Strike: Dax

by Heather C. Leigh

  “Different is good, Kate. Bollocks. I’m not saying it right.” Sighing, I rub my free hand over my unkempt hair. “I respect you. That—well, it means something to me. You’re better than some random shag in the backroom of my dad’s club or Lila or a groupie.” My dad’s rules come roaring back to the forefront of my mind again, never far enough away to ignore.

  Rule 4—Women who act like slags can be treated like slags.

  Kate was never a slag and never will be.

  I see her wince at the reminder of the women in my past and her stupid flatmate as I drag the knife over her wounds, bringing fresh blood to the surface. But there’s something else shining there—behind the pain. Hope? Desire? Hate?

  I swallow nervously. Fuck, I pray it’s the first two. I couldn’t live with the guilt of Kate hating me. For the millionth time, I wonder why I care, why I let this girl see my emotions, for her to see me stripped bare in a way I don’t let anyone see.

  She bites her lip, those white teeth sinking into the plump, pink flesh. The action makes my cock stir in my trousers. I say a silent thank you that I threw on baggy cargos instead of the tight, crotch-hugging jeans I usually wear.

  My fate is in someone’s hands other than my own and it’s making me a nervous wreck. I hate it. The control I spent eighteen years wrestling back from my dad has now been handed over to this girl.

  Sweat begins to bead up between my shoulder blades and on my temples. A lone drop trickles down my spine while the tension hangs between us.

  Finally, right as I think I’m going to explode from anxiety, Kate releases her lip and smiles, wide and beautiful. Her perfection hits me like a shock of electricity to the heart, pushing it to work overtime to keep my blood flowing. She’s fucking amazing when she smiles. All the dark shit from my past, all the things I’ve done, people I’ve hurt, women I’ve used—it all fades away until there’s only me and her.

  I gently squeeze her hand, which is still all tangled up with mine. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

  Nodding shyly, she pulls her hand back, nervously scraping her long hair up into a high ponytail. A memory assaults me, hard enough to stun me for a moment. In school, Kate used to constantly fiddle with her hair, yanking it up whenever she was nervous or if it got in her way. She was always playing with it. Suddenly I want to bury my nose in those silky golden brown strands and inhale the sweet scent of her.

  Fuck it.

  Moving closer, I stand in front of Kate. She’s watching every step I take, her eyes fixed on me, unblinking. Gently, my touch so light it barely brushes her skin, I move my hand up her neck to rest against the side of her face. Without realizing she’s doing it, Kate leans her cheek into my touch, her mouth parting slightly.

  That’s the only sign I need to bring my other hand to the opposite side of her neck and pull her forward until our lips connect. Her taste explodes on my tongue, hot and sweet, with a hint of mint toothpaste mixed in. Using every bit of self-control I possess, I force myself to keep the kiss as short and chaste as possible. I don’t want to ruin the moment when I’ve just gotten her to trust me with her heart.

  “Wow,” Kate whispers. I didn’t think it was possible, but she’s even more stunning now with her hair up, her eyes closed, and her lips swollen and red from our kiss than she was all put together at the club the other night.

  Kate opens her eyes and I see it—she’s lost in a haze of lust. It’s a look I know well, having seen it on a woman’s face more times than I can count. Only this time, it means something.

  “I know. Wow.” My thumbs brush over the skin in front of her ears, drawing small circles. “I’m not sure how many more rejections I can take, but I’m asking you again. Go out with me. On a proper date.”

  Kate’s spine stiffens, and her head drops as she pulls away from my hands. She takes a few steps back but still doesn’t say anything.

  “Kate.” She ignores me, still unmoving. “Kate!”

  Her head jerks up, our eyes locking together. Closing her eyes, she presses her mouth into a hard line. She’s changed her mind. Here it comes—the brush off. She’s getting ready to wield the knife that will carve out my soul and leave me empty again.

  Unconsciously, I rub the spot over my heart, as if I can soothe the sharp pain that’s beginning to bloom. She can’t say no, she’s mine! Just the thought of anyone else touching her has me seeing red.

  Another one of my dad’s rules comes rushing back at me, blindsiding me with its strength.

  Rule 5—Defend what’s yours.

  Inexplicably, all I can think about is how she’s mine. The urge to throw her over my shoulder and hide her away nearly brings me to my knees. I struggle to keep it together while Kate decides our fate.

  “Okay.”

  “What?” My hand drops to my side in shock. “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes.” Kate takes a deep breath, opening her eyes and giving me another one of her wide, brilliant grins.

  For once in my life, I let my guard down, exhaling in relief. “Hell, I thought you were finished with me.”

  Seeing straight into my soul with those bright green eyes, her voice husky and sexy just like I remember, she steps closer. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be finished with you, Dax Davies.”

  Just like that, the glacial rock in my chest where my heart is supposed to be has a purpose. It can beat again.

  Chapter 7

  Kate

  Somehow going on a proper date with Dax morphed into dinner then coming back to the flat to talk and get reacquainted after so much time apart. Making up for lost time.

  Talking led to touching, which led to kissing. Once we realized all the other guys were out for the evening, words seemed unnecessary and things got intense… really intense. I’ve wanted him for so long, I can’t resist his touch.

  That’s how I ended up in Dax’s flat, lying on his bed, with his heavy body pressing me down to the mattress, snogging like there’s no tomorrow.

  “So gorgeous,” Dax whispers, his large, rough hands sliding up and down my bare arms. My skin is so sensitive I can feel every single callous that has formed on his fingers from years of playing guitar and using his fists to earn money as they scrape over my exposed flesh.

  Dax props himself up on his elbows so he can see right into my eyes—and I swear, right through me. I swallow loudly, my heart thrumming in my chest. Can he tell that I’m in love with him? That I’ve been in love with him for as long as I can remember? That I can see past that intimidating exterior he puts up to the man he really is?

  Instead of voicing out loud whatever thoughts lie behind those expressive dark eyes, Dax lowers his head and kisses me—gently at first—light, barely there brushes of his lips on mine. It’s enough to make my breath hitch with each pass of his mouth. He teases me like that for what feels like forever, minutes, hours… time seems to have stopped, everything collapsing in to focus on this one act.

  Dax takes his time exploring me, his slow pace, his soft touches, the noises that we make growing louder and louder—it stokes a low burn inside that begs to be set free. I need more.

  My body moves on instinct, attempting to get what it needs without my permission. I don’t realize that my hips have arched off the bed, seeking contact with Dax’s rigid length until I rub against his hard, denim-clad cock. He stops what he’s doing immediately, but not before letting out a long, deep moan. The smoldering desire between us explodes into an inferno, turning us into panting, groaning animals in the blink of an eye.

  Passion unlike any I’ve ever thought possible races through me unchecked. The scorching hot flames are burning my skin from the inside out, setting me on fire and boiling the blood in my veins. Unable to control his own reactions as I wantonly grind my hips against his, Dax shudders, giving in to his need for friction by dropping his weight down onto me for full body contact.

  “Jesus, Kate.” His voice is strained, his eyes wild. Dax’s precious control is hanging on by a thread—one that I’m int
ent on unraveling.

  I wrap my hands around his neck and yank him down for a deep, lingering kiss. My legs find their way around his waist, holding him close as we rock against each other, intense sensations jolting through me with each thrust of his hips.

  Our mouths crash together again and again, sloppy, wet, and unbelievably perfect. Dax’s tongue thrusts into my mouth, dominating mine. He tastes perfect. Like strength and security, with a bit of the chocolate trifle we shared for dessert. Needing more, I shove my hands up the back of his shirt, running them over smooth, hot skin wrapped over hard muscle.

  Breaking the kiss with a ragged inhale, Dax slows down his rocking hips. “We shouldn’t—I can’t stop if we keep going, Kate.”

  My kind, gentle brute, concerned about taking advantage of me even when I all but attacked him. “Why do we have to stop?”

  His eyes widen a fraction, the brown just a sliver behind his lust-blown pupils. “I-I…” Dax grinds his jaw, jealousy flashing across his face. “I thought you never…I didn’t want your first… I guess I thought…fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “The thought of someone else touching you…”

  “You thought this was my first time,” I whisper, dragging a finger down his cheek. He’s jealous. Holy crap, Dax is jealous at the thought of me being with someone else. The Iceman let his feelings be known! I nearly laugh out loud at his pointless jealousy, but hold back when I realize he’s not using it as an excuse to behave like an unreasonable caveman. For a man like Dax, jealousy means he cares.

  “Dax.” He shakes his head and keeps his eyes shut tight, refusing to meet my stare or listen to my words. “Dax.” I grab his head with both hands, pulling it down until our lips almost touch. “This is my first time.”

  That did it. His eyelids pop open, those damn dark irises of his showing me more than he’d ever want me to know—lust, protectiveness, concern, caring, power—all of his emotions exposed and available for me to read as if they were written out on his forehead.

  “I want my first time with you, Dax. It’s always been you.”

  Now we’re even. My emotions are out there too, open and vulnerable for him to abuse should he desire. I don’t mind. Against my better judgment, I trust Dax with my heart. I have no choice but to trust him.

  I love him.

  Dax gives me a slight nod of his head, a silent understanding passing between us, and his face relaxes from its hard set. We both understand the importance of this moment isn’t to be taken lightly, me giving this to him.

  Without looking away, he shuffles back, kneeling on the bed between my legs. Dax snags the hem of his shirt, whipping it off and tossing it somewhere on the floor. The sight in front of me—god, there are no words. I’m rendered immobile as my eyes greedily take in every single inch of Dax’s torso. Each muscle is cut and defined, rippling under smooth, light skin, broken only by the occasional small scar. The long, perfect ‘v’ on his waist that leads down into his low-slung jeans makes my mouth water.

  Hesitantly, I raise a hand between us, wanting to touch him more than anything. I get to touch this? Touch him? Wherever I want? Don’t pinch me. I don’t ever want to wake up.

  “Wait.” Dax grabs my hand before I get a single finger on him, drawing out a pathetic whimper. He grins, “If I have to be shirtless...” Releasing my hand, he unbuttons my short-sleeved blouse faster than I would have thought his large fingers could manage. Dax pushes the silky material off my shoulders, exposing my blush-colored lace bra. He groans and squeezes his crotch, seemingly in pain.

  “Jesus, Kate. California has been good to you. Your skin is so tan.” Dax drags his huge, coarse hand down the center of my body from my collarbones to the edge of my shorts. It’s so large he could probably span my waist with his hands and have room to spare. I shiver even though his touch leaves behind the heated ghost of a burn.

  My body is becoming impatient. The need to touch him is overwhelming. “Get back down here.”

  Did I say that? When did I become so demanding? Probably when Dax got me all wound up then stopped.

  The shocked look on his face is almost worth the near-crippling embarrassment I feel at being so bold. The corner of his mouth quirks up, his eyes devouring me without shame. “Oh baby, we’re going to have so much fun, but you need to understand that the only one who gives orders around here is me.”

  Holy shit.

  Dax

  This is what I’ve been waiting for. Kate Campbell, spread out beneath me, half-naked and waiting for me to tell her what to do. My baser needs, the selfish, demanding animal inside me is urging—no screaming—for me to tear off her clothes and sink into her wet pussy or stuff my cock in her hot little mouth. It’s the only way I know. To use. To take. To demand.

  But with Kate, I want it to be different—for this to be more than just a quick one-off with a nameless, faceless girl. I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself to do make that happen. Hell, I’ll probably still be a demanding bastard, maybe a tad less insensitive.

  “Dax.” Her husky, sex-laced voice whispering my name nearly undoes me right then. I look down to find her green eyes glazed over with desire, her body flushed and writhing beneath me, and I am awestruck by the trust she’s giving me in this moment. Trusting me to take care of her, to make this good for her—for us. She’s handing over the control I desperately need, even when I’ve given her no reason to do so.

  Fuck. If that’s not enough incentive to hold back the beast inside, then I don’t know what is.

  Quickly, I undo her shorts and whisk them away before doing the same with my jeans. When our bodies finally come together, skin on skin, with only our thin undergarments between us, I feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be. The rage inside is calm, the hatred I’ve harbored for years is gone, and all I can feel is Kate.

  “I want you, Dax. I’ve waited for so long. Please…”

  “Jesus, Kate.” She twines her body around mine, arching up off the bed. Groaning, I take her mouth, forgetting to be gentle and attacking it roughly. I swallow her moans as my stiff cock grinds against her soft curves.

  She bites at my lips, just enough to make it sting. Jerking back, I see a woman on the edge of losing her own control.

  “Hmmmm, like it a little rough, do you?”

  Kate lifts her hips, dragging them up and down on my rigid length. “I don’t know. I suppose I’ll like it any way as long as it’s you,” she rasps.

  “I told you,” I growl as I press her back down on the bed, “I promise it’ll be good. But I’m in charge.” I lick my way down the graceful slope of her neck, inhaling deeply as I go. “God you smell so bloody amazing.” Her only response is to moan and tremble. I continue down her body, stopping when I reach her lace-covered breasts. Hooking a finger in each side, I pull the material down, tucking it underneath each perfect curve of flesh.

  Kate jerks beneath me when I take a perfect pink nipple into my mouth, sucking it between my teeth.

  “More, Dax…”

  Holy fuck. She’s going to kill me with her moaning and writhing. “Shhhhh, I’ll give you more when you’re ready.” I move to the other breast, working it with my mouth and tongue until Kate is begging me for more.

  “Dax, I can’t wait any longer. Please!”

  When I don’t respond immediately, she thrashes her head back and forth on the bed, struggling to keep from screaming in frustration. Hell, if Kate can’t control herself then I have absolutely no chance. My body is always on a hair-trigger—primed to fight or fuck at any given moment.

  Rising up from my thorough worshiping of Kate’s breasts, I can see that her eyes are wild—dark black pools of lust—her neck and face flushed a glorious pink color. Kate’s breathing is erratic and quick, as if she can’t quite get enough air.

  Mesmerized by her raw display of desire, my need to dominate roars back like an out of control freight train. I hurriedly strip out of my briefs, stopping only to grab a condom out of the bedside drawer. Once I’m sheathe
d, I turn back to the bed to find Kate has shed her own lacy knickers and is spread out and ready for me. Her hand is dipping between her legs, her head thrown back as she shamelessly touches herself. My eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets when I see that she’s waxed almost completely bare.

  Gone is the hesitant, unsure girl I know. “Christ, Kate. You’re fucking amazing.”

  And she is amazing. Most girls are either fake, playing it up like porn stars or they’re like limp rags during sex, thinking all they have to do is lay there. Sometimes, the second is true. I just want to bust a nut and do it quick with whoever is handy. But a partner that takes her sexuality and embraces it, whether it’s to take what she wants or to turn her pleasure over to me—the result is the same. The scene in front of me is nothing short of a wet dream come true.

  Kate’s loud groan, combined with a full body tremor, breaks me from my gawking. I climb up on the bed, using my knees to push her legs apart until I’m situated between them. She reaches up to hold onto my shoulders, smoothing her hands all over my skin.

  Feeling my restraint spiraling out of reach, I grip her hands and hold them over her head to get it back. If I don’t calm down and take over, I’ll go too far, too fast, and hurt her. Lowering my body down, I let my weight settle on top of Kate, using care to keep my heavy bulk from crushing her beneath me.

  Moving both of her wrists into one of my hands, I reach down between us with the other, lining up my cock with her entrance. Her wet heat against me feels beyond incredible. Kate shifts, tearing a deep, rumbling growl from my throat as she drags herself across the sensitive head.

  “Dax. I’m ready,” she whispers.

  I kiss her gently and slowly press forward, straining from the effort it takes to hold back when all I want to do is bury myself balls deep and claim her as mine. Our hands are intertwined above Kate’s head again, her fingers gripping me hard enough to cause my knuckles to ache.