Chapter 28 Mic Drop #2
“No.” The word came out harder than I intended. Davina stopped, brows furrowing with confusion as she looked at me.
“Dallas…”
“No,” I repeated. “You don't get to answer that.” I turned to face the camera directly. “I'm answering this one.”
“You don't have to…”
“Yeah. I do.” I leaned forward, every ounce of performance stripped away.
“I want everyone listening to hear this clearly, because I'm only going to say it once, and I need you to understand that I mean every single word.” The studio was dead silent.
Even Abby had stopped moving in the control booth.
“My wife,” I said slowly, “You want to know what I see when I look at my wife?
I see a woman who built an empire with her voice, her brain, and her refusal to apologize for taking up space.
I see someone who makes me laugh until I can't breathe and calls me on my bullshit without flinching.
I see curves that I want to spend the rest of my life memorizing, and eyes that make me forget every script I've ever rehearsed.” My voice dropped.
“The internet wants to tell me I could do better? The internet can go straight to hell. I wake up every morning next to Davina Dodger and my first thought is how the hell did I get this lucky.”
I turned to look at her then, and the professional mask had slipped. Her eyes were bright, glassy, and she was biting her bottom lip hard enough to leave marks.
“You asked how you're supposed to handle comments like that,” I said, quieter now, just for her, even though thousands of people were listening.
“You're not supposed to handle them. You're supposed to let me handle them.
Because I will burn down every comment section on the entire internet before I let anyone make you feel like you're not exactly what I want.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, laughing a little.
“Dallas…”
“I'm not done.” I reached across the desk and took her hand, not caring about the cameras, not caring about the audience.
“I spent thirty-two years thinking I knew what I was looking for.
I was wrong. I was so wrong. You're not what I was looking for.
You're what I didn't know I needed, and I will spend the rest of my life making sure you know that.”
Davina pressed her free hand to her mouth, tears streaming now despite her best efforts. “You're ruining my makeup,” she managed.
“It'll photograph great. Trust me.”
She laughed and squeezed my hand so tight it almost hurt.
In the control booth, Abby was openly crying, frantically fanning her face while simultaneously monitoring chat.
“The listeners are losing it,” she said through the speakers, voice thick. “I'm losing it. Everyone's losing it. This is the most beautiful thing I've ever witnessed in my professional career.”
Davina took a shaky breath, dabbing under her eyes with her fingertips. “Well. I think Dallas just broke the internet.”
“Good.” I lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “It deserved it.”
She stared at me for a long moment before she turned back to the camera, composure slowly rebuilding but softer now, the cracks showing through in a way that made her more real instead of less.
“So. There you have it, babes.” Her voice was husky. “My husband, everyone. Who apparently woke up today and chose violence against my tear ducts.”
“I regret nothing.”
The podcast continued. The questions that followed were lighter, someone asking about my signature moves, another wanting to know if I could cook.
But underneath the banter, Davina's hand kept finding mine, and every time I looked at her, she was already looking back.
By the time she wrapped up the show, I felt like I'd run a marathon.
The ON AIR light clicked off, and Abby emerged from the control booth, face still blotchy from crying. “That was the best episode we've ever recorded. Maybe the best episode anyone has ever recorded.”
“The live chat?” Davina asked.
“Absolute chaos. Several hashtags are already trending on social media too.”
Davina stood, stretching, “Lunch?” she asked, turning to me. I nodded. “Burgers?”
Davina sent Abby to pick up food since we weren't up for a photo op. The studio door clicked shut behind Abby, sealing us in silence. The air felt different now, like it was charged with everything we’d just said and everything we hadn’t.
Davina stood by the mixing board, her back to me. Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep, unsteady breath.
“Dallas,” she started, her voice barely a whisper.
I was across the room before the second syllable left her lips. I didn’t think. I just moved. My hands found her hips, spinning her gently to face me.
I didn’t give her time to speak. My mouth crashed down on hers.
She gasped against my lips, a sharp intake of surprise that melted instantly into a moan as she kissed me back just as fiercely. Her hands flew to my face, pulling me closer as if she could fuse us together through sheer force of need.
Our tongues met, and the taste of her drove me wild. I backed her against the desk, the soundproofing swallowing the thud of her body meeting the wood. My hands slid from her hips to her thighs, gripping hard, and I lifted her in one smooth motion.
She broke the kiss with a gasp, her legs wrapping instinctively around my waist as I settled her on the desk. Microphones wobbled. Papers fluttered to the floor.
“Dallas,” she breathed, her chest heaving against mine.
“I meant every word,” I growled, my mouth traveling to her jaw, then down the sensitive column of her throat. A soft cry escaped her lips as I nipped at her pulse point. “Every. Single. Word.”
My fingers went to the buttons of her burgundy blouse.
They slipped in my haste, but then the first one gave way, then the next, and the next.
I pushed the silky fabric apart, revealing the black, sheer lace of her bra.
Her breasts were full and heavy, spilling over the cups.
I ducked my head, taking one pebbled peak into my mouth through the lace.
She cried out, her back bowing off the desk. “Oh, god…”
The wet lace was a tease. I needed skin. I reached behind her, fumbling with the clasp. It sprang open. I shoved the bra aside, and her breasts fell free, beautiful and heavy in my hands. I took one tight nipple into my mouth, sucking deeply, swirling my tongue around the hardened bud.
Her fingers clenched in my hair, holding me to her. “Yes… just like that…”
I lavished attention on one breast, then the other, biting and sucking gently until she was writhing beneath me, her hips rocking against my stomach. The primal sounds she made were the best thing I’d ever heard.
But I needed more. So much more.
My hand slid down her stomach, over the curve of her hip, and shoved her skirt up around her waist. My fingers traced the edge of her panties, already damp beneath my touch.
“You’re so wet,” I murmured against her breast.
“For you,” she panted. “It’s always for you.”
I hooked my fingers in the lace and shoved them roughly to the side, exposing her completely. I didn’t hesitate. I dropped to my knees on the studio floor.
“Dallas, what are you…”
My mouth was on her before she could finish.
I licked a long, slow stroke from her opening to her clit. She jolted, a shattered cry tearing from her throat. Her taste exploded on my tongue. She was intoxicating. I did it again, slower this time, savoring her before focusing on her clit, circling the swollen bud.
Her thighs tensed around my head. “Fuck… fuck…”
I pushed two fingers inside her, curling them, and she was so hot, so tight and wet. I pumped my fingers in a steady rhythm, my mouth never leaving her clit. I sucked and licked. I flicked my tongue over her in rapid circles as I listened to her breath hitch and stutter.
“I’m… I’m going to…” she choked out.
“Come for me,” I demanded, my voice rough against her skin. I pushed a third finger inside her, stretching her, and redoubled my efforts with my tongue, sucking her clit hard.
She broke.
A raw scream ripped from her as her orgasm crashed over her.
Her body convulsed, her back arching wildly off the desk.
Her inner walls clenched around my fingers in rhythmic, pulsing waves.
Her release flooded my mouth, and I drank her in, licking and sucking her through every last tremor until she was sobbing, limp and shaking, her hands falling away from my hair.
I rose slowly, my knees protesting, my face wet with the evidence of orgasm. I looked down at her, sprawled across her own desk, blouse open, skirt shoved up, completely undone. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
Her dazed eyes found mine. A slow smile touched her swollen lips. “You’re still dressed,” she slurred, her voice wrecked.
“Your turn to fix that.”
She pushed herself up, her hands going to my belt and unbuckling it before yanking my zipper down. My pants and boxer briefs dropped to my knees, and my cock sprang free, painfully hard, glistening at the tip.
She wrapped her hand around me, stroking once, twice, her thumb swiping over the head. I hissed, my hips jerking forward.
“Now,” she whispered, her eyes dark with hunger. “Fuck me. Hard. I need to feel you.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I gripped her hips, pulling her to the very edge of the desk as I positioned myself at her entrance, still slick from her release and my mouth. Looking into her eyes, I saw my own desperate need reflected back.
I drove into her in one deep, brutal thrust.
She screamed again, her nails digging into my forearms. She fit me perfectly. I held still for a moment, buried deep, letting us both feel the staggering fullness.
Then I pulled back and slammed into her again.
And again.
I set a punishing rhythm, the desk rocking with every thrust. The sound of our bodies meeting, skin on skin, the wet slap of my hips against her thighs, filled the silent studio.
I gripped her thigh, hiking it higher over my hip, changing the angle. On the next thrust, she saw stars.
“There! Oh my god, Dallas, there!” she shrieked.
I hammered into that spot, over and over, each thrust deeper, harder. Her head thrashed side to side, her breasts bouncing with the force of my movements. I was losing myself in her, in the feeling of her clenching around me, in the sight of her coming completely apart beneath me.
“Look at me,” I ground out.
Her glazed eyes found mine. I held her gaze as I fucked her, as deep as I could go.
“You’re mine,” I growled, the words ripped from somewhere primal. “Every perfect inch of you and I’m yours. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she sobbed. “Yes..” Her inner walls began to flutter around me again, the telltale sign of another peak. “I’m coming… I’m coming again…”
“Come with me,” I demanded, my own control fraying at the edges.
With a final thrust, I pushed her over the edge.
Her second orgasm tore through her, a silent scream on her lips as her body seized around me.
The vise-like grip of her pleasure was my undoing.
My own release exploded, hot and endless, as I emptied myself deep inside her with a roar that felt like it came from my soul.
I braced myself on my arms, our bodies still joined, both of us shuddering through the aftershocks. Our harsh breaths were the only sound in the room.
Slowly, I pressed a kiss to her sweaty forehead. She turned her face into my neck, her lips brushing my skin.
“The door,” she mumbled, her voice thick and sated. “Did we lock the…”
We both froze, staring at each other for one horrified beat.
Then I was moving, yanking up my pants while Davina scrambled to button her blouse, both of us dissolving into breathless, panicked laughter that ricocheted off the soundproofing foam.
By the time Abby's key turned in the lock, Davina was seated in her chair, hair only slightly disheveled, and I was leaning casually against the mixing board like a man who definitely hadn't just rearranged the entire desk.
Abby paused in the doorway, bags of food in hand, eyes narrowing. She looked at Davina. Then at me. Then, at the microphone stand that was now somehow facing the wall.
“I don't want to know,” she said flatly.
“Good,” Davina replied, her voice impressively steady. “Is that my burger?”
Abby handed it over, then stopped. “Why is your blouse buttoned wrong?”
Davina didn't miss a beat. “Fashion.”
I bit the inside of my cheek.
Abby looked at the ceiling as though asking God for patience, then disappeared into the control booth, muttering something about hazard pay.
Davina caught my eye and grinned, and I thought, yeah. This is exactly what I didn't know I needed.