Taming My Whiskey

by Melissa Foster

  “That’s it,” Hawk coaxed. “Perfect. That’s hot. Lean back, good…Seduce the camera, Dix. We need eye contact.” A few minutes later he said, “Let’s take a break.”

  Hawk waved Jace over.

  “She looks great,” Jace said.

  “She looks better than great. The camera loves her, but she’s staring at you, Jace, and we need eye contact for the calendar.”

  “She’ll get it. Just remind her.” He glanced at Dixie, who was chatting with Indi. She met his gaze, and that feeling that had swamped him when he’d had to stop himself from taking things further returned.

  “I think you’re evoking the look we need,” Hawk said.

  He wasn’t about to admit that it couldn’t be him Dixie was thinking about, but some douche she must have gone out with as a teenager.

  “She’s just gotten comfortable in front of the camera, so why don’t we make it easy for her?” Hawk suggested. “I think if you stick by my side while I work, we can get the right angle for eye contact. She’ll look at you, but if you’re right by me—as in, when I move, you move—I think it’ll work. Are you willing to try?”

  “Whatever you need.” He never imagined the photo shoot would be uncomfortable for him.

  Several hours, hairstyles, and sexy Leather and Lace outfits later, Jace knew he’d made a mistake agreeing to be Dixie’s focal point. She wasn’t seducing the camera; she was seducing him. Every sinful look hit with laser precision, making his body flame. It didn’t help that she was dressed in the outfits he’d co-designed with the intent of being exactly what he loved, classy with an edge. The Leather and Lace line amped up her already-off-the-charts natural allure. When they took a break for lunch, she spent the entire time on the phone or with Indi and Kyra, giving him a chance to cool down. But after the break, she strutted out in the skater dress, and when she set her green eyes on him, she reignited the fire.

  Dixie was blowing him away in more ways than just her ability to model and the professionalism with which she was handling the shoot. When she had tiffs with Hawk about poses, she stood her ground until they came to a compromise she was happy with. Even that was a turn-on. Watching her in action confidently wearing the clothes he helped design, straddling his bikes, brought his emotions to new heights. His hands itched to touch her. Her voice whispered seductively through his mind, bringing rise to more than just rampant desire. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way her body had trembled and the needful sounds she’d made as she’d come apart against his mouth last night. How could she evoke all those sensations from several feet away, while they were surrounded by people, one of whom was barking out directions?

  Late in the afternoon, when Dixie went to change clothes, Jace got caught on a call with his assistant. When he heard Dixie’s angry voice, he ended the call and found her and Hawk having a showdown. And holy hell, she’d done it again. She’d taken his breath away. She was wearing tight leather shorts, a silver-studded black belt, a cropped top, and a vented leather jacket that was trimmed with silver studs and black lace. The outfit was paired with Silver-Stone boots. Her hair was twisted up and secured with a leather clip, with several sexy strands framing her face.

  He didn’t want any other man seeing her in that outfit, and reality slapped him in the face. He’d made a huge mistake by asking Dixie to be the face of Silver-Stone. He’d been so blinded by wanting the only woman he truly believed worthy of representing Silver-Stone, he hadn’t realized the obvious. Her brothers were right. Every asshole on the planet would be gawking at her. But there was no backing out now.

  He was screwed.

  He reminded himself she wasn’t his. He had no right to be jealous or possessive. He forced himself to try to push those thoughts aside, but it was a futile effort. They were etched in his mind, glaring like neon lights he couldn’t turn off.

  “I would never stand like that,” Dixie snapped, arms crossed, smoke billowing out her ears.

  “What’s the problem?” Jace asked.

  “Hawk wants me to lean over the bike and stick my ass out. I’d never do that in these shorts. I love the clothes and I’d wear them in a heartbeat, but come on, Jace. Can you imagine me in any situation bent over a bike like that?”

  Hell yes, but only for me.

  Hawk turned an amused expression to Jace and said, “Keep in mind, this is for a male audience, Jace.”

  “Fuck the audience. Turn the bike so we can shoot it from the side,” he demanded, and one of his men hurried over to move the bike. “Dixie, straddle the bike and grab the handlebars.”

  “You said you wanted to showcase the clothing line,” Hawk reminded him. “We won’t see her top or the shorts.”

  “I want to showcase the line, not Dixie’s ass,” Jace snapped. “Just do it.”

  “If I don’t hold the handlebars I can put one hand on my hip while I’m sitting down and turn like this, so you can see my top.” Dixie straddled the bike and put her hand on her hip, catching the leather jacket so it pulled back as she turned, revealing the cropped leather and lace top—and giving Jace another ball-busting dose of reality.

  She could be wearing full-body armor and she’d melt it right off.

  “That’ll work,” Hawk said.

  Dixie smiled triumphantly, causing a twinge in Jace’s chest.

  After Hawk walked away, Jace said, “You can thank me later.”

  “Oh, I plan to,” she said promisingly.

  His mind went straight to the gutter.

  Her gorgeous green eyes taunted him as Hawk took more pictures. His temperature spiked, and he wondered if Whiskey fever was a real thing after all.

  He thought he was screwed by making the decision to have Dixie be the face of the company, but he’d been wrong about the reasons why. He hadn’t made a mistake by asking her to do the calendar shoot. She was as authentic as they came, and she was the only woman he wanted representing Silver-Stone. His mistake had been letting her get under his skin.

  Chapter Ten

  THEY DIDN’T FINISH shooting until after seven. Dixie had a new level of respect for Jace, and for models. She’d thought Jace would put business first, but the few times she’d had issues, he’d stepped in, making sure she was comfortable above all else. He’d also demanded two unscheduled breaks when he noticed Dixie was getting a little worn out. She’d loved seeing the serious side of him as he worked with her and Hawk to get the exact looks he wanted. There was much more to Jace Stone than met the eye, and what met the eye was nothing to shake a stick at. But the biggest surprise of the day was that they’d wrapped shooting half an hour ago and her body was still humming with desire.

  With one small tweak, Rush’s suggestion had worked like a charm. She’d imagined herself at eighteen strutting like a temptress in front of Jace, who at twenty-seven wouldn’t have touched her with a ten-foot pole, and the unstoppable power she’d felt back then came over her. It was easy to be fearless before she’d known what rejection had felt like—that had come later, when she’d realized all her strutting wasn’t going to get her the man she wanted. But as she was working that teenage invincibility, she realized how silly she was being. She’d been with Jace last night, and he still wanted her today. As soon as she realized that, the teenage premise had fallen away and she’d become her womanly self, trying to seduce the man of her dreams.

  She might have needed the kick in the ass of that youthful bravery, but once she’d embraced it, giving in to the seduction of Jace Stone was the easiest thing she’d ever done.

  Modeling on the other hand, not so much.

  It had been as fun as it had been grueling to hold certain poses with her head at just the right angle or arching her back for long periods and changing her clothes a million times. She’d used muscles she didn’t even know she had, and she was sure she’d be sore tomorrow. But it was worth it. Hawk had been supportive and easy to work with, and seducing Jace had been a thrilling bonus. Plus, he’d said she could keep the clothes. His taste was incredible
. She felt sexy and just tough enough in every outfit without undermining her femininity. But the outfit she had on now was her favorite. The thin black miniskirt wasn’t tight, which made her feel even sexier than the snug clothing had. Kyra had paired the skirt with a clingy sleeveless lace top, open from her neck to her navel. It fastened with a button behind the lace-choker neckline. Jace had been captivated by her from the second she’d walked out wearing it. She couldn’t stop fantasizing about him kissing the exposed skin down the center of her body and pushing the skirt up as he had last night to take his fill.

  Her whole body shuddered.

  Had the camera caught everything? Had Hawk seen how much she wanted Jace? Would she look as turned on in the pictures as she felt? That would be embarrassing. Jace, Hawk, and everyone else who had helped out with the shoot had been overwhelmingly supportive and complimentary, telling her how great she was doing during the shoot and showering her with accolades when they finished for the day. But what else could they say? Hey, you look like you’re going to spontaneously combust. If you want to drag Jace in the back and fuck his brains out, feel free. We can wait.

  Thankfully, they were all packing up and leaving when she went to change.

  She paced the dressing room, trying to regain control of her lust-laden body. If she didn’t find a way to calm her overzealous hormones fast, she’d have to take things into her own hands or she’d never make it through the night.

  A knock at the door startled her from her thoughts.

  “Come in.” She turned as the door opened and Jace stepped in, looking scrumptious in the white T-shirt and faded jeans she’d been dying to rip off of him all day.

  “Everyone else took off. You were amazing out there.” His eyes slid down her body, and he made an appreciative sound. “I hope you plan on wearing that outfit tonight. I want to take you out to dinner and celebrate.”

  Just being close to him brought an adrenaline rush. Maybe she did need to take things into her own hands, but it didn’t have to be a solo effort. Feeling bold, she walked past him and closed the door. As she turned the lock, she said, “Dinner sounds great, but maybe I’d like an appetizer first.”

  His arms circled her waist from behind and kissed her shoulder.

  “Jace,” she whispered.

  Reaching behind her, she pushed her fingers through his thick hair, and he bit down, sending rivers of lust coursing through her. She turned in his arms, and he captured her mouth with his, holding her so tight she felt exactly how much heat he was packing in those jeans. His hot hands moved roughly over her back, down her hips and thighs. She grabbed his ass and his hips thrust forward. She stumbled back against the door, and he reached for her skirt.

  She grabbed his hands and tore her mouth away. “I said I wanted an appetizer.” She released his hands and cupped his crotch. Heat exploded inside her at the feel of him, but it was the lethal darkness in his eyes that made her panties damp.

  He grabbed her wrist and said, “Dix, be sure. You know I can’t promise you anything beyond our time together here.”

  “I can’t decide if you suck at listening or if you’re trying to be chivalrous.”

  “I listen to every word you say, but I also hear the ones you don’t.”

  Her heart raced at that confession, and the honesty in his eyes tore at her heart. But she’d already decided that if New York was all they’d have, she was going to take a big bite out of that apple and savor it forever. She squeezed his crotch and said, “Then you know we’re on the same page.”

  “Dix,” he ground out in a pained voice. “You’re getting good at telling stories.”

  “Wait until you see what else I’m good at.”

  She grabbed his hips, turning them both so his back was to the door. She unbuttoned his jeans and yanked them down his hips. Her knees weakened at the sight of his formidable erection outlined by tight black briefs. He grabbed her face between both hands, taking her in another heart-pounding kiss. She swore he had the most powerful tongue she’d ever encountered, the way he possessed every inch of her mouth just as deeply as his tongue had claimed her down below last night. She pushed her hand into his briefs, palming his shaft, and sweet baby Jesus, his flesh was on fire. He broke their kiss with a greedy groan, and she made quick work of stripping down his briefs. As she sank down to her knees, he slid his back down the door, bringing him to the perfect height for her to pleasure him.

  As she lowered her mouth toward his cock, she stopped short and met his gaze. Her heart nearly stopped from embarrassment as she said, “Am I going to need to wash my mouth out with bleach after this?”

  He choked out a laugh and shook his head. “I’d have to be an asshole to let you do this if I wasn’t clean.”

  Relief swept over her.

  “Dix, you don’t have to do this for me. I told you I wasn’t looking for you to reciprocate.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. This is for me.” It wasn’t a total lie. As much as she wanted to give him pleasure, she wanted to taste him, feel him in her hands, and make him lose his mind, just as badly as she’d wanted his mouth on her last night.

  She slid her tongue around the broad head of his cock, teasing him until his jaw was clenched so tight it had to hurt. His shaft was thick and strong, like him, and it twitched greedily in her hand. She dipped lower, licking him from base to tip, getting him nice and wet. She stroked him with her hand as she took him in her mouth, earning the sexiest moan she’d ever heard. It was such an erotic sound, she knew she’d hear it echoing in her sleep. And she wanted to hear more of it! She stroked him tight and slow, loving the way his breaths came harder. When she quickened her pace, taking him all the way to the back of her throat, he buried his hands in her hair with a hiss. Oh, how she loved that! Even when the tip of his cock touched her throat, she could still fist the base. The man wasn’t just packing heat. He was packing a volcano, and she wanted to make him blow. The quicker she moved, the harder he thrust. Her big bad alpha was letting her set the pace, and as much as she appreciated that, she craved his power. She cupped his balls and squeezed.

  He ground out, “Fuuck…”

  She sucked harder, stroked him faster, and when she felt him swell in her hand, his thighs flexing, she slowed her efforts, drawing out his pleasure—and her own. She’d never gotten off on blow jobs, but everything was different with Jace. She wanted to pleasure him so thoroughly, he’d feel her mouth on him long after their time together was over. She wanted him to remember how she felt every time he looked at that calendar and see her when he closed his eyes at night.

  “Christ, Dixie, you’re killing me,” he said through gritted teeth.

  The rawness of his voice sent her body into a frenzy. She squeezed her legs together, trying to stave off her own neediness as she worked him faster, squeezed him tighter. His entire body went rigid, his hands tightened in her hair, and she amped up her efforts even more. His hips thrust shockingly hard as he found his release, and her name fell rough and appreciatively from his lips. She continued stroking and sucking, taking everything he had to give, even as he slumped back against the door, his body jerking with aftershocks.

  When he finally stilled, panting, his fingers still tangled in her hair, he said, “Come here, kitten,” in a craggy, sated voice as he drew her up to her feet. He pressed his lips to hers, and one arm circled her waist, holding her tight against him, as his other hand found her cheek. His thumb brushed over her lips.

  “What’d I tell you about calling me kitten?” she said softly, her head spinning by how close she felt to him.

  “I don’t remember. My brain isn’t functioning right now.”

  He touched his forehead to hers in such an intimate embrace, her stupid heart clung hopefully to it. She was there for two more nights. Why not be hopeful? Heck, why not throw caution to the wind and be demanding, too? Hadn’t Jace made it clear that this time they had together was her only chance to be with him? She wasn’t about to go home regretting not asking for
what she wanted.

  “Next time don’t hold back,” she said brazenly.

  He lifted his face, gazing deeply into her eyes. She knew he was wondering if she was really asking what he thought she was.

  “I won’t break, and I know you respect me, so let go next time.”

  He looked at her like she was asking the impossible. “Dixie…”

  She didn’t want to hear his excuses. “Do you know why I’ve crushed on you for so long?”

  “You’ve crushed on me?” he asked coyly.

  “Shut up. I’ll deny it if you ever bring it up again.” She liked how her response softened his features. It made the truth come easily. “You’re all man, Jace, and despite what people say, real men are not a dime a dozen. So let me feel all of you, and don’t hold back next time.”

  His forehead touched hers again and he closed his eyes. She closed hers, too, needing a minute to come to grips with what she’d just confessed.

  “You wreck me, Dix,” he said just above a whisper.

  If only he knew how badly he wrecked her, too. But she’d revealed enough secrets for one night, so she said, “Well, I hope you can still walk, because you promised me dinner.”

  DIXIE MUST HAVE sucked so hard she’d scrambled Jace’s brain and his emotions. He’d been acting weird all evening, walking with his hand possessively on her back and staring at her for long periods without saying a word. She thought those things might be signs that he was feeling more of what she was feeling, like her crush had just been the tip of the iceberg. But during dinner, interspersed with those long stares were periods when he wouldn’t look at her at all. Their conversations were clipped and awkward, and as she watched him pay for the meal, she wondered what had changed.