Chapter 21
dax
When I think I’m not under this woman’s spell, something pulls me back in. Not even something she’s consciously doing. Nope, it’s the essence of Clementine.
The way she’s so surprised when I do nice things for her.
Scratch that. She’s shocked. Stunned, even. As if no other man in her life has gone even a little above and beyond for her.
I haven’t asked much about her ex, but I’ve confirmed he’s a douche who she doesn’t want to talk about. I have to wonder if it’s shame or guilt about her actions rather than his, which I truly hope isn’t the case. I won’t push her to talk about him unless she wants to. He’s not a threat to me.
As I maneuver the cart around the store, wandering through the holiday aisles, she’s animated about every item she puts in the cart, talking to herself about what it’s for and how she’ll use it.
It’s adorable, and if we hadn’t already planned on a quickie after this, I’d be begging to take her in the truck if need be.
Yes, I’m that desperate for this woman. I don’t understand it either.
She holds some knit fabric against my chest. “This color will do,” she claims as she puts the entire roll into the cart.
“Do you need that much?” Not that I’m questioning her tactics—it’s evident she knows what she’s doing—but what if someone else needs some of this red fabric, too? She’s only making one sweater.
Her hands on her hips, she nails me with a glare. “Have you ever bought fabric like this before?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so. Want to trust me?” So much sass in one question, I can’t but take action.
Without thinking, I crowd her space, so close her head tips back to peer up at me, the light layer of makeup she wears on full display.
My vision falls to her chest, swelling with deeper breaths.
Knowing I affect her so strongly is a turn-on.
A power trip. Because it’s only fair I’m not the only one affected.
“Yep.” I say nothing else, and I step back, leaving her more flustered, my gaze trained on hers, watching how my one-word answer confuses her. This time, it’s because she wasn’t expecting it, and she’s aroused. Her erratic breathing gives her away.
As for me, I have to turn around and exit the aisle to get a handle on myself. If I thought I was in over my head before, it’s nothing compared to now.
Who knew a fiery, petite redhead could be my Achilles heel?
Clementine finds me a few minutes later, mostly calm and collected—both of us—neither of us mentioning what happened. It’s probably for the best until we’re alone.
Naked and alone.
In my bed.
And here I go again. Getting all worked up in the scrapbook aisle.
Clementine assesses the cart. “My list is almost done. Was there much else you needed?”
“Anything else you can think of for the North Pole decorations.” If she’s bothered by my giving her another task, she doesn’t let it show.
“We’ll need large pieces of cardboard, but I’m not sure they sell that here.”
“I’ll put out a call on social media. Someone in town will have some for free.”
“Perfect. Reusing materials is better for the environment. And cheaper on the wallet, too.”
Asking about her finances would be rude, but she’s made a few comments here and there, leading me to believe they’re a little variable. Not that I’m one to judge. I’ve had my fair share of money problems in the past.
“For sure. Why spend money on something someone will give you for free if you ask?”
She points a finger in my direction. “I love when you speak my language.”
I’m unsure what to make of her statement, but thankfully, she heads toward the back of the store to a fabric counter.
She asks for two yards of the red fabric as well as smaller pieces she picked out for the boys’ elf hats, and the worker measures and cuts them, and hands them over, keeping the rolls behind the counter.
Clementine tries to hide her smirk, but she’s not successful.
I follow her to the front of the store to checkout.
We load everything on the belt, and she doesn’t balk when I remind her I’m paying for everything.
Except for maybe one or two supplies she picked up for herself, I’m responsible for the rest. I like how she lets me pay for her two things. It makes me feel needed.
Having been a while since I’ve felt needed, I’d almost forgotten how much of a rise I get.
Outside, we load the supplies into the covered flatbed and then climb into the cab. “Let’s order dinner now so by the time we get back to Winterberry, we won’t be waiting on it.”
Clementine checks her phone. “I allotted more time for shopping. We were quick. Whatever shall we do with the bonus time?” Knowing exactly what she’s doing, she bats her eyes coyly.
Two can play this game. I waggle my brows. “First, we’ll feast on food. Then, perhaps, we’ll feast on something different.”
I don’t miss the way her eyes divert to my groin area. “Yeah, a meal of meat should satisfy the craving.”
If I continue to engage in this conversation, I won’t make it home without mauling her. “Did you decide what you want from the tavern?”
“Yep, I’ll have the buffalo wings and a small house salad.”
“Do you mind calling it in? I’ll have the angel hair with shrimp.”
While she does that, I start up the truck, getting us on our way to more pressing matters.
By the time we’re back at my house and scarf down dinner, I’m raring and ready to go. Forgoing the foreplay for now, I instruct, “Naked and on the bed. I want you wet and ready for me.”
Clementine stumbles on her way to the bed. “Fuck, Dax.” The way she pants out the words indicates I should keep at it.
My eyes never leave her as she obeys my command, shedding every layer of clothing, including her under layers. She hops up onto my bed, situating herself against the headboard on top of the covers.
Knowing she was coming here, I changed the sheets and made the bed before work. “Sheets are clean. If you’re cold. Not to cover up,” I amend. I don’t want her to think she can hide from me.
“I’m only cold because you’re still dressed. What’s that about?”
Her words process slowly. I’m so fixated on her, homing in on every inch of her nakedness, the fact I’m still dressed doesn’t register immediately. When it does, I can’t get them off fast enough.
“Much better,” Clementine coos, nodding her approval. “Come, join me.” Her legs hide under the covers, but her torso is on full display, her breasts begging for attention. Except we have a time limit, and they may have to wait until next time.
Next time.
Will there be a next time?
Nope, can’t think like that. Gotta stay here in the present. If I only get her this once, I’m going to make it worth both our whiles, even if it’s quick.
I grab a condom from the nightstand drawer and rest next to her on the bed. “How ready are you?” I pose.
The vixen reaches under the covers and pulls out her fingers, glistening with moisture. “Will you judge me if I tell you I’ve been wet since you issued the words ‘same time tomorrow?’”
My cock stands at attention as I move the covers out of my way, positioning myself between her legs. “Judge you? Never. I’m gonna celebrate it.” As much as I want my cock to be buried inside her, I need a taste. I encourage her thighs wider and stare at her glistening pussy. It’s a sight.
In one lick, I sweep my tongue up her opening, appreciated by a drawn-out moan from Clementine.
“Do it again,” she says, nearly out of breath. Not to sound egotistical, but I’m patting myself on the back at her responsiveness.
“Picassa, I’m just getting started.”
“Hurry. I’m on the edge, and we don’t have all day. Especially since one isn’t going to nearly satisfy this beast.” I peek up from between her legs. She stares back at me, lust swimming in her green orbs.
“Patience.”
“Got none left. Need a release. I could help myself—” I catch her wrist as she tries to snake her hand down.
“Not. Happening.”
She smirks, the little vixen. “Good. Your tongue will be way better.”
To prove her right, I get to work, licking, sucking, nipping her most sensitive area. She gets wetter with each stroke of my tongue, and moans spill out of her mouth at a quick rate.
“Yes. Right there. Don’t stop. I’m close. So close. Don’t you dare stop what you’re doing. Dax, I mean it.”
I can’t be certain she knows what she’s saying, but I’m not a fool to quit.
My hands find her hips as my mouth assaults her, her taste sweet on my tongue. The perfect after-dinner dessert.
I swirl my tongue around her clit and lick up her slit, varying the speed and intensity. I can tell she’s close by the way she grinds against me. “Let go, Clementine,” I instruct.
“Ahhhhh.” Her cries fill my room, and her body lets go, wetness coating my tongue as it spills out of her. Lapping up every drop, I don’t want to miss an ounce of her sweetness.
When she’s done and I’ve cleaned her up, I quickly roll on a condom. My cock is steel, needing a release like I need air.
Her body boneless, Clementine lies on my bed, her eyes closed and her chest rising and falling erratically. I lean in for a kiss, stalling only when I realize she might not want that. Not all girls want to taste themselves.
Her green scrutiny reflects at me. “Kiss me.”
I raise a brow. “Yeah? Wasn’t sure you’d be into it.”
“Won’t know unless we try. If I don’t like it, we’ll stop.”
Her words slam into me. My torso rears back. “Wait, you’ve never done it?”
“Honestly, no one’s ever tried. I’ve never been curious enough to ask. Until now. Until you.”
Fueled by her comments, I lower my mouth. “If it’s a no-go, say the word.”
“K.”
My lips meld with hers, and she sinks into the kiss immediately.
Like I don’t have her secretions smeared all over me, I kiss her, not holding back.
She’s an eager participant and loops her hands around my neck, tugging me closer to her.
Much as I want to know how she feels, I don’t let up.
It can’t be bad enough since she hasn’t asked to stop.
With our lips connected, I shift my thighs between hers, lining up at her entrance, poised to push inside. One thrust, and I’m in.
Perhaps I should be more of a gentleman and make sure she’s ready, but when she barely reacts to the intrusion, I’m assured I’m good to press ahead.
I like how pliant and receptive she is to sex. How she goes with what I propose, yet isn’t afraid to ask for and take what she wants.
Needing oxygen, my lips drift from her lips to her neck. Her head tilts back, and her moans fill the space again. Sexy moans full of enjoyment.
I pull out, shove back in.
Repeat.
Do it again.
On a loop of chasing my release while Clementine seeks hers.
Her hands attack my back as her hips undulate and lift from the bed, matching my speed and rhythm.
“So good. So, so good. Used to think two in a row was a fallacy. Don’t let me down.”
“I got you.”
Although her words make sense, I question whether she knows what she’s admitting aloud. The pieces of her history she’s so easily handing over. Like her sweetness before, I’m guzzling every truth, adding them to the list of things I know about her.
Her vagina clamps tightly around me, and when the walls pulse stronger, I know she’s close. “Come for me.”
“So. Greedy,” she grits out, her orgasm pummeling her, the waves of ecstasy coursing through her, ratcheting my need for release. “Coming. Fuckkkkkk.” Her fingers dig into my back as she rides out her orgasm.
I chase mine, pulling out and pushing in at a faster pace, coming on a growl, the release so strong, it nearly knocks me out. I’m barely able to keep myself up on my forearms, cognizant not to topple and crush Clementine.
Riding it out until the bitter end, emptying everything inside me into the condom, needing to get it all out.
My breathing mirrors the woman lying beneath me, sated and loose, a shy smile claiming her lips.
“That was incredible. Wish we had time for another round.”
I pull out, careful not to let the condom slip, pulling it off and tying it in a knot, disposing of it in the trash can on the side of the bed.
I lie down next to Clementine, feeling a mixture of relaxed and keyed up.
It’s a weird feeling, but I can’t read into it right now.
As she pointed out, we have little time left together.
I won’t waste it contemplating what I’m feeling.
“Anytime you want to go again, say the word.”
“I mean, yeah. But I can’t keep paying your niece to watch my boys so I can have sex.” There’s a bit of guilt in her tone, but again, we don’t have time to delve into it.
“She’d love it, but I understand. We’ll figure something out.”
Clementine pushes up, rearranging herself so her hands rest on my chest, her chin in her hands. “Will we?”
“Listen, if you think for one minute I’m done with this, done with you,” I correct, “you’re delulu.”
She chuckles, the sound ironically loud in the quiet room. “Deal. I don’t want to give this up.” She shakes her head. “Or you. I know we’re casual, friends with benefits, but it’s kinda superb.”
“Better than ‘kinda superb.’ But if you want to go with that, I’ll support it.”
Just until I can get her to see “casual” isn’t exactly what I have planned for her.
Not after tonight, yet another notion I don’t have time to contemplate now, no matter how deep it is.