Page 2 of Wicked Dix

I’m fucked. And not in a good way.

“It’s okay, Tracey. You know it’ll feel good.”

Steadily lifting my head, I’m baffled as to why it sounds like Regan MacNeil fromThe Exorcist, post possession, has just crawled into my office. What I’m confronted with just highlights the kind of week I’ve had.

“Ms. Kibard?” I ask, pulling back in utter confusion when I’m now faced with the eyeless bear instead of Goldie.

The bear dances in front of Goldie’s face, each word enunciated with an improper thrust. “Tracey isn’t here. You’re talking to Johnny now. Do you want to fuck her pussy?”

“Excuse me?” I question the…bear in horror, but also, part humor.

“You heard me. She likes it hard.” The bear gyrates robustly, just to emphasize his point in case I missed the disturbing memo.

I run a hand down my face.

As Johnny the bear details Tracey’s abusive childhood, I sink further and further into my seat. But I listen and pretend to care because I know this will be the only normalcy to my day.

“You can touch her. She wants it.” It appears this bear can not only talk, but he’s also a pimp.

Oh dear God.

I throw my head back in defeat.

What have I done to deserve this? However, it’s not a what but rather a who. And that who totally outplayed a player. She beat me at my own game. A game that I foolishly believed I had mastered.

But now I realize, this entire time, I was the one getting played. I played straight into her hands. And now that my balls are in her court, I’m afraid of what she’ll do to them once it’s her turn to serve.

Walking through the hallway of Madison’s apartment block usually gives me the warm fuzzies.

But tonight, it’s giving me heartburn. I pull at the collar of my white shirt. It feels like hands are squeezing off my air supply the closer I get to Maddy’s front door.

How am I supposed to pull this off? Lying to Maddy’s face is one thing, but lying in front of her parents, with the source of the lie sitting mere inches from me, is something else. My walls are already crumbling, and I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to keep this up.

Pulling it together, I take a deep breath before knocking on her front door. She opens it a second later, and when she does, I feel like an even bigger asshole.

“Dixon,” she gushes, curling a soft lock of hair behind her ear. Her cheeks flush a soft pink, and she nervously nibbles on her tempting lower lip.

If anything has ever looked this sweet, then I don’t remember seeing it.

I was spellbound by Madison Roberts the moment I saw her, and I’m not embarrassed to confess I have been ever since. I came to her rescue after some Neanderthal was manhandling her. I don’t know why I felt the need to intervene, but I’m glad I did.

After I made some god-awful decisions—like screwing Juliet on more than one occasion—I came to my senses and knew that this amazing, beautiful woman was the only woman I wanted. Even when I was “seeing” Juliet, Madison was always on my mind. I just wish I had listened to common sense sooner.

I was happy with friendship, if that was all she could offer, but once I got to know the real her, I knew I needed her more than I needed air to breathe. I’m a lucky son of a bitch that she felt the same way.

Her strengths and weaknesses inspire me to become a better man.

“Madison.” As she continues gnawing on her lip, I step forward and slip my hand around her slender waist. “You look incredible.”

She blushes further, a shade akin to the color of her summer dress. “Thank you.”

“No, thank…” I lean forward and nuzzle her cheek. “You,” I conclude in her ear. A small whimper catches in her throat, and the sound has my alpha dog beating his chest in pride. I love that after everything she’s been through, she trusts me enough to allow this closeness between us.

As I look over her shoulder and see her overnight bag sitting innocently by the door, I can’t help but frown. The sight wouldusually give me the warm and fuzzies, but due to obvious circumstances, I now feel undeserving. And Maddy can sense my shift immediately.

“I just thought I could stay over because your house is closer to my parents’. But I don’t have to. I’m sorry for assuming,” she quickly adds, peering down at her shoes.

“Hey,” I coo, using two fingers to raise her chin. I drown in those big, innocent emerald eyes. “Never apologize for wanting to stay the night. You know you’re always welcome in my home. And bed.”

---