Oh…wow.

I’m on the edge of my seat swooning as Dixon just serenaded me in his native tongue. I know that couldn’t be a curse because I’m not totally clueless, and I know the word “bella” means beautiful. So did Dixon just call me…beautiful?

My heart begins racing at the possibility, and I whisper, “What did you say?”

The air is charged by an unseen static, and I know I should stop talking, but I can’t.

“I thought you said it didn’t matter,” he says, matching my tone as he inches closer to me, while I do the same to him.

“I changed my mind,” I reply, my eyes involuntarily dropping to his mouth.

“I said, you’re a beautiful girl,” he huskily confesses.

“And what else?” I press, because I know there’s more.

“I also said, you have beautiful eyes.” He moves another inch closer.

“You think I’m beautiful?” I gasp, not noticing our knees are touching until my leg is on fire.

“Yes,” he replies without pause. “You’re gorgeous.”

“T-Thanks,” I stammer as I lean forward, my body wanting to be closer to his.

What am I doing? I need to stop this, it’s wrong. But why does it feel so right?

Being with Dixon is effortless, and with him I’m not afraid or shying away from his touch like I am with others.

“I think you’re gorgeous, too.” It’s out before I can stop myself.

Dixon’s eyes widen, and I kick my ass for not putting a lid on my rampant brain. But he doesn’t look troubled by my confession, and if anything, he looks highly roused by my honesty. I lower my eyes, embarrassed by my frankness, but he gently places two fingers under my chin and raises my face to meet his. I go willingly, and when I meet his heated stare, a gasp escapes me because he looks as if he’s about to pounce.

However, he remains absolutely still, and I breathlessly anticipate his next move.

His thumb, which is still grasping my chin, begins a slow, tortuous journey of my jaw, and as he sashays the tip back and forth over my skin, my mouth parts and I lick my lower lip. Dixon hungrily follows the movement, and I squirm when I’m rewarded with a lopsided smirk. I’d give anything to know what he’s thinking.

“Sei un angelo,” he whispers, and the smoldering look in his deep blue eyes hint that his words are of tenderness as he softly lets me go.

“What does that mean?” I breathlessly ask, but he shakes his head, not replying.

I’m completely lost in a Dixon bubble, and suddenly, nothing else exists. I know he feels it too, and as he leans forward, painfully slow, wetting his supple, sinful lips, he only stops when our faces are mere inches apart. My breath leaves me in small, winded gasps, and Dixon cockily smirks, knowing what this intimacy is doing to me.

The electricity passing between us has every nerve ending in my body prickling in awareness. My skin hums in pleasure as Dixon raises his finger and, ever so gently, rubs the back of his knuckle down my cheek and across to my parted lips. He’s silently asking for entrance, and damn me, I want him inside.

Opening my mouth wider, Dixon heatedly watches the movement and strokes his finger along the seam of my mouth, before finally placing the tip inside. Timidly, I circle the top of his pointer finger, and he hisses, which has my insides liquefying.

He watches me slowly tongue him, his eyes blistering, but he never pushes. This is my show as much as it is his, and in this moment, I want to kiss him so bad. I know it’s wrong and I should be pulling away, but I can’t. I’ve felt this way from the moment I met him.

Dixon softly removes his finger from my mouth and slides it down the center of my bottom lip, no doubt sensing my need. And like the true man that he is, he boldly bends forward, ready to claim my mouth as his. However, the deathly whistle from Kill Bill chimes loudly, interrupting our moment, and I hastily pull back, nearly giving myself whiplash. My cheeks flame in embarrassment, but also in desire, and I clumsily reach for my cell off the coffee table.

“Shit,” I curse when I see who’s calling me.

Dixon blows out a deep breath as he falls back against the sofa, fisting his hair.

Whether David has the best or worst timing, I’m still undecided, but I answer the phone on the fifth ring.

“Hey,” I say, my shrill voice sounding unlike me.

“Hey, babe, I missed you. Sorry if I interrupted your studying,” he replies, his warm voice causing a ball of guilt to subside in my stomach.

“Oh, it’s fine,” I say, feeling heated, as I know Dixon is listening to every word.

I can’t do this with him sitting here, as it feels so wrong and dirty. David is happily chatting away and I slowly stand, turning to look at Dixon, who looks half pissed, half aroused—the look suits him. I raise my pointer finger, indicating I’ll only be a minute and he nods. I excuse myself and duck into my bedroom, taking the first breath since I answered the phone.

“So, what do you think?” David asks as I close the door behind me.

“About what?” I counter, as I haven’t been listening to a word he’s said.

“About meeting my parents this weekend. They really want to meet you. And I really want you to meet them.”

…Shit.

This is so not good timing. Dixon is in the other room, and not to mention, I was seconds away from kissing him. Now my kind-of-boyfriend has just asked me to meet his parents. Oh God, this is too much. I feel a small bout of anxiety creep over me, and I take a seat on the edge of my bed.

“Um…David, I don’t know.”

“Why, Maddy? You know I’m crazy about you, and I’m not going anywhere,” he softly states.

“I know, and I’m into you, too.”

“But,” he prompts.

“But this is a big step.”

“I know. But I’m ready to take it with you,” he says, his voice displaying nothing but care.

My breath comes out in small pants as I can’t take the pressure. Just say no, Madison, my inner self screams. Learn to say no.

David is sweet, kind, and I am dating him. Just because the man I’m obsessing over is sitting in my living room, doesn’t warrant me to be so detached.

“Okay, fine. Early dinner, though,” I say, finally caving. “I’ve got a ton of homework I gotta get through this weekend.”

“You got it, babe, whatever you want,” David says excitedly, and I can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “I’ll make all the arrangements. My mom is going to flip. She’s really excited to meet you.”

“I’m excited to meet your mom, too,” I reply, massaging my temple.

I really should go, as Dixon is in the other room, and I’m being extremely rude.

“Maddy?” David questions.

“Yeah?” I reply, not liking his tone.

“Maybe after we’re done, you could, I don’t know, maybe spend the night? I could help you study,” David suggests, and I can hear the apprehension in his voice.

I pause, needing a moment to process his question. David and I have kissed and fooled around a little, but it’s been quite tame. He hasn’t pushed with the sex stuff, and although I haven’t told him about my past, he knows something nasty lies dormant in my memories. However, he respects my need for space and he doesn’t push.

But meeting his parents and spending the night is too much for me.

I just…can’t.

My silence says it all and David says, “It’s okay. I understand. I’m sorry for asking.”

The hint of disappointment stabs me in the chest, so I stupidly reply, “I’ll think about it. But I’m not making any promises.”

“Oh, Maddy,” David gushes. “You’re the best. I’m so lucky.”

His kindness really amazes me, and makes me feel like an even bigger bitch for being so insensitive.

“I’m lucky, too. Anyway, I better go. I’ve got a mountain of homework with my name written all over it.”

“Oh, okay, cool. Well, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” I reply, picking at a loose thread on my comforter.