Dirty Dix (Hard Love Romance #1)

by Monica James

  “This is blackmail,” I whisper angrily.

  “No, this is called a girl getting what she wants. And I want you.” She cups my balls, just in case I’m unsure of what she wants from me. “Sarah told me all about you, and I want a taste.”

  There’s no way I can do this. I mean, this is wrong. Yes, I’ve done some awful things in my time, “Sarah” being the worst, but this is up there with atrocious, unacceptable, heinous acts.

  Brushing her hand away, I spit, “Can you be a little more discreet?” I smile as the couple next to us gives me a weird look.

  “I always get what I want, and I want you to fuck me.”

  “What? The caddy wasn’t man enough for you?” I bitterly snarl, my patience wearing thin.

  Rebecca looks stunned that I clued onto her flirting, but I’ve been around her kind for far too long. Hell, I am, or was her kind.

  I’m stuck between a rock and a horny woman, but I will not be blackmailed this way. “The answer is still no,” I stubbornly state, while Rebecca frowns.

  “You don’t really get a say. Fuck me, or get fired. Easy,” she replies, looking at her fingernails, bored by this conversation.

  “You don’t seem to realize if I fuck you, I still get fired. This is a small world, and my actions will come back to haunt me,” I say, hoping to appeal to her rational side—if she has one. “Either way, I’m screwed. And I would prefer it to be consensual screwing, instead of my hand being forced.”

  “What are you? A priest?” she barks, scoffing at my plea. “I’m asking you to fuck me, no strings attached, and you’re saying no. What, are you saving yourself for someone?” she half-jokingly says. I hate to think how accurate she is.

  Before I have time to reply, a pair of arms wrap around my neck and a set of lips kiss my cheek. “Baby, I’ve missed you.”

  I turn so quickly, I nearly bump heads with the person standing beside me. But she reads my actions and takes a step backward, just in time.

  “Madison?” I choke out, gaping at her, utterly confused. “Um, hi?” I add, which comes out as a question, as I have no idea what’s going on.

  She reads my confusion and smiles. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was such a bitch.” She pulls up a chair, sitting beside me.

  “That’s okay,” I reply, playing along, still baffled by what’s going on. “I’m just thankful you’re here.”

  “Me, too,” she replies before bending forward, yanking the collar of my polo and smashing her lips to mine.

  I freeze, unsure of what to do, but as Madison’s tongue nudges at my lips, demanding entrance, I open wide and happily comply. We kiss passionately and recklessly, and before long, I’m the one yanking on her nape, drawing her mouth closer to mine. I’ve missed her taste so much, and kissing her is like coming home.

  The little sound she makes as I nip her bottom lip has me regretfully pulling away, because one more minute of this madness and I’ll be clearing the table and throwing her on top of it.

  “You look beautiful,” I say, my senses on overdrive.

  Madison looks down at her short denim shorts, red tank and Chucks, and smiles. “Thanks. So do you,” she lightly replies, pulling a face at my stuffy polo and beige slacks.

  I had to wear something presentable on the greens, and in turn, I look like a complete douche.

  I’ve completely forgotten Rebecca is here until she clears her throat, unhappily. “So, this is your girlfriend?” she spits, and I raise my eyebrow at Madison, unsure if she’ll feel comfortable with this lie.

  Madison, however, answers for me as she leans forward so she can make eye contact with the witch. “I sure am,” she says, cuddling into my side.

  “Yeah, she sure is,” I confirm, kissing her cheek in gratitude. I have no idea why she’s playing along with this façade, but I’m grateful that she is.

  “Well, that explains a lot,” Rebecca smugly says, pleased my rejection was because I was seeing someone, and not because I found her unattractive.

  However, I have an awful thought. What if Rebecca mentions Juliet? This could get ugly real fast.

  Thankfully, Madison fills in the silence. “Thanks for keeping him company.”

  “The pleasure was all mine,” she replies sarcastically, drumming her fingernails on the table.

  “Hey, I love your hair color. It really suits you,” Madison randomly says, and I’m not sure if she’s being serious or not, because Rebecca’s bi-colored hair resembles a skunk.

  But I nod and remain quiet, not understanding the language of women.

  “Oh, thank you.” Rebecca primps up her mane. “I just got it done for the weekend. I needed something to brighten up my time here.”

  Madison giggles, cupping a hand over her mouth. “I know exactly what you mean.”

  I’m staring, my mouth agape, not understanding what is transpiring here. But the fact Rebecca hasn’t used the words “fuck me” or “blowjob” is a good thing, so I don’t question whatever Madison is doing.

  “Sorry that took so long,” Chad apologizes, returning to the table and taking a seat.

  He takes one look at Madison, who is still cuddling into my side and smiles. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were bringing a plus one, Dixon. I was told she pulled out at the last minute.”

  I freeze up, as I’m not too sure how Madison will feel, knowing I was originally planning on taking the person I dumped her for, to the event she’s now at, saving my ass.

  I look over at Rebecca, who smiles at me smugly. Looks like my secret is safe for now.

  But Madison doesn’t miss a beat as she replies, “You know us women, we like to keep our men guessing.” She winks conspiratorially at Rebecca, who happily nods.

  “Oh, you got that right.” She looks at Chad, giving him a sly little grin.

  He melts and gets all love-eyed while I kiss the arch of Madison’s neck and whisper, “Thank you.”

  She subtly nods and surprises me by leaning into my caress.

  “I’m Chad, and this is my beautiful fiancée, Rebecca.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Madison replies. “Oh my, goddamn, look at your ring. Let me look,” she adds, making grabby hands, and Rebecca chuckles as she proudly displays her hand.“That is some ring. It really is beautiful, Rebecca. You’re going to make a stunning bride.”

  Both Chad and Rebecca beam at Madison’s comment, while I watch the exchange, disbelieving how the tension has fizzled, and I no longer feel the need to protect my nuts. Thanks to Madison, my career is safe for the minute, and so is my dick.

  “She sure is,” Chad says in agreement. “Well, if you’ll excuse us,” he adds, and Rebecca looks at him with a smirk.

  “Laters,” she says, standing up, while I try not to vomit because they are so going upstairs to bump wrinkly uglies.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” Chad says while hooking a hand around Rebecca’s waist.

  “Tonight?” I dreamily ask, lost in Madison’s vanilla fragrance.

  “Yes, for the ceremony.”

  “Oh right,” I reply, shaking my head and pulling my shit together.

  “We can meet in the lobby? Around seven?” he suggests.

  Madison has already done too much, what with saving my ass from Rebecca’s claws. I surely can’t ask her to continue on with this charade into the night, can I?

  Chad and Rebecca look at me expectantly, and just as I’m about to make up an excuse as to why Madison can’t come, she says, “Great, we can’t wait.”

  I turn to look at her quickly, and she nods, a small smile gracing her cherub lips.

  “Yes, great; seven it is,” I say, my eyes never leaving Madison’s.

  “Wonderful, we’ll see you then.” They’re both off, Rebecca giggling in the distance.

  The moment they disappear, I let out the breath I was holding.

  Now that we’re alone, Madison appears as if she’s regretting her decision to come to my rescue. I don’t blame her though, as I was a right royal dick to
her.

  I feel a purge approaching.

  “I’m sorry, Madison,” I say, and when she opens her mouth to speak, I place a finger over her lips to silence her. “Just let me finish.” She nods, her eyes softening as I remove my finger. “About the other day—I was out of line. I acted like a real asshole, and well…” I state, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’m sorry.”

  But it’s not only the other day I need to apologize for.

  “I’m sorry for everything,” I add, meaning every single word. “I should have called and made sure you were all right, but I thought you made your feelings quite clear that you never wanted to see me again.”

  She lowers her eyes as I’ve obviously struck a nerve, but she still doesn’t speak.

  “I’m so sorry for hurting you. It was never my intention to make you feel uncomfortable or scared. If I could take back that night, I would.”

  My confession has struck a nerve, and she looks up, tears pooling in her eyes. “You regret it?” she whispers, her lower lip quivering.

  “No,” I quickly reply, not wanting her to run away. “I’ve never regretted a moment spent with you. Especially not that,” I add, reaching out and running my knuckles down her cheek.

  I don’t know where this honesty has come from, but I decide to go with it because it feels so right.

  She leans into my touch, and her willingness has the alpha in me beating my chest in pride. “I know you have skeletons in your closet, we all do, but until you can get past whatever is biting at your heels, I think it’s for the best that, after this weekend, we don’t see one another.”

  Madison frowns. “Thank you for apologizing. You’re right, you were an asshole. I was actually coming down here to give you a piece of my mind. You were awful to me, Dixon,” she asserts, making me feel even worse than I already do. “But I was awful to you, too. I also owe you an apology.”

  “You owe me nothing,” I say with a firm shake of my head.

  But Madison perseveres. “Yes, I do. You’re not a mistake, you never were. I’m sorry for saying something so cruel. But you’re right. I do have a terrible past, and I’m trying to work through it. I’m just sorry I couldn’t work through it before I met you. But maybe we could still be friends? I mean…I’ve missed you this past month.”

  As appealing as that sounds, seeing her, touching her, and being near her proves to me that I can’t just be her friend. We were never just friends. After tasting her, I want something more and being her friend will end up driving me insane.

  She can see it written all over my face, and nods. “Okay, I get it. Not gonna happen.”

  “I’m sorry, but we were never just friends. There was always something more. I still want more, but it’s either all or nothing. I’m tired of playing games,” I say, watching a single tear roll down her cheek. “I should have told you earlier, but honestly, I didn’t know I wanted more until you walked out on me. I’m just as messed up as you are,” I confess, and let out a sarcastic snort.

  “I highly doubt that,” she replies with a sniff. “I meant what I said. It’s not you, it’s me.”

  Unable to help myself, I wrap my hand around her nape and draw our foreheads together. “In this circumstance, I think it’s the both of us. Maybe in another lifetime, angelo?” I say, and Madison gasps, her warm breath tickling my cheeks.

  “Maybe,” she replies half-heartedly.

  “Thank you so much for saving my ass today. I owe you.” I pull away and try to lighten the mood.

  Madison sniffs with a sad smile. “Consider it paying back my dues. You’ve saved my ass on more than one occasion, it’s time I start paying you back.”

  And that answers my question. She’s come to my rescue because she feels guilty for what transpired between us. But what she doesn’t realize is that I’m the one who’s sorry—for everything.

  “You owe me nothing,” I say once again.

  “I know, but I want to do this for you. I could see how uncomfortable you looked, and I couldn’t just walk by and not help you. I mean, even though you were a complete bastard to me the other morning, I can’t hate you. I tried,” she admits shyly. “This is the least I can do. I really am sorry, Dixon. I shouldn’t have kissed you back. You warned me I couldn’t take it back, and I didn’t want to, but…”

  “I understand,” I finish when she doesn’t continue. “Maybe in another lifetime,” I add, as that seems to fit our situation perfectly.

  “Maybe in another lifetime,” she sadly repeats with a nod. “So, we get through tonight, and I’ll be by your side, acting the part of the perfect girlfriend, I promise. And then when the night is over, it’s…goodbye?” she questions, her voice quivering.

  “Let’s just get through the evening first,” I reply, not wanting to be the one who makes that call.

  “Okay.” She nods, wiping her eyes. “Well, I better go find something to wear. I didn’t pack too many nice things, so I need all the time I can get to try and pull something presentable together.”

  As she attempts to stand, I stop her by placing my hand on her forearm. She looks down at our connection, and I know she feels it too.

  But ignoring those incessant sparks, I say, “Leave it to me.” When Madison raises a confused brow, I smile. “Let me do this for you.”

  She understands what I mean, and nods. “Okay, I’ll be waiting in my room. It’s 235.”

  “Perfect. Meet you in the lobby at seven?” I ask, still disbelieving she’s just agreed to be my girlfriend for the night.

  “Seven it is,” she replies, and stands. “See you soon.”

  “See you soon,” I repeat, watching her as she walks away from me.

  29

  My Girl

  MADISON

  After trying to hate Dixon for the past few days and failing, I knew I had to find him and confront him, because this feeling in the pit of my stomach was making me ill. I was sick of reprimanding him in my mind, and I knew the only way to get over him was to talk to him, face to face.

  It was easy to fall into the façade of pretending to be his girlfriend because if I wasn’t so emotionally screwed up, then I wouldn’t have to pretend.

  Once I get back to New York, I’m going to confront my demons instead of trying to run away from them. I don’t know if this strength comes from meeting Dixon, but whatever it is, I’m just glad I finally have the balls to do what’s right. My fear protects my assailant, and I’m sick of them living in the light while I’m confined to the dark.

  Once I find my light and if Dixon still wants me, then it’ll be our time, but until then, I have to work on becoming the stronger person I’ve always wanted to become. Or, like he said, maybe it’ll be our time in another lifetime.

  But first things first, I have to get through tonight.

  Dixon was quite vague in what he meant by “leave it to me.” I didn’t want to argue with him because it seems we both want to make right whatever went wrong between us, and doing little things for one another seems like the first step in doing just that.

  When a knock sounds at my door at 4 p.m., a burst of excitement charges through me and I walk to the entrance with a skip in my step. I open it and am greeted by a concierge, who’s holding a black garment bag.

  “Compliments of Dr. Mathews,” he says, passing me the bag.

  “Thank you.” I reach into my pocket for a tip.

  He waves me off. “No, Miss, it’s fine. It’s all been taken care of by Dr. Mathews. Enjoy your evening.”

  I nod and quickly close the door, excited to rip open the bag to see what’s inside. The moment I unzip it, a stunned breath leaves me, as I’m looking at the most gorgeous dress I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

  It’s a royal-blue silk cocktail gown, and as I carefully remove the garment from the bag, I see the mid-section is a sheer mesh decorated with blue sequins, so my upper torso is not totally bare. The sequined dress is long and fitting, and I can tell when I put it on, it’ll pool around the floor elegantly
. The neckline is a sweetheart cut and quite low. I have no doubt that’s the reason Dixon chose it.

  As I cautiously drape the dress on the end of my bed, I check the sizing. He’s so attentive to detail, so it doesn’t surprise me the dress is a perfect fit. I then go in search for appropriate shoes to wear. Hunting through my luggage, I remember I only brought a black-heeled pair, which I intended to wear with the dress I was planning on wearing this evening. They’ll have to do, as I don’t have anything else.

  When a knock sounds on the door, I wonder who that could be, as I’ve let Dr. Wellington know I’ll be accompanying Dixon tonight. After seeing our beef-off, he knew we had history, and thought it was a good idea for us to talk through whatever issues we had.

  When I open it, I’m greeted by the same concierge from earlier. “Hello, Miss. Once again, this is compliments of Dr. Mathews.” He hands me a big paper bag.

  I accept, stunned, as I was not expecting yet another gift. And I was definitely not expecting yet another expensive gift as, to judge from the name on the bag, it’s made by the same designer as the dress.

  Once my brain catches up, I quickly reach into my pocket for a tip, but the concierge waves me off. “Dr. Mathews is a very generous man,” he says with a smile before tipping his hat and walking away.

  I stand speechless, but compose myself enough to shut the door behind me. I place the bag onto the desk and hunt through it to find a shoebox and a smaller, rectangular box. Reaching for the shoebox, I open it up and pull away the white tissue paper to see a pair of silver strappy heels. They are simply beautiful, and although the heel is quite high, I know they’ll match the dress perfectly.

  I almost forget about the other box because the dress and shoes are really too much, but as I open it up, I have to agree with the concierge, Dr. Mathews is a very generous man. The small silver clutch matches the sparkly silver heels perfectly, and these accessories will set off the elegant gown beautifully.

  Looking at the clock, I decide to take a shower and get ready. However, yet another knock at the door interrupts my plans and I open it up, once again clueless to who is standing on the other side.