Chapter Eleven
Lisa
My legs are like jelly as I take a deep breath and brace myself.
“Ready?”
I nod in response to the male voice behind me, but I’m not sure I’m ready at all. I’m terrified.
And a little excited, but mostly scared spitless.
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen,” the guy says into the mike. “Our next performer is Miss Lisa Michaels singing ‘Bootylicious’ with a little help from Destiny’s Child.”
There’s a tepid round of applause, and a few leers from the biker guys at the bar. A few feet away, Dax gives me an encouraging smile. Though he offered to do this with me, I had something else in mind.
Something that scares the ever-lovin’ hell out of me right now.
“You got this,” Dax mouths.
It’s not the words but the mouth that sends a bolt of courage through me. Or maybe it’s the memory of where that mouth has been, and where I’d like it to be again. The opening notes blast through the speakers on either side of me, a riff on Stevie Nicks’s “Edge of Seventeen,” and I’m inspired to do my own riff on the opening lines.
“Cassie, can you handle this?” I sing, my voice cracking as I channel my sexually liberated younger sister.
I clear my throat as the beat pulses, and I try not to choke on my own spit. “Missy, can you handle this?”
Okay, so my older sister would be mortified to see me strutting across the stage like a hoochie right now, but isn’t that the point? Feeling eyes on me, I attempt a small, sexy wiggle, stumbling when my heel catches on a cord.
My palms are sweating as I watch the lyrics scroll past on a flickering screen. I belt out the next few lines, voice warbling as I try to recall how the tune goes.
Tender thang?
Ready for this jelly?
What the hell does this song even mean?
My eyes flick to Dax, and I catch his hungry gaze on my ass. I give a little wiggle and remember why I picked this song.
I belt out the next few lines, gaining confidence as Dax’s eyes follow me across the stage. I sound more like an injured cat than a sexy R&B singer, but I’m doing this, dammit. I’m up here with the spotlight making my skin sizzle, or maybe that’s all Dax. I lock eyes with him as I sing the next words.
“Baby, can you handle this?”
I sway my hips, attempting another booty shake. I’m amazed when I remain upright, and even more amazed when I spin back around to see Dax has moved to the edge of the bench seat. His eyes are feral, hungry, and when I glance at his lap, there’s a telltale bulge.
My confidence swells, sending pulse-beats of energy through me.
“My body too bootylicious!” I yelp, no longer worried that I can’t carry a tune. I’ve got Dax’s full attention, and that’s all I care about. That, and finishing this song as fast as possible so I can have his hands on me again.
The last notes have barely faded when he’s out of his seat and tossing a wad of cash onto the table. He catches my arm amid a smattering of applause, but I barely hear it. My heart thuds in my ears, along with Dax’s voice as he steers me toward a dark hallway in the corner of the room.
“Outside,” he growls. “Now.”
“But—”
“Yes,” he says as he pushes through a door and into the cool night air. “You have the most amazing butt I’ve ever seen, and if I don’t get my hands on it in the next ten seconds, I’m going to fucking explode.”
We tumble into the alley together, breathless in the crisp night air with the pounding of bass fading as the door clangs shut behind us. We face each other across darkened asphalt, the spicy scent of hot wing sauce clinging to us like pheromones. The heat between us is palpable, and I lick my lips as I look up at Dax. “You liked the song?”
He gives a soft growl and closes the space between us, his body huge and predatory. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
I resist the urge to giggle, knowing it wasn’t my singing prowess that got him. It was something else, something almost chemical between us. We’re burning up with it, and my flesh feels fiery despite the chill in the air.
“Touch me,” I murmur, but I don’t need to ask. He’s already there.
Dax presses me up against the brick wall of the building, and I glance left to make sure we’re alone. The alley dead-ends on the other side of us, but there could be a parade of clowns closing in on us from the street and I wouldn’t know.
I probably wouldn’t care, either. That’s how desperate I am to feel Dax’s hands on me. I would drop my panties on the fifty-yard line at the Super Bowl.
Speaking of panties—
“Give me your hand,” I whisper, then grab it anyway. I slide it under my skirt and watch his eyes widen as his fingers graze bare flesh.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “You’re bare.”
I nod as a shiver ripples through me. It’s not a chill from my lack of underwear. It’s the thrill of knowing I did this with Dax in mind. I left those perfect La Perla skivvies lying on my duvet at home, knowing full well this is how the night would end.
Well, not exactly like this. I guess I didn’t see myself getting frisky in an alley, but I have no objections.
“I wasn’t brave enough to go braless like you asked,” I whisper. “But with a longer skirt, I thought this might be okay.”
“Oh, baby.” His voice is a growl as his knuckles graze the softness between my legs before sliding around to the back. “This is better than okay. It’s fucking fantastic.”
I let my head fall against the brick building as Dax kisses his way down my throat and into the V of my shirt. Both hands are under my skirt, and his grip on my ass reminds me of the song.
“Bootylicious,” Dax murmurs, reading my thoughts as he kneads my bare ass. “Tell me something.”
“Mmm?” It’s the closest thing to actual words I can manage. His fingers grip and squeeze and leave my ass cheeks feeling like they’re on fire.
“Why’d you pick that song?”
I groan as he nips my earlobe, and my fingers find their way under the hem of his shirt. His back is broad and hard, and it takes me a second to remember he asked a question.
“It’s a good song,” I manage, gasping as Dax grips my ass tighter.
“That wasn’t the question,” he chides. “I wanted to know why you chose it.”
“Oh,” I gasp as he dips two fingers into the wetness between my legs. I grip his shoulders, dizzy with desire as he swirls the pads of his fingers through my slickness.
“Tell me, Lisa.”
“Wha—what? Don’t stop.”
He swirls the fingers in a gentle circle around my clit, then dips them back into me. I gasp as he draws them out again and heads the other direction this time. His movements are slick and gentle and oh-so-very slow. I part my legs wider, aching for him to keep going. To touch me there—
“Is that what you want?” His breath is in my ear, his fingertips scant centimeters from my back door. “You want me to play with your ass?”
The words send shockwaves of desire pulsing through me. I nod because I can’t bring myself to say it out loud. To admit that’s what I’ve been dying to try. Where I want him to touch me.
“Dax,” I whisper, hoping he won’t make me say it out loud. He’s right there, so close, so poised to give me what I’m craving.
He draws back and looks me in the eye. Our gazes hold like that for a few breathless moments, neither of us saying a word. It’s Dax who shatters the silence.
“Later,” he says.
I blink. “What?”
“You don’t know how badly I want to touch your tight little ass,” he growls. “To slide in my finger or my cock and watch you squirm. But your first time?”
I nod, too stunned by his words to answer, or to even be sure it was a question. But he’s right, I’ve never done that before. Booty play? Not for girls like me. But I’ve wanted to, or at least I do now. I squirm against him, desperate with need.
“Later.” He repeats the vow in a thick growl, and I’m not sure whether I’m more excited by what he’s promising, or the fact that it’s somewhere in the future. That this thing between Dax and me doesn’t have an end date just yet.
His breath skims my ear again, and I give a soft little gasp. “But I can still make you scream.”
Before I can say a word, he drops to his knees on the asphalt. No padding, no hesitation, just goes for it. Pushing my skirt up around my hips with one hand, he clutches my ass with the other. “I’ve been dying to taste you,” he growls.
Then his mouth is on me. I gasp as swirls of shimmering pleasure pulse through my whole body. “Dax,” I gasp, and clutch the back of his head.
His tongue plunges into me, and my knees go weak. He grips my ass tighter, pressing me against his mouth while my spine roots me against the brick wall. I close my eyes, leaning into the sensation as light and color swirl around me. His mouth makes me mindless, teasing, licking, probing.
“Oh God,” I gasp, fisting my fingers in his hair. I loosen my grip when he gives a small grunt of pain, but he doesn’t stop. His tongue keeps teasing, moving everywhere at once.
Lights flicker behind my eyelids, and a spear of pleasure spikes right through my spine. My whole body stiffens, and I know what’s coming.
Me.
“Yes!” My shriek bounces off the brick walls, and I bite my lip to keep from doing it again. But each burst of sensation rocks me back on my heels as Dax strokes and sucks and makes me mindless with his mouth.
I’m still panting as the sensation ebbs and I open my eyes. Dax stands up and yanks out his wallet. I start to spin around, ready to brace my palms against the brick. Ready to feel him slide into me from behind.
But Dax grabs my hip with one hand as he tears open the condom wrapper with his teeth. “No,” he says. “I want to see you this time.”
I drop my hands to his fly and undo his jeans with alarming speed. I’m dying to feel that thick shaft in my palm again.
“Hurry,” I whisper, though he already is. He slides on the condom, then clamps both hands around my hips.
“I want you like this,” he growls as he hoists me up and pins me against the wall with his body. I wrap my legs around him, knowing exactly how the choreography goes, even though I’ve never done this in my life.
He sinks into me in one slick motion, filling me so completely that it’s all I can do to keep from crying out. I bite my lip and taste blood, but I don’t care. As Dax draws back and drives into me again, my whole body arches to take him in.
“Fuck, you feel good.” It’s his voice in my ear, but the words echo through my head in my own voice.
So fucking good.
That’s not even something I’d say, but I’m feeling it now. Experiencing pleasure like I’ve never felt before.
“Dax.” I gasp and grind against him, grateful for the wall at my back, for the delicious angle that lets me grind against him just like that—
“I’m close,” I gasp, astonished that it could happen so soon. He drives into me again, and the sensation grips me, yanking me over the edge and into another dizzying bliss spiral.
“God, Lisa,” he groans, and I feel him let go, too. His fingers clutch my ass, and he pumps me with such force I see glitter behind my eyelids. He gives a soft groan, and stiffens in my arms, between my legs, driving into me until he’s spent.
We both stand there panting for a few heartbeats. Well, he’s standing. I’m still pinned against the wall with my legs around his waist, so I slowly lower myself to the ground and tug my skirt down. I straighten my Mötley Crüe shirt and avert my gaze while Dax gets rid of the condom in a nearby dumpster.
The fact that I’ve just had sex less than five feet from a dumpster should alarm me. It should make me feel like trash.
Should, should, should—
How much of my life has been driven by that word?
Dax returns to my side and gives me a smile that’s almost sheepish. It’s an odd shift from the alpha aggressor who drove into me with such force only seconds ago, and the contrast makes me smile back.
“Hey,” I murmur, trying to play it cool.
“Hey back,” he says, and kisses the side of my neck. He kisses my chin, too, then presses his lips to mine for the slowest, deepest, softest kiss imaginable. When he draws back, we’re both a little starry-eyed.
“Sorry we didn’t get to fulfill all your fantasies,” he murmurs. “The bootylicious one?”
My cheeks go warm, and I glance down at my toes. “There’s still time.”
“Definitely. Before this is all over, I promise.”
The words are hopeful, but their finality sends me crashing down a wall of disappointment. It shouldn’t be that way. We pledged to end this after thirty days. To get what we needed from each other and walk away with a handshake at the end.
Am I starting to change my mind?
I nod, not sure whether I’m answering Dax’s question or my own.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Before this is all over.”