by Liz Durano
“And he called you frigid.” Dax almost sounds annoyed when he says it, and now I’m really uncomfortable.
“Well, yes,” I stammer. “I guess I just don’t… you know…”
“No, I don’t know, Harlow. Tell me. I don’t read minds.”
“I don’t… you know… climax. Orgasm… that kind of thing.”
“Those are two different things, Harlow. Being frigid and not having an orgasm,” he says, frowning. “Did he?”
“You mean, did he ejaculate?”
“No, I mean, come.”
I feel my cheeks color. “Well, yes. Guys always do.” I’m met with an arched eyebrow. “Don’t they?”
This time, Dax doesn’t answer right away. It’s as if he’s probably wondering how the hell he can get himself out of this crazy woman’s bed as fast as he can and get a real woman in town instead, someone with no silly baggage like yours truly.
“God, Dax, I’m so sorry I messed this up.”
“No, you didn’t,” he says, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear. “Look, why don’t we start over?”
“Start over what? I mean, in what way?”
“Like this.” Dax lowers his head and kisses me softly, his tongue brushing along my top lip. It’s a kiss that sets the butterflies in my belly fluttering. “Don’t think of anyone else. Right now, there’s just us. You. Me. And no one else.” His words alternate in between kisses, and I can’t help but sigh at the sensations that engulf me. “This is all about you, Harlow.”
His other hand slides down my breast, palming it. He rubs my nipple between his thumb and index finger. Then he pinches it, and I gasp, my eyes widening. He’s watching me, studying me with a gaze that’s heavy with desire for me, his nostrils flaring. It’s as if he’s taking me in with all of his being, each glance, each kiss, every caress just for me.
“Just let go.” Dax’s mouth leaves my lips, his tongue tracing lazy circles on the skin of my neck down to my hollow at the base of my throat. I feel myself shiver at the many sensations that hit me, my legs instinctively parting as he settles his body between my thighs, our hips meeting and his erection pressing against my belly. “Don’t worry about me or whether I come. I can take care of myself, but right now, let me take care of you.”
“But…” My objection turns into a moan as his hand cups my mound, his fingers finding me soaking wet. His mouth descends on my nipple, and I grip the sheets around me.
“Just let yourself go and forget the world outside this room. This place. It’s just you and me under the full moon and the stars,” Dax murmurs as he slips one finger inside me and I cover my mouth with my hand as I groan. When his thumb finds my sensitive clit, I shiver with anticipation. He slips another finger inside me as he takes my other breast in his mouth, nibbling my nipple between his teeth.
“Dax…” My senses are on overdrive, the things he does to me sending me to the brink before pulling back, not letting me lose myself completely. Not yet. Dax is right; I need to shut off my brain and let my body take over. By the time he makes his way down my body, his beard tickling my belly and then my inner thighs, I offer no resistance. He flattens his tongue against my slick folds, and I lean back into the pillows, the feel of his tongue warm and heavenly.
He grips the sides of my thighs, keeping me in place as I lose myself in the many sensations that hit me. I feel my body tighten, an orgasm building as Dax alternates between sucking my sensitive clit and fucking me with his tongue and his fingers. I must have screamed with that first orgasm, and then the next one after that. And when I completely let go, finally let go, I swear I see stars.
Chapter 14
Dax
When Harlow told me no one had ever gone down on her before, to say I went to town would have been an understatement. What did she mean, no one had ever gone down on her before? She tastes fucking amazing, and I could have gone longer than the hour I did, hearing her—feeling her—come for me four times, her cries echoing throughout the room as her body shuddered with each orgasm. Lil D begged for release but he’d have to wait, not when I was on a damn mission to prove to Harlow just what she’d been missing all this time.
Is her ex-husband blind? Harlow is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. Naked and vulnerable, she’s perfection. A woman with brains and a body made for sin, her skin smelling of vanilla and lavender with the perfect curves that make me rock hard at the mere sight of her. Her breasts, her slim waist, her broad hips—even the horizontal scar just below her belly—all uniquely her. And her taste—I can’t get enough of it, and to think she had never tasted her essence before tonight was a rush like nothing I’d ever felt before. I felt like fucking Columbus sighting the Americas for the first time. Sure, it’s a bit of an overkill saying that but I’m a fucking dude, and knowing I’m her first in something like this is a huge turn-on. With Harlow, it definitely is for me, and I want this to be all about her.
For the next few minutes, I watch Harlow sleep. There’s no trace of tension on her face now; she’s glowing like a cat, fully sated and there’s a faint smile on her lips. It’s no myth when they say sex can get rid of pent-up frustrations. It does, and it doesn’t even have to be fucking, but a sexual release that allows the body to let go. And man, did Harlow let go.
I gently move my arm from under her head and quietly slide out of bed. I hate to leave her, but I need to make a few calls. I should have done it the moment I got home to Nana’s house the night Harlow had her gun out, but I’d also been in the midst of getting some business stuff squared away with the main office. I also didn’t want to pry. It’s not my style to pry.
But things have changed. I like Harlow—a lot—and that can be a dangerous thing, just like Nana told me the night after I took her with me to Bandolier National Park.
You love too much, mijo. Just be careful, okay? She’s going to break your heart just like—
I’ll be fine, Nana, I had assured her, not wanting to hear her say their names. They were ex-girlfriends for a reason. I’m cool.
But after today, I’m not so sure just how cool I can be around Harlow. I just punched her lawyer, for crying out loud. And even if the asshole deserved it, that’s still assault and battery.
I go back to my workroom to retrieve my phone. Standing by the window, the moon is hidden by thick clouds tonight. Solar lights I’d set up along the perimeter of the Pearl and even its circular roofs make it look like a beacon in the darkness, complete with lights bordering the gravel driveway. It’s a beautiful place to find peace, though right now, peace is the farthest thing from my mind.
I want answers.
Why would her lawyer fly all the way here to deliver those documents? How much is this Hamptons property? Must be a lot for him to haul his ass all the way here.
I dial my friend, Cole Chambers, a lawyer at Chambers, Maynard, & Lipman. He’s not yet a senior partner, but his father, Lionel Chambers, heads the firm that represents corporations like my own. Lionel and my dad are friends from way back, and when I started making a name for myself in the custom furniture business, it made sense to have them represent my company. And though no one has sued me over a broken handle or accused me of faulty design, there are people out there quick to claim that they invented it first even though it doesn’t do them any good to sue me. But if it gets their name in the headlines, sometimes the risk is worth it.
“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Cole answers on the third ring as I head to the far end of the Earthship. I don’t want Harlow to hear what I’m about to say. “I hear Phoebe Taylor is representing your lady friend as soon as the judge approves the change.”
“I guess that will take time, right?”
“Maybe, but Phoebe specializes in that kind of thing, and that’s why I referred her,” Cole says. “So, my man, what’s up?”
“What do you know about this Jeff guy? Her ex-husband?”
“Manhattan may be small, Dax, but it’s not that small,” Cole says, laughing. “He’s a regular at the club
, that I can tell you.”
“Where Dad goes?”
Cole laughs. “Yeah, where your dad raves to everyone about your latest accomplishments and your designs.”
“Oh, great. He’s still doing that?”
“Damn straight. How do you think you’re getting all those orders pouring in with barely any advertising? Your dad’s proud of you, man. Hey, I know you’re in your man-cave right now, but is your old man still in Flagstaff?”
“Yes, and probably hating every minute of it,” I reply, chuckling. Dad actually doesn’t hate the place. He just hates being there alone because it makes him sad. It’s where Mama retreated after her cancer diagnosis, falling in love with Flagstaff while visiting an old high school friend who’d settled there. It’s also where she requested to have some of her ashes scattered, and right now, there’s a River Birch tree growing right where she used to sit next to a stream behind the house. And I bet, right now, Dad’s there talking to her. We both do.
“So why are you asking about this Jeff guy? He’s some big-shot surgeon, from what I’ve heard, but then, so is his wife. She’s one of the top transplant surgeons in the country. Or she was, if the talk is to be believed,” Cole says.
“What talk?”
“My cousin, Jen, works at Miller Gen, and she told me that Dr. James had to leave the hospital six months ago. One day she was doing her usual rounds, and the next day, she was gone,” Cole replies.
“No malpractice?”
“Not that I know of, but Jen told me that Jeff threatened the Board he was going to some other hospital if they didn’t let her go. I mean, he’s Director of Transplant Surgery, so I’m sure the Board had to work around that situation very carefully so she wouldn’t sue them. But guess what? Jen says Dr. James does have reason to sue them. The nurses think it’s harassment, and that her record is impeccable. No reason for them at all to let her go the way they did. I don’t care if it’s bad practice to have two doctors in the midst of an acrimonious divorce treating patients in the same hospital, but there are ways to go around that legally.” Cole exhales before continuing. “Jen did say that Dr. James had a nervous breakdown after her baby was born. They couldn’t save the kid, and after that, nothing could save the marriage. They’d been trying to get pregnant for five years.”
“Jen sure knows a lot,” I mutter, my muscles tightening at the thought of Harlow and her baby.
“She works in the OR, so she was right there when everything was going down. She says he’d been having an affair with his office assistant all through his wife’s pregnancy. Everyone knew but his wife. She was too busy juggling her surgery schedule and dealing with her pregnancy. Why she didn’t just take an early maternity leave I have no idea.”
If I already hated the guy, I hate him even more. “Did anything else happen?”
“Nah, just the usual divorce shit you wouldn’t wish on anyone,” Cole replies. “And with two highly successful people like Jeff Gardner and Harlow James, it all boils down to money. Who gets what, how much, depreciation, appreciation, everything. Too bad she delayed the divorce because his big wedding in the Hamptons sure ain’t happening now.”
“Can you blame her? And so soon after their kid dying? It hasn’t even been a year then,” I say, seething.
“No, it hasn’t.”
“Can you believe that her lawyer flew all the way here to get her to sign off her share of their property in the Hamptons? He said, and I quote, ‘be a good girl and sign it,’ before she told him to fuck off.”
“That was unprofessional of him. And to fly all the way to New Mexico to advise his client is not very smart,” Cole says, his voice serious now.
“I punched him.”
“That wasn’t very smart of you either. I sure hope he was on your property when you did it. Still, that’s something I’ll deal with when he decides to sue.”
“When he decides to sue?”
Cole chuckles. “What can I say? He’s a lawyer, and so am I. It takes one to know one. But you do have one of the best firms in the country representing you so even if he does, you’re in good hands.”
“Thanks for the support,” I say wryly. “I’ll remember that when Millie emails me the dimensions of that custom tub she wants for your wedding present.”
“Hey! Now don’t get me in trouble with my girl,” Cole protests before he lapses into silence for a few moments. “Say it ain’t so, Dax, my man. You really like this one.”
The memory of Harlow making the first move comes back to me and my stomach tightens. That kiss had come as a surprise though one that was certainly far from unwelcome.
I look towards the master bedroom where the woman I can’t stop thinking about lies sleeping. “Even if I do, don’t be spreading it around, alright?”
*
Harlow wakes up an hour later although she doesn’t say anything as she gazes at the ceiling.
I’ve been watching her all this time, memorizing the contours of her cheekbones and the slope of the bridge of her nose, even the exact placement of what looks like a chicken pox scar on her left temple. I had decided the moment I got back into bed that I was going to gaze at the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met—a transplant surgeon and a professor, no less. I don’t even care that she’s still, technically, married to an asshole.
There’s vulnerability to Harlow as she sleeps, in the way she tucks her face against my chest when I gather her in my arms. There’s no trace of the transplant surgeon who knows way more stuff than I do, only the woman I’m falling too hard and fast for.
“Penny for your thoughts,” I murmur as she turns her head to face me.
“Thank you for staying,” Harlow says, her voice hoarse.
“I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome, not when you’ve already paid for your stay.”
“It’s only money, Dax. You can’t take it with you.”
“You’re right,” I say, regretting my words. I don’t even give a shit about the money. The only reason I rent out the Pearl is so that it’s not empty most of the year. I also like the idea of my mother’s namesake being a sanctuary for people from all over the world.
“What if Frank comes back?” Harlow asks as she turns to face me.
The concern is a valid one, and I see the worry in her eyes. “He won’t, not if he knows what’s good for him. Do you think he’ll come back after what happened?”
“No, but I just realized how isolated this place is.”
I chuckle. “You did? Just now?”
“No, it was when you were, um,” she casts her gaze downwards towards the space between our hips hidden underneath the sheets, “down there getting busy, and you made me come so hard I could have sworn I screamed.”
“You did. But I’m not complaining.”
“It made me realize that while I probably won’t need to worry about neighbors complaining, it’s probably not good if I’m in trouble. Like in an emergency.”
She does have a point, but I’ve stayed here by myself countless times. But then, I don’t have lawyers flying halfway across the country demanding I sign documents, and there are the Villier brothers, one of them an ex-Marine. “Would you want me to stay?”
“Just for tonight, if you don’t have any other plans.“
I shake my head. “Well, now that you mentioned it. I need to cancel my date with this hot chick—”
“You wouldn’t dare, Dax Drexel!” She fake punches my chest, and I pull her to me, inhaling the scent of her hair. Great, there goes my dick snapping to attention at just the scent of vanilla and lavender. Harlow looks up at me. “You never got to, you know—”
“No, I don’t know. Tell me,” I reply, my eyes narrowing as her gaze lowers and her cheeks redden. Am I mistaken, or is Harlow embarrassed to say the words? Surely she can’t be…I can’t even think of the word, but just like no one’s ever gone down on her, has her sex life been pretty much, well, boring?
But before I can conclude that her sex life was that boring unti
l I came along, Harlow slips her hand under the sheets and traces a straight line from my sternum down to my belly button. Her hand moves lower, finding me already hard and throbbing. When she glides her palm along the underside of my dick to cup my balls and give them a gentle squeeze, I just about lose it. Her sex life before me may have been boring, but Harlow is full of surprises.
“I sure hope you’re not just teasing me, Harlow,” I say, figuring that if she doesn’t say it, I have no complaints about hands-on demonstrations. “If you play, you gotta pay.”
She leans closer and kisses me softly on the lips. “Is this kiss payment enough?”
“Nope.”
“What about this one?” She plants a kiss on my chest, her tongue circling my left nipple as she wraps her hand around my length and squeezes again.
“A little, but you’re still running a deficit, Dr. James. May I suggest going a little lower?”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Harlow slides her body lower on the bed, her tongue tracing an imaginary line down my torso. By the time she positions herself between my legs, I allow her to push me flat on my back as I tuck a pillow under my head so I can watch her.
“Is this low enough?” she asks, and this time, I have no words left as Harlow first runs her tongue along the underside of my dick, taking her time as she goes from base to tip. Then she covers the head with her mouth, sucks and then releases it with a gentle smacking sound before repeating the move again, and a few other moves that leave me gripping the sheets and moaning.
Her technique is flawless, her hands also keeping busy and sending tingles up and down my spine all the way to the tips of my toes. Fuck! It’s all I can do to finally let go and come and I sure can if I wanted to, but I don’t want to. I want to be inside her. Now.
“Damn, Harlow! Did you write the manual?” I pull Harlow towards me, so her face is level with mine. Any more of her mouth on my dick and it will all be over.
She runs her tongue along her lips playfully. “Well, thanks to your free Wi-Fi, not all my online research has been about transplant medicine.”
