Page 45 of The Fix

“Yeah?” I mutter against her flesh and pinch her clit between my teeth. She squeals at the pressure, the pain that I lick away, and buries her hands in my hair.

“God, keep doing that.”

I grunt when she gasps, my dick perking back up the more she fights my hold on her legs.

Anna’s near vibrating when I spread her wide open, a sheen of sweat building up on her porcelain skin when I tease her entrance with a finger.

My tongue flicks, and she gasps, as I thrust the digit inside her.

“Toby,” Anna keens for me, and I look up just in time to catch her eyes rolling back into her head. The sight alone makes my dick jump and my finger curl, hitting her G-spot and making her back arch. “Yes!”

She whimpers when I lick, clenches when I thrust, and it only takes one more pass over her G-spot to have her pussy fluttering around my finger.

“That’s it, dirty girl. Fuck.”

I lap at her long enough for the aftershocks to slow, the pulsing to stop, and her body to relax in my grip.

“Oh my God.”

That’s not the good oh my God.

My gaze flicks to her face with a pang of worry, except she’s covered it with both of the hands that were just buried in my hair.

“Shit,” I mutter and release my grip on her. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she mumbles, and I kneel on the mattress beside her. “I, um, crap—I can take more than that, I just …” Her voice sounds thick—too thick.

“Just what?” I reach for her but pause, my hand hanging in the air above her.

I’m absolute shit at this. Terrible at comforting others—fuck, I can’t even do it for myself—but I’m even more out of sorts when she should be soaring from the orgasm she just had. Not sound like she’s crying behind her hands.

“Just what, Anna?” I push with an itch I can’t explain in my palms.

“Just …” She sighs behind her hiding spot. “Just leave me be, Jeffers.”

“Anna…”

“Please leave me alone. I need a minute.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Anna

I’m fully prepared to argue. To allow the projection of the anger I feel toward myself to bleed out of me and land all over Toby in the form of crappy words thrown at him.

I’m stewing.

Words hover on the tip of my tongue, ready to spill, when unexpectedly, the bed rises instead of sinking, and the warmth of his presence leaves my side.

This was a huge mistake.

One that’s going to make things awkward and difficult until the point at which I have to tell my boss.

What I don’t expect … is my heart to sink.

Fall deep and crack just a little bit.

This man is the definition of hot mess, and yet …

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