Irrevocably Mine (Imagine Ink Book 3) (6 page)

“Wha…” He had forgotten all about the tank she insisted stay on, and briefly wondered if she would ever trust him
.
That thought brought a wave of sadness he was unprepared for. He would just have to show her he could not only be trusted with her body, but her heart, as well. Dax was a patient man, where most things were concerned.

Gently, he let his hand drift under her shirt to stroke her soft stomach. She wasn’t fat by any stretch of the imagination; she could stand to gain weight, if anything. She just wasn’t into the muscle building most of the women in his circle were. Honestly, he preferred her just the way she was. His hand drifted around to her beautiful ass, giving a gentle squeeze that caused a reaction from her—one that sounded like desire.

Dax adjusted his body to face hers, and began kissing her neck and nibbling her ear. One of the first things he learned about her during their physical explorations of the night, she loved being nibbled and bitten. Anywhere. Another taste of her collarbone and she sought out his cock with her beautiful pussy. All he had to do was angle his hips and they joined with dual moans.

Before she was fully awake, she was at her most beautiful. Her guard was down for a split second and she was just Stacy—no past, no exes, no worries, just a vibrant woman engaged in something she enjoyed. A breathy, “A perfect way to wake up, Dax,” exited her lips.

Not wanting to read too much into it, Dax tried to let it slide, but he was hard pressed to do so. She was unguarded and aware, that…that was a gift. Dax set a slow but sensual pace and right before she shattered, she became fully awake. “Oh, Dax, fuck me. I could get addicted to this.” With that, he exploded in her body, thankfully dragging her over the edge with him—a dropped hand between them, and a rough pinch doing the trick to draw out her pleasure.

Her words had opened the door for the possibility of more, but he wouldn’t push it. The promise of her potentially wanting him for more than a night was enough. The
I Love You
was poised on his lips as he opened his eyes and peered deep into hers. He swallowed the words when he encountered bank-safe grade steel shutters instead of the peek into her soul he’d seen earlier.

Not only was her guard back up, it was fortified and re-enforced.
Odin’s Nordic cock, she realized she had a vulnerable moment and shut it down quick.
That did not bode well for his chances of getting more than some heated nights out of her. But, he’d settle for what he could get…for now.

Stacy shot up from the bed and started searching, for her underwear, he assumed. As much as he wanted to jump up and toss her back down on that bed, he couldn’t. She was already bolting like a deer that just caught scent of a hunter, and if he threatened her retreat in any way, he would be going backward with her. As she got dressed, she thanked him for a wonderful evening.
Fucking thanked him.
It was all he could do to bite his tongue over that. The iron tang in the back of his throat told him it was in the literal sense.

“…But you know, I’m not a ‘spend the night’ kind of girl. I hope you understand and it doesn’t affect our friendship. I would like to do this again…”

As Stacy went on and on, stumbling over her words, he had a choice to make. Not really, he always knew he’d take any crumb she’d offered him, but damn it all, he wasn’t going to be her chump. Not completely, anyway
. You mean not to her knowledge, chump,
he scolded himself roughly.

Propping up on his elbow, he finally spoke, “Of course, it won’t affect how I feel about you.” He worded it so it wouldn’t be a lie, because it most certainly would impact their friendship, but it wouldn’t stop him from loving her. “However, if you want to do this again, you have to give me something. I won’t be just a booty call, not even for you. At least agree to go out with me. That way, it will be separate from our other current relationship.” Again, he parsed his words carefully.

“You’ve known me for a year now, and how many dates have you seen me go on? I don’t date, I fuck. I know that intimidates most men and makes me seem like a slut, but there it is. You…”

Dax interrupted, “I’m not most men and I know you’re not a slut, but I won’t be just a fuck for you.” For a man who gave up the f-bomb years ago, he sure was dropping them like a B-52. “So, either go out with me at least once, or we go back to the way things were yesterday.”

Following her visual inspection of his body, Dax pushed the sheet down and confidently stroked himself, enjoying the flare of her nostrils and the spark in her eyes. He wasn’t above using what she wanted to get what he wanted. Even if it wasn’t all he wanted, it was a start. Although, he knew if she agreed, it would be because she wanted to, not because he manipulated her. She was most definitely not a woman who would be led by her libido. Dax was just going to remind her of what she stood to gain, physically at least, by agreeing.

When her eyes reached his face, he licked his lips and winked, stroking harder and letting his pleasure reflect in his features. The little intake of breath and shudder that rippled down her body was proof that she wanted him, and he was thrilled.

“Okay, asshat, you win. One date, but I get to choose where we go and what we do?” A devious grin graced her lips before she turned to go. She stopped and looked over her shoulder right before she exited. “And for the record, I wanted to go out with you, so don’t get a big head thinking you won.”

Dax started to pump his cock with vigor, letting his sounds of self-pleasure chase her down the hallway. His voice cut through the air right before the sound of the door opening, “Noted counselor, noted.”

As the door shut, Dax pulled an orgasm from his cock, while his mouth pulled Stacy’s name from his heart.

“
F
uck
! I should’ve left ten minutes ago,” Stacy grumbled to the toaster as she snatched the hot bagel from the top. Haphazardly, she slapped cream cheese on it, and then stuck it in her mouth. Shoving one arm through her suit jacket, while simultaneously grabbing her briefcase and making a mad dash to the door, her mind wandered for the billionth time, back to the reason she was late.

Dax.

Last night and early this morning were rather amazing. So much so, she was unusually tardy for court. Or she might not be, if the traffic gods favored her and every light was green and the right lane open.

Dax
, she thought again.

He was everything she expected and nothing she thought she wanted or could have. Actually, want wasn’t the issue. Of course, she wanted a loving and caring man, a man who not only accepted every aspect of her but reveled in them, in her. One who poured her a glass of wine and rubbed her feet after a long day and who was secure enough in who
he
was as a man to understand she was a strong woman and didn’t need a hero to save the day, but could still enjoy the rescue once in awhile.

In her world, she had to be kind of a cold-hearted bitch to make it. She was swimming with sharks on the daily and they would see chum in the water if you were anything less as a woman. Some of the assholes even made jokes about bleeders in the water—bleeders being women and the water being the courtroom. Stacy knew not to let that shit get to her, or at least, not to let them know it could. It took years, but she finally got to a place where she could slip that mask off and on at will, and it wasn’t just in appearance. When she was in the zone, she was a heartless bitch and she was fan-fucking-tastic at her job.

She had earned the respect of her colleagues through her hard work and dedication, especially through her advocacy of male victims of sexual assault. Professional men didn’t admit it aloud, but it carried weight with them. They admired her, and she’d had the world by the balls, until she put her trust in the wrong man.

The darkness of the past descended on her like a swarm of locusts, chipping away the warm fuzzies she was feeling about Dax. And just like that, the Dax voice that whispered dreamily through her head was replaced with Hank’s grating across her brain like nails on a chalkboard. He had destroyed so much with what would be considered a small-time crime by most. But what people didn’t understand was everything that surrounded his little B & E and assault. She had been in love, or at least skipping down the path toward it. He practically lived at her house—had a toothbrush and a drawer. That’s a pretty big deal in a woman’s world. Then, everything started to unravel.

At first, it was little things, ones Stacy wrote off as paranoia. After all, she was suspicious by nature.
Comes with passing the bar
. What made her madder than hell, was for some ungodly reason, when she looked back at those times, before she knew the depth of his deception, she did so a little fondly.
How fucked up is that?
Knowing everything now, she still saw some good times.
Certifiable.
She’d thought Hank was perfect, at the time. He was sweet, romantic, and didn’t mind her mildly aggressive nature in the bedroom, but also indulged in her more submissive and conventional fantasies…in the beginning. Attentive was the word she was looking for.

And his arrival was kismet. It was a time in her life when she really needed someone to lean on. It was her first real relationship, AC, after cancer, and she was embroiled in a case that had blown up to epic proportions and taken on a life of its own.

And with all that shit going on, Hank was just, there. At the time, it had seemed like a chance meeting at a coffee truck in the middle of winter. Looking back now, she should have known it wasn’t a chance meeting. He had bumped into her and become so befuddled, and she spilled her coffee but got lost in his smile. He was everything that was missing in her life, and before he showed his true colors, she was even thinking the M word.

That pretty much set the tone for the rest of the relationship—Hank always had a motive, and she always missed the clues.
So obvious now.
Things out of place, or just not quite right. Nights when she’d reach for him but he wasn’t there, yet she was too groggy to get up and find him. An almost obsessive level of curiosity about her case, so on and so on. Lucky for her, the case was moving swiftly and it caused him to take further action.

Lucky is not the word I would use about any of that shit, actually.

The biggest betrayal of all, no one knew but her and Hank. She never mentioned it in court, nor to anyone. Hell, she never mentioned to Hank that she even knew, but she did, and it changed so much more about her than even all the other bullshit.

A knock on her driver’s side window nearly had her wetting her fucking skirt, but ripped her from her little trip down Fucked-Up-Memory Lane, which usually preceded her descent into a place that sent her straight to Jose and a guy named who the fuck cares.

The face looming in the glass was a friendly one, so she pulled up her big girl undies, grabbed her stuff, and opened the door. “Hi Gus, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry, but I was crossing the street when I saw you park, and when I crossed back, you were still sitting here, so I was worried. Is everything okay?” The look of concern was so genuine, Stacy was almost tempted to spill…almost. Stacy wasn’t a “girl time” kind of woman. She didn’t do late night ice cream binges while sharing secrets. No crying and calling for the head of some asshole who did her wrong. She was most certainly not a member of the Uterine Solidarity Club. That was not Stacy. Never had been and never would be.

“Of course, buttercup, I’m peachy.”
Well, that came off a little more snarky than I intended.
“Sorry, running late today, so, my bitchy side is in full glory, you know how it is? You’re having a bad day so you intend to go twenty-five percent, max. A nice respectable, but with an edge, mild bitch level, but then some asshole pulls out in front of you in a tractor in a no passing zone, and before you know it, you’ve done went full bitch. And believe me, you never want to go full bitch before nine a.m.”

The laugh they shared felt good. That was her intention, to cut some of the tension from the other day and by her own snippy tongue. Maybe one day, she could just dip a toe in the Uterine Solidarity Club pool, just to test it out. “So, what brings you down to the county courthouse without your resident legal counsel?”

“Andy? He and Marco are across the street already. We were just up here filing some paperwork. We popped over for coffee. Well, they did, I am relegated to tea. Nice boring, decaffeinated tea.” She rubbed her belly lovingly as she faux complained. “I left my phone in one of the boxes by the metal detector, so… Sometimes, I swear I’d lose my head if it weren’t attached. This pregnancy has turned me from mildly forgetful to full-on flake.” Gus’s attention turned from her barely-there belly back to Stacy. “I see what you mean about late. Did you eat in the car or just crumble your toast on your top?”

A delicate hand reached out and brushed the bagel crumbs off Stacy, which she was grateful for. Her hands were full and she wouldn’t have passed a mirror before appearing in front of a judge with the remnants of her breakfast.

“Thanks for the save. That would have been embarrassing. Look, I’m late and gotta run, but if you’re free later, I‘d really like to have a chat, if you’re up for it?” Unidentified emotions crossed Gus’s face and left something painful and sad in their wake.

“That’s kinda the second reason I wanted to check on you. I think a chat is in order and I need your advice on something, so, um, yeah, that’d be awesome if we could get together.”

Stepping away, Stacy firmed up their plans. “Okay, how does seven, your place, sound? I’ll bring you your tofu vegan pizza and a full-on heart attack one for me.” At Gus’s nod, she continued down the walk, and up the steps before turning back. “By the way, breakfast was a bagel, not toast, buttercup. Oh, and this advice you’re in need of, if it’s legal, I’m not cheap, but I’ll give you the friends and family discount.” With a wink and a lighter heart, she turned to face the door.

Maybe this whole being normal thing could be for her. A hot man, loyal friends, and sense of belonging.
Yep, maybe it could be.

She spared a quick look at Gus crossing the street, and as her head swiveled back to the door, she caught the reflection of a figure on the opposite corner that transmuted her spinal fluid to ice crystals.

Hank.

Blinking and shaking her head, she refocused, but the man was gone. Convincing herself there was no fucking way, Stacy took a deep breath and entered the courthouse. Bypassing the metal detector via the private entrance, as usual, she greeted the all-too-familiar uniformed security guard, Fred, with their typical morning salutation.

W
aking
up without Stacy after last night was bittersweet. He’d awakened long enough to say goodbye, jerk off, and watch her leave, before returning to dreamland. He lay there wondering how content he’d feel to simply roll over and kiss her awake on her sleep-warmed cheek every morning. The thought of exploring her mouth to start the day was naturally where his mind would’ve gone if she had remained in his bed. That, and more. But something told him she would turn away. Probably with a squeal and a, “Ew, no. Dragon breath.” Funny how even his thoughts had adjusted to what he felt she’d want instead of his natural inclination of kissing her or waxing his beard first thing in the morning. “Man, I’m a goner,” he screamed to the empty room and chuckled.

Of course, for it to play out his way, he’d have to get her to stay for more than a fuck, or five. He wanted Stacy in every corner of his life and he had to be honest with himself, he wouldn’t settle for half of her. He would play along for a while in an effort to win her over to the idea of more, but if his progress stalled, he’d have to throw in the towel. Not that he was the type to give up, but he wouldn’t be just her fuck buddy, not for long, anyway. Granted, she had promised more than one night, but it was still just sex for her.

Not that sex was a bad thing. Shit, it was the opposite, in fact. And sex with her was cataclysmic. He always knew it would be that way when he was truly in love—deeply and madly in love, not just the youthful blush that turns you inside out with no purpose beyond that—the lasting love that not only turns you inside out, it does so with the purpose of inventorying your bones and marking them as owned.

Realizing how deep his feelings for Stacy ran made him think of Sam for a brief moment. They’d been like a hair band power ballad, struggling but making it for the sake of love. It didn’t take long for both of them to realize the love they shared, while genuine, wasn’t the kind marriages were built upon. Friendships, yes, but happy families, not so much.

They weren’t exactly unhappy, they were just, eh. Or so he thought, until the day his classes ended early to prep for the category 4 that was headed into the gulf. He always thought the sight of his life crumbling down around him would be more menacing, more, strike fear in his heart before it stopped kind of thing, but nah. Unless you consider a ‘79 Monte menacing, which no one ever has.

The car parked in front of the trailer they called home, coupled with the tell-tale rocking motion of the trailer, left no question what was happening. His lack of piss and vinegar about the whole situation proved their love wasn’t like that. He picked up his daughter from preschool and called Sam to let her know they were hunkered down at his mom’s.

Sadly, those few days were the last time he shared anything real with his mom. She let the drugs take over and stayed in that dark place for years.

He never mentioned the Monte to anyone, not even Sam. They continued on that way for four more years. Four more sexless years. As hungry as he was for adult companionship, he never cheated, not even in getting close to another woman and confiding. To him, that was more intimate than sex. Sex was an action where you shared physical pleasure, but opening up to someone was a connection that didn’t end when you put your pants on.