Page 14 of Enticing the Fixer

That’s not this woman. She’s classy. And smart. The last thing she needs to do is go home with someone like me. Someone who doesn’t have a last name. Someone who doesn’t believe in happily ever afters. Someone who thinks everyone is on the make.

And who’s looking at this woman like he wants her to be more.

But if I do this, it’s a one-night stand. Because that’s all this can be. She doesn’t do random hookups, and I must focus on Truman’s client’s case on Monday morning.

She touches my cheek, running over the light stubble. “Are you okay?”

No.“Yes.” I nod. “I’m good. You’re spot on with your extrapolation of alcohol consumption and its subsequent elimination from the body.”

“I was top in my class in biology and chemistry.” She steps forward until we’re plastered together. “Does that intimidate you?”

I thread my fingers through her hair and lean down until our lips are inches apart. “No. That turns me on. I have a thing for naughty students.”

Her eyes flash with desire. “That sounds sexy. Do you dress up in skirts and button-down tops as the teacher?” She waggles her eyebrows. “Because I would love to see that.”

I chuckle and slam my mouth over hers. I’ve never wanted one of Jax’s roleplay boxes more. The fun I could have with this woman.

For one night. How do I pack an eternity of experiences into eight hours?

Chapter Five

Kinsley

As the city lights flash before my eyes, I lay my head against the headrest. I’m smarter than this. I’m thirty-five years old. I don’t have one-night stands. I don’t ride with strangers. I don’t go to strangers’ houses.

Even at twenty-one, I was smart enough not to do this. Why am I doing this? I glance at his silhouette out of the corner of my eye. Okay. He’s better looking than any guy I’ve ever been with. So, there is that. He’s tall, dark, and handsome. Intelligent. So was Ted Bundy. My breath catches in my lungs.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Ted Bundy.”

The corner of his mouth curves into a smile. “Interesting. Well, I don’t have any furniture to move or a broken arm. And you got into the vehicle willingly.”

“That doesn’t help.” I cross my legs and angle my knees toward him. The car’s interior is worn but clean, and it doesn’t fit him at all. I expected to walk out of the bar to see a Jag or a Lexus. Instead, he pulled up in a black Honda Civic.

He taps his fingertips on the steering wheel. “There’s not much I can do to convince you I’m not a serial killer, and I would have to agree that it’s not smart to go off with a guy you just met.”

“You’re right. It’s not.”

“Do you want me to drive you home?”

“So you could find out where I live to kill me later?”

“Right.” He nods as a streetlight flashes over his face. That was the first one in over thirty seconds. “That’s not a good idea either.”

He flicks on the blinker and turns onto a side street. I should be scared spitless, but the last two shots I drank before we left have dulled my intelligence and my instinct to get away.

It’s stupid, but I’m not exactly concerned about my well-being. I should be, but he makes me feel comfortable. I’m never comfortable. I roll my eyes. That sounds ridiculous. How many victims have fallen for the criminal hook, line, and sinker before getting bopped over the head? Hundreds? Thousands?

“Do you want me to take you to the police station?”

“You haven’t committed a crime yet.”

The low rumble of his chuckle makes the butterflies in my belly flutter.

It’s nothing but a one-night stand. That’s all I can afford. I don’t have time for complications. He’s a means to an end. I feel shitty tonight. He can make it go away. I chant the words in my head.

The alcohol has taken away my ability to regret decisions ahead of time. And I’m tired of coming to sex toys.

---