Page 97 of The Fixer

“First things first. Stay like that, and I’ll be right back.” He gave her ass a smack and ducked into the bedroom.

She planted her feet in a wide stance, her entire body quivering with anticipation. When it came to sexual encounters, Joy had never beendominated—she always maintained the upper hand or at least stayed on an equal footing with her partner. For reasons she couldn’t comprehend, she turned over control tothispartner without hesitation. The way he took what he wanted was heady stuff, and every fiber in her body sang with awareness. He was primal, a stalking predator she should have wanted to run from.

Then it hit her: she trusted him.

He returned, growling, “Oh yeah,” and a condom packet rustled behind her.

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You’re not going to insist I put it on this time?”

“No, ma’am. I’m not sure I could take you touching me right now.”

His words made her want to preen. He leaned over her once more, one hand holding her down at her nape as he rocked against her, and the table wobbled. The coffeemaker hissed at the same time. The noise startled them both, and they burst out laughing. Their laughter shook the table.

He hauled her upright, his granite-hard shaft poking her. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. We don’t want to break this poor old table’s legs and scald ourselves with hot coffee.”

She turned and faced him. “It’s a great idea, but we’d definitely break it. We need a sturdier surface. The back of the couch?” She raised an eyebrow.

His lips tipped up. “I thought of that. It’s a little high, but it reminds me of one of the scenes in your third book.”

She blinked. “You read my book?”

“All of them.” Now he waggled his dark brows. “Gave me lots of ideas.”

Before she could respond, he draped her over the arm of the couch and positioned her legs. With one merciless stroke, he plunged inside. The unexpected invasion stole her breath and at the same time electrified her.

A low, feral grunt rolled from him. His fingers dug into her hips, raising them to meet his pelvis. He pushed in, pulled out, over and over. His hips flexed and drove, his thrusts growing powerful and savage. The couch rocked with the pounding.

The delicious friction drove her to euphoric heights, and she welcomed the oblivion that would crash around her. She wanted to pull every sliver of pleasure from the moment. She lifted her rear to better accommodatehis thickness, to encourage him to delve deeper, but otherwise couldn’t move. Like their first coupling, she could only take the punishing strokes he meted out, and she ate it up. She hung on to the corporeal world by a single thread. When he slid his hand between her legs and manipulated her with his talented thumb, she felt herself heading over the edge, felt the thread fray and snap. They’d barely started when she hit that pinnacle of ecstasy and cried out his name.

He didn’t slow down.

The wolf was back in control, and God, did she love it!Thiswas what she craved from him. It was the stuff she wrote about and until now had only imagined. It wasfucking. Dirty and nasty and so, so hot. The best damn ride of her life.

He erupted with a roar, pulsing inside her. Clamping down on him, she orgasmed again and lost track of who she was.

Gasping for air, he collapsed on her back, bracing part of his weight against the back of the couch. They remained like that until, with the tenderest touch, he gathered her hair in his hand and panted, “Was that too much?”

The golden retriever was back.

Pinned in place, she merely shook her head. But she could practically feel the worry lines furrowing his forehead, and she wanted to smooth them away. “No. I’m a huge fan of your beastly side.”

“You bring it out in me.” He kissed her shoulder and got to his feet, bringing her with him.

She turned in his arms and looped hers around his neck. Shamelessly, she shimmied against him, like a contented cat rubbing against its human’s leg. She couldn’t get enough of his slick skin against her own. Pushing her hair from her face, he smiled down at her, then moved his gaze to their chests heaving in unison. Apparently, he didn’t mind her plastering herself against him.

She tilted her head. “I am curious whether you have a low or medium setting, or if it’s always on high.”

His face fell. “I thought you liked it on the hotter side. Did I read you all wrong?”

“Not at all. Idolike it.” She was a newly minted fan of sex on the rougher side. “I’m just curious, that’s all.”

His smile returned with that devilish curve to it. “Guess you’ll have to find out.” He dropped a soft kiss on her head and released her. “I’m going to clean up. Then let’s do it again, and I’ll show you my medium setting.”

She burst out with a laugh. “Are you serious? Already?”

“Well, give or take an hour and a few cups of coffee. Feel like showering with me?” He waggled his eyebrows and disappeared into the bathroom. She practically sprinted after him.

They sat at herkitchen table, sipping coffee after demolishing a bag of Mountain Coffee pastries Charlie had sweetly run out and bought. Joy was still waiting to experience his “medium setting,” though she was content, sated through and through—and squeaky clean after their shower in the cramped stall. She had no idea where this would lead, if anywhere, but she promised herself she would simply enjoy Charlie for the fleeting time he was hers.

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