DAX

Big Hot Alphas Book 1

KATE HUNT

Copyright © 2020 by Kate Hunt

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any

electronic or mechanical means, including information storage

and retrieval systems, without written permission from the

author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses,

places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of

the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any

resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events

is purely coincidental.

CONTENTS

1.

Bailey

2.

Dax

3.

Bailey

4.

Dax

5.

Bailey

6.

Dax

7.

Bailey

8.

Epilogue – Dax

9.

Epilogue – Bailey

About the Author

Chapter One

M

BAILEY

y hands instantly tighten on the steering

wheel and my heart skips a beat when I

see the sign on the side of the highway announcing

how many miles are left until my exit.

Shit. I thought I was going to be able to not

think about him.

But I guess I should have known there’s no

avoiding it.

I’ve been driving on the highway for the last

three hours, and I only have about ten miles left to

get to my parents’ house. It’s the second time I’ve

driven up to see them since they moved into their

new place.

A few months back, they sold the apartment

building they’d owned for decades and bought a

beautiful piece of property up on the mountain.

They’ve always been such hard workers, and I’m

so proud of them for being able to retire early and

just focus on enjoying their lives now.

And don’t get me wrong, I’m excited to see

them. I can’t wait for the big hug I know I’ll get

from my dad and I can’t wait to eat my mom’s

amazing home cooking.

No, what’s making me nervous is…

…well, it’s Dax.

He’s my parents’ closest neighbor.

He’s also their new friend.

And he’s the man I have a huge crush on.

A

LL

OF

THIS

started four weeks ago—the first time

I visited my parents’ new place. We’d just finished

eating dinner and were sitting out on the back patio

around the fire pit. It was a beautiful night—the

stars were out, and it wasn’t too cold. My mom and

I had brought our wine glasses outside with us, and

my dad had brought his glass of whiskey.

We were in the middle of talking about the sale

of my parents’ old house when I heard someone

call out in the distance.

“Bear!” the voice boomed.

My eyes snapped over to my dad. “Um…

should we go inside?”

But my dad just chuckled and shook his head.

“Bear is our neighbor’s dog.”

Sure enough, a second later, a big scruffy dog

burst out from the woods behind my parents’ house.

He came right over to the patio and panted happily

as he greeted us. I laughed at how ridiculously

sweet the big guy was and gave him a good scratch

behind his ears when he came up to me.

“Bear!” the voice called out again.

“He’s over here, Dax!” my dad called back.

Heavy footsteps grew louder from the woods.

Then a figure emerged, striding from the darkness

into the soft glow of the light cast from the house.

As he came closer, I found myself drawing in a

deep breath.

I’d always thought my dad would be the most

burly guy I’d ever know. But this man—holy shit.

He was the biggest, most built man I’d ever seen in

my life. He looked like a freakin’ Greek god.

“Sorry ’bout that,” he said as he approached us.

He looked at his dog, who was now getting his head

scratched by my mom, and shook his head. “Bear.

Come on, man.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” my mom said, smiling as she

continued to pet the dog. “We love Bear. Oh, Dax,

this is our daughter, Bailey. Bailey, this is our

neighbor, Dax.”

Dax’s eyes were already focused on me before

my mom even started to introduce us. As my eyes

met his, butterflies burst into flight in my stomach.

“Dax is our woodworking neighbor,” my mom

explained.

“Oh,” I said, my voice sounding tiny and high.

My parents had mentioned their neighbors over

dinner, telling me how an older couple lived on one

side of them, and on the other lived a single guy in

his late thirties. They’d told me he was a

woodworker and that they’d already become

friendly with him, but they hadn’t described Dax

enough for me to picture him.

“Join us, Dax,” my mom said, gesturing toward

an empty patio chair on the other side of me.

Dax rubbed his chin. His eyes were still locked

on me. The butterflies were still going crazy in my

stomach.

How could a man like this even exist?

Don’t go, I found myself thinking. Stay.

As Dax walked around the fire pit and sat down

in the chair a few feet away from me, I had to focus

on keeping my breathing even. No man had ever

had that kind of effect on me before, and it was

overwhelming.

“Can I get you something to drink, Dax?” my

mom asked.

“I’m good,” he said. “Thanks, Alice.”

During the next hour of conversation, Dax

didn’t say a whole lot. But when he did speak, his

words always felt meaningful and carefully chosen.

And every time I said something, I could feel Dax’s

gaze on me—I could feel his interest, his desire.

I could feel his claim on me already.

After another little while, my dad let out a deep

yawn. As he pulled himself up from his chair, he

said, “Think I’m going to hit the hay. Good seeing

you, Dax.”

“You too, Ian.”

“Night, Dad,” I said, standing up to give him a

peck on the cheek.

“Don’t stay up too late,” he said, giving me a

smile.

“I won’t.”

As my dad left and I sat back down, I wondered

how much longer the night would last. I didn’t want

it to ever end.

Twenty minutes later, though, my mom started

fighting back yawns herself.

“Oh, gosh,” my mom said. “I’m sorry. I can’t

seem to keep my eyes open any longer. Would it be

horribly rude of me to turn in for the night, too?”

“Of course not, Mom,” I said, my heart rate

picking up at the thought of being left alone with

Dax. “I’ll make sure the fire’s out before I come

in.”

My mom nodded, said goodnight, and went into

the house.

And then it was just the two of us. Or three of

us, I guess, if you count Bear.

“Want me to add another log?” Dax asked,

gesturing toward the dying fire.

I looked over at him and smiled. “Sure.”

How do I describe the conversation we had that

night? It felt like a million conversations rolled into

one. Though Dax hadn’t said much when we’d all

been sitting there, once it was just the two of us,

words started to flow more easily from his lips.

I can’t even say how long we sat out there; it

was like time didn’t even matter anymore.

While we talked, Bear slept soundly on his side

by the fire pit. The stars above us shone. And

somehow our chairs felt like they’d moved closer

together; Dax was so close that I could’ve reached

out and touch his incredibly chiseled, strong body if

I wanted to.

And did I ever want to.

He was the one who made the first move,

though. He was the one who leaned across the

small space between us and pulled me toward him

for a kiss.

When his lips claimed mine, I felt it through my

entire body—every inch of me turned weak. And

then my whole body flushed as his tongue urged my

mouth open and our kiss deepened.

It was a long kiss. And yet not long enough.

Because when it ended, I immediately wanted

more. A whimper escaped my lips.

“Do that again,” I murmured.

But Dax shook his head. “It’s time for us to say

goodnight.”

He stood up from his chair, his incredible size

unfolding. I gaped at him, speechless, the sensation

of his kiss lingering on my lips.

“You’re leaving?” I said.

“Yes,” he said. “And you’re going to go inside.”

I smirked. “What if I don’t want to go inside

yet?”

Dax’s jaw tightened. “We can’t do this, Bailey.”

“Why not?”

“If I kiss you again, I won’t be able to stop.”

And then he clicked his tongue to rouse Bear

from his slumber, and that was that. Dax glanced

over at me just once more to say goodnight, and

then he and Bear were disappearing into the

darkness.

I didn’t see Dax again that weekend. And I

didn’t breathe a word to my parents about what had

happened. But the memory of Dax’s kiss stayed

with me; even as I drove home that Sunday night, I

could still feel his kiss on my lips, as if it had just

happened.

I’d never had a kiss like that in my life.

It was the stuff fairy tales were made of.

When I got home, I had to tell someone about

it, and naturally, I turned to Madison. Madison and

I met four years ago when we both started

waitressing at the café; we’d been best friends ever

since.

“That’s amazing, babe,” said Madison, grinning

from ear to ear. “You totally just met your

soulmate.”

I scoffed. Told her she was crazy. But deep

down, I had to admit—I’d been thinking the same

thing. And not just because of the kiss. My

conversation with Dax had been incredible. I’d felt

so deeply connected to him.

There was no way that Dax was actually my

soulmate, though. He was too old for me. He was

my parents’ friend. And he lived on a freakin’

mountain over three hours away—how was that

going to work?

Nah. Our connection didn’t mean we were

meant to end up together or anything.

It was just one of those crazy one-time things.

M

Y

MOM

IS

KNEELING

in front of a patch of bare

soil planting flowers when I pull up to the house. As

I get out of the car, she stands up and calls out

hello. She looks so cute in her gardening hat and

floral-print gloves. When I give her a hug, she

smells like sunshine and earth.

“So good to see you, honey,” she says.

“You, too, Mom,” I say. I draw in a deep breath

of fresh air and look around at my surroundings.

“This place really suits you, you know?”

She smiles. “I agree. I’m really happy we found

this place.”

“Where’s Dad?”

“Cleaning out the gutters around back.”

I nod. “Okay. I’ll wait until he’s done to say hi,

then. Can I help you plant the rest of these

flowers?”

“I’d love that,” says my mom.

I roll up my sleeves and use a trowel to dig out

more holes in the soil; once my mom and I plant the

rest of the flowers, we pack the dirt back in and

give the area a good watering. Then I help her tidy

up and we head into the house. My dad comes in

soon after, and he gives me a big hug hello.

After talking for a little bit about how the drive

up was, they show me the changes they’ve made

around the house in the weeks since I first visited.

They’ve repainted a few of the rooms, hung up

some art, and they have a new, huge, gorgeous

table in the dining room.

Before the words come out of my mom’s

mouth, I already know what she’s going to tell me.

“It’s one of Dax’s pieces,” my mom says.

“Oh, yeah?” I say, trying my hardest to sound

unaffected. “Huh. Looks great.”

When Dax and I talked that night out by the

fire, he told me a lot about his woodworking. I

could hear the passion in his voice as he talked

about his process, and when he described his tables

to me, I was easily able to imagine his beautiful

creations.

But now, seeing one of his tables in real life…

my God. It’s so much more stunning than I

expected. The wood has a beautiful dark grain, and

the craftsmanship of the table is impeccable.

“Hey, uh…what do you guys have to drink?” I

say, my mouth suddenly feeling dry.

“A little of everything, as usual,” my mom says

with a laugh.

My stress wanes as we walk out of the dining

room and head into the kitchen. My mom opens up

the refrigerator door and I grab the first thing I see,

a container of juice. I pour myself a glass and

practically down it in one go.

“How’s work been?” my dad asks as he pours a

glass for himself.

I shrug. “Not bad. Same as always.”

Waitressing at the café certainly isn’t the worst

job in the world. It’s not like I dreamed of growing

up and becoming a waitress, though. While I work

hard, it’s also just a job. I’d really love to do

something more creative for work, but I’m not sure

what yet.

A timer beeps and my mom crosses the kitchen

to check on her slow cooker, which I’m assuming is

working on tonight’s dinner. She grabs a spoon,

opens up the lid, and takes a taste.

“I think it needs a little more salt,” says my

mom. She pulls out a fresh spoon and holds it out to

me. “What do you think, Bailey?”

I take the spoon from her and peer into the slow

cooker to see a delicious-looking stew.

A lot of stew.

“You’re not going to have to cook for a week,

Mom,” I say, dipping the spoon in. “It’s practically

filled to the top.”

“Well, when you’re having company over…”

she says.

“You made all of this because of me?” I raise

the spoon to my lips. The stew smells divine, and

the layered flavors spoil my tastebuds.

“Not just you, sweetie.” My mom smiles. “We

invited Dax over for dinner tonight, too.”

I almost choke on the stew.

“Oh, gosh. Are you all right, Bailey?” my mom

asks, patting me on the back. I cough and nod and

regain my composure.

“Just went down the wrong pipe,” I squeak out.

Chapter Two

W

DAX

hen I drive by the Cohens’ place and see

the second car parked in their driveway,

I immediately know it’s Bailey’s.

“Yeah, I know,” I say to Bear, who’s sitting

beside me in the front seat of the truck. “I’m so

fucking hopelessly in love with her.”

Bear nudges my shoulder with his snout, as if

telling me it’ll all be okay.

I breathe out a laugh. “Thanks for the

reassurance, boy.”

I’ve been tortured by thoughts of Bailey for the

last month. It’s not just a carnal desire, either. I

mean, yeah, of course I fucking want to pin those

curves down on my bed and make her come so

hard she can’t remember her own name.

But it’s more than that, too.

The girl’s got the most incredible soul.

After our incredible conversation that night, I

tried my damn hardest to forget about her. I knew it

was no good, falling for a girl I couldn’t have.

But not thinking about Bailey was impossible.

No, really. Impossible.

And when I ran into Alice the other day and she

mentioned that Bailey was coming up again for the

weekend—and then invited me to join them for

dinner on Friday night, saying something about “the

more the merrier”—I knew I was done for.

I understood in that moment that I was

helplessly in love with Bailey, and there was no

option but to do something about it.

I park the truck in front of the cabin and get

out, holding the door open for Bear. After he hops

out, I go around to the back of the truck and unload

the supplies I just picked up in town—a couple

things from the hardware store, a couple cases of

canned dog food, a couple bags of groceries. While

I carry stuff into the house, Bear runs a circle

around the yard and then flops onto his back and

starts rolling around.

“Don’t roll in anything nasty, Bear,” I holler at

him as I grab the second case of dog food.

After getting stuff put away in the house, I head

over to the shop. It’s where I spend the majority of

my time. I’ve been making tables for over a decade

now, selectively sourcing the wood from the

majesty that is the forest around me.

I don’t make the kind of tables I do because

they’re trendy or some shit like that, but as luck

would have it, they sell. There’s a furniture shop in

town that I bring my finished pieces to. That was

the reason for the trip into town today—another big

ol’ table delivered, one so big it almost didn’t fit in

the back of the pickup.

And now that it’s gone, the shop feels too damn

empty again.

I put away the supplies I picked up at the

hardware store, then stride outside to the area out

back where I’ve got a few different stacks of wood

waiting to be put to use. I already know which ones

I want to use—slabs from a massive cedar tree I

felled over a year ago. They’ve been air-drying out

here ever since.

I grab one of the slabs, haul it into the shop, set

it on my worktable, then go back and get a second

one. It’s been a while since I’ve made a

bookmatched table, but there’s something about the

grain in these pieces of wood that’s just begging to

be used like this. When the two mirrored slabs are

joined to form a single surface, the effect is going to

be something special.

I rip the side of the slabs off with a saw, then

feed the slabs across my jointer to clean up the

edges. When I get them back on the workbench

and push ’em together to check the fit, it’s damn

perfect.

This table’s going to be a beaut.

As I apply glue and start clamping the slabs

together, my thoughts become dominated once

again by Bailey. If I stop for a second and shut my

eyes, I can recall in vivid detail how arresting she

looked in the firelight that night.

I knew I was stepping into dangerous territory

when I leaned in to kiss her.

But I couldn’t stop myself.

And since that moment, my life has felt

incomplete without her in it.

What I need to find out, though, is whether she

feels the same way.

I tighten the last of the clamps and evaluate the

glued-together slabs. There’s nothing more I can do

with this tabletop for now. It’ll need to dry

overnight before I keep working on it.

I need something else to do, though. Something

to get the rest of this damn unease out of my chest.

I head out of the shop, grab my axe, and spend

the next hour splitting logs into firewood. Each

swing—each satisfying crack of wood—dissolves

some of the tension inside of me.

If she doesn’t feel the same way, she doesn’t

feel the same way. You’ll just fucking deal with it.

Daylight is starting to fade when I swing the axe

one last time and wedge the blade into the stump.

As I head into the house, Bear catches up with me

and barks eagerly.

“I know, bud,” I say as I open up a can of dog

food and slop it into a bowl. Damn stuff smells like

hell, but Bear eats it like it’s candy. “Dinner never

comes quickly enough.”

I set down Bear’s bowl for him, then head

upstairs to shower off the day’s sweat.

I

DIDN

’

T

THINK

it was possible for Bailey to look

more beautiful than when I first met her.

But I was wrong.

So damn wrong.

I’ve just walked into the Cohens’ house. A few

minutes before, Alice answered the door, warmly

welcomed me in, and lead me down the hallway to

their kitchen. And that’s when I saw my sweet girl.

Jesus. Bailey’s eyes are even more mesmerizing

than I remember, her smile even more magnetic,

her curves even more excruciatingly perfect.

“Hey,” says Bailey, her cheeks slightly flushed

as she looks up from getting silverware out of a

drawer. “It’s, um…it’s nice to see you again, Dax.”

“You, too, Bailey,” I say.

Goddamn it, I need to lick those lips. I need to

wrap those sexy thick thighs around my waist…

“Whiskey, Dax?” Ian asks, grabbing a bottle

from the counter.

“Ah…sure,” I say, barely able to look the guy

in the eye.

The four of us sit down to dinner a few minutes

later. The meal Alice has made is incredibly

delicious—a hell of a lot better than the stuff I

throw together for myself. More than that, though,

it’s just nice to sit down to a meal with others. My

folks split up when I was really young, and this isn’t

something I’ve ever really had.

To be able to have something like this with

Bailey, though? To sit across from each other as

husband and wife…and, later, as Mom and Dad to

a bunch of wild kids?

I’d give anything in the world to have that.

Anything.

Bailey catches me looking at her and bites back

a smile, another faint blush rising up into her

cheeks.

“So…this is one of your tables, huh?” she asks,

gesturing to the table we’re sitting around.

I nod. “It is.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“You should see his shop, honey,” says her

mom. “It’s really something.”

“We can go over there after dinner,” I say. “If

you’re interested.”

I catch a gleam in Bailey’s eyes.

“That sounds nice,” she says.

A

N

HOUR

LATER

, flashlights in hand, the four of us

walk uphill to my property. It starts raining on our

way over there, but it’s only coming down lightly,

and no one seems to mind.

When we get to my place, I break away from

the three of them to let Bear out of the house, and

he immediately runs over and greets them all.

“Hey, buddy,” Bailey says as she crouches

down and pets him. “Remember me?”

As if anyone could forget her.

I lead the way over to my shop and flip on the

lights. When Bailey walks into the shop, her eyes

widen, and she shoots a quick smile over at me.

“Is this what you’re working on right now,

Dax?” asks Alice, standing by the slabs I paired

together earlier today.

“It is.”

“It’s gorgeous,” she says.

“Thanks.”

“This is two pieces of wood?” Ian asks, leaning

over to get a better look.

“Yep. It’s a bookmatched table. You get that

mirrored effect from using two sequentially cut

slabs.”

I look over at Bailey. She’s standing just a few

feet away from me, still gazing around the space,

taking it all in.

“Is it okay if we look around?” Alice asks.

“Of course,” I say, glancing back over at her.

“Explore all you like.”

As Alice and Ian wander away to browse the

shop on their own, Bailey finally looks over at me.

She’s got the most beautiful smile on her face.

“This is such a great space,” she says. “When

you told me about it, I formed a picture of it in my

head…but this is way more incredible than

anything I could have imagined.”

I take a step closer to Bailey. I’m standing close

enough to her now that I could kiss her. Shit, how

easy it would be to dip my head down and claim

her mouth with mine.

“I need to see you, Bailey,” I murmur.

She gives me a teasing little smile. “You’re

seeing me right now.”

“Alone.”

Her eyes flick over toward her parents, then

back to me.

“When?” she asks, her voice dropping to a

whisper.

“Come over tonight,” I say. “Doesn’t matter

how late. I need to talk to you.”

She blinks and bites down on her lower lip. Her

gaze penetrates me. I can make out every little

detail of her gorgeous eyes.

“I’ll try,” she says, just before her mom calls

her over to look at something.

Chapter Three

T

BAILEY

he rain starts to pick up as my parents and I

walk back to the house—and then suddenly

it really starts to come down. The three of us run

up the driveway, laughing as we scramble to get

into the house before we’re absolutely drenched.

Inside the house, we hang up our coats and

wind down for the night. I go into the living room

and mindlessly watch TV for a little while, my mind

still racing from the last few hours of being around

Dax.

Earlier tonight, when he walked into my

parents’ house, my earlier anxiety about seeing him

vanished. I immediately felt so at ease in his

presence; it was like I was taken right back to that

night when we first discovered our connection.

But it’s one thing to enjoy seeing him again. It’s

a whole other thing to sneak out of my parents’

house and go over to his place.

I can’t actually go over there, can I?

If you go over there, Bailey, something is going

to happen.

How can I not go see him, though? He said he

needed to talk to me. And if I leave here this

weekend without talking to him…I already know

I’ll end up regretting it.

I have to see him.

I say goodnight to my parents, head up the hall

to the guest room, and lay down on the bed.

Restlessly, I turn on my side and stare out the

window. And I realize something as I stare out into

the night: I can actually see his house from here.

I wonder if he’s looking out one of his windows

right now, waiting for me to come.

Outside, the storm grows fiercer. Thunder

rumbles in the distance; lightning flashes in the sky.

The storm is beautiful, though, too—even romantic,

in a weird way.

After lying there for what feels like hours, I

finally hear my parents’ bedroom door shut. To be

on the safe side, I wait a little while longer, then get

out of bed. I pull on a pair of sneakers I had the

foresight to shove into my weekend bag, then pull a

sweater on. Ideally, I would go get my coat and put

that on, too, but I don’t want to risk waking my

parents.

Carefully, I unlock my window and push it up.

The cold and wetness of the night is a shock to my

system.

But nothing’s going to stop me now.

I climb out, carefully lower myself down, and

close the window behind me.

And then I run all the way to Dax’s cabin.

H

E

ANSWERS

within seconds of me knocking on his

door, a frown turning down his mouth.

“Jesus, Bailey,” he says, pulling me inside.

“You’re soaked.”

“You told me to come over tonight,” I say,

laughing as I wipe water from my cheeks. I look

down at the mess I’m making. “Oh, shit. Sorry. I’m

dripping everywhere.”

“Stay here,” he says. He disappears for a few

seconds, then comes back with a bath towel and

some folded-up clothing. “This stuff’s going to be

massive on you, but here. Bathroom’s just down the

hall.”

I thank him, take the clothes from him, and

quickly pad down to the bathroom, feeling horrible

about the mess I’m making of his beautiful home.

In the bathroom, I peel off my wet clothes and hang

them up, dry off with the towel, and put on the dry

clothes he gave me—which turns out to be a t-shirt

and a pair of boxers.

Yep. He’s right. The clothes are massive on me

—even with hips as big as mine. But I don’t even

care. I love the way his clothes feel against my bare

skin.

When I emerge from the bathroom, he’s got the

rainwater all cleaned up from the floor. I hear

movement in another room and walk through the

house to find him in the kitchen pouring hot water

into a mug.

“Thanks for the change of clothes,” I say. “I

hung up my stuff over the tub.”

Dax nods and hands over a mug of hot tea. He

gives me a once-over as I take it. “Not a bad look

on you.”

“Yeah?” I say, grinning. “Think I could start a

new trend?”

He laughs. “Come on. Let’s go sit.”

We go into his living room and settle down on

the couch; I swoon a little when he wraps a blanket

around me. God, do I ever want him to hold me in

those huge arms of his.

“You good?” Dax asks. “Warm enough, I

mean?”

“I am. Thank you.” I take a sip of tea, then set

the mug down on the nearby coffee table. When I

look at Dax again, his eyes are deeply focused on

me.

“I’ve thought about you so much these past few

weeks, Bailey,” he says.

My heart throbs. “I’ve thought about you a lot,

too, Dax.”

“I’ve never connected with anyone like I have

with you.”

“Me either.”

“And that kiss…” he says.

“Yeah. That kiss.”

He grins. “Exactly.”

We study each other for a few heated seconds.

Then he moves toward me, and I move toward him,

and when we kiss, the magic we experienced the

first time happens all over again.

Instantly, my body aches like crazy for him.

When his hand slides up my thigh, it’s like

electricity sparks every place he touches me. Dax’s

caress reaches my breast and I moan softly into his

mouth. Slowly, he rubs his thumb over my pebbled

nipple.

Oh, God. I want him. I need him.

Above us, the rain keeps pounding down on the

roof.

Dax pulls me onto his lap as we continue to

kiss. His hard-on strains against me, the huge size

of it sending a vibration to my core.

I know I shouldn’t be shocked. He’s a huge

dude; of course he’s going to have a huge cock.

But actually feeling it beneath me, and thinking

of all that thickness and length actually being inside

of me…

I’m so wet at the mere thought of it.

My body is humming now. I’ve never felt so

turned on in my life. And with every second that

we keep kissing, with every second that his

hardness strains against me, it almost feels like I

could—

All of a sudden, I’m having a difficult time

thinking. I’m having a hard time breathing, too.

Oh, God. It’s happening. I can’t stop it. It’s

actually happening.

A high noise escapes my throat and I clutch at

Dax’s chest as the intense little orgasm sneaks up

on me.

As much as I try to save face, there’s no hiding

it.

I cover my face with my hands and pull away

from him. “Oh my God. I can’t believe that just

happened.”

Dax pulls me back to him. “Are you kidding?

That was so fucking hot.”

I peek at him through my fingers. Slowly, I drop

my hands.

“You don’t think I’m a freak?” I say.

“Not in the slightest.”

“That’s never happened to me before. Not like

that.”

“Should we see if we can make it happen

again?”

I blush. “You’re teasing me.”

“I’m not, sweetness.” He kisses me. “But let’s

try it a different way this time.”

He lifts me up off his lap and lays me back

against the couch. When his hands find the band of

the boxers I’m wearing, I lift up my hips; he pulls

them off and drops them onto the floor.

“Damn,” he says, his eyes roaming over my

naked lower half. “Baby, you’re so beautiful.”

“You’re supposed to use compliments to get my

pants off, you know,” I tease.

“I’ll compliment you whenever I damn want.”

I bite my lip and smile.

He pushes my knees open wide. As he kisses

his way up my thighs, I swallow with anticipation.

The moment his mouth comes in contact with

my clit, I let out a high gasp.

He licks me slowly, exploring me—tantalizing

me—with his tongue. It’s so damn good that I feel

like I’m on the edge of passing out.

Outside, a bolt of lightning cracks, and it feels

like it shoots right through me.

I push up my hips and Dax increases the

intensity of the magic he’s working down there,

sucking my clit and then dipping his tongue inside

of me in a way that takes my breath away.

“Holy shit,” I moan, digging my fingers into the

couch. He moves his mouth back to my clit and

sucks it harder and I can’t take it any longer.

Another crack splits open the sky outside as I

cry out Dax’s name. The orgasm overtakes me; I

don’t even feel like I’m in my body anymore, I’m

just pleasure. Pure pleasure.

“That was…incredible,” I gasp, panting as I

come down the other side.

“You taste like heaven,” Dax says as he climbs

up on top of me. He plants hungry kisses along my

neck. My body tingles everywhere his body is in

contact with mine.

“I want you, Dax,” I whisper.

“I want you, too, sweetness.” He kisses my lips.

“I want to fucking marry you.”

My eyes widen. My heart skips a beat. Two

beats, actually. He didn’t really just say that, did

he?

“What?” I gasp.

“I said I want to marry you.” Dax moves his

kisses to the other side of my neck and I let my

cheek drop to the side. I feel like I’m in a dream.

But as I hazily look out across his living room,

basking in how good this moment is, I notice

something in the distance through the big window.

A light.

There’s a light on in my parents’ house.

“Shit,” I groan.

“What, baby?” Dax says, then follows my gaze.

“Oh. Fuck.”

He moves off me. I scramble to get dressed,

then rush over to the door and stuff my feet into my

rain-soaked shoes.

Before I leave, Dax pulls me to him for one last

kiss of the night.

Chapter Four

I

DAX

keep my hands fisted by my sides as I stare

out into the storm that’s still raging outside.

Ever since Bailey left, I’ve been standing here

at the living room window, keeping an eye on the

single glowing light coming from her parents’

house.

I refuse to go to sleep until I see it go out.

After Bailey left, I had the hard-on of the

fucking century. But as easy as it would’ve been to

take care of it myself, I wasn’t about to waste a

drop of this seed.

No. It belongs in Bailey’s womb.

Lightning flashes again against the clouds. A

few seconds later comes the booming rumble. But

then I hear another noise—something that sounds

like a knock.

No. It doesn’t sound like a knock. It is a

fucking knock.

Jesus, is that Bailey’s voice calling my name?

I bolt over to the front door and fling it open.

On the other side of it stands my sweet girl—

looking back up at me with wide, worried eyes.

“It’s my dad,” Bailey chokes out. “There’s

something wrong. I think it’s his heart.”

I don’t need to hear anymore. The two of us

rush outside and get into my truck. The tires slip

over the mud as I spin the truck around and fly

down the driveway. With a reassuring hand on

Bailey’s thigh, I get us over to her parents’ house as

fast as I can. I leave the engine running as we jump

out of the truck and race into the house.

Inside, in the front room, Ian is on his feet but is

slumped against Alice, who is barely able to keep

him upright.

“Let me take him,” I say. “Come on. Let’s go.

I’ll drive.”

Ian mutters a few broken-up words as I help

him out to the truck. I tell him everything’s going to

be okay as I get him into the passenger side.

Not gonna lie, though. He looks bad.

With Alice sitting in the front between Ian and

myself and Bailey in the back seat, we tear through

the storm toward the hospital. The thunder sounds

like it’s closing in on us. Rain splatters violently off

the windshield, the wipers barely able to keep up.

I keep glancing in the rearview mirror to check

on Bailey, but every time I look back at her, she’s

either looking at her dad or staring out the window

with tear-dampened eyes.

“Almost there, buddy,” I say, glancing over at

Ian.

Finally—fucking

finally—we

reach

the

hospital. The next several minutes seem to move in

sped-up time: I pull the truck up to the emergency

entrance, I help Ian get out of the passenger side, a

couple of hospital workers take him from me,

asking Alice a rapid set of questions.

After that, though, everything slows way, way

down.

Now all we can do is wait.

Bailey and Alice and I find seats in the waiting

room. Bailey comforts her mom. Meanwhile, I feel

useless, a feeling I fucking hate.

Every time a nurse or doctor walks out, the

three of us all look up, bracing ourselves to hear the

worst.

But a half an hour passes and no news comes.

Then another half an hour goes by.

And another.

Finally, just as it’s starting to feel hopeless, we

get an update about Ian. They confirm that he did

have a heart attack, and tell us he’s being treated

with medication. He doesn’t need surgery. They’re

confident he’ll be just fine.

“Thank God,” says Alice, clutching her

daughter’s hand.

I let out a deep breath of relief.

We don’t have to wait too much longer after

that until we’re able to visit Ian in the hospital room

they’ve transferred him to. Ian looks better than he

did when I last saw him, although he’s still pale and

obviously exhausted.

“Can’t thank you enough for what you did,

Dax,” he says.

I give his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Just glad

you’re okay, Ian.”

After that, though, I hang back. I let the three

of them have their space. And when I see that

everything seems stable, I decide it’s time for me to

go.

I

DRIVE

BACK

to the hospital the next morning. As I

approach Ian’s room, I can hear Bailey and her

mom laughing about something. I rap my knuckles

on the door.

“Come in,” Alice calls out.

When I walk in, I’m met with a tired smile from

Ian and a loving one from Bailey, who mouths a

sweet little hi to me.

“Oh!” says Alice, standing up from her chair.

“Dax. How nice of you to come by again.”

I nod and look over at Ian. “How you feeling

today, bud?”

“Like I had a heart attack,” Ian jokes. “Pull up

a chair.”

It’s good to sit with the three of them. Good to

see Ian doing better. But the longer I stay, the more

ravaged with guilt I feel about what Bailey and I

did last night. I know it’s got nothing to do with her

dad having a heart attack, but all of this feels like a

bad fucking sign.

I still need Bailey. I still want to marry her, have

babies with her, be with her until my dying day.

But I don’t want us to sneak around behind her

parents’ backs. I don’t want to be that guy.

“Hey,” I say, standing up and setting my chair

back against the wall. “I’m gonna head out.”

“You don’t have to leave yet,” says Bailey.

“No, I should,” I say. I shoot a grin at Ian. “This

old guy needs his rest.”

I say goodbye to the three of them and step out

of the room, closing the door behind me.

But I only make it halfway down the hall before

I hear rapid footsteps chasing after me.

“Dax!”

I turn. My heart swells at the sight of Bailey

rushing up to me. She reaches me and smiles as she

catches her breath.

“Thank you for everything,” she says.

“It was nothing,” I say.

“No. You saved his life. I doubt my mom or I

would have gotten him here so quickly last night.”

“I’d do a hell of a lot more for the guy. For all

of you.”

“That’s really sweet of you.”

I run a hand over my chin. Something has just

occurred to me about last night. “Did they see you

sneak back into the house?”

Bailey shakes her head. “No. I climbed back in

through my bedroom window. And I changed into

my own clothes right away. They had no idea.”

“Okay. Good.”

She worries her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Hey, um…about what you said last night…did you

really mean that?”

I smile. “Never been more serious about

anything in my life.”

Bailey’s eyes glimmer. “You really want to

marry me? Dax, we barely know each other.”

“No, we do know each other, sweetness. We

just haven’t spent much time together yet. There’s

a difference.”

She cocks her head to the side. “But still…”

“I’m in love with you, Bailey,” I say. “And I

want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

She draws in a quick breath. Her eyes prick

with tears. Then she jumps up to wrap her arms

around me and hug me tight.

“I’m in love with you, too,” she whispers into

my ear.

We hold each other for a long time. I close my

eyes and savor this moment. Then I ease her down

to her feet and dip my head to kiss those sweet lips

of hers. As we kiss, Bailey rests her hands on my

chest, one hand over my pounding heart.

We pull apart and look at each other. Her

cheeks are rosy, her eyes shining.

“I thought I was crazy for having feelings like

this,” she says. “But it feels right, Dax. And with

everything that’s happening with my dad, it makes

me realize how important it is to not waste any time

in life.”

“I agree, Bailey.”

“I want my parents to know about us, though,”

she says.

I can’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?” she says, crossing her arms

in front of her chest.

“Nothing. I was just going to tell you the same

thing. I don’t want to hide this from them, either.”

She smiles. “Okay. Good. I don’t think I should

tell my dad quite yet, though, given his state…

but…soon. I’m going to stay up here for a while, by

the way. I want to make sure my dad is okay.”

I nod. “Do you want to tell them together?”

She thinks about it for a second. “No. I should

tell them on my own. I think they’ll take the news

more easily if it just comes from me.”

“If you change your mind, you know where to

find me.”

She smiles. “I do.”

Chapter Five

M

BAILEY

y dad keeps insisting that he’s fine, that

I don’t need to stay, but I tell him over

and over again that I want to be here.

“But you’ll miss work, Bailey,” he points out.

“Yeah, and I never take days off,” I say. “The

other girls can cover my shifts. It’s seriously not a

big deal.”

Thankfully, the manager of the café I work at is

a chill guy. When I text him about my situation, he

texts back telling me how sorry he is to hear about

my dad and assures me he’ll take care of

rearranging the schedule.

After that, I text Madison to tell her about my

dad and apologize in advance if she gets stuck with

a bunch of my shifts.

Happy to take them, babe, she texts back.

Thinking of you & your fam. Love you. Btw, any

update on D???

A grin lifts the corners of my lips when I see her

question. I consider telling her about everything

that’s happened with Dax. But I know Madison is

going to have a million questions for me, so I just

text her back:

Will update you when I’m home.

After I send the text, I just keep staring at it. At

first, I can’t figure out why.

Then I realize it’s the word home. Everything

that’s just happened has completely changed the

meaning of that word for me.

My home is with Dax now.

I just hope it’s something my parents will be

able to accept.

A

FEW

DAYS

LATER

, unable to hold my secret inside

any longer, I find my mom in the master bedroom

folding clothes.

“Can I talk to you for a second, Mom?” I say,

rubbing one hand with the other nervously.

“Of course, honey,” she says. She finishes

folding a shirt and sets it on top of a pile.

I walk into the bedroom and take a seat on the

bed. “So, uh…I don’t know how exactly to say

this, so I guess I’ll just say it.”

She stops folding laundry. “Say what?”

“I…” I swallow. Shit. This is harder than I

thought.

“Bailey, what is it?”

I clear my throat. “So…you know how the first

time I came up here, Dax and I stayed out by the

fire pit after you and Dad went to bed?”

She lets a beat pass. “Yes?”

“Well…we were out there talking for quite a

while. And we actually really hit it off.”

My mom gives me a confused smile. “You hit it

off?”

“Yeah. In this…crazy intense way.” I draw in a

breath. “And I feel really weird admitting this, but I

snuck over to his house the night of the storm to

see him again.”

“Bailey,” my mom says, shocked.

“I know how it sounds…but…”

“But what?”

“I’m in love with him, Mom,” I blurt out.

The look of shock on her face deepens. “Is this

some kind of joke?”

“It isn’t. I’m serious. I know it sounds

absolutely nuts, but it’s true. And he’s in love with

me, too.”

She just stares at me for several seconds. Then,

wordlessly, she goes back to folding laundry.

“Mom?”

“I’m processing it, honey,” she says.

I swallow. “Okay.”

Several minutes of silence pass, with her

continuing to fold laundry and me just sitting there

watching her. She still doesn’t say anything to me

as she carries a couple stacks of clothes into the

walk-in closet.

When she comes back out, she finally looks me

in the eye.

“I’m not going to pretend like I’m not still

shocked,” she says. “But if the feelings you two

have for each other are truly genuine…”

“They are,” I say.

“Then I’m happy for you, honey.”

“Thanks so much, Mom,” I say, getting up to

give her a hug. It’s such a relief to have my mom’s

approval.

But I also know that’s only half the battle.

I go downstairs and find my dad in the living

room, watching some old movie on TV.

“Hey, Dad,” I say, sitting down next to him on

the couch. “Got a second to talk?”

“Sounds serious,” he says.

I smile. “It is. But it’s a good kind of serious.”

Although he might not feel that way…

My dad mutes the TV and turns his full

attention to me. As I knew it would be, it’s even

harder breaking the news to him. But I get it out as

fast as I can, telling him the same thing I just told

my mom.

When he hears what I have to say, his

expression changes in a way that makes my

stomach drop.

“You trying to give your old man another heart

attack?” he says.

“Dad. Don’t joke about that.”

He hefts out a sigh.

Before he can say anything more, my mom

walks into the living room. She acts like she’s just

come in to gather up the stray drinking glasses

sitting around the room, but it’s blatantly obvious

she’s really here to see how my dad is taking the

news.

My dad’s eyes slide over to her. “I’m guessing

Bailey already talked to you, Alice?”

My mom gathers up the last of the glasses. “She

did. I’m happy for them, though, Ian. I really am.”

“Hm. Yeah. Well. Life sure is full of surprises.”

My mom laughs gently and shakes her head.

“You’re acting like she’s moving to another

country, Ian. Your daughter is in love. It’s a good

thing, Bailey finding someone.”

My dad looks at me. “Were you looking for

someone, Bailey?”

“Dad…” I say.

“You know what?” my mom says. “We should

have Dax over for dinner tonight. I think that would

be nice. What do you think, Ian?”

I hold my breath as I wait for my dad’s answer.

He scratches at a spot above his eyebrow with his

thumb, then clears his throat and nods.

“All right,” he says. “Sounds fine.”

Chapter Six

I

DAX

’m ankle-deep in sawdust and wood shavings

when my phone rings, but I’m in such a zone

that I ignore it at first.

I’ve been putting all my focus and energy into

the bookmatched table for the last couple of days—

from cutting the tabletop down to its final

dimensions to chiseling off the bark to going over it

again and again with the router to even out the

surface. Once I get the tabletop nice and flat, I’ll

sand the hell out of it, then stain it, seal it, and build

and install the base.

The longer I’ve been working on this table, the

more I’ve come to understand why I’ve been

obsessing over making it perfect.

This is a table for us. For Bailey and me.

It’s the table our future children will sit around.

The phone rings again and I force myself out of

my thoughts. I step away from the table to answer

it.

“Hello, Dax,” says Alice.

“Alice,” I say. “Hi.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

I glance at the table. “No, it’s fine.”

“Good,” says Alice. “I’m calling because we’d

like to have you over for dinner tonight. If you’re

available, that is.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Wonderful,” she says.

She sounds cheerful, but I catch something else

in her voice, too.

“She told you, didn’t she?” I say.

There’s a beat of silence on the line.

“Yes,” Alice says. “She did.” She lowers her

voice. “To be honest, Dax, I think it’s going to take

Ian a little while to get used to it.”

“And you?” I ask.

“Well…I’m not going to lie. I was surprised

when Bailey told me. But when I looked into my

daughter’s eyes, I saw how much she truly cares

about you, and I felt reassured. Besides, it’s not like

we don’t know you, Dax. You’re not just our

neighbor. You’re a friend. And if you and Bailey

have found happiness with each other, then by all

means, of course you should be together.”

“I appreciate that, Alice.”

“So we’ll see you for dinner, then?”

“You will.”

I

T

FEELS

LIKE

DÉJÀ

-

FUCKING

-

VU

, going over to Alice

and Ian’s place again that night.

Everything’s different though, now, of course.

When I see Ian for the first time that evening, I

give his shoulder an easy squeeze.

“Hey, man,” I say. “Looking a lot better than

the last time I saw you.”

“I should hope so,” he says. “Thanks again for

the lift that night.”

“Just glad I could help,” I say.

It’s obvious that Ian’s trying his best to be

relaxed about all this. At the same time, there’s a

shade of resentment in his voice.

Not that I blame the guy. Hell, if I was in his

shoes—if my only daughter was seeing some dude

fifteen years her senior—I’d probably be acting a

lot less polite than he is right now.

But it’s not like I’m just trying to get into

Bailey’s pants. I’m fucking in love with the girl.

I ask Alice if I can do anything to help with

dinner. She just smiles and tells me to make myself

at home. But Bailey can tell that I’d rather make

myself useful, and she hands me a stack of plates.

I bring them into the dining room and Bailey

follows behind with silverware in hand. She sets it

down on the table and comes up to me to give me a

quick peck on the cheek.

“I apologize in advance if this meal is super

awkward,” Bailey says quietly.

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” I say. “I can

handle it.”

Bailey and I finish setting the table just as a

timer goes off in the kitchen. A few minutes later,

we’re all sitting down to eat.

At first, it feels like this evening might actually

go by without incident. Alice keeps the

conversation light and casual, and it seems like the

resentful vibe I got a whiff of from Ian when I first

got here has been reined in.

But halfway through dessert, I reflexively reach

out to brush away a crumb of coffee cake from the

side of Bailey’s mouth, and I immediately feel her

father’s eyes on me.

“So, Dax,” says Ian, his voice lower than usual.

“Guess you know that Bailey talked to us about

you two.”

“Yessir,” I say.

“You have a thing for dating young women?”

“Ian,” Alice says quickly. “That’s not—”

“I can’t ask the man a damn question?” Ian

snaps.

“Why don’t we have this conversation another

time?” Alice suggests.

Ian grunts, throws his napkin onto the dining

table, and pushes back his chair. The wood

screeches across the floor, a sound that makes

Bailey grimace.

Ian grumbles something under his breath and

walks away from the table.

Bailey rises from her chair, too. But I reach out

and catch her hand before she can go after him.

“I’ll talk to him,” I say, getting up from my seat.

Walking through the house, I spot him standing

out on the back patio. As I step outside to join him,

he remains facing away from me, his arms crossed

in front of him as he looks out into the woods.

“Ian,” I say.

He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even look in

my direction.

“Ignore me all you want, but I’m not going

back inside,” I tell him.

When he finally turns around, I see that his

expression is filled more with sorrow than anger.

“She’s my only daughter, Dax,” he says.

“I know that,” I say. “Look, Ian. I don’t just

want to be with Bailey. I want to care for her,

support her, be her rock. I want to have a family

with her.”

“Those are some awfully big plans, son,” Ian

says. “Especially coming from someone who barely

knows her.”

“You don’t know what we have.”

He runs his tongue over his teeth.

“Fine. I’ll bite,” Ian says. “What do you have

with my daughter?”

“We have a connection that goes soul-deep. We

have the kind of love for each other that not

everyone is lucky enough to experience in life. And

I do know her. I know her hopes and dreams. I

know her favorite childhood memories. I know

what her subtlest expressions mean. You really

want to know how serious I am about your

daughter, Ian? Here. Here’s how serious I am.” I

shove a hand deep into my pocket and pull out the

small wooden ring box, the tiniest damn thing I’ve

ever made.

Surprise floods Ian’s face as he gazes down at

the box in my hand.

“You’re planning on proposing to my

daughter?”

“I am. And nothing’s going to stop me from

asking her. But it would mean a hell of a lot if you

approved of it before I pop the question.”

Ian laughs and shakes his head. He rubs the

back of his neck for so long that I almost can’t

fucking take it.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” he

finally says. “But I give you my blessing.”

I hear a gasp and look over my shoulder. I

glimpse Bailey and her mom spying on us from the

other side of the screen door. As soon as they’re

caught, they quickly move out of sight.

“Bailey,” I call out.

She replies without showing her face,

innocently calling out, “Uh huh?”

“Come out here, please. Alice, you too.”

Slowly, Bailey reappears, slides open the screen

door, and comes out. Alice comes out, too, and

walks over to Ian.

As Bailey walks up to me, she gives me a

sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry for eavesdropping,” she says.

“I forgive you,” I say, smiling down at her. And

then, in front of her parents, in front of all the stars

out tonight, I get down on one knee in front of my

girl.

“Bailey, sweetheart,” I say, “I know we only

met a few weeks ago. But it feels like I’ve been

waiting for you my whole life. You are everything.

Everything. And my life isn’t complete without

you. Will you marry me? Will you be my wife?”

Bailey’s eyes fill with tears and she bites back a

smile. “I’d love nothing more.”

Chapter Seven

I

BAILEY

’m filled with giddiness as Dax and I head up

the hill to his cabin that night. I can’t believe

we’re engaged now.

At the same time, nothing has ever felt more

meant to be.

When we get to Dax’s cabin, he opens the front

door, sweeps me up into his arms, and carries me

inside. I wrap my arms around his neck and marvel

for the millionth time at how strong he is.

I know he’ll always take care of me. Always

protect me. Always be my rock.

Dax carries me past Bear, who’s sound asleep

on his dog bed. I giggle against Dax’s chest when

Bear lets out a little snore. Dax holds tightly onto

me as he carries me upstairs and brings me into his

bedroom, where he lays me down on his huge bed.

As I gaze up at him and his massive stature, intense

desire for him surges through me.

“Close your eyes for a minute, sweetness,” he

says.

“What if I don’t want to?” I say with a smirk.

“You’ll like it. Come on.”

“Fine,” I say, faking exasperation. After I close

my eyes, I hear Dax move around the room, and I

hear little sounds I can’t quite place.

I’m dying to find out what he’s doing.

He finally tells me I can open my eyes, and

when I do, I let out a gasp. There are lit candles

everywhere around the room now, the warm, lovely

glow surrounding us.

“This is so romantic,” I say.

“Gotta make our first night together special,”

Dax says as he joins me on the bed.

I give him a look. “Only the first night?”

“I’ll light candles every night if you want ’em

every night, sweetness,” he says.

“We’ll see,” I say, smiling up at him. I lift my

chin and he bends down over me and presses his

lips to mine. His kiss is strong and warm, his tongue

needful as it slides against mine.

I’m already so wet for him.

And as I slide my hands over him, it’s obvious

he’s so ready for me, too.

I pop open the button on his fly and pull down

the zipper. I moan softly as I smooth a hand over

the bulge in his boxers. Dax groans and reaches in

to pull out his cock, and when I see it for the first

time, I draw in a quick breath.

Holy shit, my man is well-hung.

I guess it’s not like I expected anything less.

That night when he pulled me onto his lap—the

night I came without him even touching me there—

I could feel how huge he was through the layers of

clothing between us.

But to actually see it is a whole other

magnificent experience.

“You want a taste of this, baby girl?” Dax asks,

gripping his shaft.

“Yes, please,” I say. I look up at him and wet

my lips.

“Open your mouth.”

I do.

“Wider, baby. I’ve got a lot of cock to feed

you.”

I laugh, then do as he tells me. He moves his

hips forward and slides the bulbous head of his

cock past my lips. God, I love the feeling of him in

my mouth.

“Fuck,” Dax groans. As he pushes deeper into

my mouth, my body vibrates with lust.

Dax threads his fingers through my hair and

gently holds the back of my head as he begins to

slide in and out of my mouth. His low, deep

breathing becomes louder and more ragged as he

thrusts, and I suck him as hard as I can.

“You gonna be a good girl and swallow my

cum?” he grunts.

I moan around his cock. He pumps faster, his

fingers tightening in my hair, and then he lets out a

deep growl as he shoots his load down my throat.

Holy shit, there’s so much of it.

I swallow and sigh as he slides out of my

mouth. I watch him in a lust-filled stupor as he

kicks his pants and boxers off, then pulls his shirt

up over his head. His upper body is so huge and

defined that it’s almost unreal.

I can’t believe he’s mine.

And I’m so ready to give myself to him—so

ready for him to finally claim me and make me his.

Dax pulls off my top, tears off my bra, yanks

off my pants and panties. Even though he’s gone

down on me once before, it’s the first time he’s

seeing me completely naked, and I can’t help

worrying a little that he’ll be disappointed—I’m no

model, that’s for sure.

But when he drinks in the sight of me, his jaw

goes slack—and his already-hard-again cock

throbs.

“You’re a goddess,” he says. “An absolute

goddess.”

I give him a flattered grin. Then he spreads me

open and lowers his mouth between my legs and

my smile melts into a series of moans. He laps up

my cream eagerly, bringing me quickly into a state

of ecstasy. I arch my back and scream out as I

come against his tongue.

I’m only half-aware of my surroundings in my

post-orgasmic haze. I feel Dax’s body move over

me, feel his lips close over one of my pebbled

nipples, hear his low, sweet words whispered in my

ear.

Then I feel the throbbing head of his cock

pressing against my pussy, and suddenly everything

is so vivid and real again.

Our mouths seal together as he pushes into me.

Inch by inch, he fills me up, his cock entering me

raw. It feels so good I want to sob.

“You okay, baby girl?” he asks, pulling back to

look at me.

“Yeah,” I pant, nodding. I blink away my tears.

“It just feels so good.”

“You have no idea.” He sinks even deeper into

me and I let out another moan. “Jesus, you’re so

tight. So wet.”

“Only for you,” I whimper.

“That’s right. Only for me.” He thrusts into me

again. “And I’m going to fill up this sweet cunt with

cum over and over tonight.”

I strain for another kiss. He gives me what I

want. Then he starts thrusting into me faster…

harder…deeper. It feels so good I can’t even think.

I dig my fingers into his muscled back, breathe hard

into his kiss, and cry out against his mouth as I

come again. I’m still coming as he spills into me,

the heat and power of it tipping me over into white-

hot bliss.

Chapter Eight

I

EPILOGUE – DAX

7 Months Later

an and I exchange a look when we walk up to

the door and hear the burst of giggling coming

from inside his house.

“Maybe we should wait until the baby shower

is over,” Ian suggests.

I slap him on the back. “Come on, man. We can

survive this.”

Ian sighs and reaches out to open the door.

When we walk in, Alice is the first person to see us.

“Hey, boys,” she says, waving us into the living

room. “You’re right on time.”

“Dax? Dad?” Bailey calls out from further

inside the house.

Ian and I walk into the living room, and I think

we both wince at how flooded the room is with

pink.

It’s everywhere. Balloons. Streamers. The

presents. The cake.

“Hey, ladies,” I say.

“Hi,” they call out as a group, and then all burst

into giggles again.

Bailey—who looks even more radiant than

usual in the white dress she has on—gets up from

her seat as I walk across the room to greet her. I

give her a kiss on the cheek and tell her how

beautiful she looks.

“Thanks, baby,” she says.

“So, Dax,” says Madison, coming up to me with

a cup of punch—pink punch, of course. “How are

you feeling about having twins?”

I accept the cup of punch from her and grin.

“Pretty excited.”

“Not nervous?”

“Nervous?” I scoff. “Nah.”

“Well, consider me impressed,” says Madison.

“I would be completely freaking out if I was having

twins.”

“You would be freaking out if you were having

one kid,” says Bailey, nudging her best friend.

“Okay, fine,” says Madison, laughing. “That’s

true, too.”

The past seven months have been crazy in the

best of ways. After our engagement, Bailey quit her

job and moved up here to the mountain. A few

weeks after she moved in, she took a pregnancy

test. I didn’t think it was possible to be any more in

love with her, but I fell even harder for her when

she surprised me with the news.

Bailey also told me she’d figured out what she

wanted to do now that she wasn’t waitressing

anymore: she wanted to learn how to make little

hand-carved wooden bowls and sell them online.

Which, naturally, I thought was an incredible

idea.

Three months later, her business was up and

running. She gave away one of her beautiful little

bowls to every guest who came to our wedding—

which we had up here in the woods, of course.

And now we’re just weeks away from the twins

being born.

After Bailey’s baby shower ends, I load up all

the gifts into the truck, shaking my head at how

spoiled our girls already are. I try to help clean up

the explosion of pink leftover from the party, too,

but Alice insists that she and Ian will take care of it.

“Go enjoy yourselves,” Alice says, waving us

away. “You two should focus on soaking up this

time before the babies come.”

“Okay, fine,” I say. “But we’re having you two

over for dinner later.”

“Sounds great,” says Ian, grinning and giving

my shoulder a friendly slap. After Bailey and I got

engaged, it still took a while for Ian to fully warm

up to me again, but now things couldn’t be better

with him.

Back up at our cabin, I tell Bailey to take it

easy, and she lays down on our couch and scratches

Bear behind the ear while I bring the rest of the

gifts in.

“Best husband ever,” Bailey calls out from the

couch as I’m carrying in the last of the gifts.

“What was that?” I say, pretending not to hear.

“I said best hus—hey!” she says, sitting up and

giving me a look. “You heard what I said.”

“Huh? I heard what?”

“Dax!”

I let out a laugh and join Bailey on the couch.

“Foot rub?” I offer.

“Oh, God. That would be amazing,” says

Bailey. She lays back against the couch cushion and

I pull her feet into my lap. As I start massaging one,

she tells me about the baby shower—the games

they played, all the little finger food her mom and

Madison made, and how excited everyone is to

meet the twins.

“I can guarantee you I’m more excited than all

of them put together,” I say.

“I don’t doubt it,” she says and shoots me a

smile.

I start massaging Bailey’s other foot and she

lets out a moan—one that sounds a little too much

like another kind of moan.

“Hey,” I warn, squeezing her foot.

She laughs. “It’s so good, though. I can’t help

it.”

Chapter Nine

“H

EPILOGUE – BAILEY

5 Years Later

appy Birthday, Mommy!”

I open my eyes and am met with

the sight of our twins, Cara and Linnea, at the side

of my bed.

My heart bursting with love, I pull their cheeks

toward me one at a time for kisses. “Thank you,

sweetie pies.”

“Come on! Get up!” they insist, tugging on my

arm.

I yawn and reach for my watch, which is sitting

in one of my handmade bowls on my bedside table.

I’m still making and selling my little bowls online,

and I love it just as much as the day I started.

I check the time on my watch. It’s a quarter to

eight. I yawn again. “Don’t I get to sleep in on my

own birthday?”

“But Daddy made breakfast,” the girls say.

Come to think of it, there is a really delicious

smell coming from the kitchen. I slide out of bed

and follow my giggling girls downstairs.

When I step into the dining room, I beam at the

breakfast spread set out on the table. There’s

freshly squeezed orange juice, toast, eggs, fresh

fruit, bacon, the works.

To be fair, though, anything looks amazing

sitting on this gorgeous bookmatched table that Dax

made for us.

It will forever be my favorite piece of his.

When Dax walks in with a plate of towering

waffles adorned with birthday candles, I burst out

laughing. He brings the plate over to me and gives

me a kiss.

“Happy Birthday, honey.”

“Thanks, baby,” I say, blowing out the candles.

“This all looks amazing.”

“Sit down. Eat. I’ll bring you some coffee.”

“I want coffee, too!” says Cara.

“Me too!” says Linnea.

“Since when do you two like coffee?” I say,

scoffing. “And no, you may not have any.”

The girls both groan. Soon, though, they’re too

focused on eating breakfast to care anymore.

While the four of us eat—and while Bear waits

impatiently by the table for scraps—we talk about

what we’re going to do today. The girls want to go

on a hike, and I agree that sounds wonderful; we

also have dinner plans tonight with my parents.

My mom and dad have both been doing great;

they’ve enjoyed being grandparents so much. And,

thankfully, my dad hasn’t had any more health

scares. At the last checkup he went to, the doctor

was amazed at how great his heart looked.

“Do you want to open your birthday present,

Mommy?” Linnea asks me.

“Shouldn’t I wait until we’re with Grandma and

Grandpa?” I say.

The girls look impatiently at their father. Dax

grins at me. “They’re really excited about it, Bail.”

“All right, let’s do it, then,” I say.

The girls rush away to go get the present and I

move over to sit on Dax’s lap, giving him a kiss and

thanking him for the wonderful morning. I’m in the

middle of whispering in his ear about all the ways

I’m going to thank him later tonight when the girls

come running back in.

“I want to give it to her!” Cara cries.

“We’ll both give it to her, silly,” Linnea says.

Together, my girls hand me my birthday

present, their faces beaming with pride.

“Aw, girls,” I say, taking it from them.

Carefully, I remove the wrapping paper.

Inside is a wooden birdhouse—a beautifully

crafted birdhouse painted in the most wild, lovely

way.

“We made it for you, Mommy!” they exclaim.

I look at Dax, who grins and nods. “With a little

help.”

I laugh and draw my girls into my arms.

“I love it, girls,” I say. “It’s absolutely perfect.”

Want to read Madison’s story and find out what

Dax and Bailey are up to now?

Get your copy of TITUS, Big Hot Alphas Book 2!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kate Hunt writes short, sexy, feel-good romances about

delicious men and the feisty heroines they can’t live without.

Kate is married to her high school sweetheart,

unapologetically spoils her pets, and always has a song stuck

in her head.

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