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trust and she couldn’t bear it if Dax was less than she hoped in this case.
    “Dax, no. I…I…can’t. I…had, um…”
    He pulled his hand out from under her hands and her shirt, shifted and came up more fully on her body and took her cheeks in his ample hands before speaking.
    “I know, Stacy. I know about the cancer, well, about the mastectomy, anyway. I’ve known that for a long time, but I wasn’t one hundred percent sure until I asked John.” He must have read the murderous look in her eyes, because he amended, “John didn’t spill, if that’s what you’re thinking. I asked him and the look on his face told me. That was all the confirmation I needed. The only thing that matters about your cancer and treatment is that you survived. You got dealt a shit hand, but you kept playing and you won. Physically, you are just as beautiful as you would be with two breasts or twenty. It matters not to my physical attraction to you.”
    “But, how can that be. I know you’re a boob man. How can you be turned on by a woman with one fucking tit and a puckered smiley face?” Stacy tried to rise, but Dax refused her retreat.
    “Damn it, stop running away and listen to me.” He grabbed her hand and wrapped it around his cock, holding it in place and stroking ever so slightly. Wow, my fingers aren’t even touching. Jesus H. Christ. “Does that feel like I’m not physically attracted to you? Shit, do you have any idea what you do to me? Not your tits or ass or any of that, but you? Hell, Stacy, if the cancer came back, I wouldn’t care what it took to get rid of it. It’s not your tits I want. It’s you. All of you.” He leaned in and kissed her with so many emotions she couldn’t deal with it. “Now, if you’ll lay back and just enjoy it, I’d like to get my beard waxed.”
    Kiss.
    “Sooner, rather than later.”
    As he slid back down her body, Stacy wanted to trust him so badly, but she wasn’t sure she could just yet. “Can we leave my shirt on for now?”
    “Of course, babe, anything that makes you feel safe with me, makes me happy.” As soon as the last syllable passed his lips, he was on her—licking and sucking and biting, in all the right places. Stacy threw her head back with a moan and slammed her eyes shut as pleasure washed over her body. But before that happened, she saw the sincerity in his eyes when he said her safety made him happy, and that had an erotic effect on her.
    Or maybe it was that talented tongue and those fucking magical lips. Not only did the words they release fill her heart with wonders, their movements were sheer ecstasy.
    Grabbing his head, she directed him with precision. There was no doubt he was fucking her with his mouth, but she was fucking his face right back. Bucking and writhing, she was getting closer and closer to screaming in pleasure. “You’re a pussy-eating pro,” she panted out between moans. Her words sent him into a frenzy. The moans of pleasure coming from Dax rivaled hers. The fact he seemed to enjoy it as much as she did was a testament to his gender.
    “I enjoy eating at the Y,” he murmured between lingering licks. “Not hard to do…when you taste like mine.” He practically shouted those last words between nibbles. Something about those words, or maybe the inflection and reverence he put into them, along with a well-timed bite and pinch, sent Stacy careening over the edge at breakneck speed. She found herself on the verge of an asthma attack when her breath locked in her lungs on a silent scream. And I don’t fucking have asthma.
    Shit, she had never cracked her back on an orgasm before. Her breath still hadn’t been liberated as Dax climbed her body and entered her in one smooth stroke. “Batman’s bl…FUCK!” he shouted when their pelvises met and he ground once, then stilled.
    When she exerted a modicum of control over her body once again, she ground up into him and watched his eyes go wide and gooey. She loved that power, always had,