He was sleeping only one room away. I wanted to press my body against his, without the games, and find out if he felt like home to me.
Maybe I could try it just for a few minutes without waking him up.
I got out of bed, my heart racing at the thought of being near him. I tiptoed through the bathroom and slowly turned the knob. The door opened silently—of course Mason would have his hinges perfectly oiled.
Moonlight poured through the window, bathing Dix’s beautiful torso in a magical light. He lay on his back, the sheet at his hips.
The thought entered my mind again that he could make a lot of money modeling underwear. Then I remembered he already had a lot of money.
I was pretty sure he was stark naked under the sheet. Heat flashed over me as I envisioned running my tongue from his belly button, over his six-pack to his nipple.
But I reminded myself that wasn’t what I came for.
I saw some space on the other side of the bed, so I went around and climbed in. Propping my head on the spare pillow, I laid on one side and watched him sleep.
Chapter Eight
A warm hand invaded my dream, caressing my back, my bottom, my breasts. A strong arm squeezed me tightly against a hard, yet pliant, chest.
This was one dream I didn’t want to awaken from.
But the kiss on my shoulder, followed by the nibble on my ear told my conscious mind that something real was happening.
I opened my eyes. It was still dark out. I remembered not being able to sleep and climbing in bed with Dix. Apparently, I’d passed out shortly afterward.
I turned toward him.
“Get lost on the way back from the bathroom?”
Even in the dark, I could see his teasing smile. But I knew from the tone of his voice he didn’t want me to tease him back. He needed to hear me say what was in my heart.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I said. “I wanted to be close to you.”
His smile faded as his eyes grew more intense. He was reading my face, trying to determine if I was telling him the truth or saying what he wanted to hear.
It didn’t occur to me until then that he might have experienced a lot of women who told him whatever was necessary to get what they wanted from him.
I was so sorry I’d hurt him.
He adjusted his body and our hips met. His arousal pressed against my stomach.
He lifted his hand to my face, his fingers resting on my ear and scalp. His thumb skimmed up and down on my cheek.
As his face moved toward mine, I readied myself for a kiss.
But he stopped an inch short of the target and just watched me.
I wasn’t sure if he was savoring the moment or hesitant to cross over into this new state of intimacy, but I couldn’t wait.
I lifted off the pillow, and slanted my mouth over his. He grasped the back of my head and held me tightly to him as he eased back onto his pillow.
Now, I was on top. But before I could press my tongue into his mouth, he thrust into mine, invading me in a primal act of possession.
I whimpered and pushed my lips harder onto his. My breasts melded with his chest, my hands grasped at his biceps and squeezed the thick muscles in his shoulders.
He groaned and the pressure of his forearm on my back pushed the breath out of me. Most of my body was on top of him now—my chest on his, my thigh across his waist.
Grasping my shoulders, he pushed me away so I was staring into his face, my lips swollen from hard kisses.
“I like the games we play, Tessa,” he said. “But I don’t want to play games tonight.”
For a startling moment, I thought he was saying he didn’t want me. But I read his expression and realized what he meant.
He didn’t want to be boss and employee or master and slave. He wanted me, Tessa, to make love to him.
I tried to pull myself up, but realized he was holding my arms tightly.
“If I’m going to do this right, I’ll need a little slack,” I said.
He chuckled and released me. I straddled him, thrusting my hips so my wet slit slipped up and down his shaft.
He grabbed my thighs. “Take me, Tessa,” he said. “Before you kill me.”
I smiled, feeling pretty proud that Dixon Maddox, the most handsome, interesting man I’d ever met, wanted me so badly.
I raised up and came down on his rigid cock. As it slid inside me, I was shocked again at the extreme sense of fullness I experienced.
A few seconds of Dix inside me and I was stretched to my limits, physically and emotionally.
At that moment, I knew I’d never needed anything like I needed him.
Pressing my hands onto his pecs, I lifted myself slowly, relinquishing his shaft inch by inch.
His eyes darkened. He licked his lips then expelled a breath.
I was torturing him and enjoying the power of it.
After lifting almost completely off him, I began to slowly take him in again. He sucked in several staccato breaths.
His fingers dug into my hips as he forced me down until I enveloped him completely.
“Oh!” The stab of heat from his invasion penetrated every cell of my body.
I smiled at him and began to pull up gradually again.
Suddenly, he crushed me against him. He rolled us over and I found myself on the bottom. My hands were still stuck between us on his pecs, but he grasped my wrists and pinned them to the bed.
Panting, he stared into my eyes for a moment.
“What am I going to do with you, Tessa?” he murmured. “From the first day I saw you, I wanted to keep you.”
My mouth fell open. I needed to respond to a confession like that one, even though I wasn’t sure what I was going to say.
But he covered my lips with his. He pressed his tongue inside me and it moved as though searching.
I twined my tongue around his, trying to give him answers in the only way I could at that moment. My chest ached at the intimacy.
Dix and I were as close as we could possibly be and still I wanted more.
He groaned and pushed his hips forward, thrusting deep inside me. A tremor rocked my body, threatening to invade my soul.
I welcomed the intrusion, wrapping my legs around him, resting my calves against his ass as his muscles tensed and relaxed with each thrust.
He let go of my wrists, and I slid my fingers up his cheeks into his hair.
His entire body tensed and I knew he needed release.
When his lips left mine, he looked into my eyes. A shiver passed through him as his cock flexed inside me.
“This is…” His whisper died off and I knew he was at a loss to describe the intensity of the moment.
“I know,” I said.
His eyes fell closed and his body took control, plunging into me hard and fast.
“Oh…oh…Dix,” I sighed.
I wrapped my arms around him and pulled his weight onto me.
“I think I love you,” I whispered so quietly I didn’t know if he’d heard.
But he lifted his head and pressed his lips to mine in the most passionate kiss I’d ever experienced.
Something stabbed at my heart as his cock pushed even deeper inside me.
I jerked. He groaned. And we merged into one body-racking, soul-shattering orgasm together.
We held each other as long as we could, until it was clear to Dix I was barely breathing and he needed to move off me.
Once we’d recuperated, we enjoyed the most relaxed conversation we’d ever had…and the longest.
I told him the whole story about my mother and the struggles my siblings and I had been through to keep her as safe and happy as could be expected under the circumstances.
He told me about his mother’s heartbreaking early onset Alzheimer’s.
He said Mason still felt guilty about his decision to keep her at home with a nurse, since she’d died of an accident they probably could have avoided in a long-term care facility.
From what Dix said, Mason’s obsessive compulsive behaviors and sporadic germaphobia increased after his divorce and got even worse with the stress of his mother’s illness. The shrinks thought it was some sort of stress reaction, rather than true OCD.
I realized it had been ridiculous to obsess over the fact that Dixon had more money than I did. Nobody’s life was perfect.
The Maddox boys seemed to have everything to the outside observer, but really they just wanted what anyone else wanted—the well-being of family members, honest relationships, someone to love…
At least I hoped that was what Dix wanted.
I fell asleep in his arms as the sun began to peek over the horizon.
*****
I awoke to the smell of bacon frying. Dix wasn’t in the room, but there was a fluffy robe on the bed and a note that said, “Making your breakfast. Meet me downstairs when you wake up.”
Making me breakfast? I thought men only did that in movies.
I found my purse and grabbed the clip out of it so I could put my hair up and wash off. Even though I’d taken a bath the night before, there’d been a lot of sweaty sex in between.
But I didn’t want to keep Dix waiting, so I took the fastest shower ever, dried off and threw on the robe.
When I walked into the kitchen, bacon sizzled on the griddle, eggs sat in a bowl ready to be cooked, and pancakes were stacked high on a plate.
Dix glanced at me, then did a double-take and smiled. I liked the way his eyes seemed to sparkle just for me.
“I hope you like this. It feels strange that I don’t know more about your eating habits.”
He was right. That did seem strange after last night. Why did it feel like Dix and I were on more intimate terms than a boyfriend I’d had for two years?
That couldn’t be right. But it was definitely true that I wanted us to be on more intimate terms. The most intimate. In every way.
“Well, you hit the nail on the head,” I replied. “I’m a traditionalist when it comes to breakfast.”
Dix wouldn’t let me help and insisted I sit down at the table while he served me. I thought it was funny considering he couldn’t make a copy for himself at work.
When breakfast was over, I helped him with the dishes. After we finished, he reached up and took the clip from my hair.
His eyes followed the strands as they cascaded around my shoulders.
He shook his head. “You’re so hot,” he said curiously. “But you don’t act like a woman who knows it.”
I thought about his statement. He was right and I suddenly knew why. “I guess I’ve never had a boyfriend who really made me feel that way,” I confessed.
He tilted his head as though considering my answer. “Seems like a strange choice for a woman to make.”