Homewrecker (Into the Flames #1)

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Homewrecker (Into the Flames #1) Page 16

by Cat Mason


  “I’m your wife, Gunnar, you can have me whenever you want me.” It’s the truth, as much as I want him to try new things and be open to exploring, I’d never deny him this. Angry or not, fighting or completely content, I’m still his wife and I need to feel connected to him right now.

  He flicks the button on my jeans and as soon as my zipper is down and he slides his fingers into me, someone starts banging on the bedroom door. Gunnar shakes his head, pressing it to my chest.

  “Food’s ready, assholes,” Dixon yells through the closed door. “Pull it out and get out here.”

  “Motherfucker,” Gunnar grumbles, pushing away from me. He grabs my hand, helping me off the bed, and waits for me to put my clothes back where they belong before ripping open the door to meet a shirtless Dixon. “Cock blocker.”

  “We weren’t eatin’ without you and the food is gettin’ cold.” He shrugs, watching my hands as I slide them around Gunnar’s bare stomach and up his chest.

  “It’s called a microwave, asshole,” I bite out, my lips grazing the back of Gunnar’s shoulder. “I have something other than a hot dog that I want in my mouth.”

  “You have a house full of people, you can have a manwich full of dick later when no one will hear the bed banging. Come out, eat with us, and entertain.”

  “But I thought that’s why you brought the stripper to the party. Is she not enough entertainment for you, Dixon?”

  Dixon turns revealing a set of scratches running down his back. “Whoa,” Gunnar chuckles. “Looks like she’s got claws.”

  Dixon smirks, his eyes glancing at me before he looks back at Gunnar again and shrugs. “What can I say? Gotta love a freak in the sheets.”

  “Carli looks more like a cheap whore lookin’ to score, but that’s just me.” I shrug. “Who knows, maybe you’ll live happily ever after with your herpes, cheap spray tan, and witty conversations.”

  Gunnar laughs, stepping out of my grasp. “I’m goin’ outside before I get stuck in the middle of this conversation since I can’t fuck my wife without interruption. Bring the rest of the stuff out on your way through.”

  It’s silent until we hear the sliding door close. “Are you done?” Dixon’s eyes bore into me and he steps closer. Ducking between him and the wall I head down the hall to the kitchen.

  “Yeah, Dixon, I’m done,” I say, the tone in my voice final.

  “Not what I meant, Sunshine.” Reaching out he grabs my shirt in an attempt to stop me from walking away, but I pull free.

  “It might not be what you meant, but it’s what you’re getting. So why don’t you go back out and sit with airhead Barbie before Lynsey eats her alive.”

  Grabbing the salad bowl from the cupboard, I set it on the counter before pulling everything from the fridge. I easily rip the bag of lettuce open and dump it in before moving on to shred some carrots. Dixon, who has never helped before, grabs a knife and starts working on the other veggies.

  “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, Kennedy.”

  “Why don’t I shove my fist up your ass, Dixon?” I counter. “I like that idea much better.”

  “You know what I’d like?”

  Dropping the stuff in my hands into the bowl, I press my palms against the counter and finally look at him. He’s still the same sexy guy that I love to feel fucking me, but it hurts to even look at him, let alone think about that.

  “Another blonde bitch with big fake tits?” I ask, peering over his shoulder to where she’s twirling her hair around her finger. Lynsey’s eyes connect with mine, pleading with me to come back out. “I hope she’s as good at fucking as she is at picking up on sarcasm.”

  “I’ll show you what a good fuck is,” Dixon responds, ignoring everything that I said.

  “How are you going to do that? By calling Gunnar back inside and leaving us alone for a bit?”

  His eyes flair and he crosses his arms over his chest. “Nowhere near, Sunshine.” Dropping his arms, he leans closer to me. “I’d bend you over this fuckin’ counter, rip those damn jeans off your body, grab you by the hips and hair, and then I would fuck you ‘til you couldn’t stand. Then you know what? I’d keep fuckin’ you. I wouldn’t stop ‘til you begged me to, and I’m not even sure I’d stop then.”

  I start to open my mouth so I can tell him to go fuck himself, but Gunnar slides the door open. “Do I need to separate you two?” he laughs.

  Grabbing the bowl full of lettuce and carrots, I slide between the door frame and Gunnar. Reaching up, I wrap my hand around his neck and pull him down to my lips again. I love his mouth, his taste, I love everything about him, even if I know he’s holding back from me. I can get over that at the moment. I’m not sure what I was thinking when I thought I needed what Dixon could give me, because what he gives me only hurts me. The least he could have done was give me a heads up that he didn’t want to do this anymore and that he was bringing a bimbo to dinner to prove it.

  Halfway through dinner Carli gets out of her chair and slides onto Dixon’s lap. I’ve tried my hardest to ignore the fact that they were here together and finish eating, but I can’t anymore. Dropping my fork, I push the plate away from me, not able to eat anymore without wanting to throw it back up.

  “You know, when you said you wanted me to come to dinner at your married friend’s house, I expected a bunch of kids,” she giggles, twirling a piece of hair around her finger. I swear I think it’s a crank to power her fucking brain.

  Twist faster, honey, it’s not working.

  I choke on my breath, nearly throwing up what I just ate for a totally new reason. “Dixon’s the only child that’s usually in the house.”

  “For now,” Gunnar adds, smiling to himself. “Soon enough the house will be filled with kids.”

  My mood suddenly shifts from being mad at Dixon, to being mad at Gunnar again. I stand up, shoving my chair back roughly as I do. “I’m glad you seem to think that you get to make all the decisions. Did you ever think that you might want to ask me how I feel about becoming a stay-at-home housebitch? If you want kids so badly right now, maybe you should push them out and stay at home to take care of them. But I guess since you can’t handle a finger, you wouldn’t be able to handle a whole fucking body coming out of your ass.”

  I walk away, not bothering to say anything to anyone else because I know it will come out badly. I don’t even say goodbye to Lynsey and Mark even though I know I won’t be coming back out of the bedroom before they leave. Dropping to the bed, I crawl across it, burying my face in the pillow.

  I hate this. Everything is so messed up and I know it’s because of me. My hot then cold attitude is completely uncalled for toward Gunnar and even I know that, but I can’t control it. Everything that has happened to make us fight, and everything that has come out of my mouth to further instigate the arguments, is my fault.

  It doesn’t take very long before I hear everyone’s vehicles pulling out and the bedroom door creak open. Slowly, Gunnar slides into bed behind me and wraps his arms around me, causing me to breakdown and sob. I roll over, tucking my face into his chest because what I realize now more than ever is I don’t deserve him at all.

  Dropping the rag and spray I’ve been using to clean the store with, I rip my phone from my back pocket and answer it with a growl in my throat.

  “If you’re not dying, dead, or giving me a million fucking dollars, I don’t have any reason to talk to you.”

  “Kennedy,” Dixon says, his voice sounding completely tortured.

  Not able to listen to his excuses with that tone in his voice without giving in, I jam my thumb against the screen to end the call, then pull the back and battery off the phone, dropping the pieces to the counter. He’s texted me for days. Every chance he had that he knew Gunnar wouldn’t be near me, he’d call me, following it up with a text me when I didn’t answer, begging me to talk to him. I couldn’t though. If I had answered him, if I had let him explain, I’d break. Grabbing the rag, I get back to work, muttering under my bre
ath the entire time.

  “Fuck, I’d be afraid to know how rough your hand jobs are if your dusting scares me,” Lynsey laughs, flinching when I scrub harder.

  Lifting my head from the hole I’m scrubbing in the glass, I glare at her. “I suggest if you don’t want the oversized can of antibacterial cleaner shoved up your ass without lube, that you shut your whore mouth and walk away.”

  “And I suggest if you don’t want me cock slap you stupid with a Torpedo Driver, you simmer down and figure your shit. Whatever is going on can’t be that bad.” She doesn’t take my silence as a hint for her to leave me alone and keeps going. “Is it Dixon or Gunnar this time?”

  “None of your business,” I mutter.

  “Well,” she says, shifting her hip to the side and resting her hand there. “Since one of them is about to walk through the door of my store, I think that makes it my business. Now figure your shit out, or leave until you’re done being a bitch.”

  I turn my head just in time to catch a glimpse of Dixon before he pulls back the door. Dropping everything, I walk as fast as I can to the door to the back room, stopping short only because I am cut off by both Lynsey and Dixon yelling at me at the same time. I slowly turn around and can feel them judging me before I can even see their faces.

  “Whatever the hell this is,” Lynsey growls, pointing between the two of us. “Fix it. I refuse to let your issues fuck all of us up. Shit is so goddamn out of hand around here that I’m about to whip everyone’s fuckin’ asses bloody. Hash it the hell out, and move on. Now.”

  Leaving us alone, she heads up to the front of the store and the room around us fills with such a tense silence that I feel it strangling me. Stepping back up to the counter, I press my hands flat on the glass that I just spent way too much energy cleaning, and drop my head.

  “Ignorin’ me is not the way to get rid of me, Kennedy. I don’t like it and after all these years you should know that.”

  “Oh wow,” I say without lifting my head. “Something else you don’t like. Imagine that.”

  “Will you just tell me what the fuck it is that I did wrong so I can fix it?”

  Ignoring his question, I raise my head, squaring off my shoulders, and toss one out of my own. “How about you tell me what the fuck was going through your thick skull when you decided that it would be a good idea to bring some size zero whore into my house? I get that I’m not your type, Dixon, I’m not stupid. I have eyes and I see the women that you’re usually with and that’s not me, but did you need to rub that in?”

  “Kennedy,” he starts, trying to cut me off but I don’t let him. If I don’t get out what I’m thinking now, I never will.

  “No, don’t try to stop me, Dixon. We both know it’s true. I understand that I’m not what you’re looking for and it was probably just a game to you, but that doesn’t mean it’s OK to rub that in my face. I’m not a tiny girl, and you know what, I’m good with that. I love the way I am and if you don’t like it, too fucking bad for you because I’m amazing.”

  “God dammit, woman. Will you stop runnin’ off at the mouth for a minute?” Taking a deep breath, I keep myself from blurting again and finally look him in the eyes. “Your mother hasn’t been around, so who the hell put that shit in your head? You’re more than amazing, Kennedy, you’re perfect. I love havin’ somethin’ to fill my hands, and I love that I know you won’t break when I need to, and want to, manhandle you.”

  “So why bring your tiny little fuck buddy into my house?”

  Shaking his head, Dixon scrubs his hands over the stubble on his cheeks. “Because Gunnar was starting to notice that I wasn’t fuckin’ anything that offered to drop to their knees. I’m not fuckin’ her, Sunshine. I’m not fuckin’ anyone but you. You’re the only person I want wrapped around my cock. I wasn’t lyin’ when I said I wanted to bend you over the counter and fuck you ‘til you screamed the other night. The thought crosses my mind every time I’m near you. But I didn’t act on it even though I probably had time to at least fill you with my fingers, because I didn’t want to chance getting caught and fuckin’ up your marriage or losin’ my brother. I don’t want to ruin anything, but I can’t get enough of you.”

  “I love Gunnar,” I admit quietly. “Things might not be the greatest right now, but I still love him. He wants kids, and I do too, but not right now.”

  “So what’s the issue?”

  “The issue is, I want everything we ever talked about, but I want you too. I don’t want to have to choose, because I don’t think I can. It would hurt too much to give up either of you. I’m being pulled between the both of you in ways I can’t even begin to deal with. When I’m with Gunnar, I feel so loved and cherished and protected. Even though there are issues between him and me right now, I still know he loves me,” I explain, my eyes dropping to my hands. “Then, when I’m with you, I feel... different. I forget to hate myself for doing what I know is wrong. I don’t know what to do about it, Dix, but I can’t deny needing what you both give me.”

  “Sunshine…”

  “I’m a horrible person.” I groan, staring up at the ceiling. “Selfish and all I’m doing is setting off a chain reaction that will do nothing but set off the blast that causes everything to blow up in my face in the end.”

  Leaning into the counter, he drops his hands on top of mine, running his fingers over my skin. I know I probably shouldn’t give in to him, but every piece of me is begging to let him touch me again. Even though I shouldn’t, but I know I’m going to.

  “You don’t have to choose, Kennedy. This works, it just takes patience.”

  “Why didn’t you give me a heads up?” I mumble meeting his eyes, switching subjects before it gets too heavy for me.

  The corner of his mouth perks up, causing that fucking dimple to poke out, and he knows he has me right where he wants me. “I didn’t realize the thought of me with another chick would make you jealous. But it did, and it was cute.”

  “Jealousy is not cute.” I pout, trying to pull my hand away.

  Grabbing my wrist, Dixon drags me around the counter and looks around before pulling me toward the dressing room. With the door shut firmly behind us, he slams me against the wall, grinding his hips into mine as his erection rubs against my stomach.

  “How the fuck you think you aren’t what I want is beyond me when I’m constantly fuckin’ hard around you.” Running his hands along my sides, over my breasts, and up into my hair, he tangles his fingers into the strands and tips my head back. “Do you know how hard it was not to tell Gunnar that it was you that left those nail marks on my back? Every time I moved and felt ‘em, I got hard again because I wanted to be inside of you, creating new ones.”

  This wasn’t supposed to get this far. Sex, that’s all this was meant to be. Now, not only am I getting pissed off at the mere thought of Dixon being with someone else, but he’s saying that he only wants to fuck me. If that’s the truth, something needs to change. I don’t like feeling jealous of other women, but the only person I should be that way with is Gunnar. Dixon should be free to fuck whoever he wants. He should be, but part of me doesn’t want him to be.

  Stepping away from me, Dixon grabs the chair from the corner of the room and pulls it back to me, spinning it so the back is facing the mirror. Dipping his hand into his pocket, he pulls out the plug he used on me and spins it so the jewel glistens in the light. My body flushes, remembering how hard I came the last time I had that inside me. He hands it to me and I wrap my fingers around the warm metal as his hands drift to my jeans. Without taking his eyes off of mine, he slides them down over my hips, telling me to step out of them after I kick my sandals off.

  “Bend over,” he instructs. Grabbing the plug, he slides his hand over my ass when I do and slips his finger into my already wet pussy. “Don’t move.”

  Through the mirror I watch as he opens the door and peeks around it to make sure there isn’t anyone outside the room. Stepping out, he closes the door behind him, but is back before I ha
ve a chance to even wonder what he left for. Behind me, Dixon drops to his knees, burying his tongue inside of me. My mouth falls open, but I try to keep myself silent as he attempts to make me scream. I need to stay quiet because I can already imagine what Lynsey will say so the last thing I need to do is give her more ammunition. I hear the package tear before I feel the cool liquid run down the crack of my ass. The tip of the plug presses against my ass after he rolls it through the gel and I force myself to relax like he told me last time. I groan loudly before I can catch the noise as the plug slips into me. I can feel Dixon laughing even though it’s silent as he presses his lips against my tailbone.

  Running his hands up my sides, he lifts my shirt as he pulls me until I’m standing and then slides it over my head. Kicking my feet apart, Dixon reaches between my legs and pulls the slat-backed chair between them.

  “I’m gonna take my cock out, and when I sit down, you’re gonna follow until your tight pussy is wrapped around the entire thing. You’re gonna fuck yourself with my dick while I watch your sexy body in the mirror.”

  I’m not sure what to say as he settles in behind me. Sitting on the edge of the chair, he leans back against the wall and his hands grip my hips, his fingers brushing over my sun tattoo. Not letting me hesitate about anything until I’m filled with his cock, he slides deep. The piercings on his cock hit me in different, amazing ways at this angle. The fullness is almost painful, but the sensation has me whimpering and wanting more. Reaching around me, he pulls me back against his chest before ripping the cups of my bra down so my breasts spill over the top. His fingers roll over my nipples, pinching them roughly and my eyes close.

  “Open your eyes, Kennedy. I want your eyes on mine the entire time unless I say otherwise.”

  I do as I’m told even though I know somewhere deep inside of me there is a smart ass remark simply waiting to be said. I know if I open my mouth nothing will come out except a moan, so I bite my lip to keep it in. Grabbing ahold of the slats on the back of the chair, I roll my hips, trying like hell to keep my eyes on his as I do. It doesn’t take long before I get into a rhythm that I can lose myself in.

 

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