Homewrecker (Into the Flames #1) (14 page)

Dixon pulls his thumb away from my clit and drops down against me so no one can see us. Covering my mouth with his hand, I dart my tongue out, tasting myself on his skin, and moan lightly. His hips don’t stop rocking when he starts to whisper to me.

“You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me if you keep that shit up. I’m not stoppin’. I’ll fuck you until we’re both finished so you better figure out how to keep quiet now that people are startin’ to get back.”

Covering my lips with his, he swallows the tiny noises that I can’t seem to control as he rolls his hips into me. With every move, his pelvis hits against my clit until I shatter under him and thankfully he is right there with me when I do.

Once we finally manage to catch our breath and he frees my hands so we can fix our clothes, he pops up a little to makes sure everyone has finally gone upstairs so we can get down without getting caught. Dixon jumps down first, holding and guiding my hips down the side of the truck until my feet are on the floor.

“You OK?”

I nod, afraid that if I open my mouth I’ll moan because I can still feel everything he did to me up there. Grabbing my wrists, he flips them a few times, checking out the marks the suspenders left behind.

“Those should go away in a little bit, and the redness on your neck should be gone in a few minutes, but your ass?” He smiles. “Your ass is another story and you’ll probably need to keep that covered for a while.”

I let my eyes drift close and I think about the feeling of his hand connecting with my skin, letting the feeling wash over me as he kisses me again.

“Now are you willin’ to admit that that was what you came for?” I nod again and smile. “Good, now as much as I would love to keep goin’ because I’m sure I could spend the rest of the day buried inside of you with no problem, you should probably go before we get caught.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I finally manage to mumble. Leaning up on my toes, I press my lips against his cheek before stepping toward the door. “Hey, Dixon,” I turn and look at him again. “What did you buy earlier?”

His face splits with a huge smile and he laughs before backing away. “I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”

When he disappears into the stairwell I finally manage to get my feet to work and make it to my car. My head falls back against the seat, my ass burns with every move I make but I’m so relaxed that I could probably fall asleep here. However, my mind is still racing about what I’m supposed to do.

Yeah… I. Am. Fucked.

Back at the shop, I finish invoices and sales reports for the month and get them put away in the file cabinets. Lynsey doesn’t grill me for details, which is a shock, but the smug look on her face tells me that she doesn’t have to.

The broad really is out of hand sometimes.

Every move of my body has me reliving every minute with Dixon. My muscles are sore and though I feel completely taken over and steam rolled to a point, I feel so sated. I’m calm and reserved when I should be anything but. What I did—what we did—is a betrayal beyond anything Gunnar could ever fathom, but I haven’t quite begun to hate myself for it. Not yet.

That, I’m sure, will come later.

I know Dixon feels the same way because neither of us want to hurt Gunnar. It’s a double edged sword that, either way, we have to swallow. Right now I see no way out of this. The thing is, I don’t think I can stop, even if I wanted to. It’s not that Dixon gives me more than Gunnar does. It’s on a totally different plane. There’s no love like what Gunnar has for me there from Dixon, but he calls to a whole different part of me. I could very easily cut myself in half and pair off each of the pieces that wholeheartedly belong to Gunnar versus the pieces that are splintering off into this new person that craves what Dixon gives me.

Where the hell does that leave me? Feeling selfish and guilty, but also exhilarated. I have a million emotions going through my head. I want to smile and sigh at the realizations I have had today. Then there is that part of me who hates what I’m doing to Gunnar and wants to go hide in the bathroom and cry while washing Dixon from my body. I can smell him on me. If I close my eyes, I can still feel his hands playing my body like he owns it... The way his mouth felt on my skin... His cock.

Have I mentioned that I’m going to hell?

My phone rings on the table beside me, Gunnar’s face flashing up on the screen. Pressing the button, I hold it to my ear. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey,” he breathes, sounding defeated.

“Bad day?” I ask, knowing that he had meetings with Cody Hamilton and his parents this morning, along with the faculty to discuss what happened after the game. This, on top of the police showing up at school with dogs to search the locker rooms and field houses for any more drugs once Cody owned up to using.

“Fuckin’ nightmare,” he replies. “I can’t keep my classes in order because I keep havin’ to run back and forth for meetings and searches. Not to mention they tested the entire team and all the coaching staff. We aren’t even allowed to set foot on the field until everyone comes back clear.”

“I’m so sorry, Gunnar.”

“I’ve got a principal and superintendent so far up my ass right now that if they spit it’s comin’ out of my mouth,” he sighs. “I’ve gotta get Diaz ready to kick in time for this week’s game against Central. After all the shit they talk, I want nothin’ more than my guys decimating them on their own turf.”

“It’s all going to be OK, honey.” I don’t know what more to say than that. He sounds so beaten down. All I can think is that I want to make it better somehow, but there’s nothing I can do there.

“We should’ve never left the lake,” he sighs loudly, blowing out a breath. “Doesn’t matter, it’s not like it would’ve changed anything.” I hear another man’s muffled voice speaking to Gunnar, then what sounds like announcement over the intercom. “Shit, I’ve gotta go. See you at home.”

Placing my phone back on the counter, I greet a couple ladies as they walk into the store and check their IDs. Helping them fill their baskets and answering questions while they giggle, I rack my brain on something to do for Gunnar. Generally the lake or mudding is a go to for us when we need a pick me up, but that’s out of the question tonight.

I have no doubt Gunnar will come home and hide away in the mood he is in. I can’t have that. My always happy and joking husband breaks my heart when he is in a funk. Gunnar is the type of person that when he smiles everyone wants to be around him, you can’t help but be intoxicated by his good moods. Problem is, the same thing goes for the bad ones. His grouchy funks are notorious for ruining your best days.

That’s not happening.

Deciding to make it my mission to put a smile on his face tonight, I grab my phone once Lynsey starts ringing up the ladies’ purchases, and reserve a table at his favorite restaurant.

Once I’m done at work, I hurry home to get ready. Wanting everything perfect for our night out, I take my time curling my hair into loose spirals and pin them back out of my face so that they all cascade down my back. Digging through the closet, I slip into my blue sundress. The short, strapless, lace bodice hugs all my curves and fans out in ruffles hitting just above my knee. Not only is it Gunnar’s favorite, but I always feel sexy in it.

Just as I slip into my black heels, I hear the door slam shut. Stepping out of the bedroom, I make my way up the hallway and see him sitting sag back on the couch in the living room. Covering his face with his arm, he stretches his long legs out and props them onto the coffee table.

“Hi,” I say, leaning against the doorway.

“Hey,” he replies, not moving. “Lost two players today and they’re waiting on inconclusive results on another. How does it look for there to be a team scandal after the first fuckin’ game? I’m lucky they didn’t strip us of the win all-together.”

Unable to stand it any longer, I close the distance between us. Not waiting for him to look at me, I straddle his thighs. Brushing his arm away, I press a soft kiss to his lips. “Everything is going to be fine, baby. You’re a great coach, everyone knows that.” His hands run up my arms and down my back, stopping on my lace covered ass. I freeze.

Gunnar’s fingers run over the fabric, his lip twitches. Opening his eyes, he looks up at me, cupping my face with one hand. “Are you wearin’ this dress because I had a bad day?”

Shaking my head, I brush my lips over his. “I’m wearing this dress because you’re about to have a great night.”

“You don’t have to do that, Kennedy.”

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I smile at him. “Of course I don’t have to, but I am. Go get changed, we’re going to dinner.”

His hand slides into my hair, pulling me closer. “What did I do to deserve you?” he asks, his brown eyes studying me.

The words, even though I know he is being sweet, hurt my heart too. I can’t help feeling a pang of guilt at knowing he doesn’t deserve what I’ve done. Gunnar deserves me to be focused completely on him, on making him smile tonight after such a horrible day.

That’s exactly what he is going to get.

***

By the time Gunnar is changed and we make it across town to the riverfront, The Seafood Company is nearly full, making me glad I booked a reservation for us tonight. With so many people wanting tables overlooking the water, we are stuck in a corner U-shaped booth towards the kitchen, but neither of us seem to mind it much.

After ordering, Gunnar drinks his beer while I sip on lemonade. I joke about work and try to keep the conversation on anything other than the school or football.

“Well look at you two love birds.” The voice causes me to jump in the booth. My eyes fly up and meet Dixon’s steely blue gaze.

“Hey, Dix, what’s up?” Gunnar says before pressing his beer to his lips. “Sorry I cut you short when you called earlier. I didn’t know Kennedy made reservations and I was in a hurry to get dressed.”

“Well, you know Kennedy, always full of surprises.” Dixon glances between us, before walking to my side of the U-shaped booth. “Hey, I know, how about we make this a double date?” he asks, and I take notice of the tiny blonde standing beside him. The non-existent black dress she has on barely covers her essentials. It looks like it was a special in the toddler prostitute department at Sluts R Us. Of course though, these are the types of women Dixon is known for.

The top of her dress is damn near cutting off circulations to her tits. If she breathes deeply, I’m thinking the over-inflated, very fake jugs are going to pop out and the bitch may float away.

That wouldn’t hurt my feelings at all. Even though it is rare for us to meet someone Dixon gets involved with, I hate it. They are usually so self-absorbed and air headed that I am bored out of my fucking mind. I have no desire to spend my night listening to her self-tanning lotion horror stories or how to remove glitter paint from your stilettos in five easy steps.

The thought has me biting back a laugh as Dixon crams himself into the booth beside me, forcing me to scoot around closer to Gunnar. Beneath the table, his hand brushes over my knee, inching higher up my inner thigh before flexing his fingers. “Keep going Kennedy, need to make room for my friend, Ava.”

Are you fucking kidding me?

Dixon keeps moving over in the booth until there is enough room for Ava to sit down, his hand still firmly locked around my thigh. My hand clamps down on his as I glare at him, silently pleading for him to stop. Instead, he carries on a conversation with Gunnar as if it were an ordinary day. What the hell is he doing? He can’t do that here, not now, not in front of Gunnar

He’s trying to cop a feel beneath the table in front of
his
friend and
my
husband. Gunnar leans back in the booth, placing his now empty beer bottle on the edge of the table. Moving my foot, I press the heel of my shoe into the top of Dixon’s sneaker. Hard. I brought Gunnar here tonight because he was upset, how dare Dixon pull a stunt like this and think I would be OK with it.

Hissing out a breath, he clears his throat, clearly in pain. He flexes his fingers again before releasing his grip. Dixon turns his attention to Ava. Sliding an arm behind her in the booth, he pulls her into his side. “Do you know what you’re gettin’, Ally?”

“Ava,” she whines, correcting him. “Remember, we had History together in high school?”

“Right,” Dixon says, shaking his head. “Sorry… Ava…”

“It’s OK, sweetie,” she purrs, running her hand up his arm. “I’m sure it won’t happen again after tonight.”

Looking over at Ava, I smile. “You have nothing to worry about,” I say, knowing that she won’t be around long enough for him to need to remember her name. Dixon isn’t called the Tin Man for nothing. No strings, no feelings, no regrets. The perfect unapologetic asshole and yet she will still expect him to call her tomorrow after he’s showered her off his dick.

And then there is me, who he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to stop fucking. What in the hell am I doing?

When the waiter brings another round of drinks, we are ready to order. Focusing on that, I stop my racing thoughts for a moment. “I’ll have a New York Strip, well done, with a loaded baked potato,” I say, handing him my menu.