Not Just Another Romance Novel (13 page)

He tapped his temple. “Smart girl.”

Scott walked in next, and he smiled warmly at Dr. Prestbury as he proceeded to completely ignore me.

“Hey, Scott,” I said, trying to be friendly in greeting.

He glanced in my direction with a half-smile. “Hey.”

Austin and Shannon came in pretty much right behind Scott, and then we got down to business. Scott had finished researching and focusing on his analysis. Austin’s research on goal-setting was proving difficult. Apparently he hadn’t thought far enough ahead with his initial project, and the long-term goals under study wouldn’t be completed until after the final project due date. We all discussed possible solutions, and Dr. Prestbury recommended chatting with Hayden while he was in town. Dr. P was really whoring out his nephew.

Shannon talked about her findings with academic motivation. She’d tweaked her topic to discuss intrinsic motivations based on demographical data, and she’d made clear connections between socio-economic status and motivation. She’d also found that those kids who had strong parental support were more intrinsically motivated to succeed.

And then there was me.

I did my best to curb my excitement about my upcoming date with Dax. As soon as this meeting was over, I’d be heading home to get ready. I talked about finding the dominant, my cheeks burning in embarrassment as I gave some of the less invasive details about my conversation with Sebastian (who I refused to call “master” anywhere outside of my discussions with him).

Dr. Prestbury wrapped up the meeting with a new goal for each of us to accomplish before our next meeting. This week’s theme was “three.” Scott had to finish analyzing three of his case studies. Austin needed to find three athletes who would be willing to set short-term goals to achieve the data he needed. Shannon had to pull three findings and analyze them across the students she studied. And I had to analyze three of my leading men against my list of criteria.

I’d been keeping a basic list of progress after each date, but I was excited to start taking a crack at the actual analysis of my project.

17

I smacked my lips together one last time and double checked the mirror before I opened the door to Dax. I smoothed out the skirt of my dress. I’d chosen a brown dress with an orange chevron design that fit the fall season. We were so far into fall, in fact, that Thanksgiving break was only a few weeks away—which reminded me that I needed to book my flight back home to Vegas.

He was leaning against my doorframe, his eyes cast downward. He looked up from under impossibly long lashes when I opened the door, and those piercing blue eyes branded me to my place. His eyes traveled up my entire body before landing on my own.

He wore jeans and a bright green t-shirt. This shirt was a little more demure than the last few I’d seen him wearing. It had a picture of a penguin and said, “There’s a penguin on my shirt.” The color made his eyes even bluer somehow. He hadn’t shaved since before the last time I’d seen him, and the effect of the overgrown scruff was sexy. He ran his fingers through his hair as he looked me over, and I watched as his hair fell perfectly back into place.

I could smell him from where I stood. The scent had to have been called “Dax Heaven.”

I sighed.

I couldn’t help it.

“Even more beautiful than I remember,” he said, and then he pushed off of the doorway and grabbed me into his arms.

I squealed in delight, and then there was no more squealing as his mouth covered mine.

“Pancakes,” I whimpered, coming up for air. I held onto his biceps for balance, sure that if I let go of him, my knees would buckle and I’d fall right to the ground.

He grinned. “You telling me you need a minute? Or are you telling me you’re hungry?”

I giggled. “Maybe both.”

He chuckled, and I took a deep, steadying breath before I backed away. I grabbed my purse and we headed out the door. His fingers twined through mine as he walked me to his car. “Denny’s okay?”

“Denny’s sounds delicious.”

That same demo album played in his car, and I hummed softly to one of the songs I remembered from our first date. And then I smiled as I realized this was my second real date with a rock star.

And he was all mine for the night.

When we arrived at Denny’s, the hostess showed us to a booth. Instead of sitting across from me, Dax sat next to me. He sat with his legs open, and his knee bumped mine. His stayed there, and a little tingle lit up my chest at the innocent touch.

We both ordered pancakes—because that was why we were there, after all. It was nice being out on a regular date with him. We were past the first date pressure, and we knew each other a little better. An air of anticipation surrounded us. I was excited to be on a date, but more importantly, I was excited to see where the date would end.

But I still hated all of the girls whose heads turned in his direction and whose stares lingered just a little longer than they should have considering he was out with a woman.

I let it go. I’d have to keep that little green streak of jealousy in check when I was with him. The last time I’d allowed it out, I’d ended up crying in an alley behind a bar. This night wasn’t going to end that way.

“Anything else for you two?” our waitress asked after our meal, and we both shook our heads.

“Just the bill,” Dax said, patting his stomach to indicate how full he was.

I giggled and reached over to pat his stomach, too. I felt the hard cuts of muscle under my hands, and even though I was stuffed and couldn’t even think about eating more food, my mouth started watering.

We headed to the front of the restaurant and paid the bill, and then Dax’s fingers linked through mine and the two of us headed toward his car.

“Your place or mine?” he asked suggestively after he started the engine.

After feeling those abs under my fingertips only moments before, I definitely wanted to get him alone.

He leaned toward me before I had a chance to answer. His hand came up to my throat, and his fingers curled around my neck. He pulled me toward him, and his lips came over mine across the console of his car.

God.

I wanted him to just pull me across the damn thing and right onto his lap. While we hadn’t known each other long, the sexual chemistry between us was off the charts.

His tongue worked its way into my mouth, slow and steady like always. He tasted like the sweet syrup he’d poured all over his pancakes. I imagined other parts of his body were equally as sweet as he licked his way through my mouth.

He really was good at this kissing thing. I brought my fingers up and ran them tentatively through his hair. It was soft and thick, and I knew as soon as I let it go, it would fall back into the perfect disarray it always did.

I moaned softly as his hand tightened around my neck, and then he pulled away as suddenly as he’d attacked.

“Do I need to repeat the question?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

I nodded, because my thoughts were scattered everywhere from that explosive kiss.

“Your place or mine?”

“Which one’s closer?”

“Yours.”

“Then mine. Go. Fast. Get there. Now.”

He laughed, threw the car into reverse, and we sped all the way back to my apartment.

When we arrived, Dax pounced. I’d barely shut the door and locked it when he had me up against it. His mouth crashed down to my lips and his tongue brushed slowly against mine. While his kiss still held the same leisurely confidence it always did, this time he paired it with a provocative desperation. His hands dug into my hips, and then one arm came up over my head to rest on the door. He pushed his body into mine, and I knew this was serious business.

Judging from the extremely large bulge I felt against my hip, he was hot for me. I was ready for him.

But the sex scene about to unfurl was nothing like the books. Mainly because I wasn’t as coordinated as the leading female characters in my books clearly were.

“Bedroom?” he asked against my lips. We both knew where this was going. Need pooled in my abdomen.

This was really going to happen. It was probably too soon, but I didn’t care.

I nodded, and he backed up to unpin me from the door.

But I didn’t want him to stop kissing me. I wanted one of those scenes where the woman wraps her legs around the rock star’s waist and he walks her down the hall to her bedroom, tosses her on the bed, and makes sweet love to her for the rest of the night.

I pulled his head back down to mine to kiss him some more, and then I lifted my left leg to hook it around his waist. He realized what I was doing, and he was into it. He backed away from me for just a moment to allow me to jump onto him with my right leg, but instead of jumping onto him like I was supposed to, somehow I completely missed. I landed hard on my right ankle just as it rolled under me.

I heard some snapping noise before I came to a rest on my ass.

“Oh fuck!” I screamed out in pain.

Oh, fuck indeed.

“Shit.” Dax knelt beside me. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

Tears filled my eyes as a sharp pain shot through my ankle. “It really hurts.”

He adjusted himself as he started cursing. “Shit. Shit! What can I do? Shit!”

If I wasn’t in so much pain, his reaction would’ve been comical. But instead, pain continued to shoot through my ankle and up my leg, and I was trying to be strong and hold back the tears threatening to fall. And not only that, but poor Dax was going to have a major case of blue balls.

“Is it swelling?” I asked, my voice small. I was in a good measure of pain, and it wasn’t just my ankle. I had this ache deep and low in my belly that Dax had just been about to alleviate when I pulled off the stupidest sex injury in the history of mankind.

I held my leg up for him to inspect, but it only throbbed as I held it in the air. Dax took my leg in his hands, and I set it down as gently as I could in his lap. He examined it carefully. “Yes, it’s swelling. And it’s also turning purple.”

He pressed his fingers around a bit, and I winced in pain. “Sorry. We need to get it checked.”

“Can we just go in the morning?”

He shrugged. “It’s up to you, sweets, but it’s still early if you want to go tonight.”

I didn’t want to, not really. I wanted to finish what we’d started.

But I also sort of wanted pain meds. My ankle really fucking hurt. Dax asked questions in my kitchen to find the baggies. He filled one with ice and brought it over to me.

I sighed, and then I let the tears fall. Dax held me in his arms while I cried. “I’m sorry,” I sobbed.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked, pressing his lips to my forehead in a sweet gesture that just proved to me how wonderful he really was.

“I ruined our night.”

“Oh, this isn’t going to ruin our night.” He smiled wickedly at me. “We’ll get your ankle checked, get you on some painkillers, and then when we get back here, I’ll make you forget this ever happened.” His fingertips smoothed back my hair from my forehead. His motions were so tender compared to his words, but I fully believed he had the capability of taking away all of the pain.

* * *

Four hours. That’s how long it took from the time Dax carried me in his arms into the emergency room until I was back at home with crutches, a wrap around my ankle, and painkillers infusing my system with this feeling of jelly.

It had been a bit dramatic when he carried me into the ER, but I had to admit I hadn’t minded being in his arms one bit. And the jealous looks I received from women all over the waiting room were almost enough fuel to make my ankle feel better.

Dax had a wonderful bedside manner. He made sure I was always as comfortable as possible while we waited for an open room. He shielded me from seeing the guy who had blood dripping down his face and a kid whose elbow had broken right through his skin. He kept me entertained with stories and jokes, and he even sang to me for a few quiet minutes. His voice was soothing and almost made me forget about the pain. I loved listening to him sing, and it was like my very own private concert. He checked in with reception every half hour, and he just had this way about him where he took care of everything, where he anticipated any possible needs I had before I’d voiced them.

When I’d finally gone back to the doctor, he helped me into a wheelchair. The doctors took some X-rays and determined it was a sprain. They prescribed me Vicodin and told me to stay off of it for the next few days.

“Your place or mine?” he’d joked when we got back into the car. I giggled, wishing we could turn back the clock about four and a half hours.

He drove back to my place, and then he carried me up to my bedroom. He’d gone back down to get the crutches after he’d deposited me on my bed and made sure I was comfortable. When he returned, he pulled off his shirt.

He did it without thinking, like it had already become a habit.

But I’d never had the pleasure of a shirtless Dax Hunter before.

It was better than the Vicodin at taking my mind off of the pain. I wolf whistled. I couldn’t help it. The drugs were making me a little loopy, but hot damn. The guy had muscles stacked in all the right places.

He was utterly beautiful. Hard cuts of muscle created these perfect planes across his smooth and tan skin.

He grinned over at me after my whistle. “Feel free to take yours off, too,” he said, a wolfish grin on his beautiful face.

“Well I’m not sleeping in this dress.” I grabbed the hem to lift it off of me, but Dax stopped me with his hand over mine.

“Just joking, sweets.”

“I’m not. Let’s bang.”

He chuckled and leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. “I think your painkillers are kicking in.”

Since he was so close, I reached around his back and pulled him to me. He resisted. He was really strong—physically, of course, but also sexually. This girl was practically begging him to pounce, and he was being the ultimate gentleman.

“As much as I want to bang you,” he said, emphasizing the word
bang
I’d used, “I think our first time together shouldn’t be when you’re high on painkillers.”

“Fuck the painkillers. Fuck me.”

He laughed as he tucked some hair behind my ear. “You’re adorable.”

“You want me.”

“I won’t deny that. I’d have to be dead not to want you.”

“Then do me.” Was that my voice? I sounded drunk.

Come to think of it, I also felt a little drunk.

A little, a lot. Same thing.

“Are you ready to sleep?” he asked.

I nodded. “As soon as we’re done with all the sex.”

“What do you sleep in?” he asked, ignoring me.

“Naked.”

“Liar.”

I sighed. “That old ratty t-shirt on my dresser.”

“Jesus, Piper. Just a t-shirt and your panties?”

I bit my lip. All the girls in the books did it. It felt strange, though. It wasn’t a normal habit of mine. I was trying to be sexy while I was drugged up on painkillers.