If I’d been paying any attention to the words coming out of her mouth, I probably would have laughed again, but all of my focus was where every last drop of blood in my body was currently pooled– in the tip of my cock. Because of that, every action that I did from that moment, was based purely on that appendage. Well, aside from breathing, and the odd grunt or groan. Maybe I was able to give her the odd word here and there, but those were only during the moments where I could use my big brain to do those things, which were few and far between.
With each thrust, I was getting closer and closer to an explosive climax. I wasn’t even sure if it would be one I’d be able to survive, and honestly – I didn’t care.
I could hear Dahlia’s groans and cries over the pounding in my ears and decided that what I needed to push me over the edge was to change those noises to the ones she made when she came. I’d only heard them once, but I wanted to hear them again.
Moving so that her weight was now resting in my left hand, I lowered my right one down and in around her body, and then skimmed the tips of my fingers down her stomach. Turning my hand around so that my palm was facing inward and my fingers were pointing downwards, I split my index and middle fingers and lowered them either side of her clit. As I started to rub, I bent so that my head was resting on her shoulder and watched as her hips moved with my hand. It only took a couple of seconds before she made the noises I remembered and when she did, I leaned up to kiss her, absorbing them into my mouth.
Just as she started to clench and climax around my shuttling cock, I knew that I needed to do this with her again, repeatedly. Giving her my own groans as I came, I lamented over the fact that if men didn’t need time to recover, I wouldn’t have left her depths even with a gun to my head. Sadly, we did so I would, but not until I absolutely had to.
What I hadn’t known was that, although I got to experience what her tongue stud felt like as it rubbed my cock, I wouldn’t get to feel it like this again that night, or for a while after that. If I did, I would have looked into Viagra, or running over a certain psychotic little bastard with my car.
Eleven
Dahlia
M ornings weren’t my favorite time of the day, and anyone who said they loved them was an asshole who needed therapy. Or a mutant. And this morning wasn’t any different.
Rolling over, I groaned as every muscle in my body screamed out like all the souls that Satan enjoyed torturing in his evil lair. I should also mention I had a flair for the dramatic in the morning. It wasn’t unusual for me to yell abuse at or give long pleading speeches to the coffeemaker as it slowly percolated. Drip. Five hours later – drip. Five hours later – drip. It also wasn’t unusual for me to crawl to machine to get the coffee and then crawl to the nearest comfortable place to enjoy it. Thank the lords of Yeti for their cups, that’s all I had to say. I didn’t even care what color it was or if it had a custom design on it. After one too many crawling spills followed by me face planting on the floor – albeit from only roughly one-and-a-half feet away from it – I’d bought my first Yeti cup after it had boasted a non-spill accuracy that was music to my bruises. When they’d proven not to be big fat liar Yeti pants, I’d started my collection, and that was it. That didn’t make my coffee appear quick enough though, not even my Keurig machine could do that. It also didn’t make my shower heat up quick enough, my hair dry perfectly straight, my makeup do itself, my clothes miraculously appear on my body and, if the hammering on my front door was proof enough, it didn’t stop assholes appearing at dead-bitch-o’clock in the morning.
It had been that hammering at oh-go-fuck-yourself-hundred-hours that was responsible for me stumbling down the hallway, bouncing off every wall as I pulled a t-shirt over my head, using curse words that would make my dad beat my ass even at my age.
As I turned the corner, I knocked my thigh on the corner of an end table, sending my phone flying across the floor and making me scream. Jesus, it felt like I had a flaming blade reaching into my thigh bone which travelled up into my intestine.
Limping onwards, not stopping to pick my phone off the ground because the impatient soon-to-be-dead shithead stop hammering on my door, I got there and flung it open. On the other side was none other than my best friend in the entire world – Bonnie Blue Butler. I shit you not. She had the same color as Madix in her name, and she was also named after Scarlett and Rhett’s daughter in Gone With The Wind. She’d been teased mercilessly in elementary school when the teacher had pointed it out, but I thought it was kind of badass. And having a color in your name like Blue… maybe that was why me and Madix fit so perfectly?
Before I could hug her, she rushed me with a scream, and almost sent me flying as she threw her arms around my neck. Then, she did what we’d both done to each other countless times through the years – nothing kinky, well unless choking was your thing – the best friend headlock. Just as I was about to punch her in the boob or gut to get her to let go, she dropped her hold on me and stared at an area behind me in shock.
Turning, expecting to see my handsome giant, I frowned when I didn’t see anything. That’s when the high-pitched squeaking barks coming out of Baileys registered and I looked down to see my new baby trying to act like a Rottweiler.
“Seems we have a lot to catch up on,” she pointed out, her eyes shifting to mine.
More than she realized.
Sighing, I walked over to shut the front door and then walked back past her toward the kitchen. This was going to take a lot of fuel to explain.
“So, let me get this right,” Bonnie questioned from where she was lying identically to me on my other couch. “His name is Madix Blue?”
I’d just finished re-counting all of my news to her over coffee, and also after picking my phone up and seeing a message from Madix on it. It was worded in his usual sweet way and the thought police, ie Bonnie, hadn’t missed the goofy grin that had split my face as I’d read it.
Madix: Baby, got called into work. Tried to wake you but you sleep like the dead. After ten minutes of trying and dodging your fist, I gave up. I wouldn’t have left after last night if it wasn’t an emergency, but I’m still sorry I had to. Text later! Mx
I loved that he hadn’t wanted to leave me, especially after last night, and that he’d gone out of his way to let me know that in the text. Something which I was sure a man like him wouldn’t really think too much about mentioning normally. I could be wrong, but no man I knew came across like they would do that. Then again, I hadn’t obviously been in a situation like this with them, so I could be wrong. I was choosing to stick with the assumption that Madix was special.
I hadn’t replied yet because Bonnie wouldn’t let up with her quest to find out every single freaking detail.
At that moment, she asked her next question without letting me answer the first one. “And you made out with him on New Year’s Eve and forgot about it? And FYI forgot to tell me about it, too.”
Wincing, I nodded at her because I was guilty of both of those things.
“Which one was he?” she asked, taking a sip of her second cup of coffee.
“He’s really tall. Like, six-foot-eight-inches tall.” That was the key detail to tell her because you tended not to forget about someone with that kind of height.
“Wait,” she shot up on the couch and twisted so that her feet were now on the floor. “Hair that fits in a tiny ponytail and a neat beard. Not all lumbersexual, not hobo-esque, but more of an: I’m a sexy giant and my facial hair doesn’t need to scream to the world that I have a big dick, because that’s just a fact, so I keep it yay long?” She punctuated this description with a hand gesture to exactly where Madix’s beard ended.
How did I guess she’d seen him around town?
Bonnie was an interesting person for a billion reasons. Her personality was out of this world awesome. She was smart, kind, beautiful, funny, inventive, a pain in the ass, protective, loyal and everything that’s good that a person could be, all thrown into one package. What made her
even more beautiful was her coloring. She had dark skin, the color of dark coffee with a dash of milk (her words not mine). Her eyes were striking and were hazel with a sapphire blue ring around them like her mother’s, but her facial features were like her father’s.
Here’s where that became bizarre, though. Both of Bonnie’s parents were white, as was her brother, yet it was their DNA which had created the spectacular package that was Bonnie Blue Butler.
When she’d been born, everyone had assumed that her mother had an affair because of the difference in skin color. Her father had been speechless and her mother had been terrified. After swearing blind she hadn’t, they’d had DNA testing done on her to see if perhaps a particular set of genes was responsible, or if, God forbid, her mom had been drugged and raped. Her parents were so special that, at no point after she was born, was she unloved. Even with the worries hanging over them, her parents had literally doted on her because, in their words, it wasn’t the baby’s fault and they’d wanted her so badly after years of trying after her brother was born. I guess you never know how you’ll react until you’re put in that situation. Some people would reject the baby and struggle to accept what had happened, others could put their fears aside and give love as they waited. I had no idea which one of the two I’d be, but I hoped that I would have been like the Butlers.
When the DNA tests had come back, it had been hard for them to understand and a different lab had done a second set of tests. All came back conclusive that her father was in fact her father. When they’d done even more tests, they’d discovered she was what is referred to as a genetic ‘throwback’, also known as Atavism. Basically, our DNA is made up of all the DNA of our lineage. Some genes become dormant, and then they mutate and knock out the new traits we’d have gotten and replace them with the older ones. It was hard to understand, but when she’d described it she’d used the example of some babies who are born with tails. We have a tail bone, but not a tail. The babies born with one end up like that because the dormant gene that gave us a tail all of those millennia ago, become active again and somehow mutate to override the non-tailed version of us.
I’m not sure how I would be as a person if what had happened to her had happened to me either. Bonnie never let it show that it hurt her when people assumed her mother had cheated, her parents had adopted her, or that her father had cheated and her mother had pretended she was hers because she didn’t want to lose Bonnie’s dad. There were other theories like abduction and shit like that, but those people were just assholes.
Bonnie also had a specific type of man that she went for – an over six-foot in height kind of type. I swear she could sniff a tall guy out a mile away. In fact, it wasn’t unusual for her to blush and drool over the Townsend men who were all good-looking Amazonians. Well, maybe not to that exact categorization, but they were all really tall.
“That’s the one,” I replied, watching as her eyes widened.
“You Slutty McWhorebag,” she snapped, glaring at me. “I wanted him.”
“Did I mention that his sister is married to Noah Townsend?” I asked, watching her shake her head in return. “And that he lives with the Townsends?” I pressed, now watching a grin take over her face.
“Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place, Slutty McSlightlyButIForgiveYouNowWhoreBag. I do declare that I’ll be visiting his fine residence regularly then.” I may have forgotten to mention that she had a crush on both Levi and Archer which had started when we were in middle school and Archer was close to graduating high school. She’d slipped on the floor, which had been wet because it was raining outside, as he’d been walking by. When everyone else would have ignored her, Archer had leaned down and helped her up, asking her if she was okay, before passing her onto Levi who had walked her to her classes asking her constantly if she was all right. They were tall gentlemen – just her type.
Rolling my eyes, I picked up my coffee and watched as she went back to lying out on my couch. They really were divine couches you could sink into, to be fair. Before I’d gotten my new bed, I’d slept on them because I got such a good night’s sleep.
“So, what about…” I began but cut off when I saw her squinting at my leg, which had more skin on display since my shirt had slipped up slightly when I’d reached for my cup.
“What’s that?” she asked, tilting her head and squinting harder.
“Huh?” I questioned, confused as I looked down at the area she was looking at.
In all honesty, it had flashed into my head that I had a Madix Blue sized hand print on my thigh or a hickey or something. What I saw was far, far different.
On my leg, going from mid-shin to mid-thigh, was writing. Putting my mug on the coffee table and twisting my leg so I could read it better, I muttered each word as I read it out.
Last night was better than my fantasies. MB xxxx
I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times while I tried to get my head around it, and when I did, I ended up screaming instead.
“Oh, my God. I feel like a porn star!” I screeched at Bonnie, holding my leg up in the air. “Wait, would this happen to a porn star?”
Some women might have been offended by it, some might have laughed, but to me this new discovery was the coolest thing ever.
“How do you feel about tattoos?” Bonnie squealed quickly, jumping up from her seat.
I’d already decided that I was going into work late today, so I got up and ran toward my bedroom to get changed, with my best friend right behind me.
Just as she went to jump onto my bed, like she always did, she stopped and looked at me with her lip curled upward.
“Those are sex sheets, aren’t they?”
“You bet your big balloon titties they are,” I smirked, walking into my closet to grab some clothes. I couldn’t have a shower in case I washed the ink off, but I could have a splash in all the right places. Getting what I needed, I headed toward the adjoining bathroom.
“I don’t have big balloon titties,” she snapped, walking over to the big comfy chair in my room and curling up. “I have a perfect handful.”
“Yeah, if you’re a giant!”
And from there, we traded insults until I had cleaned my bits and pits and had thrown on my clothes. Then we packed the dogs into my car and headed toward ‘Fink’, the tattoo shop in town.
Unfortunately, when we got there, I heard a woman screaming over the buzz of a tattoo machine and changed my mind. I would either never wash my leg again, or I’d take a million photos and perhaps frame one.
Instead, I got the cool rock chick to pierce my nose with the most beautiful little blue stud. I was pretty sure I was done with piercings like that now, unless it was to do more on my ears.
On our way out, Bonnie kicked me in my right butt cheek and snorted. “You chose that one because of your Mr. Blue.”
Actually, I’d decided to get my nose pierced after I’d seen the little blue stud that had reminded me of my ‘Mr. Blue’, but I wouldn’t tell her that. The mean bitch would take out an ad on Facebook to tell the world if I did.
Instead, I shrugged and walked back to the car where the dogs were waiting on us with the window open slightly.
Once we’d gotten settled, and I was driving back to my place to drop Bonnie off at her car, I wiggled my nose, trying to adjust to the foreign feeling of a piece of metal through it.
Please don’t let it swell up like my damn tongue did!
“Does it feel like you’ve got a booger?” she asked when I kept scrunching my nose up.
“A bit.”
“What if you get a head cold? Would the snot come through the hole?”
“Uhhh…” Well, shit. What if it did?
“What about your tongue stud? Do you have issues eating with it in?”
I had done until they changed the size of the stud down to a smaller one. “When the swelling went down, it left me with this massive bar that kept clipping the back of my throat, making me gag,” I explained as I took the turnin
g onto my road.
“Ah, you’ve got a shit gag reflex. I get it!” she nodded, grinning at me. “How does he feel about that?”
“I don’t have a shit gag reflex, mine is awesome,” I snapped. “It happens to everyone, and then they change the stud to a smaller one and you don’t have any issues. Well, unless I’m eating spaghetti.” That shit got stuck around it every time. “And Madix had no issues with my gag reflex last night, thank you very much.”
“So, is his dick in ratio to the rest of his size?” she asked, completely ignoring what I’d said and going for the million-dollar question. She’d changed the subject so fast it threw me for a second, but I knew the best way to shut her up.
“I didn’t nickname him after a big silverback gorilla for nothing, Bon.”
When she did nothing but stare out the windscreen in a daze, I mentally patted myself on the back.
Unfortunately, everything comes to an end in life, and that peace and quiet was one of them.
As we pulled up to my house, she undid her seatbelt, opened the door and got out without saying a word. Then she changed her mind, bent over and growled, “You lucky slut!” Before slamming the door shut and walking away.
There was no shame in my game – I really was lucky. And I had the proof written on my leg that apparently Madix felt equally lucky too.
Walking into work a couple of minutes later with my porn star leg leading the way, I smiled and waved at everyone as I passed them. Today was going to be a great day, I could feel it in my bladder. Then again, that could still be Madix’s dick because I wasn’t sure he hadn’t shifted around some internal organs with it. Regardless, I had a bit of oomph in my movements and got through my work in record time. Apparently, sex gave you super powers, who’d have guessed?
I wasn’t feeling so happy and superhero-like forty-eight hours later when I hadn’t heard from the big bastard, though. In fact, I was feeling like the world had fallen out of my ass hole, been eaten by a T-Rex, shat out and engulfed in the big bang, and then stomped on by a giant.
Mad Gold (Providence Gold Series Book 2) Page 10