Mama’s Boy by Avery Flynn
Chapter Forty
Fiona
Fionahad been so wrong about Dixon.
She couldn’t explain it. She wasn’t dick drunk. She wasn’t blissed out on happy hormones so much that she couldn’t think. It was like for the first time, she understood. She’d had an orgasmic epiphany.
And it would have freaked her the fuck out if she wasn’t kissing Dixon at the very second the realization hit. The man had skills that made thinking pretty much beyond her at the moment.
He came up on the bed, his body above hers, and she couldn’t stop touching him, running her palms over the hard plane of his chest, tracing the curve of his ass and grabbing ahold when he sank into her, sliding in and filling her up. She moved her hands up his back, feeling his sinewy muscles move as he strained not to. The damn man, he was obsessed with teasing her, she swore to God. Give her a little and then wait until she begged for more. The old Fiona would have waited, not willing to push for what she wanted. Forget that. She wrapped her legs around his hips, locking her ankles so that her heels rested in the cleft of his ass, and lifted her hips, drawing him in deeper and then lowering again. She set the pace and kept to it.
“Fuck, Fiona,” he said, his words strained as he looked down into her eyes. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes.” God, yes.
He let out a sound that was more growl than groan. “Then that’s what you get.”
Bracing his weight on his forearms, he thrust into her as he nipped and kissed his way down her neck, fucking her hard until they were both panting with sweat, making their bodies slick. She was riding high, skating the edge of it being enough and too much. God, it just felt so good, so right that she couldn’t process it all while her whole body felt electric like this, as if anything was possible and that nothing had been more perfect. None of it made sense, but she didn’t care at the moment.
Right now, there was only one thing she wanted. “Dixon.”
“Yeah, baby?” he asked in between kisses along her collarbone.
“Don’t stop,” she said with a groan of pleasure.
He chuckled against her neck as he plunged deeper, giving her his everything. “No way in fucking hell.”
That was all it took, because damn her gullible self, she believed him. Her body believed him. Her heart was beginning to believe him. There was no way that was good, but she shoved the concern aside, focusing instead on the man between her legs, the one kissing her again so that she couldn’t think, couldn’t worry, could only feel as the sensations built, expanding until the pleasure broke into an orgasm that ripped through her as she cried out his name.
She clung to him, her body wrapped around his as he thrust into her, burying himself in her, and came with a harsh groan.
It took a minute for the fog to clear and to come back to herself. Her pulse was still thundering in her ears when Dixon got up and made the short trip to the bathroom. The view was something she didn’t think she’d ever get tired of.
Oh, the outcome would be the same—they weren’t meant for forever—but Dixon wasn’t just some spoiled jerk of a rich guy anymore. He made her laugh. He’d survived brunch with her family. He was standing in the door of her itty-bitty bathroom looking at her like he was seeing her for the first time. It made her belly swerve, and she had to swallow back the urge to tell him yes, anything, whatever.
He rubbed the back of his head with his hand. “Can I stay?”
“Here?” she asked because he was stark naked, and there was totally no way to interpret his request as meaning planet Earth or something.
Oh my God, Fiona. You are such a dork.
He grinned at her. “If it’s where you are.”
She simply nodded because forming words after that was pretty much impossible. Next, it was her turn in the bathroom. By the time she got back out, Dixon was lounging back on her bed, wearing only his boxers and looking like a man who was right at home.
“We’re down to two dates,” she said, maybe more as a reminder to herself than to him.
“Three,” he shot back with a grin that would have been way too smarmy on anyone else. “Today didn’t count. My cousins didn’t plan it.”
“Fine.” She grabbed her robe hanging on the back of her bedroom door and slipped it on. “Three dates.”
The smile on her face was simply because this was fun. That’s all. New Fiona was too smart to make up possibilities that weren’t realistic. She didn’t have daydreams about going to the shore in the summer with him or taking him to go get the first pumpkin spice doughnut in the fall. That’s what she’d done after each not-a-total-disaster date before. She’d learned her lesson. This was for a good time, for Nana, and for testing her New Fiona wings.
She sat down on the corner of the bed, not quite New Fiona enough to just dive right in next to him when she wasn’t in lust overdrive.
“Is the falafel place around the corner any good?” he asked, scooting across the bed, sitting behind her, and pulling her close.
His legs were on either side of hers, his arms wrapped around her middle, and his chin was resting on her shoulder. She didn’t mean to relax back against him; it just sorta happened and she didn’t have it in her to fight it. Weak or smart? Neither? Both?
She shut off the part of her brain that was spiraling and just went with the warm security of being with Dixon. “That place is delicious.”
“If you call in the order, I’ll pick it up.”
Right on cue, her stomach growled. “Sounds like the perfect non-date.”
“Exactly,” he said. “Because I have three more coming, and I want them all.”
She was good with that. What scared her was the idea that she was starting to want more, though.
