Page 5 of Irrevocably Mine

Dax hadno intention of breaking up the pair of end tables he’d carved for himself and Stacy, but he needed an excuse to get her over to his place, alone, so he could put his cards on the table. With the ever-shifting dynamics within their little family, he needed to take the shot and see if it hit the target. If not, he needed to move on.Yeah right, like that’s ever going to happen.He couldn’t continue to pine away like a lovesick moron for another year, he just couldn’t. He knew she cared about him, or at least, she would if she gave herself permission to, he just needed to nudge her in the direction he hoped they’d take together.

They had essentially become best friends. He was waffling on whether it was a more appropriate comparison that she was like his guy buddy or he was like her girlfriend. He settled on a perfect mix of the two. When he needed a buddy, either Stacy or John had become his go to pals. And when she needed, or rather, wanted a girlfriend, he was her girl.

Dax had always been tight with Walker, and they still were, but Walker grew closer to his wife and daughter, as he should, and he grew closer to the Roberts siblings. With Stacy, it was a special bond.

With every piece of pizza she scarfed down with abandon, he fell deeper. Every beer she guzzled and belched like a biker, his heart was lost. Every time she looked at him with that serious vibe resonating in her blue eyes that made him think she was on the edge of telling him some secret she kept hidden, she laid claim to him.

It was a major risk. If she didn’t or wouldn’t allow herself to feel for Dax, it could blow-up in a big way and affect a lot of people. The last thing Dax wanted was to cause those he cared about any pain whatsoever, so he had already played it safe for a year.Screw that. Nobody ever got anything great by playing it safe.

Dax was so lost in his thoughts and the clang of the hammer on metal, he let himself be snuck up on. “Knock, knock.” A shiver coursed its way through his body as that sensual voice broke through his internal pep talk.Superman’s kryptonite toe jam, he’d sell his soul to the fucking devil to hear it in the morning, every morning, after a long night of passion. Dax let his mind wonder what it would sound like while she stretched with the grace of a lioness, sporting only a smile and his cotton sheet, which would slip down to her waist as…

Snapping out of his dirty thoughts, he flipped the switch, shutting down the heat source, released his tools to the anvil, and grabbed a towel. Dax turned toward her while he mopped sweat from his body and drank in her beauty before speaking.

“Hey, you. Sorry about that, but I expected you earlier, and when you didn’t show, I figured something came up. Decided to get some stuff done.” Dax turned and tossed the towel onto his workbench, exchanging it for his shirt. As he donned it, he witnessed what he thought was lust, at least he hoped it was, flash across her rosy cheeks before she schooled her features.

“Sorry, but I had some stuff pop up earlier. Couldn’t be helped.” Unsticking herself from the entrance, she stepped tentatively into his forge building. She took in her surroundings with a cataloguing gaze.At least it looks like she appreciates what she sees.“Wow, this is, well, it’s just, wow. John said this was back here, but I’ve never been past your workshop. Interesting,” Stacy said as she made to trail her finger along the hot bricks. Dax grabbed her wrist before she made contact.

“Careful. It’s hotter than Hell. Not as hot as a traditional forge, but still enough to melt your skin.” His touch lingered as he allowed his thumb to gently caress her pulse. It was a rhythm he felt so in-tune with, so much so, he was positive when their bodies joined, they would sync together and it would become the tune he heard from within.Jesus, Dax, how much credit did you get when you traded in your cock for a vagina?

Her baby blues darted to where Dax’s thumb was still sliding lazily back and forth over the silky smooth skin revealed as her loose watch dropped below her wrist. When her tongue darted out to wet her lips, Dax moaned aloud. Lucky for him, she didn’t give any indication that she heard it. If he thought the sight of her pink tongue licking her luscious lips sparked his imagination with the power of a nuclear detonation, he was about to experience a meltdown.

Stacy leaned in to his personal space and placed the hand not held captive flat against his chest. When she peered up at him through her lashes seductively, his jeans shrunk five sizes. “I’m not one to fear the flames. I quite enjoy the heat.”

As soon as the seductive look appeared, Dax was on the verge of dropping to his knees and begging her for everything he wanted. But it disappeared just as quickly and was replaced by that playful snarky demeanor he’d grown to love. This was the first time her seductive look was threaded with a thoughtful sincerity. She patted her hand against his chest and moved away, stating, “But I do thank you for protecting me from the burn.” She turned and pranced toward the door with that twinkle that made his knees weak.

Dax was grateful for this little flirtation. It was common when they weren’t around those in the family who thought he should be with Gus. Not that it meant he was going to get his dick wet,which would be awesome, but seeing it today meant she had dealt with what she felt about his foreknowledge of Gus’ surrogacy. If he wasn’t mistaken, Dax detected a touch of seriousness in the last part of her statement.

“Meet me in the house, I just need to put away a few things first.” His voice came out rough but timid.

“Sure,” she answered before she sauntered out. Dax hated to see her leave, but he loved to watch her go, as the saying went. She was wearing yet another pair of heels that made a man wonder how the spikes would bite when digging into his ass. Or better yet, his shoulders.She really is one of a kind, Dax mused as he tidied up his work area.Most people think she’s a stone-cold bitch, because she knows what she wants and goes for it, but I know better.She was snarky, and yes, at times that came off bitchy, but she wasn’t at all, unless you were facing her in a courtroom. She was funny and beautiful and…I love the hell out of her.

That was the first time he admitted the depth of his feelings to himself and it rocked him back on his heels. Now, he just needed to work on getting her into his life as more than a friend.Lucky for me, I know the first step.Most women will say the way to their heart is humor or honesty or kindness. All those things still applied to Stacy, but first and foremost, the way to her heart was through her sweet pussy. No, she wasn’t shallow, but she was a unicorn in that aspect. Sex was an important part of who she would always be and damn it, he would give her the best night of her life, over and over until she realized she couldn’t live without his cock. Which, lucky for him, was attached, and that made it a package deal.

Stacy was inundatedwith Dax the minute she entered the garage workshop. It was the same way each and every time, she didn’t even have to make it all the way into the house proper to feel Dax’s presence. It not only surrounded her, it entered her—through her lungs with each breath, and through her pores.

To be that invaded by another person was disturbing. She wondered what it would be like in his bedroom—on his sheets, his pillow. It would probably be overwhelming.But you can’t wait to find out, can you?She wasn’t sure if that wasSlutty, Bitchy, Mom Jeans,orPuppieswho posed the question. Usually, their voices were unique enough to tell, even if their words were not. That alone was scary, she had always been distinctive in her internal bat shit crazy dialogue, but everything about this man usurped everything about her.Talk about scary.She promised herself two years, four months, and three days ago to never let anyone take over her life in any way, ever again. And she would fucking stick by that vow, come Hell or high water. Or, criminal exes or sexy tattoo artists, as it were.

Stacy came to an abrupt halt, almost face-planting on an intricately carved…bedside table? Her breath arrested in her lungs as she took in the unbelievable details cut into the polished wood surface. It looked Celtic or Norse or something. Knowing Dax, it was Norse. It definitely had a mythological goddess vibe, all flowing locks and sexuality. The figure in the center of the top practically leapt off the surface and touched Stacy’s soul. The expression on the carvings face was knee-buckling. The figure’s loving gaze drifted right. It was as if her lover was there and the world revolved around him. The goddess had such freedom, to look upon something or someone that way, even someone unseen.

When Stacy’s fingers encountered wood as she stroked the flow of the carvings skirt, she was slightly shocked. For a half a second, she expected to feel satin or silk. When she was finally able to pull her eyes from the face of the,has to be a goddess,she was captured by the interlocking symbols and knots. They framed the entire square surface and ran down the legs continuously, and back up, seemingly unbroken. Stacy stooped to inspect them closer and touched them with awe and reverence.I’ll be damned, it’s one.One continuous line looped and knotted back onto itself.

Walking around it in the same squatted position, she still couldn’t believe her eyes, until at last, after three passes, she came upon a break. The line that seemed to have no beginning definitely had an end…or was it the beginning, after all? There it was, in the right upper corner, coming off interlocking triangles. It was obvious now that she studied it closely; it appeared to have been done on purpose. Dax had made no attempt to taper or hide it, or even connect it by weaving it back onto itself.Why would he do that? He is one hell of a detail-oriented mutha. It was like it flowed right off the table, seemingly to continue through the air. She followed the invisible arc she was sure it took and it lead her to something she had failed to notice until now.

A stained and paint-splattered cloth was dropped over a similar shape as the table she’d just studied, barring it from her view. The splotches appeared to be tacky, fresh. The aroma of cut wood and stain hung in the atmosphere.How did I not notice the smell before?Probably because it was kind of a part of Dax. His uniquely unidentifiable heat smell had underlying notes of it. It had become a comforting scent to Stacy.Whoa, where the hell did that come from? I do not need a man for comfort, as if one could offer it anyway.

As the thought fully formed,Puppiesspoke up.But, you do and he can. He will, don’t you see? He will comfort you until the cows come home and…Sluttyinterrupted,and by comfort, she means fuck you revival style. The kind of sex where you can’t walk for a week because you were up all night praising the Almighty, where he worships at your altar non-stop and you spend more time on your knees than a rehabilitated sinner. A good old-fashion southern revival fuck.

“Jesus, will you get a grip,” Stacy admonished herself aloud. Even the ridiculous notions in her head couldn’t completely rip her attention from what was under that drop cloth. She had to quench her curiosity. Even though the careful placement of the cloth over the object and its unobtrusive location toward the corner indicated it was not intended for viewing, Stacy couldn’t resist, it was a personality flaw. She had to know, and if she were honest, she was drawn to it.

Checking her surroundings to see if she would be halted before she even begin, Stacy took the two steps to the object and pinched the cloth between her fingers. She was ready to rip it off and reveal its secrets, but she paused. She felt it deserved better than that. She was skulking around looking at things she shouldn’t, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do it with a little class. She snorted at the thought.Classy snooping, really Stacy?Releasing her grip of the cloth, she bent and gathered the edge gently and slowly peeled the layer up and over to get a peek at the…

“Wow,” Stacy breathed out and removed the cloth fully, unconsciously bringing it to her nose to inhale. She held it tucked under her chin while she drank in the sight it had hidden.

If she thought the other table was impressive, this one was fucking amazing. It was almost identical to the other one—same knotted multiple lines framing the top and gracing the legs in a continuous line and identical triple interlocking triangles and other symbols she knew nothing about, but was sure held deep meaning.

There were two exceptions that kept the tables from being identical twins. First, the starting or ending point of the lines. This one had the same abrupt halt, but on the upper left corner. The whipping motion of her head was like a spectator at Wimbledon—back and forth from the end of one and the beginning of the other and she realized, if the tables were slid together, where the corners kissed, the line would be truly endless.I could walk around them all day and they would continue to loop back to one another. Fucking amazing.

She released her hold on the cloth with her left hand, but kept it tight in her right, and reached out toward the table top, stopping before contact. The only other difference was the center figure. It was a man…a god? Distinctly Norse, and most certainly a god. He bore that same loving gaze as did the goddess on the other table, but his was shifted left. Stacy’s head was back on a swivel, and she realized that these tables, as awesome as they were individually, would be unbelievable together. Not just as art.

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