Page 15 of Enticing the Fixer

“I like your sense of humor.” He pulls into the driveway. The house is small, white, and has a chain-length fence around it. He doesn’t belong here. It’s a low-income section of town where someone probably calls the police every night, and the neighbor’s house is only a few yards away.

Just like the car, the house doesn’t fit him. He walks like he owns the world. He talks like he’s used to women falling at his feet. He fucking smells like heaven. It’s an oriental, leathery scent.

A cheap car and a rental house are not him. Not that I was expecting him to pull up in front of a mansion, but this feels weird. Where are the drug dealers and prostitutes?

“Why do you live here?”Oh, Lord, did I say that out loud?I wasn’t raised to question people’s religion, political beliefs, or financial situation. “Forget I asked that. It was rude and something you don’t have to answer.”

He shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. I’m living here as an experiment.”

“An experiment?” What is he talking about? Who lives in a rundown part of town for an experiment?

“Four of my friends and I are giving up creature comforts for a while to see if we like who we are better living this way.”

“Sort of a social experiment?”

“Sort of.” He grabs my hand and rubs the back of it with his thumb. “If you don’t want to come in, that’s fine.”

“So, this would be part of the experiment, right? If the woman runs off once she sees your place, then she’s a gold digger, and you’re better off without her.” The slight touch shouldn’t make my insides heat, but it does.

“Good call.”

“Well…. I don’t want to look like a shallow person.” I grab the door handle as his grip tightens on my other hand.

“Smitten, stop for a second.”

“Okay.” I drop my hand to my lap and face him.

He cups my cheek and strokes along my cheekbone. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t lean into him. No one has ever looked at me like he does. Even though it’s an illusion, it’s doing crazy things to me.

“I like your personality. I enjoy talking to you and kissing you drives me crazy, but those are probably a bad combination. I have a lot of things going on right now.”

“I get it. I don’t have time for a relationship, and my life is messy. I don’t know when it won’t be. And we’ve already established that I have trust issues.” The stress of the last three months weighs down on my shoulders.

I wasn’t ready for my father to die or to take over his company. Or to deal with everyone coming at me from all directions demanding something different. Or the overwhelming feeling that I’m fucking everything up. I’m so tired.

He leans forward, and the air escapes from my lungs. His dark eyes are like pools of chocolate; and I want to bathe in them and forget everything. He’s like indulging in a girl’s day at the spa. “I’ll take you back to the club.”

I shake my head. “I’m on birth control, and it’s one night. The world isn’t going to cease to exist if we have sex.”

His body stills as his eyes bore into mine. I have no idea whether he’s gauging my drunkenness, the risk of getting a sexually transmitted disease, or monitoring for crazy stalker vibes.

He laces his hand through my hair and pulls me toward him. “I have a condom.”

“Only one?”Holy hell. Did I just say that? It’s not like I’m a nympho.

He chuckles and covers my mouth with his. The second his lips touch mine, I light on fire with a need that surpasses anything I’ve ever experienced. I wrap my arms around his neck and dive inside his mouth, dying for more. He groans and hauls me onto his lap.

As I straddle him, I grind my sex into his hard cock, relishing the added pressure while gasping into his mouth. He sucks down each whimper as if his life depends upon it, and I don’t even care that the steering wheel is pressing into my back.

After sliding his hand under my shirt, he strokes along my skin, sending a trail of goosebumps in all directions.Oh, God.My eyes roll back into my head.

With each stroke, I’m practically dry-humping him. Okay. I am dry-humping him. There’s no use pretending that’s not happening.

He breaks free from my mouth and licks along my jawline until he reaches my ear. “Smitten, you’re killing me.”

Smitten is a childish nickname but hearing it from his lips makes me feel giddy. Lord, help me. I’m falling for my own fantasy.

Down the street, a car backfires, causing me to jump. “Shit.”

---