Page 7 of Dax
Then, trying to take on a more friendly tone, I rub my temples and calm myself. There’s no point threatening a dirtbag like this. The only thing he understands is money.
Besides, he’s just the kind of jackass to tape a call and then try and sue me later down the road. I need to try a different tact if I’m gonna get results.
“If you do this for me,” I say, “the slate's clean.”
“Well,” he says, “that changes things.”
“I thought it might,” I sneer, and then looking out the window at a couple walking by, I can’t help but think about Kate.
Their big, bright smiles. The way they’re holding hands. Not a care in the world.
That’s exactly what I want for me and Kate. And I’m not going to let anything stand in my way.
“Just get it done,” I say, “and Martin… don’t let me down.”
5
Kate
“How do I look?”
“Like a million bucks,” Megan says, “and don’t worry, everything’s going to work out fine. I know today’s been kind of tough. But If worst comes to worst you can set up shop in our garage while you look for a place.”
“Thanks, Megan.” I lean over the console in her car and give her a hug. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’ve been an absolute star.”
“It’s nothing,” she says, squeezing my hand gently. “You were there every step of the way when I was starting out at Cupid’s Coffee, and when I had the kids. I’m just repaying the favor. It’s what best friends are for.”
I get out her car and readjust my breasts. Megan’s right, it’s been a long, terrible day. Driving around all over town looking at spaces for my Prints Perfect.
The deadline for my eviction is getting closer and closer, and I don’t know what I’m going to do.
It’s nice of Megan to offer me her garage, but it’s not exactly a permanent salutation. And it couldn’t be at a worse time. It’s wedding season, and the orders are flying in. I’ve sunk all my savings, and then some, into this venture.
“Kate?”
I spin around and watch in awe as Dax makes his way towards me across the parking lot.
He’s wearing a tight-fitting suit. His muscles are perfectly accentuated by his black jacket.
I sneak a peek at the sizable lump in his pants, and I gulp as I imagine what it would be like to have him inside of me.
“You look stunning,” he says, wrapping his arm around me.
I reach up and grab him by the back of the neck. Lowering his face close to mine so I can kiss him.
“What was that for?” he asks with a cheeky grin on his face.
“Nothing,” I tell him. “It’s just… I needed that.”
He pulls me close enough to feel his hardness against my stomach. His hot, minty breath tickles my cheek. My sex lights up as he runs his fingers slowly down the soft material which barely covers my hips.
Taking me by the hand, he leads me into the art gallery.
This is only our second date, but somehow it feels like we’re already a couple.
“Good evening,” a well-to-do middle-aged woman in a low-cut dress saunters up to us and takes Dax by the arm. “I’m so glad you could make it!”
Dax shrugs her off in a way that can only just be considered acceptable polite behavior.
