10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Nothing beats the smell of bacon. I’ve been up since the butt crack of dawn. My hard-on wouldn’t quit. Even though I didn’t want to leave Dax’s comforting embrace, the pain in my cock was becoming unbearable. I don’t think he would appreciate waking up to me whacking one off in the bed next to him. We’re not there yet! After quickly grabbing one of my wrapped presents, I hopped into the shower, had a wank, and then decided to make him breakfast. I still find it hard to believe that he slept in the same bed as me. It felt natural, and I certainly slept better.

The change in the environment was quite drastic for me. Coming from a street on a busy road filled with the sound of sirens and people passing by, it was a shock to experience complete silence while sleeping here. The occasional howl of an animal only heightened the fear that it might crash through the window and attack me. The lack of sleep was finally starting to take its toll on me last night. I was tossing and turning and getting on my own nerves, so I got up to get some warm milk, but Dax practically told me to come lie down with him. That’s my story at least, and I’m sticking to it.

Yes, I could have put on one of his cardigans when my teeth chattered like a lively mariachi band. I won’t admit or deny wearing one and pleasuring myself in it on the first night. But my intention was simply to have a drink and then return to bed. There was an undeniable pull towards him I couldn’t ignore, no matter how much I tried. So, I invaded his personal space. He smelled absolutely divine, too. His naturally warm smell and the hint of teak are fast becoming my favourite scents.

I promise that the only reason I was rubbing up against his back was to get warm. I soon realised that it took little to make Dax give in to my plea to sleep in the same bed. Although I think today he might be back on track with the ‘ deny-Tris-sex ’ train. I’m too cute to be this under-fucked, so I plan on being myself today with a touch of extra flirt.

My outfit for today comprises my baby-blue shorts, which I’m wearing commando because nuts need to breathe, people, and a knitted blue crop top featuring dainty white snowflakes. It was one of my gifts to myself. Now that the Christmas tree is up, I’ve put the rest of my presents underneath it, and I plan to open one every day. It’s unfortunate that Dax doesn’t have any gifts, but I hope he’ll still appreciate mine. Good thing I don’t mind sharing them.

The cabin is now bathed in bright light as the blinds are pulled up, revealing a landscape of glistening snow outside. This morning, I couldn’t help but do a happy dance when I looked outside and realised that Dax couldn’t go home.

Just as I finish dishing up the bacon and eggs, Dax saunters into the living room, clad in his baggy, red cotton PJ bottoms. Damn, he looks even hotter in the morning sun. The warmth of that fuzzy chest kept me comfortable throughout the night.

“Nice shirt,” I smirk as he walks over to me.

His face creases with a frown as he looks down at his bare chest. “Oh um. That’s what I came to ask. Do you know where my T-shirts are? They’re not on the shelf.”

I hold in my smirk and try not to let my mind wander to the thought of sucking on his nips. Additionally, I won’t mention that I hid all his shirts last night, secretly hoping he would spend the rest of his stay shirtless.

Clearing my throat. “I moved them to the bottom drawer ’cause I needed room for my things. I had no idea you would be staying here as well. Sorry,” I hum, giving what I hope is my innocent face.

“Oh, yeah. Makes sense,” he says, scratching his head.

Some people might hesitate or feel ashamed to admit that they think about their crush more than what is considered ‘normal,’ but not me. I’m different! I’ll tell anyone who’ll listen that Dax and his hot-as-fuck cardigans feature in all my sex dreams, and in all my jack-off sessions! Dax is all I think about! He’s got those broad shoulders that would look great flexing when he throws me over them. As his light scruff grows, I can’t help but imagine the red trail marks it would leave on my pale body as he licks me from head to toe. His plump pink lips that I often picture around my cock, swallowing me down as I tug on his messy hair.

The way he carries himself, all proper like the teacher he is, but under his clothes he hides this body that I’m desperate to get my hands on. I just need a little taste of him, then I’ll be able to put him out of my mind. Yeah, right, who am I kidding? I want to burrow inside him and live there forever.

Dax stands there, his eyes scanning me up and down. That’s right, take a good look, and see what you’re missing out on. His eyes go wide when he spots the unmistakable bulge in my shorts. Taking slow steps, I move closer to him, my lower lip caught between my teeth as I fondle myself. He can’t take his eyes off me. Hmm, things are looking up. Screw it, I’m seizing the moment and making my move with him because life is too short. I didn’t earn the title of brat for nothing.

“Eyes up here, Daddy.”

“What?” he splutters and clears his throat, his eyes now looking at me and not my dick, which is a shame. Stopping just in front of him, he stammers, “I... I’m not your daddy, so don’t call me that.”

Oh, he definitely likes that. The rosy hue on his cheeks is evidence enough.

“Mhm, ok. Want me to call you something different? Perhaps… sir?”

My finger traces a path down his chest until it reaches the waistband of his pyjamas, and I can’t help but pop out my bottom lip while locking eyes with him. He swallows hard. Stepping back, he rubs his face. It’s clear that I have an effect on him. I know he wants me, but he’s too stubborn to admit it. I know men. I can read them like a book. He wants to board the Tristan train. Just buy a ticket, hot stuff, and you can hop on and off all day.

The chances of him deciding that we’ll be together forever are about the same odds as him dropping to his knees right now and deep-throating me like he does in my dreams. But I’m nothing if not determined.

I see the pulse in his neck ticking. I’m not sure if it’s working overtime from lust running through him at seeing me in so little or if I’m just stressing him the fuck out. Right now, all I can think about is the way I want to run my tongue along his neck and discover if he tastes as delicious as I imagine. And now I’m rock hard… again.

“I’m, er, just gonna go get changed.” He throws his thumb behind him, then spins on his sock-covered feet and makes a dash for the bedroom.

“Don’t be too long,” I call out. “I made you breakfast. They say the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” Or his butt hole in my case.

Dax is hiding outside. He’s been clearing the snow off the porch. Trying to distract myself, I spend the morning making blueberry muffins and cooking a shepherd’s pie for dinner. I even did some washing, but with nothing left to do, I dumped myself on the couch and I’m currently ogling him through the window. Grunts and the relentless thud of the axe against wood are the only noises breaking the silence.

Dax initially had on a large coat, but it appears he sweated so much that he no longer has it on. I mean, who does he think he is walking around in that 100% Aaron knit cardigan, throwing out pheromones like candy? I had to go have my second wank of the day just so my hard-on would go away.

As I watch him outside, I know round three with my cock is imminent. I can’t be responsible for my libido when he’s doing a Justin Timberlake on me and ‘ bringing sexy back .’ You hear that song and the first thing you wanna do is dance around a pole and slut drop! I’m more than happy to have Dax as my pole. He can be my North Pole. I’ll even wear a Santa hat!

A few hours have gone by, and I’m now officially bored. Since Dax is still outside, I decide to plate up a couple of muffins and bring him a cup of tea. I’m sure he’s trying to turn himself into a snowman out there. He must be freezing. Do we even need that much wood? It seems like he’s making every effort to steer clear of being in this space with me. I have news for him—I’m not going anywhere. I throw on my jacket, boots, and Trixy hat, leaving my legs bare, and head out to bug him.

“Hey! I thought you might be hungry, so I brought you some tea and a snack. Don’t want you wasting away out here,” I joke.

Taking off his gloves, he smiles as he accepts the plate from me and places it on top of the wood storage. Handing over the warm cup, I retrieve my muffin from my pocket while he takes a sip.

“Thank you for this.” The cold air causes his warm breath to turn into smoke.

“I wasn’t sure if you were trying to avoid me.” Trying to flirt with him, I run my finger across my bottom lip, a gesture that never fails to attract guys. It reminds them of how a mouth feels around their cocks. When I release my wet lip, it pops on my top lip. Dax doesn’t seem too impressed, but then he turns and I’m pretty sure he’s fixing himself in his corduroys.

“I’m not avoiding you,” he says, his back still turned. “I’m just keeping busy.”

Frustrated, I realise I’m making zero progress with Dax. He’s like a brick wall, so I silence myself by devouring my muffin, dropping crumbs on my coat. The wheels have come off the track, and Dax has disembarked. Just like that, all the progress I thought I’d made has disappeared into thin air. Maybe this is all just a fruitless endeavour. What could he possibly find interesting in someone like me? The only thing he sees is his son’s friend. A silly kid with a crush.

It started off as a crush, but now I’m questioning whether my feelings for Dax have deepened. This is the first time I’ve ever been so emotionally invested in a guy. There’s just something about him that calls to me on some deeper level.

Looking out at the beautiful snow-covered forest, I tear chunks off the muffin and enjoy the sweet burst of blueberries in my mouth. Once I’m finished, I turn around to find Dax staring at me. This tension between us is off the charts. I can feel it. I don’t care how much he tries to ignore this thing between us; I know he feels it, too. The sparks might be invisible, but they’re there.

There’s a crumb on the side of Dax’s lip, and I can’t help myself as I take a step closer to him, reaching out with my thumb and sliding it into his mouth. He maintains eye contact as he sucks on my thumb. I hold in my gasp as his warm, wet mouth latches on to me. My throbbing erection strains against its restraints, desperate for release. Just as I think he might grab my coat, pull me close and kiss the fuck out of me, he pulls away and picks up his axe like the moment didn’t happen. What the fuck is happening?

In my mind, everything is a chaotic mess, like ingredients in a mixing bowl. Churning, but not quite coming together. I know he wants me as much as I want him. His eyes reveal everything to me. He attempts to conceal it, but the undeniable desire practically emanates from him. I’m not sure why he’s hesitating to take what he wants from me. I refuse to let him see the mix of emotions swirling inside me—confusion, sadness, and anger. Spinning on my heels, I go back inside. Well, screw him. And screw his handsome face and hairy chest and… and…. his cardigan.

He might not want to fuck me, but he can damn well listen to me fuck myself.

Dax is my catnip, one sniff of him and I’m high as a fucking kite, off my tits, up in the clouds. Slamming the front door, I throw my coat on the floor and fling off my boots. Stomping into the bedroom, I open the window just enough that he can hear me, but not enough to freeze my bollocks off.

My shorts are gone, and my cock, with its little curve, stands at attention. Leaving my jumper on, I reach for the lube in the bedside drawer. Sprawled on the bed, I cover my fingers with gel and insert one into my needy hole. “ Ahhhh, fuck yes .” This is what I needed. I continue to finger fuck myself, getting louder and louder till I hear the door slam shut.

Shortly after, in the bedroom doorway, stands the big bad wolf, its chest heaving as he stares at me.

“Do you want to watch, or are you interested in joining me? I’m fine with either option,” I pant.

I playfully taunt him while shamelessly thrusting my fingers in and out. I know he likes what he sees. From my vantage point, I can observe his jaw twitching and his fists tightly clenched. Inside that gorgeous head of his, he is engaged in a fierce internal battle. He wants me. Slowly, I run my tongue along my palm before moving it to my cock, stroking up and down. As his resolve weakens, it’s like watching cracks spread across the body of a fragile porcelain doll.

“All you have to do is come over here, D,” I say, and a faint whimper drifts from the other side of the room. I spread my legs apart before bending my legs towards my head. Now he has a clear view of the goods, my tight hole tempting him like a siren’s call.

It was a step too far, though. He abruptly turns and exits the room, leaving me to hear the front door open, followed by an unearthly scream. I’m worried I broke him, but I don’t stop touching myself. I can’t.

Tris 2, Dax 0.