Irrevocably Mine (Imagine Ink Book 3) (11 page)

Turning to tell him the good news brought the realization that he was
leaving
leaving, like halfway down the steps leaving. Dax was already on the last rung when she ran after him and flung herself on his back like a monkey. Dax stumbled but spun around and caught her in his arms. Stacy had the feeling he always would. No matter what, he would catch her. With the foot height difference between them, her position a step above him afforded her a rare view of Dax. The hurt in his dark eyes tore her up. She was responsible for it.

“Please, come back inside. I want to do this, the whole this, long lost daughters and all. I want you Dax, in my life, not just my bed. I think I need a relationship with you, which, I’m not gonna lie, is scary as fuck. It won’t be easy, I can promise you that, but I am willing to try to make it work. Just give me time, this is new territory for me.” Stacy didn’t miss the flair in his eyes at the word
need.
Dax was a man who wanted to be wanted, but needed to be needed. She could tell the message wasn’t lost on him. For her to need anything was a huge deal, and he knew it. She also liked to think he would interpret her need as love until she was ready to say the words.

Dax’s mouth was rough and unyielding. Desperate. When he broke the kiss, they were both panting. “Do you mean it, woman? Because I can’t do casual. I know I let you believe I would try, but I can’t. It’s all or nothing. I’m sorry, I can’t offer anything else.” His voice was rougher than usual and it meant so much to her that he needed her on that level and was man enough to admit it. No games, no cat and mouse, just take me as I am or not at all. Very Dax, very country song. It reminded her of a band she used to go see in a bar in Kansas—Bad Attitude. She couldn’t remember the title of the song they sang, but it was basically that. Take me as I am, as you see me. Hold me in your arms. That summed up Dax. And she wouldn’t want him any other way.

“Yes, I mean it. Now, carry me to the bedroom and make love to me like you meant every word
you
said.” Stacy took his mouth with the same desperation he had earlier. She couldn’t stop the roll of her hips, but instead of riding his thigh, she was enjoying the friction of Dax’s thick cock through his jeans. That’s another point in the win column for being the same height as him, even temporarily.
Being a short girl has its perks most days, but this, this is fucking nice, too.

Dax freed his mouth to speak, but kept up the dry humping,
thank God.
“I meant every syllable, Stacy. And as much I want to be balls-deep in your luscious body, we do still need to talk. There are a lot of things that need to be said.” The moan that sounded torn from his body was pure bliss to her ears. Talk was cheap, but actions, actions were where it was at. Besides, she knew everything she needed to know to make her choice. The rest mattered, for sure, but it wouldn’t change their budding relationship. She wouldn’t let it. Hell, if she didn’t let the fact he was still married to a woman he hadn’t seen in years bother her, then everything else was pretty much child’s play. “But if you keep doing that, I’m going to say screw it all and throw you down right here on your porch for all and sundry to see.”

Between kisses, they managed to hold somewhat of a conversation. Both were stalling for time to wrap their heads around everything. “Old Ms. Miller would absolutely love that,” Stacy joked while looking over his shoulder, squinting into the dark. Sure enough, there was an aged face peering between the curtains. Stacy waved and the curtain dropped, fluttering back into place. “She’s probably speed-dialing county PD right now to report us for indecent exposure.” They both laughed a little and kissed a lot. “She’s a sweet old lady though, just nosy as hell.”

“That’s small town living at its finest, but we really should move this talk inside.” When Dax tried to disengage from Stacy, she became rabid. Her legs went around his waist like a vice and her arms looped his neck.

“Nu-uh. You are not getting away and this ‘talk’ is definitely moving inside, but fuck first,
then
talk.” Stacy shut down the protest before Dax gave it voice. “I know we need to talk, I get that, I really do, but I need you, Dax. Like I’ve never needed anyone. Secrets can wait. There’s nothing you can tell me that will change my mind. I promise we will talk, but how about an intermission conversation rather than a prologue, what do you say?”

Before he could answer, she snaked one hand between them and around the front of his pants, cupping his balls and base. One squeeze was all it took to elicit a growled, “Fuck,” and spur
Big
Dax into action.

O
ne touch
of her hand and he was putty.
Will it always be like this?
he wondered, as he deposited them both on her bed. Dax came down on top of her, but immediately made to roll over, giving her the control she craved, but she halted him.

“Dax, I don’t want you to be afraid to ever take the lead. I know I’m…overwhelming in the bedroom, but I can be submissive, too. For you, anyway, because you make me feel safe enough to do so.”
And that right there is one more reason I love her.
She was letting herself be vulnerable for him. Dax silently swore he would never make her regret letting him take control. He would not abuse the gift she was giving him. Even as the words left her mouth, she rolled with his motion to end up on top. “However, right now, I want to show you how good it is to suck sometimes.”

That wicked grin did him in,
damn that woman
. It was like she had an owner’s manual for Daxton Magnus Askrsson. “Woman, you are perfect in any room. Overwhelming or submissive, you rock my socks off just by being in the same world with me.” Dax rose up and started shedding his clothes. When he leaned back onto his elbows, he was letting her decide how much control she wanted to relinquish. Stacy tipped forward and placed her lips on his mouth. When she did, he allowed himself to fall back onto the bed so he could wrap her in his arms. As she kissed her way across his face and neck, he stroked her back down to her ass, giving the perfect globes an appreciative squeeze before allowing his hands to slide under the back of her shirt.

There was a moment of appreciation for it was the first time he touched her back without encountering a bra strap. Sounds like a weird thing to appreciate, but he did. By now, Stacy was suckling his nipple and he was lost in the bliss.
How can something so simple feel so damn good?
As Stacy kept making her way south, he noted the feel of her body sliding down his torso. The uneven drag of her chest brought an element of intimacy to this time that was missing the last. There had been a barrier there, like armor, that wasn’t present this time and it felt wonderful not to have it between them. Her shirt was still on, but the prosthesis wasn’t and that was a huge step, because it was a non-verbal declaration of trust in him. Damned if that didn’t make him harder.

Stacy’s quest forced his hands out of the back of her shirt, so he gripped the sheets. He had to hold onto something as she swirled her tongue in his belly button, or his hands would be tangled in her short hair and this joy would come to a premature end.

Dax’s moans became a constant soundtrack. She nibbled his hip as she dragged his jeans down, causing his ass to shoot off the bed. Dax added words of encouragement to the moans and groans already escaping his mouth.

“Fuck woman, are you trying to make me come before you ever wrap those sweet lips around your cock?” Dax knew the instant the word of ownership reached her ears because she paused her oral assault.
Yep, it’s hers, why not be honest about it?
Stacy didn’t stay stunned for long, and for that, Dax was grateful. Before he had a chance to reaffirm that he hadn’t misspoken, her tongue snaked out and tasted the drop of liquid gathered on the head of his cock.

The sound ripped from his throat as she tested the slit was inhuman. If he hadn’t been there when it happened, Dax would’ve sworn that sound would have never come from him. The sensations were overloading his system as she gently nibbled and tasted his length. His skin became too small to contain his massive body.
What the hell?
She had yet to even put his cock in her mouth and he was already courting an orgasm.

“Damn, woman, I can’t ta…” The words died a quick death in his throat. They couldn’t escape, and oxygen couldn’t enter, as she dragged her tongue up the center of his sac and gently sucked one of his aching balls into her scorching mouth. “Aquaman’s chronic wet ass!”

Stacy jerked, releasing him with a wet, popping sound. He hadn’t meant to shout so loud, but damned if the woman didn’t know how to make him scream. One hand reached for her shoulder in an attempt to soothe. “Sorry, it’s just…”

Stacy quieted him with a nip to his inner thigh. “Never apologize for being in the moment with me, ever. I would much rather have you lost to the pleasure I’m giving you than thinking of anything else. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a dick to suck.” Without any more warning than that, she maintained eye contact and swallowed at least six inches of length down her perfect throat. No hesitation or working up to taking that much of him in, she just freaking swallowed it. It wasn’t all of him, but it was enough to give him a pleasure he hadn’t felt before. It was too much, he needed to be inside her sweet pussy, NOW.

He gripped her shoulders in what he was sure was a bruising hold, but Stacy refused to relinquish her prize. Her eyes said hell no, her humming said, “Uh, uh, uh,” and her suction said she was hungry—hungry for him.

“Damn, woman, you know how to suck cock. Yeah, like that, baby. Perfect—” Dax cut himself off with his own moans. Stacy was a master cock whisperer.

“Sweetheart, I’m only human. I’m going to come down your throat if you don’t stop—now.” Her next action left no room for interpretation. She wanted him to do just that. Her right hand, which gripped his cock at the base and worked in tandem with her mouth, started a slight twisting motion timed with her pumping. Her other hand started massaging the sensitive area behind his sac and every so often, teased his hole. There weren’t enough baseball stats and dead puppies in the world to stop the orgasm that was barreling down on him. The tingling, the skin tightening, the…everything. It was all too much.

“God, I love you so much.” And that was all she wrote, Dax watched his words register on her face, as she worked to swallow every single drop of cum he’d just shot down her throat like a cannon.
Really, Dax, you just can’t stop saying it? Smooth.
But he knew it wasn’t a conscious decision, he was just so overwhelmed with the essence of Stacy. If felt like a lie not to tell her again. It may come back to bite him in the ass, but at least he could say he was honest and didn’t hold back with her. Just as she’d demanded.

Stacy recovered from his declaration quicker than he did. Releasing his cock, she slithered up his body and rested her cheek on his shoulder. He enveloped her in his embrace and kissed the top of her head. “That was amazing. Thank you for sharing it with me.” It was cheesy as hell, but it was true, and after that whole
I love you
thing, times two, he was kind of confused.

Dax was at a loss for words and what to say to her. He wouldn’t apologize for living in the moment and sharing that truth. However, he didn’t want her to be uncomfortable or feel she needed to rush and say it back. As much as he knew he would wither away inside if she never said those words to him, it would be ten times worse if she spoke them out of obligation and not because she was so overflowing with love that she couldn’t contain it.
Yeah, Dax, no sky-high expectations there.

Stacy spoke to his chest, not attempting eye contact. That was a clue that his words weren’t
horribly
received, she just wasn’t ready and was trying to process. “Don’t thank me, Dax, I want to share things with you. Lot’s of things.” A moment of silence weighed down the room before she patted his chest and rose from the bed. “Okay, big guy, you take a power nap,” she let the hunger in her gaze shine through as she looked him up and down, “because we are so not done yet.”

As her visual inspection paused on his cock, it twitched in interest.
Yes, a power nap is what I need so I can make love to this stunning woman.
She placed a knee back on the bed, leaned in and gifted him a quick kiss. His mouth chased her as she rose again. “I haven’t showered since this morning, and I am ripe. You…recover, and when I’m done, I’ll actually cook for you. I know, shocking, but I need to fuel that big body of yours so you can fuck me blind.” With that, she disappeared into the bathroom.

Dax knew this was her digesting everything that happened and also retreating a bit. If he had felt she was pulling away, he would have pursued, but he was almost positive she wasn’t. She just needed some time, and he would give it to her. Along with her confusion, tinted with a touch of fear, there was also a pinch of hope, and a dash of giddy.
Yep, she cares for more than just my cock. It might even be love. I mean, shit, she offered to cook for me.
With those happy thoughts, Dax let exhaustion claim him.

W
ith water sluicing
down her body, she let her tears flow. Stacy had given up crying after her brother, Troy, died. Her lifetime supply of tears had been spent by then. When she lost her parents in a horrific fire, she cried for days. When Troy was sexually assaulted, then accused and convicted of the rape he was the victim of, she wept for weeks. When he took his own life in prison because he couldn’t cope with life inside those bars before he was old enough to even buy alcohol, Stacy bawled for months.

Then, one night, she dreamed of Troy—not the broken and depressed young man she had helped raise, but the happy-go-lucky kid who drove her nuts. Dream Troy morphed into the man he never got a chance to be. That man told her she had shed enough tears and that was that.

She was done crying.

When she found out she had cancer, she didn’t cry.

When she went through surgery and chemo, she didn’t weep.

When Hank shattered her world with his deception, she didn’t bawl. Not one fucking tear fell from her eyes.

As a matter of fact, she hadn’t cried again until she met Michael and listened to his own tale of rape, and then became a part of the Reid clan by default. Now, Dax had her tearing up like a pregnant woman watching a Hallmark commercial. But these tears weren’t all for Dax, they were for everything she didn’t cry about but should have over the years.

Stacy stopped fighting them; she let them flow. And with them, the memories of what each one represented. She felt stronger with every saline drop that rolled down her cheeks only to be washed away by the steamy shower. She sat down and stared at the water swirling around the silver disc before giving up the fight and letting the drain whisk it away. She imagined every single tear she shed draining away.

The truths that pelted her as surely as the shower did were staggering. It wasn’t a weakness to cry as she had come to believe. It was giving the past it’s due and robbing it of its power to hinder her future. It was…amazing.

After she had cried for herself, she cried for everyone she knew.
Fuck it, I finally broke the seal on these ducts, so tears all around
, Stacy giggled to herself. She felt like Oprah.
You get a tear, and you get a tear, you all get tears.

As she rose to her feet, a single remaining tear fell. That one, like the handful that preceded it, was for Dax. That man was filled with so much good, it was surreal. The tears she’d shed for him were for everything he’d been through but maintained his open heart, unlike her. The time lost with his daughter, the way he poured a bit of himself into everything he did, the heritage search and his quest to belong to something bigger. The way he felt with his whole being, both the good and the bad. Dax wasn’t afraid of the pain or the pleasure.

The final tear, however, was because he had loved her when she hadn’t even loved herself. Stacy believed she was unlovable, but Dax never did.

With her body dry and her robe in place, she checked her reflection. She saw a stronger, more badass bitch staring back at her than ever before. It wasn’t just the therapeutic crying she’d enjoyed but the love of Dax that made her stronger. Strong enough to love him back. And she did love him back, with the level of intensity she did everything with. “Now, if I can just grow a pair and say it out loud so I don’t cause him more pain.” The disappointed look she witnessed in her own reflection took her breath away. She hoped it wouldn’t be too long because she couldn’t live with herself if she hurt that man any more.

Stacy exited the bathroom and paused to look at his slumbering form on her way to the kitchen to cook.
Her. Cooking for a man. Will miracles never cease?