Page 7 of Filthy and Fierce
She scrunches up her nose. “It’s soaked. It sure is hot in here.”
“Put. Your. Shirt. On,” I tell her.
She puts a hand on her hip. “I swear I’ve had enough of you telling me what to do.”
I take a step toward her, which is my first mistake. “Put your shirt on, Faith.”
She juts her chin at me defiantly. “No.”
I’m gripping the fork with one hand, and my other hand is in a fist. My whole body is pulled taut, and I know I should walk away, but as soon as I think about Carl, or Eddie, or any of the other hands seeing her like this, it has me seeing red. I toss the fork against the wall and stalk toward her.
She’s not scared at all. Hell, if anything, her eyes light up and her smile gets bigger. This is what she wants. She wants me to make her do something. I don’t stop until we’re standing toe to toe. “Put your shirt on, Faith.”
She leans her head back so she can look at me. “No.”
I growl. A literal fuckin’ growl leaves my mouth. My chest rumbles, and I have the intense need to bang my fist on my chest. What is it about this woman that makes me crazy and out of control? “Faith Allen, put your shirt on.”
“No,” she says without hesitating.
Fuck me, this woman is killing me. I reach for her shirt that is hanging on a nail, and she backs away from me. “I’m not putting that on. It’s wet.” She points at me. “And you don’t have a shirt on.”
I inhale, deep and long, trying to contain myself. I hold the shirt out to her. “Put the shirt on or I’m putting it on you myself.”
Her eyes widen. “Dixon, my sports bra covers more of me than a bathing suit does. You’re being ridiculous.”
I have her cornered up against the wall now, and I know I need to stop and walk away, but like a fool, I stay rooted to my spot. “Faith?—”
Before I can get another word out, she puts her hands flat against my abdomen. On contact, we both suck in a breath, and my body jolts. I stare at her hands touching me, and I’m frozen in spot, unable to move.
She slides her hands up my bare chest, across my pecks, and when her palms graze my erect nipples, I groan. It’s a guttural groan that starts in my chest and rumbles on release. Her touch is too much for me to handle, and I know I should stop her, but she’s not done yet. She slides her hands back the other way, and I suck in a breath as if I’ve been punched in the stomach.
Her voice is soft. “You like that?”
With her shirt still in my hand, I bring my hands up to stop her. My cock is hard, and it wouldn’t take much more of her touch for me to have her bent over, taking me in, deep and hard. “Faith.” I say her name as a warning, but she doesn’t take it as one.
She smiles and leans into me. Her breasts flatten against me, and I have to suck in a breath. She’s trying to distract me, and she’s doing a hell of a job at it. “What are you doing?”
She presses her lower body against me, and there's no way she doesn’t feel the thick rod of my desire. I should push my hips back and break contact, but I do the opposite. My hips lurch forward, and my hands go to her hips to hold her to me. Damn, she feels so good. I hiss her name. “Faith.”
She slides her hands up, and they hook around my neck. She fits against me as if she was made for me. I lean into her, pushing her back into the wall, and the grimace on her face letting me know I’m being too rough stops me from takingher right here and now. I try and back away, but she lifts her leg and hooks it around my waist. It’s almost comical that a little thing like her thinks she can possibly stop me, but I let her hold me to her. “You’re my best friend’s daughter. He’s like a father to me.”
She blinks. “He’s not here, Dixon. It’s only me and you.”
For just a second, I wonder if I could do it. Can I go against Charlie and take his daughter in the stall of the barn? No, I can’t. “It’s not happening.”
Her eyes widen, and her mouth drops. It takes her a second to hide her reaction, but when she does, she lets go of me, grabbing her shirt from my hand. “If you don’t want me, just say it, Dixon. You don’t have to use my father as an excuse.”
I should just let it go, but I’m not smart enough. I grab the shirt from her hands and hold it up to her. She lets me put it over her head and helps me get her arms through the sleeves. The fact she’s going along with this tells me that I’ve broken her spirit. How the fuck she can believe I don’t want her is beyond me, but that’s not going to stand with me. As soon as I have her covered, I take a step back. “I do want you, Faith. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted a woman in my life.”
She gasps, and I should let it go, but I bury myself a little deeper. “I fucked my hand last night just thinking of you. I woke up with a hard-on this morning wondering what it would be like to have your perfect, puffy lips wrapped around my dick. Standing next to you, working side by side with you, and not being inside you is a hell that I don’t think I will survive. So yeah, Faith, I want you.”
I don’t know why I thought she would just let it go, but she doesn’t. She walks over to me and presses her hand to the bulge between my thighs. She squeezes me softly. “You canhave me, Dixon. Any and every way you want me, I’m yours.”
It takes everything inside me not to take her up on her offer. I step out of her reach and walk to the door of the stall. “If I let Carl come in here, will you promise me you’ll keep your shirt on?”
She shrugs. “You’re the only man I want to see me without a shirt.”
I shake my head. “I’m trying to be strong here, Faith.”
