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~Cora~
IT HAD BEEN A LONG night, but one that was a long time coming. I couldn’t believe Mark had pulled that stunt at the hotel. And my father was no better. Every time I thought about that dinner—and Mark’s insistence we’d be getting married—I wanted to scream. It was unbelievable how he ignored my words and what I tried to tell him.
The look on Dixon’s face was etched into my memory. If there was one good thing that came out of Mark’s high-handed behavior, it was that I’d told Dixon everything. Now he knew about Mark, about my father, how they had “plans” for me I had no interest in. We didn’t get a chance to talk about what I wanted to do with my life, but I now had the impetus to stand up for myself.
I would not let either of them talk—or walk—over me anymore. And that started with my father. I took a deep breath in through my nose, releasing it out through my mouth. The moment of truth was here, and I was determined to be heard this time.
The door to his office was open, but I knocked on the doorframe anyway, to get his attention. Before I could chicken out, I stepped in and closed the door behind me. “Dad, we need to talk.”
“Cora. Yes, I think we do.” He closed out the program on the computer screen and focused his attention on me. “Last night—”
“Last night was the last time I’ll be having dinner with Mark. It’s done, Dad. It’s more than done. I’m not interested in him. Not going to date him. Not going to marry him. Not going to start some family dynasty with him.” I planted my feet in a wide stance, ignoring the swirling in my stomach but concentrating on getting the words out before he dismissed them.
“What? Young lady, you do not know what you are talking about. Mark is a good man—comes from the best family. He’s in the who’s-who of law in the Northeast. He’ll make a fine husband...and father.” His volume grew with each declaration.
“If he’s such a catch, you marry him, Dad. I’m done with him. We grew up together...there’s no spark...no fire. When he kissed me, it was like kissing a snake. All it did was leave me cold and wanting to run away. That’s not exactly marriage material, is it?”
His expression turned from mild outrage to an uncomfortable grimace. “I don’t want to hear those kinds of details about my daughter and her husband-to-be. There are just some things that should not be discussed.”
My jaw dropped. He still wasn’t listening. I leaned over the desk. “Dad, I love you. I do. But I will not be marrying Mark. Ever. Never. Not happening. And if you don’t want to hear about my sex life, I’m totally fine with that. But know that it does not, and never will, include Mark.” I straightened up. “I am seeing someone but I don’t know that things are serious yet.” I hesitated at what felt like a lie. “But it’s clear to me that my choice will not be Mark.”
“Cora, what is going on? I thought you and Mark were having a few bumps in the road, but he assured me—”
“And that’s the problem, Dad. He told you...neither of you have listened to me over the past ten months when I’ve tried to tell you I’m not interested. If you wanted to make sure everything was all right, you should have talked to me. Not him. I’m your daughter. You should care about what I want, not about what your lawyer wants.”
“Mark can give you a safe, stable future. The world’s your oyster...there’s nothing he wouldn’t get for you. All you’d need to do is ask.” My father’s disbelieving look was only matched by his incredulous tone at the thought of taking my feelings into account.
I dropped into the chair, exhausted from the previous night and the energy it was taking to get my point across. But my father needed to hear the truth from me...all of it.
I drew in a deep breath. “I know you think a future with Mark is safe. That he can provide for me. But life is more than just money...more than financial security. At least, I want my life to be more than that. I want to spread my wings, Dad, and a life with Mark isn’t going to let me do that. He’s concerned with social status, with image—”
“What’s wrong with a good image? Having a good social standing?” The words puffed out of his mouth so fast they seemed to knock me over.
“Dad, it’s just not me. I don’t care about all of that. I don’t want to go to galas and dinners and charity events. I don’t want to be some prop used to make a point.” I stared at the carpet, mindlessly tracing the pattern in my head as I tried to say the next part diplomatically. I looked back up and stared him in the eyes. “If I care about a cause, I want to do more than have a five-hundred-dollar-per-plate dinner and pat myself on the back. I’d rather be helping people directly...see the impact of my time, my resources.”
The silence stretched, with the tick of the grandfather clock marking the time.
Then he took a deep breath and exhaled. “I appreciate your stance. If I’ve ever made you feel like a ‘prop,’ it was not my intention.” He looked away, his gaze softening as it landed on the photo of my mother. “She loved them, you know...the parties and galas...and I thought that—I don’t know...that you did, too. That you were somehow continuing what she started.” He looked at me.
“Dad, I’m not her. I loved Mom, but I can’t be a replacement for her. I have different dreams. And they don’t include Mark, charity events, or...” I faltered. We hadn’t had a deep, honest discussion about much since Mom died. Should I keep going with more truths he might not be ready to hear, or stop and let him hear me on the Mark issue?
“I want to go out on my own. I’ve been waiting for the right time to talk to you about it, and this is it.” I straightened in my chair and made sure I had his full attention before I kept going. “Once my inheritance is mine, I want to use Grandmother’s old cottage and run my own bed-and-breakfast.”
My father’s eyes bulged and his jaw hung slack.
––––––––
DIXON HAD TEXTED ME during the day, checking in. He asked me to meet him at Jake’s, and by the time five o’clock rolled around, I was more than ready for a drink.
As I tucked my keys in my purse and made my way into the bar, it occurred to me I’d had more to drink in the last few weeks than the last six months. Not that I thought I had some kind of problem with alcohol now, but a better appreciation of taking time to relax and kick back—and how a drink or two wasn’t the end of the world, no matter what my father had told me over the years. I was still a lightweight, so I’d never be one to drink much, but I could see the appeal of getting lost in the giddy feeling of actually being drunk.
Dixon was at the bar, chatting with Shayla. With his attention elsewhere, I could take my time in appreciating his physical traits. The strong back. The muscled arms. A tight butt. The rhythm of my heart did a hop-skip when I remembered being in his arms that first night we met. The way he seemed to look inside me in a way no one ever had before—where he recognized me somehow.
He must have realized I was there, because he turned around on the barstool and gave me a smile that sent tingles all the way down to my toes.
“Hey there. I was wondering when you’d be here. How’d things go with your dad?” He stood and met me halfway, leaning over to give me a kiss on the cheek. “Or did you not have time to talk to him?”
“Let’s grab a table. But first,” I looked over at Shayla, “can we get a couple beers? And an order of wings.” I took a few steps toward the back tables.
“And two salads, Shayla.” Dixon’s laugh followed his order to complete our meal. “Can’t forget to eat my greens, you know.”
I turned back to face him. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he laughed quietly at his teasing.
“Look at you...being all responsible and all, ordering salad. I guess I’m rubbing off on you.” I smiled back at him as we slid into the booth seats.
“I guess there are worse things than a salad once in a while. But at least you ordered a beer to wash it down with.”
His steady gaze held me in place. I was the center of his attention, and warmth infused my body. I could say anything, and he’d let me. He’d hear me. He’d understand. Or if not understand, at least let me be me. Quite the reverse from my father, the one person who’d known me the longest and should be someone who could do that. Our conversation was still running through my head, but I didn’t want to dwell on it now. I just wanted to be with Dixon.
“So, tell me about how things went with your dad. Did you get your point across to him? Is he gonna give up on the Mark thing?” Dixon glanced at the table and fidgeted with the placemat. When he looked back up, he ventured, “Did you tell him about me?”
I took a deep breath. “Yeah, we talked. I’m not sure how much good it did, though. He is stuck on setting me up with a ‘good future’—whatever that is. Well, for him, it’s Mark and security and high society. I told him that if he thought Mark was such a catch, he should marry him.” I laughed, remembering Dad’s look of confusion at that remark.
Dixon let out a huff. “Well, he’s your dad. He probably thinks he has to look out for you. You could do worse, trust me. At least you still have him.” His attention drifted off to the side before he looked back at me. “What did you say about me?”
The whispered question seemed important to him, like the quieter he asked it, the easier it would be to hear the answer he didn’t want to hear.
“I told him I’d met somebody and that even though I didn’t know him very well yet, I was more interested in pursuing something with him than anyone else...Mark included. Especially more than Mark. That Mark was like a cold snake that I couldn’t get away from fast enough.” I wasn’t sure what Dixon needed to hear from me, but that was the truth. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, and all the tingles and heart-stopping reactions to everything he did.
I reached over the table. “So, what does a girl have to do to get to know the real Dixon Reed?”
He put his hand over mine, and soon his gentle caress had those tingles running up my arm and zinging my heart.
“Well,” he smiled, “I guess another date might be in order.”
“Here you go, Dixon. Two salads, two beers, and wings.” Shayla dropped off the order and gave me a smile. “Cora, make sure he eats all that salad, now. Every man needs a balanced diet.” She winked at me before she turned away, headed back to the kitchen.
I picked up my fork. “Another date, huh? Maybe after you eat your veggies, we’ll get that dessert you keep promising me. After all, dessert is my favorite.” At his low groan, I looked at him.
“You drive a hard bargain, but if eating a salad means we’re having dessert, I’ll deal with it.” He picked up his fork. “But whatever shall we talk about while we eat this balanced diet?” The twinkle in his eye belied his curious tone.
“Tell me about your week.” I was more than ready to drop the subject of my father and Mark. I wanted to learn more about the man in front of me, the man who made time stop for me, and soak up his presence.
He seemed to gather his thoughts, picking up a chicken wing and pulling it apart. “Not much to tell, really. Still working the demo part of the job. The foreman is cool to work for but he’s a stickler for cleanup each night before we leave. That’s the only thing he’s kind of a pain in the ass about. I’m looking forward to starting the remodeling part, though.” He popped a piece of meat in his mouth and chewed.
Watching a guy eat should not be so engrossing, but I couldn’t keep my gaze from him. His eyes seemed to focus on me, penetrating a layer I’d never realized was there and finding the real me under it. His chewing slowed, and he reached for his beer.
“You know, you keep looking at me like that, and I’m gonna think we need to skip dinner and take care of that dessert you’re wanting.” He swallowed some beer and set the bottle down.
“Well, maybe we should live a little and shake things up. You know...dessert before dinner.”
––––––––
I SHOULD HAVE BEEN ashamed about it, but walking out of Jake’s—past Shayla, Jake, the bouncer, the crowd—knowing that we were headed to Dixon’s place, I was excited. Eager. A little light on my feet. A little light in my head, too, I guess. And I hadn’t even had any of my beer.
The walk to his apartment over the bar was a blur. The only thing I was aware of was the electric current from his fingers to mine, clasped together.
Once he had the door open, he pulled me in, shut it with his foot, and swirled me around until I was pressed up against the door. Then he pressed himself closer.
“God, I’ve been thinking about you all day...all night, every night.” He nuzzled my neck, taking little love bites between words. The hard planes of his body found all my soft places, molding us together. He pulled back. “You still good with dessert before dinner?”
“Oh, yeah. Dessert before dinner is never a bad idea.” I slid my arms around his neck, pulling him closer for a kiss. Our tongues danced together, teasing and drawing out moans. From me or from him...I couldn’t tell. Maybe both.
My heart beat so fast, it should have jumped out of my chest. I took a steadying breath. It was all I could do to keep upright. That lightheaded feeling mixed with the zip and zing of Dixon’s touch, with my knees going weak. Thank goodness I was against the door, or else I’d’ve fallen over. As it was, my eyes couldn’t focus and fluttered closed in surrender.
“You are sweeter than any dessert I’ve ever tasted.”
Dixon came back in for another kiss, seeming to steal my breath with every word he spoke and every motion of his hands. Those tingling touches roamed from my hips up my torso, whispering right over the swell of my breasts.
My shirt and bra weren’t enough to hide the strength...the gentleness...of his fingers as they rubbed my nipples through the fabric. They pebbled in response, eager to rise to the caress. I pressed my chest closer to the source of the incoming pleasure, lost in the sensation. All too soon, the heavenly fervor faded when his hands stopped and the kiss ended.
“As much as I’m enjoying this, maybe we could move this to a bed.” His husky voice washed over me as he waited for my response. His hand held mine, ready to bring me with him once I agreed.
“Yes.”
The soft response galvanized Dixon. Quicker than I could say another word, he led me the few steps to that bed I’d spent the night in hardly more than a week ago. But this time, I wouldn’t be in that bed alone.
He moved to turn the light on, but I stopped his hand. Taking a few steps to the window, I adjusted the blinds to let in some light from the full moon. When I turned back to him, his eyes were focused on me, full of desire and something else I couldn’t quite figure out. But whatever it was, I wanted to see more of it.
“I don’t do this often, but I am on the Pill. Still...” I took a quick breath. “Do you have some protection? I don’t mean to imply anything—”
“It’s not a big deal. Yeah, I’ve got some condoms in the nightstand. We can use that, too, if that makes you feel better. It’s fine by me.” Dixon tilted his head toward the table, reaching out to open up the drawer and fishing out a foil package.
I wasn’t going to think too much about why he had a stash of condoms close by. I was going to concentrate on feeling those zips and tingles everywhere Dixon touched me, and let everything else go.
I lifted my shirt and pulled it over my head. His nostrils flared, but not a word came out of him. I put my hands on the snap of my jeans and popped it. The clicking of the zipper was the only sound in the room. Although I couldn’t imagine how he couldn’t hear my heart pulsing under his full attention. Once I shimmied out of the jeans, I took a step toward him.
Before my feet hit the ground, he was right there. Arms enveloped me and held me close. Now I heard his heart beat, and the wild sound matched my own. A hand moved up and cradled my head, bringing it into perfect alignment for another scorching kiss. The heat was still there, setting all my girly parts on fire, but a possessive tenderness came through too.
“Damn.”
The word glided near my ear, tickling me. Then I made some demands of my own. My fingers fumbled as I tried to find the edge of his T-shirt. Well, fumble...feel the six-pack abs...same thing, right? The chiseled chest came into view when he took a hand off me and helped get that pesky shirt off. I traced over the contours of his chest, with a little tweak of his nipple. I smiled at his tiny inhale.
Dixon’s eyes closed as I continued to roll my hand over his body.
A quiet hum filled the space between us as I felt over his muscled pecs. My fingers caught an old scar on his left shoulder. I rubbed it and looked at him.
He opened his eyes. “Not important. It was a long time ago.” He moved his hands behind my back, searching for the clasp of my bra. It was like butter under his hot touch and melted away, and he brushed the sides of my breasts as he fully removed the bra from my shoulders. “This is what is important. Now.”
Dixon returned the favor and plucked at my nipples. At my sigh, he turned up the heat and pinched. The slight sting and pressure had me leaning into him, asking for more. And more he delivered.
While he teased my breasts with one hand, the other wandered to the edge of my panties. The panties I couldn’t wait to be out of. The panties that proved no match for Dixon’s insistent hand. He slid a finger toward my wet folds, and then his hot mouth covered mine. His tongue demanded entry and then began its assault. Each move of his tongue was echoed in the action of his fingers: twisting, turning, teasing; faster, slower, faster again; wet and wild.
He turned us around so the backs of my legs hit the edge of the bed. He stepped between my legs and guided me back onto the comforter, fanning out my hair and running his hands down my body. Dixon grabbed the waistband of my panties and pulled them all the way down, carefully disentangling them from my feet.
“So beautiful.” A kiss landed on the side of my ankle. “So soft.” A kiss whispered against my calf. “So strong.” A little love bite on my thigh. “So much...more.” A breath blew over my mound, sending a shiver through my body. He gazed at the apex of my legs, taking a reverent inhalation.
“Oh God.” I wanted to burn under his touch, but right now I was consumed with his hands-off worship of my body. Such an intense stare would usually make me uncomfortable, but I was fascinated with his fierce stance. “I need you to touch me, Dixon.”
He ran his hands down from their position on my thigh, closing in on my center.
A flutter of a touch had me aching for more, seeking more than a tease. I needed those strong fingers, those strong hands, to find the key to opening the vault of heaven I was sure awaited us both. I thrust forward, looking for contact.
“Like this?” He plunged his fingers into my wet heat, and he bent his head.
After the sensation of being opened to his touch, the gentle lap of his tongue acted as a soothing contrast. But that balm was soon converted to a storm I couldn’t tame—didn’t even try to. The pressure, the suction, the swirl of his tongue had me clutching the bedspread under me. Each moment that passed drew me closer to a bliss I was begging him to deliver.
“Please...more...Dixon...” The words were incoherent, but the meaning clear.
He moved his tongue and fingers in unison, with a rhythm I found myself following. My hips bucked, until that final crescendo broke over me.
“Oh my God...” Breathless, I looked at Dixon.
His face, silhouetted between my legs, was still focused on my pussy. “Definitely sweeter than any dessert I’ve ever had.” He looked up at me, all intense and all-consuming. “Something I can’t seem to get enough of.”
Before I had a chance to respond, he dipped his head again, dropping little bites and smoothing licks. His attentions moved up my body, with special regard to my breasts. He cupped the fullness of each, with fingers dancing over my nipples, teasing them to hardness. After a moment of suckling, he blew a hot breath over them, causing them to harden further.
“But there’s more to dessert than just sweetness. There’s the decadent richness...” Dixon kissed the shell of my ear.
I swear, the man purred into my ear. The vibration had me shivering, with goose bumps forming all over my body. I couldn’t move, held hostage not just by his words but by the delicious feeling flowing through me.
“The gorgeous presentation...”
He stared at me, his eyes inviting me into their depths. I couldn’t have said a word, so mesmerized by his devotion to making me the center of his world.
“The temptation...” His mouth claimed mine, and all I wanted to do was take what he was offering.
“The sublime experience...”
After a crinkle of foil, and an eternity as I watched him sheathe himself, his rock-hard length found its home as he entered me.
His next kiss left me gasping for air. Our sweat-slicked bodies moved in unison, the only sound in the room our heavy breathing. He cradled my head, his strong fingers splayed at the base of my ear.
“Oh God!”
I wasn’t sure who let out the exclamation, but all I could do was drag him closer as he rocked in and out. Each thrust brought us closer...not just to each other, but to a climax that left both of us shuddering.