Chapter 29 Desiree Dixon

A Girl’s Got Needs, and I’ve Got a Vibrator

I wake with a start as my stomach growls, and I suddenly remember there’s food outside the door that we never got.

It was just after he said the hottest words that have ever been spoken to me that the knock came.

I better never fucking see you wearing someone else’s number ever again.

You’re mine, and I don’t share.

I’m his now, I guess, and, in all honesty, that’s exactly what I wanted to be.

I get it. Things could get awkward and weird. For now, we need to hide this. He’s going to continue to fight against it.

And all that’s fine so long as I find myself lying in his arms once again after he carries me toward the most intense climaxes of my life.

There’s something different about sex with him—something powerful—and I can’t give it up after two nights together. I can’t walk away, and I already know he won’t be able to, either.

Be that as it may, it’s not like I want my dad to find out about us either—which means I also need to keep it from my mom as well.

Back to the food. We had intentions of getting it, but when he dipped his cock down inside me, I was lost.

I am lost. In him.

It’s not like I’ve slept with a ton of guys or anything, but when I have, I’ve been safe. With Asher, though, this animal instinct washed over me that told me it was okay to be a little reckless with him. He is a little reckless, or at least all reports point that way, and I wanted to be that way, too. I wanted to feel every part of him. I wanted nothing between us.

It’s a good thing he pulled out, though. I’ve never been great at consistency when it comes to birth control, which is why I’m not on the pill and opted instead for the shot. And I still have my partner wear a condom to be extra safe, and I know Asher has probably had more partners than the majority of guys I’ve slept with…but I also know he’s a football player, and they have regular physicals, and if he knew it was risky, he wouldn’t’ve pushed inside me.

There’s a trust between us already, maybe because we’ve been in bed together once before and he wore a condom that time, or maybe it’s because I’m the daughter of one of his coaches and he needs to be extra careful because of that.

I get up, and he groans when he feels me get out of bed. I use the bathroom first and pull on my skirt and the Vegas Aces shirt he wore here, and I open the door and find a cart of food and beverages waiting for us.

I pull it in. It’s probably been sitting out there less than a half hour, but time is more of a theory than a reality when I’m with Asher.

He gets up and grabs his shorts when he sees what I’m doing, and I wheel the cart over to the table by the windows. The sky is starting to darken now, but we don’t flip on any lights, opting instead to eat in the slowly darkening room lit only by the blinking lights of the Strip out the window.

He ordered appetizers and vodka, and he pours us each a drink while I dig hungrily into the sliders. He hands me a drink and holds up his glass, so I hold mine up to clink it to his, but I pause while I wait for him to say something.

“What are we toasting to?” I prompt.

“Sex?” he suggests, and I giggle.

“How about to reggae music and backseats?” I raise a challenging brow. I almost said to taking this past two nights, and even though I have a pretty strong suspicion we will, I don’t think he’s ready to acknowledge it yet.

“I mean, that’s basically the same thing.” He taps his glass to mine, and we each take a long, hard swig of the vodka mixed with Sprite.

“Do you think our driver knew what we were doing back there?” I ask.

“Oh, yeah. Totally.”

I shouldn’t ask questions I don’t want an honest answer to.

I cover my eyes with my hand in embarrassment, and he laughs as he puffs his chest out a little. Why is that embarrassing as hell for the woman and a point of pride for the man? It’s a reminder once again that maybe I want to be a little more like Asher.

To that end, I take another sip of my drink, shovel in another slider, and say, “Tell me more about Asher Nash. I’ve had, what, four orgasms by you now, and I feel like all I know about you is that you hate mushrooms.”

“Five,” he clarifies immediately. “Not that we’re keeping track or anything.”

I laugh. “Right. Plus the ones I’ve given myself thinking of you since the last time.”

His eyes darken as he shifts a little in his chair. “You’ve touched yourself thinking about me?”

“It’s been almost four months since the charity ball, and not a single man has held my interest enough to let him see me naked. So, yeah. A girl’s got needs, and I’ve got a vibrator.”

His jaw slackens at the mere thought. “To be clear, I’ve given myself plenty of secret handshakes over the last few months myself.”

“Secret handshake?” I repeat with a laugh, dodging the real question I want to ask regarding whether he’s been with other women since he was with me. “Is that what you call jerking off?”

“Oh, there’s plenty more where that came from.” He wiggles his eyebrows playfully, and I laugh. “But back to this vibrator business. Is that open for spectators?”

“Plural? No.” I press my lips together.

He shakes his head and shoves his thumb into his chest. “Singular. Me.”

“I thought this had to be the last time ,” I point out, tossing his own words right back at him as I throw air quotes around the end of my sentence.

“Right, that,” he says dryly. “I guess I can make an exception. But just one more time.”

“Mm-hmm,” I say, nodding sarcastically. “I need two things before I’ll agree to that.” I chug down the rest of my vodka and tip the bottle over my glass, not bothering to add Sprite to it to dilute the alcohol content.

“Name them.” He grabs the bottle and doesn’t bother pouring it over his ice, instead tipping the bottle right to his lips.

“The time and place,” I say.

“How long are you in town?” he asks.

“Through the game Sunday. I leave Sunday night.”

He nods. “Then every day from now until Sunday that you are available.”

I laugh. “I mean, I do need to spend a little bit of time with my family while I’m here.”

He ignores my words. “Did you bring the vibrator with you, or do I need to provide the toys?”

“It’s at home,” I admit.

He narrows his eyes at me. “You were planning on this happening again, weren’t you?”

“I was hoping.” I lift a shoulder. “The night of the ball was one of the best nights of my life, Asher. And tonight, honestly, it’s a close second.”

He glances at the food on the table before his eyes lift to mine. “Feeling’s mutual.”

My chest warms.

He sets down the piece of fruit in his hand. “I don’t want to fight against this, Des. You said you haven’t been with anybody since the ball…and I haven’t, either. I kissed one girl in Australia, and I felt nothing. I tried, and it was nothing . With you, it’s fucking explosions and electricity when we’re in the same room together. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

He sighs, and my chest does a hell of a lot more than warm at his words. Until he continues forward before I get the chance to tell him that.

“But there are certain lines you don’t cross in this business, and I’m crossing them. I’m running over them and leaving them in the rearview, and I have to be careful. I’m already on thin ice, and your dad is like the one fucking person who believes in me. I still get teased in the locker room about my suspension. People think I’m there because of my brother. Not Coach Dixon, though. I can’t betray him, not when he believes I can be a leader like I want to be, and being here with you right now feels like a huge betrayal.”

“Then we’ll be careful. We’ll get to know each other in secret, and nobody has to know.”

“For now, yeah. Fine. But what happens down the road when this goes to a place neither of us can hide any longer?” His tone is both sincere and hopeful, and it gives me a great measure of joy that he’s thinking that far ahead.

Or maybe, given how quickly our feelings are growing, it’s not really all that far into the future.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” I say a little helplessly. It’s not like me to respond that way. I’m a planner by trade, and I’m a planner in life. My backup plans have backup plans.

But sometimes in life we need to act off the cuff, and this feels like one of those times.

“I don’t know if that’s good enough.” He twists his lips nearly apologetically, and I’m grateful for the near darkness in here since heat presses behind my eyes at his words.

But the truth is that I don’t know if that’s good enough, either.

I don’t want to hide what I have with him. I don’t want to leave in the middle of the night when I’m visiting my parents so they don’t suspect anything. I don’t want to act like a teenager when I’m an adult developing real feelings for somebody.

And yet I also get where he’s coming from. His career is his life, and I’m not here to take away from that. If anything, I want to do whatever I can to support that.

I stand up and walk around the table, and I settle onto his lap. I loop my arms around his neck, and I lean forward and press a soft kiss to his lips as his arms come up around my waist.

He pulls back and leans his forehead to mine, his eyes closed as he draws in a deep breath.

“I can’t stay away from you,” he whispers.

“Then don’t,” I say softly, and he catches my lips with his again. We kiss slowly, languidly, tenderly there for a few minutes as we both try to process what’s happening here between us.

And it’s as he’s kissing me in this hotel room that I think I make my decision about where my future is leading me.