Page 48 of Big Dix

His hand runs up and down my side, leaving a blazing trail in their wake and after a few minutes, I’m not just warm; I’m hot. My body burns for him.

His lips peck at the corner of my mouth, and I turn into the next peck, and his lips graze mine. I realize that I could never tire of this man’s kiss.

“Mmm,” he murmurs against my mouth, and it’s the hottest sound I’ve ever heard before. I want to record it and play it on a loop whenever I need a little me time.

We kiss, and it grows deeper, hungrier the longer the rain pours down onto the tin roof. I can’t say I love nature with hay digging into my ass, but there’s no place I’d rather be than here with him in this barn at this moment.

He leans into me, and I recline. Holding himself prone, he lifts his muscular legs just enough for me to move my legs up onto the hay bales underneath him. Atticus takes the movement for the invitation that it is.

“You’re beautiful.”

He peppers my neck with kisses, and his hand trails down my side to lift the hem of my shirt up. Atticus pushes up the wet material and over my breasts, exposing me to him. Our eyes lock before he tugs the cup of my bra down. Warm breath teases the taut peak seconds before his mouth latches onto my nipple, and it becomes even more sensitive. Run my fingers through his shorn hair, I moan his name incoherently. I feel drunk on him, my head is spinning, my world is tilting and I’m falling into the unknown as my heart pounds mercilessly in my chest.

“Fuck, Evelyn. Let’s get you out of these wet clothes.”

Atticus pulls my top over my head and tosses it to the barn floor before he pulls my leggings and panties down and off my legs as one. I rise, yanking at his shirt like a madwoman, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the growing pile of clothes. He pulls his wallet out and grabs a condom, placing it in his mouth to hold on to it as he toes his boots off and then pushes his pants down.

“Socks off.” I point and laugh at his white crew socks contrasting his tan legs.

“What, you don’t like the socks?” he mumbles around the condom in his mouth and does a slight turn, sticking out one leg after the other in front of him, pointing his toes, modeling the socks.

I laugh because he is fucking fun and adorable. “Not at the moment, no.”

He pulls the condom from his lips and bows as he says, “Your wish is my command, milady.”

He pulls off the socks, and of course, I watch his abs bunch and his stiff shaft bob with the motion. Who knew watching him take off his socks could be foreplay? Huh.

“Better.” He tears the condom wrapper.

“Much.” Watching him sheath himself, my voice comes out husky with lust.

Atticus comes back over and slides on top of me. His arms find purchase beneath me, and he cradles the back of my head in his hands. He kisses me so passionately, slowly, and sweetly, that I could melt. I’m putty in this man’s arms.

“This might just be my new favorite memory,” he whispers between kisses to my lips.

A fire burns inside me at his words. An inferno like I’ve never felt before. And as the rain pours down around us and lightning streaks the sky, my hearts thunder for Atticus Dixon.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Evelyn

“Go, Big Dix! Gooooo!” I shout, watching him run across the field with the football tucked in his arms.

“Hell yes! Go, Atticus! Yeah!” The girls and I jump and shout when Atticus crosses the goal line, scoring a touchdown in the playoffs.

“Touch. Down!” the announcer shouts over the PA system, and the fans in the stands explode. Atticus just broke the tie with two seconds left on the clock right before halftime.

“Oh, my gosh! You have sex with him!” Glory shouts, and I can’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm.

Beck—who is here with the rest of his band besides Maddox—comes up behind her and whispers something into her ear, and she instantly turns blood red. Definitely something about sex. It’s their thing. Weirdos. Adorable weirdos.

“You need to give him a bonus so he can take me back to that restaurant for the fancy bread,” I shout at Rim, who is across the skybox laughing at us celebrating.

“He has to win the bowl game first, love,” he yells, then turns his attention back to watching Christina’s ass while she jumps up and down with Jen.

We all managed to make it here for the game today, and luckily enough, my bestie bangs the team’s owner, so we get to hang out in this awesome skybox. A few other people were allowed access for whatever reason—a celebrity chef, an internet celebrity, and as the din quiets down, I turn toward the door to find a few more people shuffling in. Probably like me and Beauty of Atrocity’s groupie dates—a hanger on-er here for the free booze and food.

And sonofabitch, if one of the people walking through the door isn’t Anastasia Boyd. And, of course, she is dressed like my twin because we’re both wearing matching Atticus Dixon jerseys. I’m going to guess hers once belonged to him, as well. I’m pretty sure I sustain a mild concussion because my eyes roll so far back into my head from just looking at her.

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