6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

God, I’m excited but nervous that Dax is coming here. The Dax of my dreams. The one who I kissed on Jake’s birthday three years ago. The one who I try to catch on FaceTime when I’m over at Jake’s flat. I’ve been crushing hard on the guy for years, pictured in my fantasies what being with him would look like. How would it feel to be with him? Would it be as good as in my imagination? I want that man so badly. It’s not like I can just casually turn up at Dax’s house and say, ‘I’m horny. Wanna fuck?’

I think back to the first night we met at Jake’s twenty-first. We’d all been drinking and playing Truth or Dare. I took the dare.

“I got a good one,” Jake declared, rubbing his hands together. “You have to kiss the next guy who walks through the door.”

“Lame. What if the guy is old?” I’d complained.

“Tough tits! You took the dare. You have no choice,” John, one of Jake’s uni buddies, hit back.

“Fine,” I grumbled, knocking back my shot. All the guys were whooping and hollering as I got up and made my way closer to the door to await my fate. As the door opened, I held my breath. In walked a sexy DILF wearing a black polo-neck jumper, dark grey slacks, and fancy-looking Italian shoes. His brown hair was a touch messy and had the finest sprinkling of grey in the sideburns. The chocolate brown of his eyes made my butthole flutter as he gave me the once over. He took off his glasses, sliding them into his pants pocket.

Yes, the gods were in my favour. I just hoped he didn’t get me arrested for pouncing on him because there was no way in hell I was gonna pass up a kiss with this fine wine. I literally threw myself at him before he had the chance to turn me away.

Boy, could this guy kiss. My toes curled as I wrapped myself around him. Firm lips opened at the slightest touch of my tongue. Everything around me faded away as I gobbled him up. It was a proper ‘ Meet Cute ,’ just like in films.

When we eventually parted so we could catch our breath, Jake was standing next to us, laughing.

“Hey, Dad. I see you’ve met Tristan!”

Yeah, I’d kissed my best friend’s dad. What a cliché, if it wasn’t for the fact our kiss had been one for the books.

I adjust myself in my shorts as I make my way past the sofa just as the front door swings open, a cold gust of wind swirling around the image of my dreams in a fucking knitted cardigan and a blue blanket around his shoulders like... a cape. Dax .

Standing in the doorway, he paints a stunning picture, with the newly started flurries as a natural backdrop. The scent of pine, fresh air, and the spice I picked up on the first day here that I now recognise as Dax. His cologne must be made of pheromones because it’s calling to me like a cold drink on a hot day. Be still my pulsing balls!

Thank God, I went for my loose-fitting baby-pink shorts and white Christmas crop top that says ‘HO, HO, HOE,’ because Dax is looking all kinds of flustered right now. It’s exactly the effect I wanted to achieve… when I tried on five different outfits while waiting for him to get here.

I take in the man I’ve had many—and I mean many —orgasms over. His knitted cardi buttoned up to his sternum, clinging to his well-built frame, underneath it a white T-shirt, and blue jeans that fit him like a glove. I’m struggling so badly to hold back the whimper that wants to burst free from my body.

“You’re here,” I pant. He must have driven at the speed of light; it’s only been a few hours since I called him.

“Hey, Tristan. Sorry for barging in, but it’s starting to blow up a storm out there. I used my key. I hope that’s okay?”

Kind and considerate. Noted. “It’s your place, so you don’t need to ask to come in,” I smile. In a sexy way, I hope, and not in an ‘ I wanna make sweet love to you all night ’ kind of stare. “Is... is that cape for me?” I squeak and there goes sexy right out the window, needy taking its place instead.

Dax huffs and removes the blanket from around his shoulders, folding it up. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “Stupid idea. I thought it would be cute.”

“You are! I mean, it is. Cute,” I rush out. “Thank you. No one has ever been my hero before.” My fists clench as I try to stop my core memory of just pouncing on him from taking over.

The frown on his face makes me wonder if I’ve upset him by saying that. Or maybe it’s pity? Well, this is awkward. I’ve made him feel uncomfortable in his own cabin.

“So, umm... the bathroom?” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, yes.” Rushing over to the bathroom door, I push it open while Dax closes the front door, his boots thudding on the mat. “I tried to mop up the water the best I could. I left a few towels down in case any more water decided to blast out. It hit me in the face like a pubescent boy when I opened the door earlier.”

A slight smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. “Let me take a look, then I’ll go grab my tools from the shed and see if I can’t fix this.”

I shift in the doorway to let Dax pass, feeling the closeness as his chest grazes mine. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it then. I’ll go do... something in the kitchen.” I say. “Just shout if you need me to do anything.”

Dax acknowledges with a nod and then promptly falls to his knees in front of the cupboard while I cautiously step back. While examining the pipes, he leans in and his shirt and cardi slide up, exposing his sun-kissed lower back. The jeans cling tightly to his butt, offering a subtle view of his crack. It’s all but waving at me with its little red flag. Lick me .

The whimper I had been suppressing finally breaks free, joined by the unmistakable thump of Dax’s head colliding with the cupboard. Oops. It’s time to make a quick retreat before I do any more damage to him.

I’m bored in the kitchen, twiddling my thumbs. While I waited for Dax to arrive, I finished preparing the dinner. The delightful scent of a chicken casserole fills the kitchen as it simmers on low in the oven. The chocolate chip cookies, still warm from the oven, beckon me from the tray. I resist the temptation to pick one up, knowing that they need more time to cool and set in the middle. So, I’m left with nothing to do.

Dax is banging about in the bathroom. I dare not go back in there, as I’m likely to slide my hand down his jeans and fondle his cheeks. Self-control has never been my strong suit, to be honest.

Without a television in this cabin, finding entertainment has been a challenge for the past twenty-four hours; there’s only so much time I can spend jacking off before I make my dick red and raw.

I notice my sad Christmas tree, still leaning against the cabin wall. Walking over to where it’s standing, all six feet of it, I gently graze my fingertips along the sharp, prickly needles, applying pressure to a pine branch to unleash its fragrance as I lean in to take a deep sniff.

“You need a stand and a water bucket for that before it dies,” a deep voice washes over me.

I turn my head so quickly that I almost give myself whiplash. Dax is a hair’s breadth away from me. His cardigan is long gone, and he’s wearing just the white T-shirt that’s now covered in brown smears. His tanned arms are devoid of any tattoos, just a layer of light brown hair.

“ What ?” comes out in a shaky breath. Still as good-looking as I remember. The addition of a few more fine lines enhances his kind, clean-shaven, handsome face.

Gesturing to the tree, he continues, “It’s warm in here with the fire going, so it’s drying out the tree. It needs a stand or a bucket. If you don’t water it soon, you’ll be decorating sticks.” The smile on his face makes me want to reach out and touch it, the tips of my fingers tingling.

“Oh.” It suddenly occurs to me I didn’t pick up anything like that when I bought the tree. I have a strong inclination to go find the tree guy on my way home and confront him with some prickly pine needles for selling me an incomplete tree.

“Don’t worry,” Dax chuckles. “Once I’ve sorted out the pipe, I can sort something.” My hero saves the day again. Fucking swoon .

With Dax so close to me, my words seem to have vanished, leaving me only able to nod my head and nervously lick my lips. I can’t help but notice that Dax attentively follows every movement of my tongue.

His brown eyes flick up to me, knowing he’s been caught. Taking a step back, he croaks, “Can you, er... do me a favour and boil the kettle? The pipe outside has frozen. That’s the cause of the water. It had nowhere to go but up out of the sink. I just need to defrost and cover it so it doesn’t happen again.”

“Hum? What?” I ask, too busy watching Dax’s lips move as he’s talking to me, my brain switching off.

“The kettle? Can you boil it for me while I go take a look outside?” He throws me a puzzled frown.

Dropping the branch I was still holding clears my brain fog. “Yeah, course. I’ll do that now.” Turning to avoid any more stupidness on my part, I make my way to the kitchen, hearing the door close behind me.

Once the kettle boils, I wait a few minutes, straining my ears for any sign of Dax, but all I hear is the crackling of the fire. Deciding to pull my finger out my arse, I try to be of any help, seeing as it was me that dragged him all the way here in the first place. I slip on my red boots by the front door, put on my puffy coat, and grab the kettle.

The moment I open the door, a rush of frigid wind and delicate snowflakes chill my legs to the bone. The weather is far from ideal for wearing shorts, but I have no other option since the only trousers I have were the ones I arrived in. They’re still waiting to be washed, along with the wet towels from today. Guess I’m wearing shorts in the snow.

I hear noise coming from the left, my curiosity leading me to discover Dax crouched in front of the outside pipe, diligently sweeping away fallen leaves from the area with gloved hands.

“Hey!” I call out against the wind.

Dax stands and turns to me, the same frown from earlier on his face. His cheeks are now rosy from the cold, his hair blowing around from the wind that has picked up. “What the hell are you doing out here with nothing on? Are you trying to make yourself sick?” His tone is harsh and hits me at my core. I go from one hundred to zero in a split second, wanting to recoil in on myself. The smile on my face is long gone, and I’m left feeling the loss of it.

Looking down at my slim legs, a fine coating of ginger hair leads down into my boots, and I swear my skin is starting to turn blue. Shifting my gaze over to another set of black boots that don’t belong to me, my eyes slowly trail up jean-covered legs to a thick brown winter coat, finally meeting the concerned eyes of the man acting like a dad. Was I just being scolded as a child or an incompetent adult? Jake’s lucky to have a dad who gives a shit about people, but being yelled at takes me to a dark place. One I don’t want to revisit right now.

“Sorry, I didn’t think,” I murmur quietly. “I just wanted to bring you out the kettle.” Shoving the hot water at him, I turn and make my way back inside. I’m feeling all kinds of stupid, and butt hurt now as I hang up my coat on the pegs near the door. Placing my damp red boots on the floor underneath, I shake off the feeling of embarrassment at being told off.

If I want to wear next to no clothes, I will. It’s taken me a long time to feel comfortable in my body and to wear the clothes I feel most like me in. Granted, wearing them in nearly freezing temperatures was probably not one of my better calls, but that’s beside the point. It was my call to make. All I wanted to do was help. They say no good deed goes unpunished.

After I’ve eaten two of my cookies, I feel a bit better, but I don’t want to fall into the trap of eating too many. Emotional eating is not my friend. So, I transfer the rest to a plate and wrap them up, then check on my casserole and thicken it up with some gravy granules, giving it all a stir and returning it to the oven.

To keep myself busy till Dax comes back in, I lay the table for us both. Mum would be mad if I sent him home on an empty stomach. Not that she would ever know, but I would. She didn’t raise me like that. ‘We share what we have, even if it isn’t much, ’ she used to say.

I smile at the memory as I throw a few more logs on the fire, so it’s nice and warm for when Dax comes back in. Because, unlike him, I’m not an arsehole. I need him to know I might not have the best outside dress choices, but I can look after myself and his cabin.