As the week started, Dax didn’t suggest getting together. That was fine. I kept myself busy with work and told myself that he was too busy, too. He texted me often, which made me believe that he really was busy with work-related things - whatever it was that he did - and not another woman. At least, that was what I kept telling myself. My insecurity and feelings about not being good enough were ridiculous.
At least the fact that I hadn't seen much of him lately was enough to make me believe that I was being as careful and as detached from things as I'd told Krista I would be. That night, I'd already seen way too much of Dax to be able to prove it was just a fling, but now it felt more like one. We had separate lives and we didn't have to keep checking in with each other.
When we texted - which was often, I had to admit - it wasn't to talk about ourselves or what the other was doing, but just to comment on the small things that were completely unrelated. It was nice being able to talk about nothing and everything and whatever lay in between.
When I got home on Tuesday, my phone rang and Dax's name popped up on the screen. I answered and I was already smiling.
“It's been too long since we properly spoke,” he said.
“We've been texting all day.”
“I know, but I can't hear your voice when we're texting.”
I flushed. Was it just me or was this guy being romantic?
“How was your day?” I sat down on the couch, handbag on the floor. I leaned back and gave my night over to Dax and however much he wanted of it.
He groaned. “I don't want to even talk about my day.”
“That bad, huh?”
“You have no idea.”
I didn't push it. I didn't want to ask what he did now. I wanted him to stay on the line and carry on talking about unrelated things the way we had all day.
“Well,” I said, trying to get his mind away from it. “My day was dull besides your texts. I have to re-edit something I did a while ago because my boss told me it wasn't good enough.”
“You have to show me some of your work sometime.”
“It's not very interesting.”
There was silence for a beat. “It's you. Everything about you is interesting.”
I couldn't help but smile. The sun was starting to set and my still-closed curtains made the place darker than it was outside. I sat in the dusk, with Dax's voice in my ear, the darkness growing heavier around me, and I loved it.
“It's a pity you and I aren't together. I would have helped you feel better.”
There was innuendo in my statement. I was aware of it. The same recklessness that accompanied him came over me again. It was like I was someone else when I was with him or talking to him; someone I liked.
“Really,” he said. His voice had changed, gotten deeper. “Tell me about it.”
I flushed again. I realized what he was asking me for. I'd meant for the statement to be double meaning, not for it to go into what he was suggesting. But... why not?
“I don't usually do this,” I said.
“I don't mind. Help me feel better, Jayna.”
How could I say no to a demand like that? I sank lower down on the couch.
“Well, I know how tense you get, and I've heard that the only real release for stress is sex.”
“Hmm.”
“Are you home?” I asked.
“Only for a while, but yes.”
I nodded, more to myself than to him. “Well, I would get rid of your pants. They always get in the way. I prefer it when you're not wearing them.”
“I'm not wearing my boxers,” he said. I shivered.
“Good. Because they'll just bother me. I know what you look like when you're all excited and I know those boxer briefs you wear are so restricting.”
He groaned into the phone.
“What are you going to do now that you've got me here without my pants on?”
The room was getting darker. I lowered my voice. It felt so close and intimate, even though we weren't in the same room. “I would go down on my knees, putting my face at just the right height. You're so hard and thick. I want you in my mouth, and that's where I'll have you.”
I heard him swallowing. I could picture him hard and wanting, and heat pooled between my own legs.
“You taste salty. I like it. I'd move my mouth over your cock, moving my head back and forth until you close your eyes and roll your head back. I'm not going to go all the way though, just enough so that you can't say no to me.”
“I don't want to say no to you.” His voice was hoarse, a deep growl. “Are you wet?”
I felt ridiculous admitting it to him, but I was. I nodded and made an affirmative sound.
“Are you touching yourself?”
I hesitated. He took it as a no. “Keep going, but touch yourself, sweetheart. Tell me what we're doing.”
I slipped my hand into my pants. I gasped when my fingers touched my clit. I was hot and wet and horny.
“I really want you to come over here and feel for yourself,” I said in a breathy voice. “It would be so much better.”
“God, you have no idea how badly I want that. But I can't do that right now. Tell me what we're doing, Jayna.”
I nodded even though he couldn't see it and kept talking. “I'm going to go down on you until you're about to come, but you can't do it yet. I'm not done yet. When you're on the edge I'll stop and get up. I strip naked in front of you, and then I push you back so that you sit on your couch. I wanted you to look at me when we do this.”
“This is so good,” Dax said in just a whisper and I imagined him palming himself, too, thinking about me. It was strangely erotic and intoxicating.
“I'll get on top of you, slide down on you until you're buried all the way inside of me, and then start rocking my hips. I wanted you to look at me, see every inch of my body from my eyes down to my breasts to where our bodies meet.”
He growled into the phone. My body felt like it was on fire. I worked myself in little circles, feeling an orgasm build. I kept talking. I told him how I would ride him, buck my hips harder, rub my clit against his pubic bone while I was at it.
Somewhere the orgasm took over and washed through me and I curled on the couch until I was lying down. I made small sounds into the phone.
“God, Jayna,” Dax said and I imagined him reaching his release, too. When he cleared his throat I knew it was over.
“Holy shit, woman,” he said and he was out of breath. “When I'm seeing you again we're doing this for real.”
“Okay,” I said meekly. I pulled my hand out of my pants. My legs felt like jelly. Dax made a moaning sound that was more disappointment than lust.
“Sweetheart, I have to go.”
We ended off the conversation and when he hung up it was just me, alone in the dark room, my body lightly vibrating all over and my mind reeling. This man was starting to mean a lot more to me than just someone I could be causal with. We were starting to act like a couple. I wasn't so sure anymore that it wasn't what I wanted.
But he was busy. It was a good thing. Maybe it would allow me time to consider what was important and if this was really a good idea. Still, he seemed to be making time for me when he could, and that counted for something. That made me think that maybe he wasn't busy with other women, maybe I really was the only woman he thought about.
The weekend rolled around faster than expected. We got a huge project in, and the rest of the week was so packed that it was Saturday before I could blink. I woke up to my phone buzzing with a text from Dax, letting me know he wanted to pick me up at eleven. We were going to spend the day together - he'd found something he wanted to surprise me with.
I showered and got dressed in a yellow dress and cork flip-flops that made me look as small town as I could ever be. But I liked the clothes; they felt like me, and I wasn't going to change them for something sexier that didn't feel as comfortable. When I opened the door for Dax, he looked me up and down and smiled.
“I don't think you understand how breathtaking you are,” he said. I blushed. I couldn't help it. Every time he said something to me it had the same effect. He wore jeans and a collared, short sleeved shirt, another outfit that seemed out of character. But he looked good, and somehow we matched.
He took me to the carnival. The carnival! It was how it used to be when I was little, with gaming tents, and music, and the smell of popcorn and sugar in the air. A Ferris Wheel towered above the tents. Dax took my hand in his, and we walked through the tents.
He won a stuffed bear at a ring toss competition that he gave to me - a giant white thing that I had to carry everywhere. He bought me cotton candy and root beer and we talked and laughed. It was all innocent, sober fun. It proved to me that we could be normal together. And that made me fall for him that much more.
“Do you want to go on the Ferris Wheel?” he asked when we'd spent hours walking around and trying different foods. I nodded. We packed the bear in and sat on either side of it. The view was spectacular as we rose higher and higher, LA's skyline against a golden sky.
Dax pulled the bear out of its seat between us, shifted over, and put it next to him on the outside. When we reached the top, the Ferris Wheel stopped. It was amazing being suspended up so high.
Dax turned my face to him and kissed me. It was a long, hot kiss that sent sparks all the way down to my toes. He took my hand and put it in his lap. I felt how hard he was immediately. He looked at me with eyes that asked everything without him saying a word. I looked over the edge. They didn't seem to be in a hurry to let the ride continue, so I unbuckled his belt and wrapped my fingers around his thick flesh.
He gasped when I started moving my hand up and down. I stroked him, squeezed him, jacking him off right up here in the sky with the city at our feet. Dax closed his eyes and groaned. I considered leaning down into his lap and sucking him off, but that was pushing it. There were kids around and the last thing I needed was for one of them to look up. I wanted him, though. I wanted all of him. I pushed my hand under his shirt and onto the bare skin on his back.
He winced. The skin was raised slightly, like there were welts. I wanted to ask, but suddenly I was scared of the answer. Instead I removed my hand again and focused on getting him to his release before the ride was fixed - or whatever they were doing down there.
Dax cried out in a muffled voice and ropes of white, hot liquid spurted out of his head and over my hand. It fell on his jeans. I laughed. He made a sound that was between a gasp and a laugh. The ride started moving. Dax tucked himself away into his pants again. I fished in my handbag and found a tissue. It wasn't going to take away the sticky feeling but it would take away the worst.
When it was time to get out of the Ferris Wheel we looked like any other couple. Except for the wet patches on Dax's jeans and my red cheeks.
I took Dax's hand and led him through the tents until we were hidden away. He pushed me up against the wooden wall of the control booth, his hands on my breasts, rubbing my nipples until they were erect and straining against my bra. We were both suddenly out of breath.
“You know we can't do it here,” I said.
“I know.”
“So, take me to my place and return the favor. I want you.”
He kissed me again when I said that and my body screamed for his. He broke the kiss when it got too urgent.
“I have a better idea. Are you up for something more dangerous than home but less of a problem than here?”
I didn't know what he had in mind, but we'd had sex in an alley. With Dax, it turned out I was up for a lot of things. He put his lips against my ear. His hot breath gave me goose bumps.
“Why don't you show me your office?”
Flashes of us having sex on my desk danced in my mind and lust surged through my body. I swallowed. “Okay.”
We walked back to my car, hand in hand. Dax drove. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, even if he didn't have his own car. We made our way through town and he parked in the empty parking lot at work. I often worked late but usually there were others that worked overtime, too. It had never been this empty.
“Do you know where all the security cameras are?” he asked.
I nodded. “We have to check in through the front but we can just use my employee card - it will look like I was alone on the system. There are no cameras in my department.”
Dax nodded. I unlocked the door with my keys and walked into the lobby. There was a sign in desk for visitors on the one side and a roller gate for employees on the other that needed an access card. Dax pressed himself against me, his whole body up against mine. I was aware of his cock, already hard again, pressing against my lower back. He kissed my neck. I swiped us through, and we stepped past the gate together. It was easier to sneak into this place than I'd imagined.
We went up to the third floor and I walked through the door into my department. All the work stations were empty. The lights were off. The place looked forlorn. Lonely.
“I've never been here when it's this empty,” I said, my voice almost in a whisper.
“There's always a first time.”
I nodded. I walked to my desk and flicked on the little lamp on my desks. It was the only point of light on the whole floor, other than the safety lights. I looked around. It was a thrill to be here. I knew we were doing something wrong, but I liked being rebellious. I liked breaking the rules.
“Where does your boss work?” Dax asked. I rolled my chair back and pointed to the office with the blinds that were always down.
“He never stops working.”
“Kind of like someone else I know.” He kissed me on the neck again and I shivered. He slid his hands over my shoulders and onto my breasts. He nibbled and licked my neck, massaged my breasts in circles. I arched my back and opened my legs, showing him what I wanted. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted him to strip me and take me, do whatever he wanted with me. I wanted him to claim me as his own right here where I worked so that there would be no way to forget it whenever I was at work.
This was a whole new definition for the concept of 'overtime'.
I moaned and turned my face to his. He traced my jaw with his tongue before his lips found my mouth. He pushed me open with his tongue, swirling it around mine. I moaned again. He made a moaning kind of sound, too, and spun the chair around so that it faced him. He knelt down and put his hands on my thighs. He rubbed up and down, pulling the skirt with him as he went. His hands were very close to my sex, his fingers almost touching every time he reached the top of my thighs. I opened my legs wider, inviting him to touch me. He didn't. Instead he kept teasing me. I was sure that I was going to explode.
Then, he stopped. I frowned and moaned in protest. “You're torturing me,” I complained. He gave me a wicked smile and kissed me on the nose.
“Why don't you show me what you do?” he asked. I groaned. The last thing I wanted to do was video editing, but he did ask me to show him, and maybe he would keep his hands on me while he did. That was what I wanted.
I turned the chair around and fired up the computer. The screens flickered to life.