Page 51 of Dirty Dix

“And what else?” I press because I know there’s more.

“I also said you have beautiful eyes.” He moves another inch closer.

“You think I’m beautiful?” I gasp, not noticing our knees are touching until my leg is on fire.

“Yes,” he replies without pause. “You’re gorgeous.”

“T-Thanks,” I stammer as I lean forward, my body wanting to be closer to his.

What am I doing? I need to stop this because this is wrong. But why does it feel so right?

Being with Dixon is effortless, and with him, I’m not afraid or shying away from his touch like I am with others.

“I think you’re gorgeous, too.” It’s out before I can stop myself.

Dixon’s eyes widen, and I kick my ass for not putting a lid on my rampant brain. But he doesn’t look troubled by my confession; if anything, he looks highly roused by my honesty. I lower my eyes, embarrassed by my frankness, but he gently places two fingers under my chin and raises my face to meet his. I go willingly, and when I meet his heated stare, a gasp escapes me because he looks as if he’s about to pounce.

However, he remains absolutely still, and I breathlessly anticipate his next move.

His thumb, which is still grasping my chin, begins a slow, torturous journey of my jaw, and as he sashays the tip back and forth over my skin, my mouth parts, and I lick my lower lip. Dixon hungrily follows the movement, and I squirm when I’m rewarded with a lopsided smirk. I’d give anything to know what he’s thinking.

“Sei un angelo,” he whispers, and the smoldering look in his deep blue eyes hint that his words are of tenderness as he softly lets me go.

“What does that mean?” I breathlessly ask, but he shakes his head, not replying.

I’m completely lost in a Dixon bubble, and suddenly, nothing else exists. I know he feels it too, and as he leans forward, painfully slow, wetting his supple, sinful lips, he only stops when our faces are mere inches apart. My breath leaves me in small, winded gasps, and Dixon smirks, knowing what this intimacy is doing to me.

The electricity passing between us has every nerve ending in my body prickling in awareness. My skin hums in pleasure as Dixon raises his finger and, ever so gently, rubs the back of his knuckle down my cheek and across to my parted lips. He’s silently asking for entrance, and damn me, I want him inside.

Opening my mouth wider, Dixon heatedly watches the movement and strokes his finger along the seam of my mouth before finally placing the tip inside. Timidly, I circle the top of his pointer finger with my tongue, and he hisses, which has my insides liquefying.

He watches me slowly tongue him, his eyes blistering, but he never pushes. This is my show as much as it is his, and at this moment, I want to kiss him so bad. I know it’s wrong, and I should be pulling away, but I can’t. I’ve felt this way from the moment I met him.

Dixon softly removes his finger from my mouth and slides it down the center of my bottom lip, no doubt sensing my need. And like the true man he is, he boldly bends forward, ready to claim my mouth as his. However, the deathly whistle fromKill Billchimes loudly, interrupting our moment, and I hastily pull back, nearly giving myself whiplash. My cheeks flame inembarrassment and desire, and I clumsily reach for my cell off the coffee table.

“Shit,” I curse when I see who’s calling me.

Dixon blows out a deep breath as he falls back against the sofa, fisting his hair.

I’m still undecided whether David has the best or worst timing, but I answer the phone on the fifth ring.

“Hey,” I say, my shrill voice sounding unlike me.

“Hey, babe, I missed you. Sorry if I interrupted your studying,” he replies, his warm voice causing a ball of guilt to subside in my stomach.

“Oh, it’s fine,” I say, feeling heated, as I know Dixon is listening to every word.

I can’t do this with him sitting here because it feels so wrong and dirty. David is happily chatting away, and I slowly stand, turning to look at Dixon, who looks half pissed, half aroused—the look suits him. I raise my pointer finger, indicating I’ll only be a minute, and he nods. I excuse myself and duck into my bedroom, taking the first breath since I answered the phone.

“So what do you think?” David asks as I close the door behind me.

“About what?” I counter as I haven’t been listening to a word he’s said.

“About meeting my parents this weekend. They really want to meet you. And I really want you to meet them.”

…Shit.

This is so not good timing. Dixon is in the other room, and not to mention, I was seconds away from kissing him. Now my kind-of boyfriend has just asked me to meet his parents. Oh God, this is too much. I feel a small bout of anxiety creep over me, and I take a seat on the edge of my bed.

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