I could feel his hot breath on my cheek as he pulled his lips away and gathered both hands in one of his own before pushing up my skirt with his free hand. The edge of the counter pressed into the back of my thighs as he yanked my panties down around my knees. My hungry grin let him know that, although I was struggling, I wasn’t fighting him off, but rather egging him on. I could see the wild desire in his eyes as he unzipped his pants and then positioned himself between my legs. I moaned loudly as he pressed himself against my warm, wet opening and then growled, “Mine!” as he thrust up into me. I cried out as we moved together, building a rhythm.
Dax let go of my hands and I buried my fingers in his dark curls as I spread my legs and tried to push him deeper inside me. There was a savage need driving us both as we found ourselves entwined in a brutal kiss as our bodies pounded together. And then he slipped a hand between us and began stroking me in a way that I’d only ever done myself. I cried out as his fingers quickly brought me to a climax that consumed my entire body.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” I moaned as I sloshed water over the edge of the tub, spasming on the hand that had stroked me over the edge. When the pulsing sensation had abated, I opened my eyes and drew a deep breath as I looked around the calm quiet bathroom and realized that I was, again, alone.
“Dammit!” I muttered as I pulled the plug with my toes and sat in the tub watching the water slip down the drain.
Chapter Eleven
Dax
When Payton emerged from her building, I was leaning against the back end of the Lincoln suddenly wishing I had worn looser jeans.
“You look amazing,” I said as she crossed the sidewalk smiling. Her blonde hair was loose and wavy across her shoulders and she was wearing a deep-blue halter dress that clung to all the right places and made me wonder if she was wearing anything underneath it.
“Well, thank you, Mr. Connor,” she said, staring up into my eyes in a way that made me feel like she knew what I was thinking. “You clean up pretty nicely yourself!”
I laughed as I opened the door and watched her expose a good deal of tanned thigh as she slid into the car. I took a deep breath as I closed the door behind her and then used the walk around the car to try and get myself under control. If I was going to pursue Payton, I was going to have to keep my primal desires in check this evening — even if she pushed me past to the breaking point.
I was more than familiar with the delicate dance between men and women at this level, and knew that having sex with her before she was convin
ced that I was in it for real would lead to nothing good. I needed Payton to believe that she was more than just a one-night stand, and sex on the first date would not convey that notion.
“So, where would you like to dine, Ms. Lasky?” I asked as I settled into the car a safe distance from her.
“Well, I was thinking about the options, and I’m going to say that Girl and the Goat is a better choice tonight,” she replied. “I’m not going to pretend that we’re just like everyone else in this town, but I do think that we have a better chance at having a private conversation at Girl than we do at a communal table at The Publican.”
“Good thinking,” I nodded as I picked up my phone and canceled the second reservation. I leaned forward slightly and said, “Geo, to Girl and the Goat.”
“So, how about the Seahawks,” Payton said as she turned to look at me. Her face was even prettier than I remembered, and I smiled as I thought about how the spray of freckles across her nose reminded me of a surfer girl I’d met on the coast of Southern California the summer after I’d left Chicago looking for something meaningful. She’d been a good friend to me, but had never let me get close enough to be more, and while I’d lamented the lost opportunity, I’d always admired her ability to maintain a boundary that I had desperately wanted to cross without rejecting me outright.
“Yeah, they’re going to be tough to beat this season,” I nodded trying to keep my mind on business and off the fact that Payton’s perfume had wound its way into my senses, and was working its sexy magic on me.
“That’s the understatement of the century!” she laughed as she eyed me suspiciously. “What’s wrong with you, Connor? Did you start drinking without me?”
“No!” I shot back a little too defensively and then immediately dialed it back down. I quickly covered by turning the spotlight back on her, saying, “I’m just trying to figure out why a smart, accomplished woman like yourself was at Black Jack getting drunk and feeling up a complete stranger in the bathroom.”
“Oh, yeah, that,” she said reddening a bit as she looked away. She smiled and shrugged, “Bad day; what can I say? We all have them.”
“Nice save, though I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not,” I said smiling as we pulled up in front of the restaurant. Payton’s laugh echoed on the sidewalk as she exited the car and waited for me to join her. I motioned toward the restaurant and let her walk ahead of me.
“Eyes on up, Connor,” she teased as she swayed her hips in an attempt to catch me off guard. Having been caught, it was my turn to laugh, and I did. There was something about her that was mysteriously familiar, and her teasing humor put me at ease.
Once seated at a private table toward the back of the restaurant, I ordered a bottle of wine and sat back as I scanned the menu. Normally, I’d look for something familiar and quickly choose it so as not to have to ask questions. I wasn’t a foodie by any stretch of the imagination, but I did appreciate a good meal. However, many of the women I dated expected me to order for them, a tradition that I loathed and could not, for the life of me, understand. Women who defaulted to my choices didn’t get a second chance to assert themselves.
“Do you know what you’re having?” she asked as she stared intently at the menu, looking back and forth between the pages.
“I do, but—” I began hoping to ward off any suggestion that I order for her.
“I’m going to start with the kohlrabi salad, then try the calamari Bruschetta, and for dinner, I’ll have the braised pork shank,” she pronounced with a nod of her head.
“Whoa, eat much?” I laughed, surprised by her willingness to order so much food on a first date. I was much more used to women who ordered salads without dressing and steamed fish and vegetables.
“What? You have a problem with a woman who actually likes to eat?” she asked before lowering her voice and teasing, “If it’s the check your worried about, I’m more than happy to go Dutch, Connor.”
I laughed more loudly than I’d intended at the suggestion that money was the underlying issue when it came to her food choices.
“No, I’ve got my Am-Ex on me; I’m good,” I teased back as I looked at the menu again and decided to up my dinner game. When the server came to take our orders, Payton rattled off her choices and I followed up with roasted cauliflower, soft-shell crab, and roasted chicken.