thrown over his shoulder.
“I am. And you must be Finch.” She steps forward and automatically gives him a kiss on the cheek.
His enormous grin reveals he likes her. “My wife, Heidi, is just feeding our daughter, Gabriella. She won’t be too long.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I can’t wait to meet them both.”
Finch looks as smitten by her as Hunter and I am. Not that I can blame them. She’s perfect.
