“Is it okay if we leave the skirt like this? I’ve been envisioning taking you with this skirt bunched at your waist all afternoon.”
Hearing he’s been thinking of doing this to me gets me even hotter, but as he lowers himself, my uncertainty grows. “I’ve never … I mean … no one’s ever …”
“What are you saying? Asshat never goes down on you?” He sounds appalled, and I suddenly feel the need for more wine. I nod my head. “He has lots of mistresses and …” He lifts his finger to my mouth, quieting me.
“This is about me and you. Trust me.” His words are smooth and caring, and I do trust him.
“I do,” I whisper.
He traces his finger along the seam of my mouth before dipping it inside. I automatically take his finger in deep and suck on it, causing a guttural moan to escape his lips. He pulls the finger out of my mouth and dips it between my legs. I’m suddenly very happy I didn’t cancel my waxing appointment last weekend. He rubs my wetness around my clit and my need for him skyrockets. He lowers himself back down my body so his head is positioned between my thighs, and I gasp for air. At his first lick I’m seeing colors. His tongue runs over my most sensitive parts and my hips move to his rhythm.
“Dixon, I …” I want to tell him that this feels like heaven as my insides swell with wanton need.
“Come for me, Peaches. I need to fuck this beautiful pussy with my mouth before I sink into you.” At his words, I detonate. I’ve never heard something so erotic in my life. I come hard and fast. My thighs quaking. The orgasm is so intense I find myself shifting up the couch as Dixon follows me with his sinful tongue, carrying out the most intense orgasm of my life. When I’ve completely shattered, and shattered again, I finally come down from the orgasm. His licks slow and his sucks ease, but he still applies pressure, which causes me to build and shudder again. I think I just had two orgasms, maybe even three. A definite first for me. With a lazy, sated look, I smile to him as I work the button on his jeans then the zipper, pushing his jeans down and running my hand over his rock-hard ass. He stands to help me remove his jeans and his thick cock, long and fully erect, springs free, sucking the air from my lungs as I envision him plunging inside me.
He reaches for his pocket to retrieve a condom. After rolling the condom on and pumping his own dick a few times, which is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, he hovers above me and sinks inside, ending my show of his cock pressing into the hot as sin tattoo on his lower abdomen.
His movements are hungry and demanding as his hips buck into me. His thick cock fills me in the best way possible. He rolls his hips, rubbing my clit just right. I begin to build again as his pelvis angles and presses my clit. He knows exactly what he’s doing. My hips move in unison, meeting him thrust for hungry thrust. This is very different than sleeping with Blythe. Even at the beginning we never shared this unbridled passion for each other. I wonder if it’s because Dixon and I mesh so well together, or if he feels this way about all his conquests.
“I need you on top of me,” he rasps through huffed breaths. Before I have a chance to respond, he’s lifting me in the air and seating himself on the couch with me on top of him. Sitting on his large cock from this angle feels full. It takes a moment for me to adjust to his size. His finger dips to circle my clit, and I instantly begin moving, bucking against him harder and faster as I chase my own orgasm.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” His hands run up and down my back then move to the front, cupping my breasts. His hands then wander around my neck, up to my face and along my cheeks, as if he’s tracing or cherishing the intimate features of my body. “I’ve been fantasizing about you humping me like this, these breasts … fuck …” he hisses, as if he can’t believe this is real or maybe that it’s even happening. I can’t believe it either, but I also don’t want it to end.
As my need for release nears, my breasts bounce close to his face and rub against his chest, making the orgasm build faster.
“I’m going to come. I’m so close,” I moan breathlessly.
“Come for me, Peaches,” he urges, his tone deep and demanding, as he grasps onto my hips, making me move faster and harder against him. My moans grow louder, more wild, as I call out his name like a prayer. He must have been a prayer, because I’ve never come this hard in all my years of having sex. He draws out my orgasm with his long, hard, relentless thrusts.
Finally, I fall forward on his chest, panting and inhaling his scent of sweat and sex. It isn’t fair that he’s so damn hot. As his hands run up and down my back, a sobering reality hits me like a ton of bricks. What did I do? I’m a respected teacher at school. I’m a married woman, even though I know I won’t be for much longer. I slowly stand up, feeling very naked.
As I begin to back away from the couch, Dixon asks, “Where are you going? The night is still young.” His smile is sweet and panty dropping sexy—only my panties are already gone, so he has me there. “I still want to get you in my bed,” he continues through heavy-lidded eyes that scream sex and sexual prowess.
My mind is in a battle of wills. One side tells me to take a walk on the wild side and experience all sides of the great Dixon Crawford … and great he is. The other side screams, “You know this was a mistake, and you should leave now with whatever dignity you still have.”
“Dixon, I need to go.” The words come flying out of my mouth before I can register them. My eyes dart all over the room, frantically looking for my shirt and panties on the floor. Feeling suddenly exposed, I pull my skirt down and straighten it out.
“Eden, wait.” Dick stands up from the couch. I hate that he’s even better looking naked. I try not to gaze at the tattoos on his abdomen and arms, but it’s hard not to look. Sleeping with him was a fantasy come true. “You don’t need to leave. You can stay in the guest room. Grant is staying over anyway,” he reminds me, his tone laced with worry. I really want him to say that this wasn’t a mistake, that he’s cared for me since the day he kissed me when we were only teenagers in Williamsburg. I know my hopes are farfetched. After living a lifetime filled with hope, only to have my dreams burned each step of the way; I can’t do it anymore. I need to protect my heart. I can’t just sleep with Dixon.
“I should go. I can pick him up in the morning,” I respond, trying to keep my voice even so he won’t sense the storm brewing inside me. I can’t look him in the eyes either, because I don’t want him to see the depth of my feelings for him.
“You drank. You shouldn’t drive,” he insists. I almost allow a bubble of laughter to erupt from my chest. My world has tilted sideways from the connection we had, and he is being so cold and matter-of-fact. What did I expect? The man has a new lover to bed on a weekly and maybe even a daily basis.
. “I will call Uber. It’s okay,” I answer to relieve him of any responsibility he may feel about me drinking and driving. I need to get out of here fast before I break down.
“Eden, we should talk,” he begins.
I cut him off. I feel like a fool. My chest constricts. With my blouse back on, I walk briskly to the front entrance and slip on my shoes.
“Eden,” he says again, and I can sense the confusion in his eyes.
“Please, Dixon.” My voice is a soft plea; only I’m not sure what I’m asking for.
He looks defeated as I turn to open the door. “Tell Grant I love him and I will be back in the morning to pick him up.”
“I can take him to school with the kids,” he offers.
“Okay,” I respond and leave through the door.
What a tumultuous night. Sleep evaded me and even worse, I didn’t shower because I wanted to revel in the smell of Dixon and our lovemaking. No one has ever touched me or made love to me like that before. Well, except for him when we were younger, but it was an innocent kind of love back then. Teenage crushes clearly die hard or never die at all. Having moved my things into the guest bedroom, I’m relieved I don’t need to face Blythe tonight. It’s ironic that I’m not even worried about him catching m
e in this thoroughly fucked state. At least he can respect my privacy, I guess.
I’ve had time to think while staring at my ceiling throughout the night and watching the sunrise this morning. I’ve sadly concluded that last night with Dixon was special, but it was just one night and now it’s over. I’m still Jaden’s teacher, and Jaden is still Grant’s friend, and I plan to be completely mature and professional about this.
Arriving at school early, I dive back into the swing of things in the classroom, in order to relieve my mind of Dixon. Of course, I showered this morning before coming into school. As I sit at my desk, Jenna walks in early to prep herself for morning bus duty.
“So are we finally going out tonight?” she asks with a cheerful tone. She crosses her arms over her chest and waits, her mouth slowly turning down. I’m sure she’s expecting a no. On maybe a wink of sleep and running on a double caramel macchiato, I know I should say no to her. My body is drained. Sitting at home and thinking of Dixon, though, and wallowing is not so appealing either. Part of making a new life for myself should entail going out and learning to have fun. I may not have had fun in the past, but I’m not oblivious to know what’s right.
“Yeah, where to?” I ask with a smile, knowing full well I’ve thrown her off. She was the first person I ever revealed my deep, dark secrets to. I know I can trust her, but having sex with Dixon has to be left in the never tell anyone category. Which means I can’t admit to the hot sex or the lack of sleep.
Her mouth falls open. “For real?” She claps her hands together while doing a bouncy dance.
“Yes,” I answer with a giggle.
“Okay, there’s this hot, new club opening tonight.” She pauses. “Eden, you seem different this morning … relaxed.” She slaps a hand over her mouth. “You either had a very productive night with your vibrator or …” She pauses again and her eyes widen. “You got laid.”
My eyes widen and my mouth turns into an O. “Jenna, would you keep it down?” I berate her, looking around the room then taking a few steps into the hall, I make sure no one recently passed by. This school is like a gossip mill, and I don’t want to be at the center of it all.
“Nothing of the sort happened,” I assure her, hating the lie. I’m not built for lying. I’m actually terrible at it. She squints her eyes, assessing me, and I saunter over to my desk and glance at my schedule.
“You don’t need to lie, Eden, just say you aren’t ready to talk about it.” She shrugs her shoulders in her chilled out way. I wish I could be like her, chill, able to just enjoy sex and not overthink it. Have one-night stands. I’m clearly not able to do any of the above. In fact, my mind has been obsessively thinking about Dixon every moment since I left his place last night. His eyes, torso, the tattoos … I unconsciously lick my lips … Jenna clears her throat, disturbing my reverie.
“I’m not ready to talk about it,” I confirm, falling back into my chair with a large pout taking over my mouth. “Well, actually something life-altering happened last night.”
Jenna turns her head, waiting expectantly for me to speak. “Well …”
“My mother contacted me … said she was dying and wanted to see me before her death.”
Jenna gasps loudly and her hand covers her mouth. “Shit, Eden, are you okay?”
“Honestly, I wasn’t okay. I went to see her. Nothing she said made me feel better or gave me clarity or closure. But I’m glad I went. I always wondered, you know? Where she was … what she was doing … was she thinking of me? Was she in trouble? Now I can put those thoughts to rest.”
Jenna stalks over to me and wraps her arms around my neck. “You should have called me. I could’ve been there for you.” She pulls her head back and looks into my eyes and then understanding dawns on her. I had the support of an unnamed person. She doesn’t pry. I’m grateful.
“Eden, Wow. I uh … understand. Still, though … are you okay?” She continues to show her loving support. I may only have one friend in this world, but she’s loyal and supportive, and I couldn’t ask for more.
“Am I okay?” I repeat. “It’s been a tough pill to swallow. The woman I met last night was vulgar and cheap. It makes me feel like shit that I came from her. I also realize that she was weak. My stepfather’s affairs broke her. Something in that information reassured me because I know I’m not broken. I would never walk away from my son.”
“Oh, Eden, I’m so sorry you had to face that, but seriously, sweetie, you’re the best mom and person I know. You haven’t let her existence define you until now. Don’t let your mind make those comparisons. Continue being you. You’re strong, Eden. I don’t know how many women could handle your husband’s behavior so gracefully and not fall apart. And you are so dedicated to your son. You’re my role model, babe,” she admits, throwing me off.
“Jenna.” I sigh. She has this all wrong. She’s tough, poised, says what she thinks, and knows how to have fun. “You’re my role model. I wish I could be more like you.”
Jenna laughs. It’s sad and sardonic. “I guess if we melded our personalities together we would be the perfect woman.” She smirks. “I respect you so much, Eden. I fell apart after my marriage ended. The reason I live this happy-go-lucky life now is because I need to protect my heart. I’m not the free spirit you think I am. I just prevent myself from feeling,” she reveals. I had a clue that she was nursing a broken heart.
“I still respect you, Jenna. You still live life by your own terms. I need to learn from that.”
“I guess we can learn from each other.” We give each other another sappy hug. “This gives us even more of an excuse to go to the club tonight. It’s going to be amazing. My friend is the bouncer, so I’m sure we can get in,” she explains with excitement.
“Sounds great,” I answer, forcing a smile. Our moment of truth ends, and I’m glad my secret is still a secret. This is the ‘new me’ week after all. Sleep with school manwhore, have best sex of my life, go out clubbing … There are so many things I can check off my non-existent bucket list now.
Jenna yelps, clapping her hands together. “I’m so excited. You’re going to loosen up tonight.” She lifts a hand to cover her mouth then whispers, “Even though you already seem loose.” She winks mischievously. “I’m going to show you such a good time, you’re going to want to go out with me every Thursday night.”
“Jenna, if I had a good, reliable babysitter for Grant, I would. I know I’ve been living inside a shell. I’d like to start chipping those walls down; albeit I think a slow progression is better. I was never really a party girl,” I explain, thinking of the younger version of myself. I never experienced clubs. While students my age were clubbing, I was preoccupied with survival.
“My cousin, Matilda, is eighteen. She wants to go into early childhood care. She should be free tonight. If you want, I can ask her? She babysits for my brother all the time.”
“Uh yeah, that would be great. Grant hated the last sitter.”
“Okay, I’m sending her a text.”
“Thanks, Jenna.” My phone buzzes. It’s Dixon. My phone says Dick, but now that we have acknowledged our past friendship, I can’t call him Dick. The thought causes laughter to bubble inside me. I sense he doesn’t like Dixon.
Grant slept well and had pancakes for breakfast with strawberries. He’s happy. We will be at the school in a few minutes.
I let out a breath. Of course he wouldn’t mention last night. Even though I had hoped the text said something to the effect of: Oh, Eden, you are the best I’ve ever had.
Thanks for taking such good care of my son.
The boys asked if they could see each other again tonight. What do you think?
I have plans to go out tonight. Grant will be staying with a sitter.
Wow! Well, good for you. I’m glad you’re getting out. You deserve a night out. Have fun!
Thanks!
I wipe the silly grin off my face when I notice Jenna standing in front of my desk with her arms crossed over her chest.
>
“Who were you just texting?” she asks. Damn! I swiftly try to construct another lie. What is happening to me? I can’t do it. “Give me that phone?” she says, grabbing for it. Okay, Jenna may be a little eccentric. It’s her spicy personality I like, but I’m finding very annoying right now.
“Jenna, stop it. You’re being …” I try to say ridiculous, but she rips the phone out of my hand, seeing Dick’s name.
“Oh no, Eden. NO. NO. NO,” she screams. “NOT DICK.”
“Jenna, Jesus! Would you be quiet? It’s not what you’re thinking.” Okay, it may be exactly what she’s thinking, but I’m not ready to confess here. “We’re just friends. The kids play together. In fact, Dixon is an old friend from middle school. There’s absolutely nothing going on between us,” I assure her. My innocence-filled tone is a sham.
“Old friends, huh? Uh huh! You keep telling yourself that, Eden. I saw the flush in your cheeks and the smile on your face when you were texting him. That reaction’s not how you feel when texting a friend. I’m starting to think that you fornicated with him.” She tilts her head and gives me a curt nod.
A throaty laugh escapes me as my nose scrunches up. “Ew! Jenna! Gross. Do you live in the thirteenth century or something?”
She points her finger at me, moving it back and forth. She’s not buying it. She begins to type into her cell phone. A moment later she passes me my phone as it beeps. Her name lights up the screen.
You’re screwed!
“Jenna for real?” My shoulders slump.
The sound of the first bell ends our standoff.
“I’ll see you outside, Eden.”
Before she turns, she cocks a brow at me, and I let out a laugh. She’s funny. What I really want to do is cry because my life is in an upheaval and sleeping with Dixon last night only caused a very unsteady ship to rock even more. I slip my duty vest on and make my way outside to the playground. Grant spots me and makes a mad dash toward me.
Dick (Bad Boys #1) Page 11