Chapter Four #2
Emotion clogged her throat as he reached the chorus and she sung the powerful words in her head.
This man had really struck a chord inside of her.
He was good and kind and patient. He connected with her son, and lo and behold they had an even deeper connection.
What were the odds of Tom’s ex being married to Dax’s ex’s brother?
She already knew that he was doing all of this out of the goodness of his heart, because even though they were few and far between, good guys still existed.
But was it wrong of her to hope he was open to more?
That there was a reason her battery wouldn’t start behind his truck.
And then he was behind her on the road when she was struck by the Tesla.
And he had a house with a woodstove and a generator.
It wasn’t just pure coincidence, right?
After an endless stream of bad choices when it came to men, was the universe finally throwing her a bone and presenting her with a good one?
She’d be an idiot to ignore the signs. To ignore the stirring feelings in her belly.
When the song ended, he opened his eyes and smiled at her.
She met his gaze. “Kiss me.”
He blinked for a moment. “I’m not expecting—”
“I know. Kiss me.”
Conviction filled his eyes and he nodded, stood up and set the guitar back in its stand before he wrapped his hand behind the back of her head and took her mouth.
Nothing in Jennifer’s life had ever made sense until that moment. Or at least nothing made clearer sense than Dax’s lips on hers. Than Dax cradling her head, taking her mouth and filling her heart with hope.
After a moment, he pulled away, studying her. Checking in.
She blinked at him, her chest heaving. “Again.” Then she grappled at him, reaching for the hem of his Henley and peeling it over his head.
He stopped her once his shirt was off, his own chest rising and falling rapidly. His gaze roamed her face. “God, you’re beautiful.”
Like fireworks erupting inside of her, everything turned hot and sparkly. She stood up, tore off her coat, then peeled her long-sleeve black shirt over her head.
They were both shirtless, standing there, out of breath.
It was only for a few heartbeats, though, before they crashed back together and he guided her over to the blue velour couch, slowly lowering her and covering her with his hard body, their lips never coming unconnected.
She reached for the button of his jeans, but he moved his hand there to stop her. “I don’t have a condom.”
“I …” She exhaled, then growled and shut her eyes briefly. “Right. And I went off birth control three years ago because it was giving me horrible side effects.”
Leave it to responsibility and adult logic to sober the mood.
His head tilted to the side. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t help you.” He sunk to his knees and reached for the waistband of her dark gray leggings, pulling them, along with her underwear down over her legs to her ankles.
“You don’t have to,” she said, closing her knees and twisting away. “I know it’s—”
“It’s what?”
“Not your job.”
“No. It’s not.” He scrunched his nose in a cute way. “I’d consider it a hobby if anything. Because I enjoy it. And I would very much like to do it for you.”
“Y-you want to?”
His brows knitted to a V. “Jennifer, have you never had a man go down on you before?”
She bit her lip and shook her head.
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-five.”
He exhaled. “Well, we’ve got a lot of time to make up for then, don’t we?
” Then he gently spread her knees and inched his face forward, flicking out his tongue.
He hit her clit and her entire body nearly leaped off the couch.
“Just relax,” he purred, placing a big hand on her lower belly to help hold her still.
“Close your eyes and stop overthinking things.”
Swallowing, she did as she was told and shut her eyes.
What came next was nothing short of incredible.
His tongue laved at her clit in soft concentric circles before dipping down lower to her center, probing inside and then sweeping all the way up again.
Gently, he pressed one finger, then two inside her, crooking them forward until he really had to press down with his other hand to keep her pelvis from becoming airborne.
Sure, she’d had sex before and even orgasmed from time to time with a man.
And she also on occasion masturbated. Usually when she was having a hard time sleeping or had read a particularly spicy chapter in one of her romance books.
And she’d certainly read about the heroines in her novels getting oral sex from men, but she always figured the authors were overselling it.
Because surely, of at least the four men she’d been with in her life, one would have wanted to go down on her, right?
That’s when a terrifying thought hit her and she shoved up and away from Dax, kneeing him in the head in the process before she slammed her thighs closed.
He pressed his hand to his head, his eyes shut. “What happened?” he asked, in a daze. “Did I hurt you?”
“Do I taste bad?” she blurted. “Do I have a funny or weird, or gross smell down there?”
Still rubbing his head where she’d hit him with her knee, he peeled one gray eye open, the flecks of silver around his irises glowing like tinsel on a Christmas tree under the overhead lights. “What?”
“D-do I taste bad?”
“Why would you ask me such a thing?”
“B-because … I’ve been with four men in my life.
Only four. I know that number is low, but it is what it is.
I’m a serial monogamist. And I don’t put out on the first date.
” She paused. “I mean, this is a first for me. I don’t normally do …
this. And this isn’t even a date.” She slammed the heel of her palm to her forehead.
“Oh god. Is that worse? That we haven’t even been on a date and we’re … ?”
His hand landed on her knee. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You’re spiralling.
Take a deep breath.” He squeezed her knee as she closed her eyes and breathed in and out a few times to calm her nerves.
She opened them again and met his gaze once more.
“Your number, big or small doesn’t bother me.
What bothers me is that you think you have a bad taste or smell.
Did one of those men say that to you?” Was that anger flickering there in the silver now?
“You’re the first man who has ever gone down on me.
And I thought that, like, the authors of romance novels were overselling how great oral sex was because the four men I’ve been with have never wanted to do it.
They never offered. They made me do it for them, but they never even presented it as an option.
Their pleasure came first. So then I started to wonder maybe it was because I tasted bad or smelled bad. ”
“So you kneed me in the head?”
She scrunched her knees up to her chest and reached for her pants, but Dax caught them before she did and held them out of reach. With a huff, she stuck out her hand for them.
“No.” He shook his head. “You dated boys , Jennifer. Immature, selfish, idiotic boys . They didn’t deserve you. And you certainly didn’t deserve to be denied well … anything, let alone pleasure.”
She swallowed, her gaze on his shiny lips. Shiny from her arousal.
“Did it feel good?” he asked, not an ounce of humor or judgement in his tone or on his face.
Her nod was small.
“Because I was very much enjoying myself and I would like to continue if you would like me to continue.”
“I’m sorry I kneed you in the head.”
His chuckle made butterflies take flight in her belly. “Kiss it and make it better?” Then he leaned forward and she leaned forward, pressing his lips to his forehead. “Ahh. It’s like it never happened.”
Without warning, he grabbed her by the ankles and tugged, shooting her back to her back and her legs out in front of her, then he dove back in up to his ears and she almost kneed him in the head again when his tongue hit her clit.
She easily could have orgasmed probably three or four times, but every time she got close, Dax would do something to pull her back from the edge.
In her romance books this was called edging.
And she never really thought about how good but also frustrating it could be.
Because boy was she frustrated. Her body hummed for release like an overpopulated beehive, and yet, she also never wanted it to end.
Dax’s lips, tongue and fingers were magical, and even though she thought all the tension had left her body from the bath and nap, she must have had hidden reserves, because the longer Dax ate her out, the more and more she simply melted into the moment and let all her problems drift away.
“Ready to come for me?” he murmured against her center, the words a buzz on his lips that was like a gentle electric shock through her pussy.
“Mhmm.”
“Good girl.” Then he pulled her clit into his mouth and sucked hard while at the same time pressing up with his fingers as he pumped them in and out of her.
She exploded.
It was the best orgasm of her life. It went on for the length of maybe five regular orgasms, building momentum like a snowball down a ski hill, until it created an avalanche of sensations that rippled through her, crashing into every limb, every muscle, every cell.
By the time she regained function of her brain and body at the same time, a chill swept through her and goosebumps broke out across her bare arms and legs. She was still in her bra, but bare everywhere else. Sweat misted her chest and forehead and her pulse thundered in her ears.
But she was happy.
Unbelievably happy. Tension free and … most of all, safe.
She felt so incredibly safe.
Safe to be vulnerable.
Safe to be real.
Safe to be without her child. Because she knew he was okay in the house with Phil and Gloria. And she also knew that he would be safe out here with Dax. Just like she was safe out here with Dax.
She’d never felt so safe and at peace. Not since Levi was born at least. Possibly ever.
Tears of pure joy pricked the back of her eyes and she swallowed.
Blinking open her eyes, she glanced down her body only to find Dax gone.
Fresh fear filled her, squashing those last flickers of delight.
She did taste bad. He went to brush his teeth or find a Tic Tac. She knew it.
“Here,” he said, coming from where he said his recording studio was.
He handed her a glass of water and draped a blanket over her.
“There’s a sink and toilet just in there so I don’t have to run all the way into the house to pee or make tea.
” He sat down on the couch beside her, reached over and tucked a loose strand of her dark blonde hair behind her ear.
“Want to talk about what just happened?”
“I um …” She sipped her water. “I come with some baggage.”
“I’m fifty years old. I haven’t met a soul over twenty-five who doesn’t come with some kind of a suitcase.
It’s what makes us who we are. It’s part of our story.
” He shrugged. “I used to be hardcore into drugs and in a metal band called Chiseled Gizzard. I don’t remember a good three years of my life after Amy left.
I also had a deadbeat dad who used to use my mom as a punching bag.
My mom died a few years ago after a terrible battle with ALS, and it damn near killed me, too.
Watching a loved one, particularly someone who for my entire life had been nothing but a pillar of unwavering strength, go through what she did, was traumatizing.
I would have done anything to take away her pain. ”
She reached up and cupped his jaw. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist.
“I still have the odd beer or glass of wine, but I haven’t touched drugs in almost eight years. I’ve never been so close to using as I was that first month after my mom died. Just to numb the pain, even temporarily.”
“I’m really sorry, Dax.”
He cleared his throat. “All I’m saying is that we all come with baggage and trauma and hangups. So if you think telling me you have baggage is supposed to scare me away or something, then you need to try harder.”
“I’ve never met anybody like you. You’re so …
open and honest. You own your past, your mistakes, your pain.
And yet, you’re also one of the most altruistic, kind people I’ve ever met.
All your baggage hasn’t done anything to harden your tender heart.
” She laced their fingers together and brought the back of his hand to her mouth. “I really like you, Dax.”
“Well, I really like you, too, Jennifer. And my life has done a number on me. I wasn’t always like this.
I’ve had to do the work to find the peace I have now.
I just know that this life, and living to be fifty is a gift I’m not necessarily sure I deserve.
I made some stupid choices in my younger years.
Made some mistakes that should have gotten me killed.
But I’m still here and I don’t take a day for granted anymore. ”
“That’s a very peaceful way to live.”
“I try to live peacefully. Just me, the goats and the chickens.” He did the cute nose wrinkle again.
“I want a dog. But any rescue I’ve brought for a visit has tried to kill my chickens.
So they haven’t stayed. We need to all coexist in peace here.
And if you’re trying to kill a family member, then you get voted off the island. ”
“The tribe has spoken.”
They both laughed and she leaned her head on his shoulder. “Do you um …”
“Hmm?” He kissed the top of her head.
“Do you have condoms in the house?”
His chuckles made her pussy throb. “I have a whole box.”