Smokey

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Alexandra

It’s foolish, and I don’t expect the target practice to do anything to get me out of my head — my thoughts keep going to this man who was hired to watch out for my brother, who should have been there to help keep him safe, and who instead abandoned him and let him die.

I can’t stop asking ‘why’?

Why did he not show up? Why did he not do the job that he was supposed to do? Why did he choose to let my brother die?

I have so many questions, so much anger.

Until Dixon pulls me aside; and my frantic mind slows down at his touch.

Until he tells me he loves me and will do anything for me; and my heart races as those words sink in.

Until he lines up those targets and riles me up just enough — fucking calling me ‘princess’ again — that pulling the trigger feels good, right, necessary; and then I lose myself in the idyllic, simple action of: aim, breathe, shoot, repeat.

Over and over.

It works.

Dixon plays me like he knows me to my core.

It’s just me, the targets, and him.

Dixon, the infuriating, loving man who is my rock in this storm.

At some point, we switch turns shooting. I hand him the gun and then I stand back, watching him — the way he holds the gun, the look of concentration on his ruggedly handsome face, the breadth of his muscular shoulders, the way his jeans fit perfect to his ass, the bulge of his crotch, the sweat that makes his shirt cling to his skin under the relentless afternoon sun.

I realize then, watching him, that there”s no other place I would rather be than here in this barren landscape with Dixon. The anger that has been my constant companion has long since ebbed away, thanks to the man who loves me, and pisses me off, often in equal measure.

As the sun dips lower in the sky, painting the horizon with streaks of orange and pink, we pack up our things. The gentle whisper of the wind replaces the sound of gunfire, rustling through the grasses along with the distant call of a hawk on the hunt.

”Let”s head back,” Dixon says, his voice soft and warm against the coolness of the evening air. “It’s time.”

Just those words are enough to send my thoughts spiraling back to where I don’t want them to go: to murder, betrayal, grief. I’m not ready yet for this peace to end. I want something more, something that’ll overwhelm these terrible thoughts that keep threatening to take me over.

Then I’m struck with an idea. An urge. A need.

“Let’s go down to the beach instead. There’s a path just around the bend that’ll take us below the bluffs.”

I don’t even wait for him to answer. I just start for the path and trust that he will follow.

He does.

I’m familiar with this stretch of coast, just like most everyone who lives in Costa Oscura. You can’t move to this pretty seaside town and not immediately want to learn every nook and cranny, every cove and bay, every grain of sand along the coast as soon as possible. It becomes a part of who you are with each breath of salty sea air you take in.

So, as we descend the switchback path down the bluffs, I have a good idea where I want to go.

I walk the coastline for just a short while. Then I spot it. This part of the coast has seen its fair share of battery from the sea, enough that the rock in some places has been worn down like swiss cheese. Walk long enough, and you’ll find a cave, and it just so happens that one isn’t that far. It lurks like a dark shadow set inside the rock, a blackened mouth just waiting to eat us up.

“Come on. Follow me,” I call to him as I turn and wave. “Hurry.”

He raises an eyebrow at that word — hurry — but I can see the tide is coming in. It’s still a long way out, but it’ll make what I have planned into a race just as much as it’s a respite.

“Are you leading me here to kill me?” He calls out, half joking.

“Don’t you trust me?”

“You’re still carrying the gun.”

I realize then that I am. And I’m leading him toward a dark hole in the earth where there’d be no witnesses. “Yes, still have the gun. All the more reason for you to do what I say.”

I beat him to the cave. I watch him approach. It seems like with every crash of the wave, every step he takes, the anticipation builds inside me until my heartbeat seems louder than the sea.

“What’s this about, Alexandra?”

I gesture toward the rock wall of the cave with the gun. “Stand over there. Against the wall.”

He complies, a curious look on his face. “Now what?”

“Take your shirt off.”

That smirk returns to his face for a flicker of a moment.

“What is this? You want me to strip naked in a sea cave? Sounds like something Moose would do.”

With one motion, I take the safety off the gun and fire it into the wall. It’s swift enough and loud enough that even Dixon flinches. “Did I stutter?”

He complies. The shirt comes off, and my eyes are rewarded.

“Now what? Are we going to stop this game?”

“This isn’t a game, Dixon. Shooting, spending time with you. It was all a pleasant distraction, but I need more. A lot more. Take your pants off.”

“Naked in a cave. Fuck me.”

“Might happen if you stop whining.”

He laughs, and that challenging smirk pulls his lips higher.

“Otherwise, what?”

“I’ll take your clothes and hold you here until the tide comes in. Then you can be naked and trapped in a sea cave. Maybe I’ll call the coast guard and they can come rescue your bare ass. Or maybe I won’t. The tides out here are serious, so there’s a chance you might drown if you try to swim for it. A few experienced surfers died close to here just a couple of months ago. Now, come on, I promise this will be fun.”

His pants come off, and he folds and sets them aside next to his shirt.

“Now, what?”

I lower the gun, let it hang loosely by my side, and take a step closer to him. The dim light filtering through the mouth of the cave catches on his skin, outlining every ripple and edge of muscle with a silver sheen.

My hands caress his bare chest, trace the contours of muscle with my fingertips. The warmth emanating from him is so inviting, and I can”t help but press myself closer to shield myself from the coolness oft he cave. His lips meet mine, and I kiss him back with desperate fervor.

Then I pull back. To breathe, primarily. And to speak.

”I love you, and I want you,” I say, looking up into his eyes. ”I want this moment to be ours — no, more than that, I want this to be mine — a break away from all the chaos, all the thoughts in my head, all my worries about just what I’ll find or why this fucking Erik Marquez guy didn’t do the job he was supposed to do. I want this to be about us. Just you and me.” I step back even further, turn, and take off my clothes and set them next to his on the floor. ”Because this target practice thing… it helped get my head straight, but only for a little while. And not completely. There’s only one thing that really does it.”

“And that is?”

He smirks. He knows. But he wants me to say it out loud.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“You didn’t need to hold me at gunpoint to get that to happen, princess.”

In a split second, I take the gun and fire it at the wall again. Rock shatters, and the furious noise echoes through the depths of the cave.

“You will not use that nickname for me right now, Dixon.” I set the gun back down on the pile of clothes and give him a look that does more to capture his attention than even gunfire. “You’re going to fuck me like you hate me. Make it hard, make it rough. I don’t want to think, or feel, anything else but you fucking me. Can you do that?”

His eyes narrow slightly, the playful edge replaced with an intensity that sends another shiver down my spine—one of raw desire. He steps forward, and his hands find my hips with a grip that promises to leave marks.

”I can do that,” Dixon murmurs, his voice low and charged. He forces me against the cool, damp cave wall. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“I took you at gunpoint into an ocean cave where the rising tide could trap us. I think that’s pretty fucking serious, don’t you?”

“And I’m fucking serious about hearing you say ‘yes,’ Alexandra. Because I don’t think you understand the fucking you’re in for. When I’ve got you pinned down, face in the dirt, fucking you like the dirty slut you are, the only thing you’ll be able to do is scream my name. So you better tell me ‘yes’ now, while you can still speak.”

I smile and lightly slap his cheek. “That’s exactly what I want.”

He doesn”t waste another moment. His mouth is on mine, his tongue probing, demanding a response. I meet his intensity with my own, my hands pulling at his hair, my nails scratching down his back. The sting of pain only serves to heighten the pleasure.

Dixon lifts me up, his strength surprising me as he pins me against the wall. My legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him deeper. I whimper against his lips, begging for more. He kneels in front of me, lifting my left leg on his shoulder, and he tastes me. His tongue flutters against my pussy, a slow stroke that becomes another, and another, until I am grinding myself needfully against his face.

“More. Hate me. Own me. Fuck me.”

He obliges, plunging a finger inside me.

I gasp, my body trembles with anticipation. After a moment, he adds another finger, stretching me, preparing me for what”s to come. Tension, beautiful electric tension, builds inside me.

But Dixon isn”t done yet.

“You think I’m going to give it to you that easy?” He growls, then he withdraws his fingers and his tongue, leaving me wanting. He stands. Dixon”s hand reaches my chin, tilting it up so our eyes meet. The intensity in his gaze sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through me. ”Beg for it. Beg for my tongue, and maybe I’ll let you come.” With one hand holding my eyes on his, the other roams my body, returns to between my legs, teases and fucks me while I quiver and shake on the edge of ecstasy. “I fucking own you.”

“Please.”

He releases my chin and presses me hard against the rock wall. With one hand, he grabs my wrists and pins them above my head. With the other, he continues to tease me. ”You”re going to have to do better than that,” Dixon taunts, his voice a low rumble that resonates through me. His fingers continue their maddening dance, teasing and retreating, never quite giving me the release I crave.

I arch my back, pressing myself harder against his hand, trying to force him deeper. But Dixon is too strong, too skilled. He holds me in place, his gaze never wavering.

”Please,” I beg again, my voice a desperate whimper. ”I need it. I need you.”

Dixon”s lips curl into a smirk. ”I told you to beg,” he commands, his fingers quickening their pace. The pleasure is almost unbearable, my orgasm just out of reach. I feel like, if I don’t come, I might die. I’m desperate, shaking. “Beg like a good little slut.”

”Please, Dixon,” I gasp, my hips bucking against his hand. ”I”m yours. Do whatever you want with me. Please, just let me come.”

His eyes darken at my words, and for a moment, I think he might finally give me what I want.

But then he pulls away, leaving me gasping and my body feeling like it’s on fire.

”Not yet. I want more from you before I give you what you want.”

He steps back, and I slide down the wall, my legs unsteady beneath me. Dixon watches me with a predator”s gaze, his eyes devouring every inch of my shaking, naked body. In desperation, I reach between my legs. My fingers are on my clit for a single second before he seizes me, twisting my hand behind my back, and shoving me hard, face-first, against the rock wall. The cool stone soon turns slick with the sweat from my face and my hot breath.

“I control when you come, Alexandra. You haven’t begged hard enough to earn that fucking privilege.”

My chest rises and falls rapidly as I try to catch my breath. All I can think about is how close I am to coming, how desperately I want to feel release shake my body. I swallow hard, trying to clear my throat. ”Please, Dixon. Please, make me come. I need it. I need it so bad. Please.”

His smirk widens. ”That”s more like it. But you still haven”t begged hard enough.”

He releases my hand and steps closer, his body presses against mine. I’m forced even further against the rock wall of the cave, the cold stone shocking against my skin. His erection is hard and hot against my ass, a silent reminder of what he”s capable of doing to me.

”Get on your knees,” he commands in a low voice.

My legs feel like jelly, but I obediently drop to my knees, my face still pressed against the cold rock. My hands tremble as they slide back to where his cock is pulsing, just inches from my face.

He takes several steps back.

“Turn around. Crawl to me.”

I turn around and crawl to him, my knees sore on the hard, cold rock of the cave floor.

“Open your mouth,” he orders as I kneel in front of him. I do so, and I reach out to take him, my hands trembling as I wrap them around its length.

”Good girl,” Dixon says, his voice rough with desire. ”Now, put that mouth to good use.”

I lean in, my tongue flickering at the tip of his cock. He groans, reaching down to thread his fingers through my hair, guiding me in my exploration. I slide my tongue along the length of his shaft, feeling the veins that pulse beneath the skin, tasting the saltiness of his desire. Dixon”s hips buck, pushing himself deeper into my mouth, and I take him further, my throat stretching to accommodate him. His breathing becomes more ragged, his body trembling with the desire that”s building up inside him.

His fingers tighten in my hair, pulling me closer to him, and I know he”s close. I speed up my movements, taking him harder and faster, my lips and tongue working in tandem to bring him the release he”s been craving.

“That”s it,” he moans, his voice hoarse with pleasure. ”Fuck, you”re good at this.”

A moment later, he groans loudly, his hips thrusting as his orgasm overtakes him. The warmth of his come floods into my mouth, and I swallow it, savoring the taste of him. When he pulls out of my mouth, I stay on my knees, my head down, my cheeks flushed, my body thrumming from the experience of making him climax and hoping he will finally let me come.

Dixon pulls me up, wrapping his arms around me, crushing me to his chest.

“You”re mine,” he whispers in my ear, his voice rough with emotion. ”And I”m going to make sure you never forget it.”

His lips find mine, and our tongues dance together, our bodies entwined in a way that leaves no doubt about who owns whom. I can feel the strength of his chest, feel his cock still hard and pulsing against me. I rock my hips back and forth and the head of his cock brushes my pussy, sending a jolt of pleasure racing through my body. He moans, and better still, doesn’t stop me, so I do it again. Another jolt, stronger this time. I moan, reach between us and take hold of his cock, holding it in place while I rock myself back and forth, grinding my pussy against his dick.

“Please, Dixon,” I gasp. ”Please, let me come.”

“I think you’ve earned it, Alexandra,” he says. ”But first, I need to make sure you”re ready for what”s coming.”

He pulls me back by the hair, and as I protest, he spins me around to face away from him. I gasp, my legs shaking, my body ready. He positions me on my hands and knees, my ass high in the air, offering myself to him. His breath is hot against my skin and he presses his body close to mine, his cock throbbing against my entrance. I whimper, aching to feel him finally take me.

”Is this what you want, Alexandra?” he asks, his voice a rough whisper. ”To submit to me completely, to let me take you any way I choose?”

”Yes,” I moan.

His hand slices through the air, striking my ass with a force that makes me gasp and bite my lip. I feel more alive than I ever have before, the pain and pleasure mingling together in a way that drives me wild. He spanks me again, this time harder, and I cry out.

Then there’s a pause.

I hear something — wet — and then feel his hands brush my ass.

I know what he wants, and I want it, too. I nod my head, and then I have time to release a deep, needy breath just before his finger enters me. Gently at first, loving and dominating at the same time.

I breathe, relax, submit.

Soon, I feel his cock against my ass. “Ready?”

“I am.”

He enters me.

A slow, careful thrust that fills me deep.

The stretch of my body fills with his presence. I cry out, the pain and pleasure mingling in a way that leaves me lightheaded. Dixon”s hands grip my hips firmly, holding me in place as he moves inside me. His thrusts are slow and deliberate at first, savoring every inch of my body.

”You feel so good,” he growls, his voice low and filled with lust. ”This is how you belong to me.”

My body responds to his words, moaning and bucking back against him, meeting his thrusts with eager desperation. The sound of our bodies coming together fills the cave, the only sound in the world, the only thing that matters.

”Please, Dixon, harder,” I beg, my voice barely more than a whisper. ”Fuck me, make me yours.”

He obeys, his thrusts becoming more forceful, his cock filling me deeper and harder with every stroke. I cry out at the sensation, my body trembling with pleasure.

”That”s it, Alexandra. Take it, take what”s yours,” he growls, his grip on my hips tightening. “Touch yourself. I want you to come while I fuck you in the ass.”

I reach between my legs, stroking my clit while he fucks my ass. The orgasm that has been waiting inside me, building until I feel like I’m going to break, erupts. I scream his name, my body convulsing with pleasure as an orgasm surges through me, so intense I can barely breathe. Dixon continues to thrust inside me, his own climax approaching, the sound of his hips slapping against my ass echoing in the cave.

“I’m coming,” he moans.

As my orgasm subsides, my body trembles and my muscles clench around his cock, milking him for every drop. Dixon groans, his thrusts becoming erratic, his cock twitching inside me, the warmth of his come flooding into me.

He pulls out of me, his breaths ragged, and I collapse onto the ground, my body limp and spent.

”You”re mine, Alexandra. You”ll always be mine. And I will always take care of you. Whatever you need.”

I stare back at him, shaking, warmth and bliss blooming in my chest.

”I”m yours, Dixon.”

He leans down, kissing me passionately.

“And I’m yours. When things settle down, I want you to be my ol’ lady.”

A smile breaks across my face and how wonderfully preposterous that sounds; I want it, so dearly want it, that connection, that sense of belonging that I’ve craved ever since that fateful day. Yet how strange that I find fulfillment at the hands of the man I once wanted to murder? To go from calling him my soon-to-be victim to my ol’ man?

“I’d like that.”

Another kiss. Slow, deep, and then he stands and offers me his hand.

“Let’s get out of here before the tide traps us. We have work to do.”

That word — work — cuts right through the peaceful illusion. Still, I keep it off my face; Dixon is smiling, and I like his smile, and I don’t want the frown that I feel in my heart to do anything to shake that smile off his face.

Still, as I follow him out of the cave, I can’t help but wonder where this road we’re traveling together will take us.

And what the revenge I crave will cost me.