“Oh! Yes, I’m fine.” My hands go up in defense. “Honestly? Barely got any sleep. I was too wired.”
“Uh-huh.” Dax hits the start button, then he turns to me, arms crossed and back straight. I know the gears in his head are turning; he’s too obvious to hide it. I’m sure he’s wondering if I’m going to lose it after so many months of progress, but I won’t. It’s sweet how he cares, though. He’s been my sounding board and shoulder to cry on for months. He knows how bad it was, so I know he’s skeptical.
“I promise I’m fine.” I pause for effect. “It was a minor bout of emotional whiplash, that’s all. Nothing I can’t handle.”
The sound of coffee trickling into the glass starts up. It’s like music to my ears.
“Right,” he says, unconvinced. Thankfully, though, he drops it. “What was all that pounding on my door about? You looked spooked.”
My stomach drops. I bite my lip and blurt out, “I saw a spider.”
One brow shoots up in question. “A spider?”
“It was ahugespider.” I spread my hands apart in front of me, emphasizing its size. I’m not actually afraid of spiders, but he doesn’t need to know that. And it’s not like I can tell him I thought someone was following me without getting a hundred follow-up questions. What I really want is to forget about what happened last night, to pull him close and feel him up through his gray sweats.
Dax’s eyes narrow. “Are you lying to me?”
Fuck me. The way his voice drops has me dangerously on edge. “No.”
Dax uncrosses his arms and stalks over to the counter where I’m sitting. Both hands come to rest on either side of my hips as he leans in. Surface level, he smells amazing. Aside from last night’s whiskey, I can also smell his cologne. It makes my stomach do flips.
He always smells amazing.
“You’re a terrible fucking liar, Cheeks.” His voice is low, like the muffled hum of an engine. My body instantly comes to life.
“I promise.” I breathe him in and hold myself back, even though I want nothing more than to run my fingers through his hair. “It was the biggest spider I’ve ever seen.”
“Bullshit.” He huffs a laugh. I can’t help but crack a smile, too.
Sliding my hands up to rest on his shoulders, I say, “I swear it wanted to eat me.”
“Yeah?” Dax’s gaze locks onto mine and big, black pupils shadow his once hazel eyes. “Me first.”
“Mhm. You first,” I echo before crashing my lips into his.
Dax’s mouth is hot on mine as his arms come to circle my waist. I eagerly welcome him as he presses into my middle, already hard. He tangles a hand in my hair and pulls my head to the side, angling me to better fit against him. I separate my lips to allow him access as his tongue reaches out. His hunger for me takes off as he sucks and bites, teasing my tongue to play with his.
I hook my fingers into the waistband of his pants and pull him impossibly closer. His dark hair falls around my face, tickling my cheeks. I hum at the taste of him, pleased by the mixture of last night’s alcohol and the fresh, sugar glazed pastry he just ate.
He should have apple fritters every day, I think, lost in the flavor.
One hand leaves my hips and sinks beneath the hem of my sweater. His fingers graze my bare back and follow the curve of my spine, settling between my shoulder blades. With practiced ease, he unfastens my bra and smiles. He’s so smug sometimes.
“Let’s get this off.” He pulls away and brings the sweater over my head, sliding the bra off next. Dax returns for another kiss,one hand against my back and another on my bare breast.
“I need you to fuck me,” I beg.
Dax groans, dropping kisses along my jaw to my chest. He takes one pert nipple in his mouth and sucks, licking it up to a point. I throw my head back, aching from the throb between my thighs. I can feel the building moisture as my arousal drips out of me.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he says, moving to the other nipple. This time, he stays, flicking it with his tongue as he sucks. It feels so good that I don’t even realize one of his hands has moved into my thin leggings. The feel of his warm fingers rubbing the wet fabric of my underwear shocks me. The sensitivity is off the charts. If he keeps going, he’s going to finish me before my pants ever get off.
“Slow down,” I whimper, tugging at his hair.
Dax pauses, coming back to my lips. He licks the bottom one and nips at it. “What’s the matter, Cheeks? Ready to come?”
I nod.
“Slow it is.” He chuckles. Moving the fabric of my panties aside, he slicks one finger up and down, covering himself. With a kiss so deep it makes my head spin, he pushes inside of me. He’s careful, too. His strokes are slow enough to be practiced, not pure lazy. He wants me to feel it.
