Page 62 of Seven Year Itch
I point toward the trail we walked the other day. “Your boots okay to get a little muddy?”
“Yeah, these are good.” Dakota strides beside me, crunching through the melting snow like this is a normal fucking occurrence, but the tension is palpable.
“So, you really are a full-fledged cat daddy.”
“Yeah. She showed up as a stray on one of our job sites last year, and Trista kind of helped me figure out how to take care of her.”
“And that includes walking her?” She turns to watch me as I make my way through the worn, muddy trail.
“Well, the first couple months I had her, she kept trying to bolt out the front door. She was successful a couple of times, and my brothers and I didn’t particularly enjoy chasing her around the peak.”
Dakota laughs. “Picturing the three of you chasing a cat is a pretty amusing image. I hope Trista took videos.”
“God, I hope she didn’t.” We were a hot fucking mess chasing after her. Milkshake zipped down the hill to the barn and riled up all the chickens. At one point, Luke dove for her, falling into a pile of horse shit while I tried hopping a fence, busting it and my ass in the process. Wyatt just stood there and laughed. Asshole only cares about his goat, Millie.
“Could she run wild? Do you think she’d return home?”
“I don’t have the heart to test it.” I pat Milkshake’s belly in the carrier before giving her paw a little squeeze. “There’s too much wildlife out here that she could get into scraps with. Not worth the risk.”
I feel Dakota’s eyes burning a hole in the side of my face, but I’m trying not to look at her. She looks too good in this golden setting sun with the backdrop of snowcapped pines all around her. Being attracted to her in Mexico was one thing. Entertaining fantasies of her back here in reality is quite another.
What happened in Mexico stays in Mexico, and I need to remember that.
“I want you to come to the sex club with me,” she shouts out, and my boot catches on a tree root. I stumble a bit before I regain my footing. This woman needs to stop blurting her intrusive thoughts out to me or I am going to have a heart attack. Why can’t she just ponder them in her own mind like the rest of us?
“Hear me out,” she rushes, moving to stand in front of me with an excited bounce to her step. “We don’t have to sleep together again or anything. I know Mexico was a one-off. I just want you to be my copilot there, a wingman, a partner in crime. It’s only men that come alone as far as I could tell, and I think if I go with you, it’ll help give me a bit more confidence.”
“Confidence to do what?”
“To explore my options... have some new experiences. Just... be free!”
My heart lurches in my chest. “You still want to do that?”
“Yes,” she replies, her forehead creased in confusion. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I?”
“I guess I thought our night in Mexico would have helped scratch whatever itch you needed scratched.”
Dakota pauses for a moment, her brow pinched tightly between her eyes before she bursts out laughing, causing Milkshake to jump against my chest. Her little paws straighten like pegs, andI have to hug her to calm her down. Dakota buckles over, holding her stomach as her blond hair fans around her face.
“Take it easy, okay? We don’t need your cackling to cause an avalanche.”
She straightens and presses her lips together as she struggles to get control of herself. “Sorry, Calder, but did you really think one night with you would ruin me for other men?”
Kind of, my inner voice says with a surly pout. Maybe if she would have let me fuck her how I wanted to fuck her, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. But no, Miss Control Freak had to take charge and basically force my premature ejaculation.
My dick thickens in my jeans at that memory.Hottest fucking moment I’ve ever had with a woman.Not that I’d tell her that. See? Intrusive thoughts stay inside the brain. Dakota should try that.
What I’d also never tell her is that I wanted a rematch, but she was exhausted and fell asleep too fast afterward. And morning sex is too intimate and would have blurred the lines of a one-night stand too much.
It didn’t stop me from stroking myself in the shower before we flew out, though.
“So like... how many dudes are you wanting to fuck?” I ask, my shoulders tightening at the mere thought as I begin walking again.
“It’s not about quantity, it’s just about experiences,” she says, falling into step with me. “It’s about being comfortable in my own skin. I only had sex with two men before I met Randal. I kind of missed the boat on my slutty twenties, and I guess I want to make up for that now.”
“And you think sex clubs are the best place for that? People who go to sex clubs are really experienced.”
“Exactly,” she says excitedly. “The women in those clubs are so uninhibited. It’s so admirable. And heck, even when you and I were doing it... I felt my confidence growing just because you were so confident. It’s just crazy enough of an idea to work.”
