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“Apologies.” Dax tips the brim of a hat he’s not actually wearing. He grabs my hand, and we take the steps two at a time until we reach the third floor. I’m pulling his shirt from his jeans as he fits his key into the lock. I’ve got it completely out by the time he opens the door and flips on the lights.
My only objective is to get Dax naked, but I pause in shock at the sight of his apartment.
I’ve been to my Dax’s apartment easily a hundred times. It’s the same one in this timeline. A spacious one-bedroom with parquet floors and a kitchen that hasn’t been updated since the late seventies. But this place looks so different.
I always joked that Dax’s place was decorated to look like it walked off the pages of a Crate & Barrel catalog. In my timeline, he has a tan leather sofa that he agonized about for a full six months before buying. He’s so in love with his carpet that he refuses to let me drink red wine in his living room.
This room is meticulously neat, like the one in my world. But the couch is faded and worn, as if he bought it secondhand. The furniture, although tasteful, shows the scars of many years of scratches and dents and cups left without coasters. Dax’s big screen is nowhere to be found. His carefully curated art is missing from the walls. The room looks half-empty.
“It’s not much, but it’s home.”
I flip my attention back to Dax, who is watching me take everything in.
“It’s great,” I lie, knowing my poker face is shit and that Dax can see through my words. I want to explain that there’s nothing wrong with his place at all. It’s just different from what I was expecting. But I can already tell from the way he’s avoiding my eyes that I’ve screwed up and offended him.
“Hey.” I cross the room and wrap my arms around his waist. “I’m like a cat. It takes me a minute to get oriented in a new environment. Your place is great. Most importantly, you have a couch that looks big enough to make out on.”
I reach for Dax’s belt, pull the end through his pant loops, then use the fact that it’s still on his waist to pull him over to the couch. With a light push, he falls back and sinks onto the cushions. I straddle him, knees on either side, and abandon his belt for the buttons of his dress shirt, only getting distracted when he reaches up and brings my face to his.
We have done a lot of kissing tonight. From sweet pecks to horny, hungry ones, we’ve pretty much covered the bases. However, this kiss is slow and deep and lacks the urgency of our earlier ones. It’s as if it melts away the room around us, leaving only Dax and me alone in our own little universe.
At some point, my hands remember how to function and manage to finally resume their quest to remove his shirt. With Dax now top-naked, I’m able to run my hands over his smooth skin, his chest, his arms, parts of Dax I’ve never explored before.
He pulls my dress up over my head, undoes my bra with an impressive single hand, slides the straps off my shoulders, then shoots it like a slingshot across his living room. I laugh as it lands on top of his lampshade, then gasp as he takes a nipple into his mouth, his hands finding the ticklish spot below my ribs.
It all feels so good. The kissing. The ease we have together. I wonder for the millionth time why we haven’t been doing this all along. Not this Dax and me, butmyDax. Was I so obsessed with Stuart that I failed to see what was in front of me? I don’t remember ever feeling this way about Stuart. Like I’m on the edge of a cliff and about to fall and 100 percent okay with it.
“You’re thinking awfully hard again.”
He’s abandoned my breast to nuzzle my chest, just below my chin.
“Only sexy thoughts in this head. Trying to figure out how I can get your pants off. I think it’s next to impossible in this position.”
“Well, I have a solution for that.” He lifts me by the hips, flips me over, and lays me down on the couch. I am treated to the most delicious view as he stands, undoes his belt, and sheds his pants to a puddle on the floor.
His boxers are navy with tiny white polka dots all over them, but I am far more interested in the erection they are failing to contain. He moves toward me, his hands reaching for my panties.
“Nope.” I hold up a single finger. “Yours first. I am way too excited to see what’s going on under there. Boxers off. Now.”
Dax hesitates for only a second before reaching for his waistband and removing his last layer.
“Holy shit!” I clap my hand over my mouth, mostly to prevent any drool from escaping, butholy shitis the correct phrase to use here. Dax’s penis is glorious. Thick, hard. It’s the Christmas present I never knew I wanted. I picture it in a bow. It would need a very big bow. “Where the hell have you been hiding that thing? I mean, your pants are all pretty tight.”
Dax raises an eyebrow. Then he makes a second attempt to reach and remove my panties, but I squirm away.
“Seriously, Dax, your penis is glorious.”
“Gemma.” He looks up at me, his expression feigning annoyance as two locks of dark waves fall in front of his eyes. “I’m trying to get you naked over here.”
I brush the strands away and take his head into my hands. “I know. Sorry. That was just an unexpected surprise.” I brush my lips against his. He kisses me back, and I can feel the muscles inhis back relax a little. We make out again, this time with only my lacy pink thong keeping us from both being completely naked.
Dax’s hand finds my breast at the same time his mouth meets mine, and I abandon all other plans. Part of me wants to stay like this for hours, kissing, stroking, touching, teasing. The other part of me still has the image of his penis burned into my head and can think of nothing butI need that thing inside me.Especially because every time Dax moves, I can feel it hard and ready between my legs.
“I very much want to remove these.” Dax’s finger slides beneath the elastic of my underwear. “However, you stopped me before, and I want to make sure you’re okay with me taking them off.”
“I am very much okay with you taking them off. My hesitation earlier was wanting to enjoy the moment while you took off yours.”
Dax lifts his head. His smile is all wolfish and sexy. “Then I won’t hear any complaints if I take my time.” He doesn’t wait for an answer but travels down the length of my body, stopping every few inches to kiss or lick until he reaches the elastic waistband. Then he moves to my left hip, dragging his hot breath over my skin as he takes his sweet time kissing his way across.
