The alarm sounded on his phone and he motioned for Cap to go in front of him. The dog lumbered up, slobbering and panting the whole way. When they reached the top, Dax was hit with a stink bomb. The air was thick and smelled of rotten eggs. If this were a cartoon, there would be green wavy lines of fumes surrounding him.
He gagged as he covered his mouth with his towel. “Damn, Cap. Did you get into the trash?”
His bulldog had a habit of eating “people food” and then having gas so bad they could seriously have used it as a lethal weapon when he was in the Corps. Cap could clear a village with his toxic ass.
“Come on. Let’s go,” he instructed firmly as he detoured to the back door.
Thankfully Cap did his business quickly and they both headed back inside.
Dax was due at The Plate, the restaurant and bar he co-owned, for their quarterly meeting in twenty minutes and then he had to head to Elite Security, where he worked as a private security specialist. He was due there for debriefing on his assignment that ended last week and also to do a risk assessment on his new assignment. He was going to be on a three-man team with Nate, a tech specialist, and Riley, who would be splitting executive protection duties with him for a politician that was going to be campaigning in the area.
His work at Elite wasn’t a full-time job. He was a contract employee. Dax liked as much variety in his work as he liked in his women. In addition to The Plate he co-owned a bar in New Orleans called Freedom, and he had successfully flipped several residential properties while he’d lived down there. Since moving to Harper’s Crossing, he’d bought the house he was currently renovating and living in. He’d finished the bottom floor, which included an eat-in kitchen, front living space and two bedrooms that were separated by a Jack and Jill bathroom. He was using the larger of those two as the master bedroom. He still had a lot to do on the second story, which held two bedrooms and the upstairs bathroom. Once he finished he’d put it up for sale and move on to his next project.
That was his life. Moving on from one thing to the next. He finished a project and found another one to put his time and energy into. He didn’t get sentimental or stuck. Not in places and sure as hell not to people.
“So why the hell do I feel superglued to her?” he asked as they made their way into the bedroom after Cap had done his business. Cap flopped onto his body pillow in the corner of the bedroom as Dax tossed a pair of jeans, boxer briefs, and a button-up shirt on the bed.
A yawn was the only response he got before his four-legged sidekick closed his eyes and started snoring. Loudly.
“Good talk.” Dax shook his head as he walked past the dog to the bathroom.
He pushed out of his sweats and turned on the shower.
As he waited the few moments it took for the water to heat up, flashes of Ginny kept popping up in his mind like targets in the virtual reality training course that had simulated combat when he was in Special Forces training. It was like that all the time. He’d be planning out the plumbing he needed to do upstairs and out of nowhere her full, red lips would pop up. He would be going over the new menu items they were thinking about adding to the lunch specials and suddenly all he could see were her eyes. He would be making dinner and bam, her long legs would materialize with such detail in his mind’s eye that he wanted to reach out and touch them.
When he stepped into the shower he leaned his hands flat on the tiled wall and dropped his head in order to let the hot stream run over it and down the back of his neck. As the pulsing spray beat down on him, he tried to ignore the fact that he was rock hard thanks to his mental Ginny pop-up book. Getting off when he had places to be wasn’t really his MO, but since he had no desire to walk around with a massive erection for the rest of the day, he figured the best thing to do was to take matters into his own hands.
As he wrapped his fingers around his straining shaft, he stopped trying to forget about Ginny and started concentrating on her instead. His body was already primed as he gripped himself tighter and began stroking up and down. He intentionally relaxed his mind and allowed his imagination to run free and it ran straight to the woman that had inspired his deepest, most intense desires.
Over his thirty years on this earth he’d acquired quite an extensive collection of images and go-to fantasies in his spank bank. They ranged from women and experiences he’d personally had to ones he’d yet to check off his erotic bucket list. In the past, it wasn’t unusual for him to go months, even years without using the same scenario or visuals to get himself off.
But that was before his not-one-night-stand with Ginny. Since then, all of his fantasies had starred one person and one person only. The only variety was what activity they were engaged in and what location they were at.
This morning his one-track mind headed straight to a destination he was all-too familiar with…his couch. In his mind’s eye he saw Ginny sitting in the same place, wearing the same white cotton dress and cowboy boots she had worn in real life. But that is where his memory took a fork in the road onto Fantasy Lane.
Unlike real life, in his fantasy he was boldly able to ask her what she was wearing under her dress.
There was a catch in her breath as she answered, “Nothing.”
With an authoritative tone he instructed roughly, “Show me.”
At his provocative request she licked her lips nervously and her eyes dropped down to her lap as a faint blush rose on her cheeks. His heart hammered beneath his chest as he watched her fingers brush the hem of her dress and begin slowly pulling the fabric up revealing first her creamy thighs, then the sexy flare of her hips and finally the sweet curve of her waist.
Every cell in his body throbbed with pleasure as she paused, bunching the material below her breasts. Her clear blue eyes met his as she crossed her arms and lifted them, tugging the dress up and over her head, releasing the most incredible, full pair of breasts he’d ever seen.
Fantasy Ginny wasn’t lying, she didn’t have anything on beneath her dress. No panties. No bra. She sat before him completely bare, with her arms at her sides and her knees pressed together wearing only her cowboy boots. Her chest rising and falling in a shorter pattern as her breathing grew shallow.
Dax let his gaze roam her naked body. His hungry eyes tracing the swell of her breasts tipped with hard, pink nipples that had his mouth watering with the need to cover them with his lips and suck. To pull them between his teeth and nip with enough pressure to have her body begging for more.
With renewed arousal surging through him he continued his visual journey down past her mounds along her taut stomach and stopped just below her belly button.
“Spread your legs,” he roughly commanded.
She sucked in a startled breath, but did as he asked.
Like a beacon calling him home, her sex glistened between her legs. He let his eyes travel up her seam to the patch of brown curls that sat above her dewy flesh and back down to the base of her entrance.
“Touch yourself,” he gritted out, his voice husky with passion.