Dirty Dix (Hard Love Romance #1) (13 page)

He has every right to be confused. Hell, I’m confused, but this just feels wrong. Juliet’s offer of a random threesome didn’t sit well with me, and neither does the titty twins’ foursome suggestion. It just feels so sleazy and sad. Two thirty-two-year-old men contemplating having a foursome with a couple of horny twins
is
as seedy as it sounds.

“This is what we came here for, right?” Hunter affirms and I nod.

This is indeed why we’re scouting the dark corners, looking for a willing victim to help dull the loneliness for a night. But as fate had it, our “victims” have found us and they come willingly, offering more than we ever expected. But I’m just not feeling it. Both girls are becoming more and more unattractive by the minute, and I’m quite certain if I were to agree to this little proposition, I would be below par in the sack.

“Listen, I’m not stopping you from living out your Hugh Hefner fantasy, but me, I’m pulling out,” I state while Hunter scoffs.

“Yes, you could be pulling out…of Marisa, but you’ve gone soft. You don’t deserve a dick,” he says, but his smirk reveals he respects my decision. “Oh well, your loss, more for me,” he concludes with a detached shrug. His implication of wanting to settle down just got shot to hell.

Before I have time to reply, the girls return and Marisa practically ends up in my lap.

“So, we were thinking,” Mandy says, her freshly painted lips blinding me with their shininess, “you don’t really look too keen at the idea of us all playing together.”

I try not to scoff at how loosely the term is used.

Hunter looks at me over the table and mouths, “Pussy,” but I ignore him and listen to what Mandy has to say.

“But we really like you two, and we still wanted to…play,” she concludes with a grin.

I have no idea what “play” means, but my questions are answered when Marisa slides her hand into my lap and softly rubs over my crotch. I jolt in surprise, grabbing onto the edge of the table for support while Marisa looks at me shyly, her hand now firmly affixed to my cock. Hunter raises a confused brow, so I widen my eyes and lower them to my lap. Thankfully, Hunter gets my facial charades and smirks.

“So, did you wanna play with me?” Mandy huskily asks Hunter, while I’m getting a discreet hand job under the table.

“Abso-fucking-lutely, sweetheart.” He quickly stands, wasting no time as he yanks Mandy out of the booth. “Have fun, Dix,” he says with a wink. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Before I can get a word in edgewise, he’s dragging Mandy downstairs.

Now that leaves me alone with Marisa and my emerging hard-on. My dick is standing at half mast, but a few more gentle strokes and I’ll be at full salute. Her fingers are attentive and slow, and it’s exactly what I need.

As a duo, Mandy and Marisa are downright creepy with the whole finishing each other’s sentences and wanting to fuck the same men. But as a solo act, Marisa is totally doing it for me.

Closing my eyes and leaning my head back against the seat, I allow her total control, and she takes it by unzipping my jeans and walking her fingers into my crotch. I almost always go commando, and now is no exception, so she’s touching my heated flesh the moment she reaches inside. The way her fingers hungrily stroke me and the small hitch to her breath points to the fact she’s as turned on as me. Her grip becomes tighter, and as she increases the speed, my sex-starved body sings in relief as my release is waiting in the wings, anticipating the right move to set me off.

However, the here and now comes down around me, and my eyes pop open when I remember where I am. I’ve come in worse places before, but as glorious as this feels, I really don’t want to be caught out ejaculating in a very public place, where a ton of witnesses would be more than willing to recount my depravity to the
New York Times.

Pulling my hips away slowly, I watch as Marisa turns to look at me, confusion reflected in her aroused blue eyes.

“What’s the matter?” she asks, her plump mouth dipping into a frown.

Leaning forward, I whisper into her ear, “Let’s get out of here. When I come, it’s going to be inside of you. Not in some shitty bar.”

I pull back to gauge her reaction, and by her dilated pupils and quickened breaths, I know she’s all for the idea. Subtly adjusting myself and zipping up my jeans, I slide out of the booth and offer my hand to help Marisa rise.

I lead the way but don’t get very far, as the line to go downstairs is barely moving. Glancing overhead to see what the holdup is, I notice a couple of guys looking over the rail and pointing to something on the dance floor. Out of interest, I casually peer over the ledge, but I suddenly lunge forward to determine if what I’m seeing is actually happening. Marisa’s arm is linked through mine so I drag her with me, but I heed no attention to her complaints, because I’m about five seconds away from losing my shit.

“What is it, Dixon?” I vaguely hear Marisa ask, but I can’t even construct a reply as all my focus is on Madison, who is on the dance floor getting manhandled by Tim.

My feet act before my brain can catch up and I’m charging forward, pushing anyone or anything that stands in my way out of my line of attack. Thankfully, the sea of people part when they see me headed their way, but when Marisa latches onto my bicep to stop my sprint, I spin on my heel, my anger about ready to explode.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the first loose twenty I can find and shove it into her hand. “Here, call yourself a cab.”

“Dixon!” she cries, but I don’t stick around to find out what she has to say.

I charge down the spiral staircase and almost fall down the steps as I take two at a time, my feet moving with unparalleled speed, but I don’t care, because I need to get to Madison. Elbowing my way through the crowd, I push and shove, not caring who’s in my way, and my violence pays off because I get through the horde of people in record time. However, the spot where I last saw Madison is now filled with another couple, and I curse that I’ve lost her.

Blessing my height, I do a quick scan and my eyes zero in on Madison walking toward the exit with the ape on her tail. I’m functioning on autopilot and literally pick up anyone who stands in my way, and after many grunts, curses, and slaps ,I make it outside. Frantically looking from left to right, I see Madison storming away from Tim, yelling at him to leave her alone.

I take off in a quick march. Before I reach them, I hear Madison yell, “You need to stop following me. I told you I’m not interested in you.”

“How do you know you’re not interested in me? You won’t even give me a chance!” he angrily retorts, lunging forward to grab her.

I see the absolute terror contort her features, and that look sends me wild. Madison’s eyes widen when she sees me, which must alert the baboon, because he turns quickly, ready to assess the threat, but I’m quicker and I punch him straight in the jaw.

Madison screams and Tim stumbles backward, but neither is a deterrent and I charge forward, ready for strike two. I land a blow on his cheek and then deliver an upper cut to his chin in quick succession, which snaps his head back with a sickening thud.

Tim shakes his head and wobbles on his feet, my punishing blows obviously rattling his tiny brain, but I don’t stop. I right hook his face with a powerful swing and he ends up staggering backward, wiping the back of his hand against his bleeding lip.

“Dixon, no!” Madison screams, but I ignore her.

“You again!” he slurs when he sees me, his eyes narrowing in rage.

“I’m back to teach you some manners,” I snarl and lunge forward, attempting to knock this son of a bitch down.

He dodges my attack and gets in a lucky jab, connecting with my lip. The metallic taste indicates he’s busted my lip open, but the taste just fuels my rage. We both round off, each watching the other like prey, but Tim isn’t steady on his feet, and I can see his eye is starting to swell.

“I don’t know why you’re fighting for her. She doesn’t even put out,” he spits, his bloodied spittle staining the sidewalk red. “Or maybe she’s finally stopped being a cock tease and given it up.”

His crudeness feeds my anger and I’m about to attack, but Madison literally beats me to the punch as she steps between us and socks the asshole in the nose. He staggers backward, no doubt surprised she actually hit him, and he falls to his ass while Madison yelps, clutching her hand against her chest, hissing in pain.

Her safety overtakes my need to kick this guy’s ass. “Madison, are you okay?” I ask on a rushed breath, reaching out and touching her shoulder.

However, she surprises me as she shrugs out of my grip, appearing to be angry at me.

As she meets my confused gaze, I can see her eyes are filled with tears, but I have a feeling those tears aren’t caused by the pain she’s currently experiencing.

“Let me take a look,” I gently say.

“I’m okay,” she bravely replies, still cradling her wounded hand against her chest.

“Please?” I plead, softly wrapping my fingers around her wrist, coaxing her to let me see.

Thankfully she complies and lowers her hand, making a pained face at the movement.

“Can you make a fist?” I ask, lightly placing my hand around hers and feeling for any breaks.

She does so but whimpers in pain and tries to pull back. I have a firm grip on her, however, and don’t let go. I finish my examination and conclude, “It’s not broken, but it’s definitely sprained. Let’s get you home so you can ice it.”

“You’re bleeding,” she gasps, reaching out and touching my lip with her finger.

Her kind sentiment warms my heart, but I pull out of her touch, as I want to get her hand iced before it swells.

“I’m fine, it’s just a scratch. Let’s just get you home, okay?”

Madison nods. I look over her shoulder at Tim, who is slumped to the floor, too winded to move.

“Nice right hook,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and leading her in the direction of my car.

“Thanks,” she replies, trying to appear calm, but her tiny tremors reveal just how shaken up she is.

I bundle her closer into my side, and when she comes willingly, my body sings at the feeling of being needed by her.

As I feel the first sprinkles of rain paint my cheeks, I curse this atrocious weather. Without warning, the sky suddenly opens up and dumps a torrential downpour in seconds. Madison shrieks while I latch on tighter and quicken our step, as we’re about to drown.

“How far is it?” Madison yells to be heard over the rain, her face turned into my side.

“Three blocks,” I reply, my boots squishing with every step I take.

Madison suddenly places a hand on my bicep and when she squeezes tightly, I stop abruptly, wondering what she’s doing. She quickly reaches down and clumsily slips off her heels, dropping about five inches instantly. She looks up at me, looking like a drowned rat, but she smiles and nods, and then we commence a sprint to my car.

By the time we reach my BMW we are completely saturated, but all I can focus on is getting Madison inside and out of the rain. I practically shove her into the passenger seat when I unlock the door, and then make a mad dash for the driver’s side, slamming the door shut as I leap in.

The moment the engine purrs to life, I reach down and switch on the heating, as I can hear Madison’s teeth chattering. I glance over and see her damp clothes sticking to her body.

“Damn this weather,” I bark, brushing back my wet hair so I can see the congested road.

Just as I’m about to take off, Madison curses. “Shit.”

Looking over, I ask, “What’s the matter?”

She curses again and frantically looks around, lifting her ass off the seat and looking beneath her.

“Darn it, I’ve lost my bag,” she says with a small hiccup, and it’s only now that I’m not livid and can see relatively clearly that I notice she appears a little glassy-eyed.

“Do you remember when you had it last?” I ask, and she shakes her head, her wet hair sticking to her long neck.

Looking out through the windshield, I see the rain has picked up to biblical proportions, but I unbuckle my seatbelt, ready to brace the downpour. However, Madison clutches my forearm, stopping my retreat.

“You can’t go out there. It’s pouring, and this
is
New York. It’s probably already found a new home,” she explains, looking out the window.

“But what about your belongings?”

“It’s okay. I didn’t have much on me. Just my key, some cash, lip balm and gum,” she states and then she unexpectedly hiccups once again.

She appears mortified and quickly covers her mouth.

“Are you drunk?” I query with a smirk, and Madison lowers her face, embarrassed.

“No, not really. Well, I don’t think so,” she replies, the heater blowing her matted hair off her face.

“You don’t think so?” I ask, confused, while rebuckling my seatbelt.

Madison shakes her head and shyly replies, “I’m not a big drinker, so when I do drink, it only takes one or two and I’m pretty much done for the night.”

I indicate and pull out into traffic, knowing getting home is going to be a nightmare.

“Ah, a cheap drunk. Every man’s dream date,” I tease, but zip it when I realize what I just said.

Madison scoffs dryly. “Yeah, well, that’s the problem.”

“What is?”

“It’s the dream date that led me to drink.”

“I’m not following,” I reply, my eyes focused on the road.

The leather creaks as Madison moves, and I wonder if she’s regretting her random disclosure. But she surprises me as she says, “I met David’s parents tonight.”

“Oh?” I question, but I know damn well she met his parents, as I overheard her phone conversation.

“Yeah,” she replies, the heaviness clear in her tone.

“How’d it go?” I attempt to appear casual.

“Great,” she responds with a sigh.

“So, that’s a good thing, right?” I question, my fingers clenching the steering wheel.

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, they were really nice people, and very accepting.”

“But…?”

“But I dunno. They were too nice and too accepting. Oh my God, what is the matter with me?” she cries, slapping her hands over her face.